As forceful as his hangover allowed him, Jonathan shook off Matt’s hand. He got up, pushed past Victoria and hurried to the door, but before he reached it a monkey-suited guy closed it and shielded it like he was a Swiss Guard. At the same time the lights dimmed and what was left was the eerie glow of hundreds of laptops. Jonathan stepped closer to the door. “I’m sorry, Sir,” the guard said. He flicked a look over Jonathan’s shoulder to where Matt and Victoria sat, and smiled. “We’re about to begin.” Jonathan flopped into the nearest chair. What the fuck… He leered at Matt and Victoria. They sat erect, watching the podium, seemingly unimpressed by his attempt to leave. It was the alertness in…
Mina Witteman – author | editor | teacher of creative writing
Posts tagged “techno thriller”
The woman patted Jonathan on the back. “Don’t be scared,” she whispered. “Remember you’re among friends.” Whatever had driven him into the elevator, now pulled him out into a wide hall thronged with people. Even before the clicking of her high heels, like the clicking of a gave her away, Victoria wedged herself between the woman and Jonathan. She wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him close. “Dallas,” she cooed. “I missed you sooo much.” Her piercing voice not only ricocheted against the marble floor and walls but also against the insides of his skull. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and fluttered her eyelashes at him. The eyelids were painted a dark purple, a color that matched her short, tight dress. “You were awesome…
The driver of the cab he hauled at the nearest main road took him to Hotel Krasnapolsky the scenic way. Matt didn’t mind. He moved away from the rearview mirror to a corner of the back seat and took off the beanie and itchy blond wig. He rubbed his hands over his crew cut to get rid of the feeling of thousands of ants crawling his skull. He stashed the beanie and wig in his backpack and pulled up the burgundy-colored passport. Jonathan Groen. He tasted the name of the man in his mouth. A Dutchman. The man who would give his life to free him. He fed the man’s last name into Google Translate. Groen. Green. If there would be a shred of prophesy in…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Dark Fiber, Feuilleton, New York, Silicon Valley, techno thriller, Turing
“You go ahead to the hotel. I’ll get him to bed,” Matt said. He lugged the man from the black car, bumped the door shut and patted on the roof. Only when the Uber rounded the corner, Matt searched the man’s pockets for keys. The air inside the ground floor apartment was saturated with lingering smells that hit his nose like a bowl of overcooked Brussels sprouts. Matt lodged the man into the couch and quickly searched the place. Furniture was sparse and what was around was worn. Paint peeled off the woodwork, whitewashed walls were smudged. It was no more than two small rooms and an open plan kitchen and it breathed the atmosphere of poverty and neglect. The bedroom held a wardrobe, a mattress on the…
It was past midnight when the bartender shouted something and started cleaning the bar. People emptied their glasses, paid their tabs and left. “Closing time,” Matt said. He pushed his chair back and got up, watching the man, who lolled against the window. He’d been asleep for the last hour or so, but no one had seemed to bother. “Thank God,” Victoria said. “This is worse than a fucking red-eye. I so need a drink. A real one.” She pushed her half-empty glass away from her, gathered her things and stuffed them in her handbag. “Go order a cab and wait outside. I’ll pay and see what happens to him.” Matt watched the snoring man from the corner of his eye. A drop of saliva trickled…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Dark Fiber, Internet, Mina Witteman, New York, Silicon Valley, techno thriller, Turing
The bar was small, busy and dark, as if someone had switched off the sun. Guests hung around the wooden counter, obstructing the way for those who wanted to go the higher seating area in the back. The man wormed his way to the counter. Holding the copper railing with one hand, he raised the other to signal the bartender. The bartender acknowledge him with the slightest nod and drew him a beer. “Jonathan,” he said and then something more, in Dutch, with lots of harsh g’s, before he ripped off a sheet from a small notebook and jotted something down. He placed the tab in between a dozen others on the counter. Matt pushed Victoria past the heat and stench of people and beer, and past the man,…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Dark Fiber, Feuilleton, Internet, Mina Witteman, New York, Silicon Valley, techno thriller, Turing
Matt followed her nod with his gaze, to the man who trudged his way through the shoppers. Every now and again he looked up and when he did Matt caught a glance of his eyes. The cold shiver turned into an electrical surge that opened his throat and windpipe. As if he looked in a mirror before he’d put on the gray lenses. He stepped back into a shop’s portico, but pushed Victoria towards the man. “Do your magic,” he said softly. “Make it happen.” Victoria stopped the man. She put her hand on his arm with a possessiveness that made him stop. She asked him for the way to the Anne Frank House. For a moment it looked as if the man wanted to ignore her,…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Internet, Mina Witteman, New York, Silicon Valley, techno thriller, Turing
Mina Witteman 