Marinah finished reading the morning Straits Times about the deputy prime minister Anhar being charged on ten counts of corruptions and sodomy. She threw the Times over the table to the couch opposite.
"Asshole", breathed Marinah. Some people just don't cover up their tails leaving telltale signs all over the place. Sex scandals, sodomy, incest and the likes are no big deals to her. She has experienced them since she was 14.
She leaned back her luxurious executive couch on the eightieth floor of the brand new, gleaming Petronas Twin Tower in Kuala Lumpur, swivelled the couch to face the window that framed the famous skyline of metropolitan city of Kuala Lumpur and focused on her penthouse in Trivolla in Petaling Jaya, 20 km out of the city, where she lived. This completely furnished luxurious apartment with he best view, was given to her by Boonchai, the company's accountant, when she audited his books and could not account for the missing 6 million Malaysian dollars. She remembered how arrogant this Boonchai was when she queried him on the unaccounted special expenditure for the year 1997.
"Ask Tan Sri Nohar, the chairman, I follow orders"
"All right, Boon, I will, but before I do that, remember you are the chartered accountant and are legally responsible for the missing money, not the chairman. I give you up to 4 PM today", and left. At the age of 27, Marinah is Petronas maverick Chief Internal
Auditor renowned for her uncanny capability to unravel secret accounts, unexplainable expenditures of high officials to donations, sponsorship of organizations, unscheduled overseas expenses...... nothing escaped her dark eyes. Standing at 5 ft 4 inches, 120 lbs, vital stats of 36-32-35, she loomed higher than the tallest tower in the world on those caught doctoring the finances of the company. She looked down at her slim sleek pair of legs which had fallen many men and kicked loose her 5 inch spiked high heel pumps, one of the hundreds of shoes, given her by her victims. She is neat, she is smart, she is Machiavellian. She is a sex maniac. She glanced towards the High Court. The time is 10.00 a.m. Anhar is due to be grilled at the stand today. The handphone beeped. "Yes?" "Marinah? Something urgent has cropped up. I need to go to Berne tomorrow. Can I see you tonight? My chauffeur will pick you up at the basement at 7 P.M. tonight. Will that be ok?" "OK" Marinah clipped off the phone and wondered what numbered account this Wahab is opening at the Swiss bank this time. Every time he went overseas, he called her. She rose and walked towards her Louis Vuitton valise and examined the content. He will need some or all of these tonight. She then opened the closet, scanned through the clothes, and smiled.
Her fax machine began spewing out meters of texts and figures. Her diagonal reading spotted the discrepencies in the figures compared to the memorandum. She punched a few numbers, gave instructions, faxed back a few queries, and was about to make herself a cup of coffee when the fax machine again spewed out more information. The bosses marvelled her inside knowledge. She had her methods. Time to get busy. A few heads will roll.
Marinah scanned through the two faxes, reading in parallel, dark eyes fleeting between the two intestines of data; circled a few figures, question marks, exclamation marks, arrows.
She then passed the two faxes through the scanner, saved to her computer and began to scroll, cut and paste, compared the figures on two windows, recalled some data from the company database, called up her own self programmed data analysis module and set the machine to run at 600mhz. She is one of the few in the company who has access to the company's innermost data online. The analysis took some time. She had a lot of time --the victims did not.
She walked over to the closet again, selected the outfits and packed them into the valise, snap closed and locked the valise with her infra red coder which doubled as a cellular telephone, beeper, decoder and stun gun which could deliver 30 000 volts, knocking out a person instantly. She had no need for the gun so far. The computer beeped completion of the data analysis. Marinah sat scrolling down the data, analyzing the machine analysis. The machine reported nothing abnormal detected. She smiled. The thief or thieves were getting smarter. They beat the machine. She recalled a few sets of data and set up the multi level randomized SQL which signalled to her that that query would take 18 hours. She set the machine to analyze using javascripts and algols and the blinding analysis was completed in two hours. The printer purred out the hard copy 5 fans long. She whipped it off the printer and started to scan the final data. As she zoomed down the lines, her dark eyes widened, startled, and when she reached the end of the pages she sat back and smiled. Going back to the computer, she encrypted the last analysis using her own designed encryption method, which beat the USA NASA encryption protocol. She committed the hard copy to her photographic memory, double shredded the printout to millions of pieces, one millimeter square. She sat on her couch and swivelled to the skyline again, thinking, analyzing some facts the machine cannot tell her. Why should the company bail out the banks? Why are there so many non performing loans (NPL) and why are the borrowers not paying up? Who are the borrowers? The national petroleum company, Petronas, pumping out 1 million dollars a day - free petrodollars- is reporting a deficit for the year 2000?
Hmm, interesting.
She picked up the phone and put it back again. Ask no questions and you get no lies.
She connected up to the internet, bypassing Measat, the national satellite, keyed in the queries in algols and waited. The screen blinked, blacked out to a cursor. She punched in her ID. Slowly the screen scrolled down strings of gibberish of 0's and 1's, which only she could understand. She flipped down the monitor radiation screen, which doubled as a decoder. Outsiders will see the screen showing normal company data while the downloading is working in the background. In fact nobody ever came into her office. The decoder screen is for the benefit of the company in house security cameras. The computer beeped signalling the end of the download. She sent the data to printer and it purred out 5 fans of informations in 0's and 1's.
She sat back to read the printout like reading newspaper and chuckled. The heads were counted. They will roll. This time the printout was shredded once. Nobody here knew how to read this anyway. heh heh.
She looked up the clock ... Time for lunch. She wiggled into her pumps. adjusted her sarong kebaya and left the room. She skipped the bank of elevators into the private one exclusively for senior officers. Since the elevator did not stop at each floor the deceleration had been fatal to many heart cases. To Marinah this sudden force of falling acted as a stimulus to her. She passed the huge ground floor plaza to a quiet dining room at the back, ordered her usual hamburger, and carrot juice. The regular crowd of senior officers looked at her lunch and wondered why she ate such small lunches and many had thought of offering her lunch, but dared not. She finished her lunch in ten minutes and left the building, hailed a taxi to the jujitsu dojo at Jalan Masjid India.
At 2.30 she was back at her desk to see another 5 meters of faxes which she expected this morning. She went through the encrypted faxes, nodded her head and shredded the faxes.
Her personal secretary intercomed in that the weekly budget expenditure meeting was on at 3 pm. She replied she was busy. After attending 3 of these meetings, Marinah concluded that this meeting was just a sideshow and was a waste of her time.
She went through the days routine files and her minutes to the staff were: reply suitably, kiv one week, or nfa (no further actions); tossed the lot into the out tray and pressed the button. The files were removed.
Marinah glanced at the clock, 4 pm.... time to hook up with Wall street..... Hmm.... very interesting.......
By the time she had finished surfing she flipped to Wall Street again for the afternoon reading. As she expected, the screen had turned three quarter red. The staff had gone one hour ago. She punched a few keys on her remote controller. The bath was turned on, set for 27 degrees centigrade, and auto cut off. The fluctuating colors of the screen signalled danger and she felt a usual stirring in her groins. She excelled in danger.
Kicking off her pumps, she walked barefoot across the wall-to-wall carpeted office to the bathroom. She wiggled out of her sarong kebaya, removed her bras and panty and examined herself in front of the full length mirror. Firm succulent breasts jutting out defiantly, solid butts like two scoops of icecreams stuck together, long slim legs that appeared to stretch from toes to her breasts. She examined her pouting lips closely and found no injury from this afternoon's jujitsu combat.
She eased herself into the warm bath, leaned back on the head rest and slowly her hand went to her clit. She woke up exactly one hour fresh, relaxed and vibrant. She turned on a sudden blast of cold water tightening her body and felt her clit harden again. What a nice feeling.
She stepped out of the bath, and walked naked to the closet in the office, selected the leather outfit, with cut out bra, black 5 inch heel boots which covered up to her thighs. Marinah then put a fresh sarong kebaya over her outfit, left the office with the valise, for the elevator to the basement and stepped into the awaiting latest mercedes e 280 series.
All company directors are given the latest mercedes.
"Hamzah, turn up the air conditioning, it is too warm in here" Marinah told the driver. As the black limousine zipped through the basement up to the ground floor, the street light cast a silhouette of the driver. This driver has a face of a roasted pig, thought Marinah.
