Crime and Device Management

‘JIT’

‘What?’

‘JIT. Just in time.’

‘Justin who?’

‘Just, in, time. It’s a programming term. Describes the process where source code is compiled into native machine code just in time upon execution, it allows for greater flexibility.’

‘What the fuck’s that gotta do with anything?’

‘I’m just saying. You know, the importance of doing things just in time — at the right time. For efficiency.’

Jez didn’t expect a dinosaur like Deez to understand. The guy was still driving around in a Morris Minor like it was 1967. But he was getting tired of this shit. It’s not like he chose a life of crime. It was an accident. That and genes.

‘Well thank you very much for that relevant information. What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously. Knob.’ Deez shook his round bald head and faced the whiteboard again. ‘Anyway, Scoot, Lump, Tez. You’re gonna be in first. Through here. Two minutes tops, alright? We’ll wait outside. Then Jez, me, and Audrey will go in. On the way out, I want Audrey first–‘

‘FIFO.’

‘What?’ Deez cast Jez another bulldog stare.

‘FIFO. First in, first out. It’s a method for processing information in a pipeline. It’s very efficient.’

‘And your point?’

‘That Scoot, Lump, and Tez should come out first, since they went in first. That’ll give you, me, and Audrey more time to do what we need to do. I’m just saying. What?’

‘Stop acting like a prick. You in or not?’

Out, he wanted out. Going straight just wasn’t cost-effective anymore. But he didn’t want to end up like the old man. By the time he was six the guy was already doing life. So many blokes came and went in that little two bed semi he forgot what the old man looked like by the time he quit school at fourteen. ‘I’m in. It’s just–‘

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

‘The alarm will be silent.’ Deez continued with his scrawls on the whiteboard. Jez looked on and sighed. A data flow diagram would have been easier to follow. Looked like Deez had trouble following his own boxes. ‘The safe will be here. No, wait. Erm… Is that the? Here. Yeah. Keep an eye on your watch,’ he flustered on. ‘I reckon the old bill will be around within five, six minutes max. Best be safe.’

His mate Zed had gone legit. Kind of. Once he found his way around computers, he started with scripts. Easy money. Phishing, trojans, ransomware, that kind of thing. Zed reckoned half the world’s viruses were created by anti-virus corporations or government agencies anyway. Then he got a call. And now he reckoned he was making six figures in the employ of tech firms and MI5. Called himself a white hat. Jez wondered what kind of hat. Baseball would be perfect, he’d stretch to a Trilby, but no way was he going to wear one of those poncy top hats.

After the briefing Jez collared Deez. ‘You know I’ve been looking at the way you’ve organised your information. You got all those notes and shit lying around. You could put them in a spreadsheet. It’ll be easier to manage. Easier to divvy up things too.’

‘A what?’

‘You know like Excel?’

‘I excel enough thanks, mate. Been doing this before you were fuckin’ born.’

‘I just thought–‘

‘You thought wrong. You been on them drugs again. I told you about that shit.’

‘Not drugs, Deez. Eduction, mate. Education.’ Jez was really getting sick of this. ‘Had time to brush up on the inside. Courtesy of her Majesty’s pleasure.’

Deez looked at Jez like the man had spat in his beer. ‘What the fuck did you do that for?’

‘Doing a BSC in computer science. It’s the future. You gotta move with the times, man. All this going from house to house, burglary and lugging shit about. That’s over. It’s all cyber now. Bitcoins and shit like that. You can rob some poor bastard in Bermuda while sitting having a beer and scratching your balls. That’s the future.’

‘Sounds like bullshit to me.’ Deez started to walk away. ‘We’re still doing this. You in or not?’

‘What about the driver?’

Deez threw his arms in the air. ‘What? I suppose that’s another wanky computery word is it? Driver. What you gonna educate me about now? I just need to know if you’re–‘

‘No. I mean whose doing the driving? In the car?’

Just another few years to go. The problem was keeping his nose clean in the mean time.

© 2017 The Wasted Love Song
Image: MS-DOS Blue Horizontal by Kjetil Korslien / CC BY

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