Kohutavalt naljakaks teevad loo koha- ja isikunimed. Nobody messed with Harry Rama down here. Ever since the Upanishad crew had whacked his older brother Harry Krishna, Rama had systematically taken over the family’s territories. Sitting to his right was a quiet scarecrow of a man with old-fashioned glasses. The lenses were so thick his eyes seemed to bulge out of his peaceful face. The Hacker was a master of getting information out of any encrypted system. Mostly, by hacking the programmers to little pieces with an axe. On Harry’s left sat the Slasher. The Slasher was a mountain of muscle. He had a crazy evil look perpetually tattooed on his face. His mouth would occasionally break into a rictus of a grin for no apparent reason, with saliva dripping down his corners. His massive hands were always crushing empty air in front of them. They said he could slash his way past any security firewall in any computer even without the codes. They said he’d already slashed the virtual vaults of more than one orbital Bundesbank. He had a Wittgenstein mind, capable of breaking any private language into its most basic components.
Ja nii edasi...