(2018-10-22) Hacks 4 Less
Maggie visits Marcus' shop and gets caught with her hand in the proverbial jar

It's noontime in Calaveras and the local strip mall is welcoming it's newest tenant. In the corner slot, which seems to have a new store in it every month, holds the newest location of Tech 4 U. There are glass counters containing the latest in personal electronics from cellphones to tablets and everything in between. The walls are covered in accessories for the products and the labels on the wall indicate that Marcus is an official dealer for all the popular service carriers.

Currently Marcus is sitting on a stool at the main counter working on replacing a broken screen on some teenager's iPhone. There's classic rock playing softly over the speaker system.

Maggie mills around outside for a little bit first, reading signs plastered to windows in the neighboring stores, then reading the office hours on this one before she finally pushes open the door and lets herself in. She tosses a quick look over the inventory, taps her fingers on a couple of the glass counters while passing, and heads right on up to the front counter with the flash of a quick smile (which looks a little out of place on her particular face). "Hey, can you fix something for me?" It's a seriously old cell phone that she plonks on the counter.

Marcus looks up as Maggie walks in the door. It's odd to see an actual customer over the age of 16. He puts on his best smile which probably looks as contrived as Maggie's. "Hey" He says briefly, nodding as she places the phone on the counter. He picks it up and takes a quick look. "Are you looking to recycle it, or did you actually want it fixed?"

The thing is a true relic - a flip-phone with an antenna that can be raised and everything. "Well, I don't think it's ever getting back on the cell network." Maggie scrunches up her face. "But I'd like to get the info off the SIM card. Do you think you can pull that? Just whatever phone numbers are on there, maybe any text messages? The thing belongs in a museum, but there are a coupla numbers on there that I lost till I remembered I had this." She leans her elbows on the counter, adding, "How much do you charge for something like that?"

Marcus nods, listening. "Yeah, I can clone the SIM for you, put it on another… or did you want the data put on some other form of media?" He takes a moment to think.. "Thumb drive? Printed on a hard copy? I could email the data to you if that works too?" He shrugs, offering suggestions. He smiles, a little more genuine as the woman leans over. "Price depends on how hard I have to dig. A simple SIM clone shouldn't be much more than $10, depending on how you want the data delivered. Recovering data from hard drives is a little more difficult and more costly, for example." He easily opens the phone, removing the battery and then the card. He looks it over for damage. "I can also recycle that relic responsibly if you'd like. Are you looking for something newer? I've got a line on the new iPhone Xr's coming out this week."

Maggie chews her thumbnail absently while she listens to the options, her brows lifting in pleasant surprise at the $10 quote. "That cheap, huh?" Pitching onto her toes, she eyes the exposed innards of her poor old phone, asking, "Would my info be safe if you put it on another media? Like, if I wanted you to get all the stuff out of that phone and put it on a one of those little bitty cards I can just stick on my computer, nobody'd be able to steal my identity or whatever?" There's a laugh about the iPhone, totally fake laugh. "One thing at a time, turbo."

Marcus raises a brow, keywords triggering his intrigue and possible defenses. "It's a flip-phone. It should really only be contacts and texts. If you want, I can encrypt it onto a thumb drive and give you the key. That's an extra $50 though. My encryption skills are… well… they're worth $50." He says. "That's really the only guarantee I can give you with removable media. The only other issue you might want to look at, if this is a common problem for you, would be what's going on with your own PC. Hold on a moment?" He walks over to the back and taps something on his own phone before walking back over. "It's all up to you. Your privacy is my concern." He chuckles at the last comment. "It's not a hard sell. I just didn't know if you had a replacement for this yet."

<FS3> Maggie rolls Surveillance: Good Success. (2 5 7 4 4 7 3 5)

"Really." Re: worth fifty dollars. It's not a question, though Maggie tips her head in a classic questioning posture, brow a-climbing. While he steps away, she adjusts the way she's leaning, taking the opportunity to give the interior a more thorough once-over. By the time Marcus returns with his own phone, she's back to leaning with one elbow on the counter, assuring, "I'm all set for a new phone, I just really need a few of the numbers off that one. You're like my last-ditch effort before I try hunting them down on Facebook."

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Maggie=mind+computers Vs Marcus=mind+hacking
< Maggie: Good Success () Marcus: Good Success ()
< Net Result: Maggie wins - Marginal Victory

Marcus nods as he pulls out his laptop. He plugs in the SIM adapter and a new flash drive. "Ok.. Not a problem. Just checking." His phone chirps and comes up with the typical Facebook profile and Google for every common person. He shrugs at that and then turns to his laptop as it chirps. "What the…?" He grumbles and gives a hard stare at the woman before he deploys countermeasures. Once the viruses have been neutralized, he jumps over the counter. Phone in hand, he presses a button and all the cameras in the room go dead, even a couple in the mall hallway. "What's your game?" He asks, menacingly.

Maggie's eyes get bigger when he looks to work on that phone right now, her poker face not so much with the awesome. "Why? What happened?" She leans more on her elbows then, pushing her weight forward on her toes over the counter in an effort to get a look at what Marcus's laptop is saying about her booby-trapped phone.

Marcus grumbles, Nice-Guy act gone. "You just tried to hack into my system. Good thing for you I don't keep anything important on that, except for countermeasures and tracking software. What's your deal, "Miss IT Consultant who doesn't know how to dig up her own info'?" Is that violence in his face? Not necessarily. He's in public, and it's the middle of the day with people walking around the mall. Security is likely to show up any minute with their cameras coming down. "You've got thirty seconds to explain yourself before I hand you over to the mall cops. Speak fast."

"First off, if you hand me over to the mall cops, a real big black guy with a very bad temper is going to jump you in the parking lot. So I'd call off the rent-a-cops." Maggie doesn't look like the violent type, but she doesn't immediately cower from the obvious aggravation on Marcus's face. She must truly believe in this black-guy-beating she's talking about. "Second, I am not telling you shit until you tell me what kind of mall-store-techie is so paranoid that he catches that," she nods to the phone, "without seriously looking for it? What've you got to hide, Tech 4 U?"

Marcus raises a brow and laughs. "Now that's just amateur." He continues to laugh. "If that's what is the answer to this town's "beating", then I've got nothing to fear, seeing as I've already scoped out the town's pitiful network grid." He presses the button on his phone, restoring the cameras. When security comes by, they see that the cameras are back up. Nothing looks amiss through the storefront, so they continue on their way. "I don't have anything to hide. I'm just. that. good." He grins. "And you're not." He hands her the phone and SIM card back. "Now get out of my store. You haven't seen the last of me."

Maggie finger-waves to the guards, plastering on one of her totally terrible fake-smiles like everything's fine in here, we're all fine. She takes the phone back from Marcus readily, stuffing it into her pocket, and this one? This one's not a fake smile. This one's a mean smile, and she does those with commendable credibility. "No, precious, I am that good. I'll be in touch, 'kay?" She very does not want to tussle with the mall-cops, though, and loiters till they disperse. The big black guy? Totally real, totally waiting to meet up with her, totally looking bum that no beatings get to be thrown.

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