[b]Cyan![/b]

See, they [i]could [/i]have just stolen his phone. That would have been one thing.

But stealing an unlocked phone, after taking full biometric scans, while having physical possession of his laptop, while the subject was welded into a soundproofed hotel room unable to trigger a remote wipe or reset? That not only got you access, that got you [i]absolute[/i] access. No time limit, no quick info dumps, no micron electroscopes trying to read hard drive fluctuations. She could make phone calls with his voice as a filter! She could log in to his bank account using full two factor biometric authentication, change the passwords, and start making purchases! She had three days minimum before the hotel would override the Do Not Disturb status on the door - he'd be fine he had plenty of sandwiches[1] - and you could do a [i]lot [/i]of crimes in three days!

[1] Fifteen boxes of cookie dough, and a bag of limes so he didn't get scurvy.

"The cops are probably watching the account," said Black. "He [i]was [/i]kidnapped."
"The cops aren't watching shit," said Cyan with her mouth[2] full of illegally attained fried tofu. "This guy ran his fucking crime conspiracy out of this bank account. It's one of those ultra secure VIP crypto banks, and if they wanted to start investigating transactions they'd have to start with how he lost half a million dollars in a sushi bar a few days ago." She grinned a fanged grin, swishing her huge bushy tail. "Don't you get it, dummy? We're rich! [i]Untraceable [/i]rich!! We can dump all this in a completely different account and nobody will say shit! Everything he set up to cover his ass now covers our asses!" She gasped, and a second magnificent bushy fox tail conjured into being behind her. "Like a second tail! I [i]get [/i]it now!"

[2] Green's mouth. Cyan herself was a freefloating collection of holographic emitters that liked to settle over the 'top' of other colours, half-possessing them through a cabled link. 

She left the investigation stuff for the other colours. She was wondering what she could do with all this money. Get Pig's attention, probably! She scoffed to herself - so basic that he'd gone into finance, though she supposed if he was that committed to normative determinism she was lucky he hadn't become a cop. 

[b]Tyger![/b]

"You did great, Pope," said Tyger. "I'll remember this. And yes, I agree. York is too intense for management. He's a rant journalist and he needs to touch grass by interacting with people he legitimately hates for a while. Send him undercover to a cop conference so he can remind himself what he's supposed to be."

"To manage something like the Anthrozine, with its unique staffing requirements, we need a specific personality type. First, they need to be an anarchist. Communists are more correct, but they are impractical at this scale. Secondly they need to be an abrasive numbers guy. Someone who's shit in an extremely predictable big picture way. Someone who'll optimize the site and make enough money to pay the people who need it without selling out and going corporate. Someone who can hold feet to the fire on deadlines without getting worked up about it. Someone who can bang their desk and demand pictures of Spider Man, and then be unambiguously happy when they get pictures of Spider Man. Do you know anyone like that?"