Resolved by Robert K. Tanenbaum

the pornography available on the Web. His own tastes were not quite as exotic as Felix’s in this, running more to fat, older women in degrading poses and lovely young men in copulation. Of course, they both spied on each other’s movements across the electronic prairie. Rashid had password-protected files and Felix devoted a considerable amount of time trying to crack these, but with no success.
    Three weeks after Felix’s “death” in prison, Rashid called him over to a monitor and showed him a color photograph of a young girl. She was talking, it seemed, to a man dressed in layered rags with a strange hat on his head. The photo had been taken from the side, and showed the girl’s generous curved nose and strong jaw. She was very thin, with prominent cheekbones.
    A dog, was Felix’s thought. “Who’s that?” he asked.
    â€œKarp’s daughter. Her name is Lucy. She volunteers in a soup kitchen. It’s where I took this picture. At great risk to myself,” he added importantly. “My face is known to the authorities. Here is another one, with the zoom lens, from the street.” She was wearing shorts in this one, baggy ones, and a loose black T-shirt. No body, decent legs. Put a bag over the face and she’d be halfway fuckable, Felix thought. He said, “You want me to whack her?”
    â€œEventually, but first we need that she gives us some information. There is a man we need to settle with first, a Vietnamese, a friend of hers. He’s disappeared. We believe she knows where he can be found. First you find out that, and then you can dispose of the girl.”
    â€œWhy do you want the guy?”
    â€œThat’s not your concern,” said Rashid quickly, and then, unable to resist demonstrating the confidence placed in him by those higher in the organization, he added, “He was instrumental in the capture of ibn-Salemeh. A traitor to the oppressed peoples.”
    â€œWell, we can’t let him get away with that shit,” said Felix. “So, what’s the plan—I grab the girl and we make her talk?” Felix looked at the photo of the screen again and imagined this procedure. He felt a pleasant tightening in his belly.
    â€œNo, of course not! Can you imagine the uproar if we kidnapped the child of a senior prosecutor? Not only would our major operations be entirely compromised, but the Vietnamese would surely hear of it and go deeper into hiding.”
    â€œWhat major operation?”
    Rashid shook his head. “Need-to-know, need-to-know basis entirely. It does not concern you at this point in time. No, what you must do is to befriend the girl, get close to her, tell her a story, perhaps she will tell you a story, as well. Patience is the thing here. She is a kind girl, this work with the charities. She should not be hard to approach. And you are charming, I understand. It should not be difficult for a man like you.”
    It was not. Felix held it as a matter of deep faith that all cunts were essentially stupid and that they would believe any line of bullshit you threw at them. Also that they secretly wanted to be hurt. It had worked that way throughout his life. The few exceptions required special treatment, after which the dogma re-established itself, since the exceptions were no longer among us.
    The next morning, Felix had his photograph taken with a digital camera, and watched, fascinated as Rashid reduced it in size and printed it out, and then delaminated a New York State driver’s license, substituted Felix’s picture, and relaminated it. Felix was now Larry Larsen. He was somewhat disappointed to learn that no car went along with the license. Rashid explained that the less the cell interacted with the authorities the better. No credit cards, no cars to get into accidents with or collect tickets. Felix would take the subway. He was given a hundred dollars for what Rashid called operating