The Deep Fake

When her car and driver arrived soon after that, Mario carried the valise out to the Escalade and hefted it onto the back seat. Then he held the door for Indah, and as she started to enter, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Tonight — as soon as I can get there.”

“I can hardly wait!”

But “as soon as I can get there” turned out to be later than Mario had hoped. Estelle took her time over dinner and didn’t leave for her sister’s house until almost eight o’clock. As soon as her car pulled away, he jumped into his own and sped to the Ritz Carlton.

Once he arrived, he texted Indah asking for her room number. Instead of texting, she called him. “You can’t come up here,” she whispered frantically. “I think my room may be bugged. I’ll come down to you. Go through the lobby and meet me out back on the pool terrace.”

Cursing at this latest hurdle, Mario hurried through the hotel lobby and soon found the exit to the pool deck. When he stepped outside, he saw only a family and their children playing in the shallow end of the pool. Then, from a dark area at the other end of the terrace, he heard, “Mario, Mario — over here!”

Spotting a dim figure in the shadows, he hurried over. When his eyes adjusted, he saw Indah wearing a stylish wrap dress and heels. Unable to restrain himself, he seized her in his arms and pulled her tightly to him. She tilted her head up and her lips sought out his. Both felt their temperatures rise sharply.

After a minute he pulled back, breathing heavily, and asked urgently, “Is there somewhere more private we can go? I don’t have much time — I have to get home before Estelle gets back from her sister’s house.”

Indah’s expression was distressed. “Oh, Mario, I have even less time. Remember: I have to be back in my room alone before nine o’clock. Mr. Bokarnoputra is going to call me with the final details, and I dare not miss him!”

“Damn, damn!” he swore, pulling her to him and kissing her again.

But she had other ideas. She urged him further into the shadows, and he saw an intense look of longing come over her face. Stepping back, she tugged on the tie of her wrap dress, and the two flaps parted. Then she was standing there in a lacey dark green bra and matching thong panties over hold-up stockings he hadn’t noticed before. At that moment he’d never seen anything sexier in his life.

He reached for her again, but she stopped him with her hand on his chest. “No, dear Mario, let me do this — for you.” Quickly she reached down and ran her hand over his now bulging crotch. When she found the zipper of his jeans, she hurriedly pulled it down, then reached in to extract his throbbing cock.

He watched in lust-filled awe as her light brown hand gently squeezed his erection. Then she released her grip and began running her fingers over his penis, first caressing the sensitive head, then stroking the underside. He leaned against the wall for support, letting his head rock back and his eyes close as her fingers sped up her caresses.

“Oh, God, oh, God,” he gasped as she expertly manipulated him, bringing him to the brink much quicker than he would ever have guessed, and then increasing her pressure to push him over the edge. He gasped in ecstasy as his cock began to pump spurt after spurt out onto the concrete decking.

When he finally regained his senses, he saw that she had refastened the dress around her and was standing there with a look of devotion on her face. “That was amazing,” he groaned and reached for her. “Now let me do something for you.”

But she resisted. “No, my darling, stop! We’re out of time. Besides, there are things I have to tell you before we part. Tonight I will receive all the details about your payment. Tomorrow morning, I’ll give you Mermelstein’s cloud address where you can transfer your NFT artwork. And when they’ve confirmed receipt to Mr. Bokarnoputra, he will transfer the bitcoins to you. Once he does that, the transaction cannot be cancelled. You’ll finally have your reward.”

He reached for her to celebrate, but she held him back again. “Wait, there’s something else. Mr. Bokarnoputra has ordered me to return home tomorrow afternoon. But I cannot bear to leave you. If you want me, bring your passport and a bag with your essentials when you come to get your payment right after lunch. Then we’ll go to the airport and fly wherever you wish.” She looked down at the ground. “If that is what you wish, Mario.”

He clutched her to him. “Oh, Indah, I want that more than anything.”

“That will make my life perfect,” she told him passionately. Then she pressed a card key into his hand. “Take this — it’s for my room. You’ll need it tomorrow.” She stretched up to kiss him. “Now, if I don’t leave right away, I risk missing Mr. Bokarnoputra’s call and spoiling everything.” With that, she sped away into the hotel. Mario checked his phone for the time, cursed and ran through the lobby for his car.

 

******************

 

I had gone out for take-out food for Zahira and myself that evening, and the two of us along with Mitch picked at it as we waited anxiously to hear from Priya. She had insisted that Mitch nor the car be at the hotel. “I don’t want anything to dampen his ardor, nothing to give him second thoughts,” she emphasized, and we couldn’t change her mind.

Finally, shortly after nine o’clock, the call came.

“Are you alright?” Zahira demanded when she answered. “You didn’t have to… you know?”

Priya’s merry voice came through the speaker. “No, my prudish sister, I didn’t have to shag him. I just gave him a quick wank and made my getaway. But I think I was pretty convincing, even so. Let’s just say that his climax tonight should foreshadow tomorrow’s climax to our little drama. And since we have this lovely suite, I plan to stay here tonight to take advantage of it. Now, let me go so I can do what I need to accomplish.”

 

******************

 

Mario had made it home with only minutes to spare. Thankfully, Estelle was too eager to tell him about her niece to notice anything out of order. When she finished, he told her that Indah had called to confirm the purchase by her boss. “She’ll have the details on how we get our bitcoins tomorrow, and then it will all be done. But she did warn me that it might be late in the afternoon before we heard from her.”

He paused as though an idea had just come to him. “I know what: why don’t you take tomorrow off and go shopping? You’re going to need a fancy new outfit for the gallery opening. That will take your mind off all the excitement.” He gave her an oily smile. “Remember: we’re going to be rich, so for once price is no object.”

“Well guess what,” she replied smugly, “I don’t need to take a day off because I quit my job today. It was quite a kick to finally tell those people what I really think of them.”

He was surprised, but covered it well. “Well good for you, hon. I know you’re glad to put that grind behind you.”

She nodded, then thought for a moment. “But I do think I’d like to go shopping tomorrow. I’ve been doing some fashion research and I know just what I want to wear in New York.”

With the excitement of what the next day would bring, neither of them slept well that night. Despite that, Estelle woke up at her normal time. When she came out to get herself a cup of coffee, she noticed her lover already working at his computer.

“What are you doing, babe?” she asked, curious at what would engross him on this of all mornings.

He gave her a bright smile. “The Indonesian woman has sent me confirmation that Mermelstein’s has received our deposit. She’s also provided the cloud address where I’m supposed to transfer my art, along with the blockchain for the NFTs. Now, all I have to do is upload everything and we’re done.”

“So we won’t see her again?” and he could hear the question was more than idle.

“That’s right,” he reassured her. “I’ll receive the final confirmation after lunch, and then we’ll be done.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said, kissing him. “Okay, I’m going to get cleaned up and then go shopping. I want to look my best for your big moment.”

“Perfect,” he said, and turned back to his computer.

She went back to shower and get dressed, but something about his manner nagged at her. He was still working when she came back out. “I’ll be back sometime this afternoon,” she told him as she headed for the door. He nodded. “Don’t rush — take all the time you need.”

As soon as he’d finished the upload, Mario took several flash drives and began to make copies of all his work. When he finished, he put them into a padded container and took it back to the bedroom. There he pulled out a large bag and stuffed it with an assortment of clothes, toiletries and his passport, cramming the clothes around the container with his flash drives.

All that took less time than he’d expected; he’d planned to be at the Ritz-Carlton by one p.m., but it was still too early to leave. He looked at his computer and realized he was about to leave a treasure trove of art and information behind. I’ve got everything I really need on those flash drives, he thought, and decided to wipe the computer’s memory to leave Estelle no trace of his whereabouts or access to anything he might have forgotten. Mentally patting himself on the back for his cleverness, he set the wipe program running.

Finally, he went through the house taking down all the prints he’d hung on the walls. I don’t want anyone else trying to profit from my work after I’m famous, he thought greedily, especially not Estelle. He put them all in the fireplace and set them ablaze.

By then it was almost noon, and with nothing more to do, Mario decided to go out to lunch. He got into his car and never looked back at the studio where he’d lived and worked the last few years.

 

******************

 

The sense that something was wrong kept gnawing at Estelle all morning, spoiling the fun of shopping. By lunchtime she decided that she needed to check things out at home for herself. But as she pulled into the driveway, she noticed that Mario’s car was missing. When she went inside, there was a smell of burned paper in the air, and she spotted the ashes in the fireplace they’d never bothered to use. She spun around and noticed the bare walls, some of them with a faint outline where a print had hung. Why would he burn all his prints? she wondered. Then she glanced at the computer. She could hear the fan running, but the artwork he used for his screensaver wasn’t up on the monitor. It sat there dark, and nothing she could do to the keyboard or mouse produced any sign of life.

Fearfully she hurried to the bedroom, and the missing bag, clothing and toiletries told her everything she needed to know. “That bastard — he’s left me!” she shrieked. “He’s going to take the money and run off with that Asian bimbo!”

At first the prospect of Mario deserting her was too much to bear, and she slumped to the bed. But her despair quickly turned to anger. “He owes me money. He can’t get rid of me that easily,” she screamed. When she went back out to the studio area, she noticed that the ashes were still glowing. “He can’t have left too long ago — now where could they have gone?”

Then it came to her: the Ritz-Carlton.

 

******************

 

When he got to Indah’s room, Mario knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He tried again, this time loudly calling her name. When that produced no response, he was momentarily stymied until he remembered the cardkey she’d given him the night before. That made him feel better, and he was even more relieved as the door unlocked when he inserted the card.

But his anxiety returned when he entered and found the suite empty. There were no clothes in the closet, no cosmetics in the bathroom; in fact, no sign the room had ever been occupied. “What’s going on?” he asked himself. Then he realized: she’d had the room cleaned and her bags taken to the concierge desk. “She must have slipped out to run an errand,” he guessed, and sat down in an armchair to wait for her return.

Only minutes later, his patience was rewarded by a knock on the door. He rushed over and yanked it open, only to find Estelle standing there with fire in her eyes. Before he could react, she pushed her way in and turned to face him, her arms crossed, her face stormy.

“You’re going to run away with her, aren’t you?” she accused.

“No, babe, this is not…” Then he stopped and took a deep breath. “Actually, you’re right, Estelle. We’re leaving together as soon as she gets back.”

At this, all Estelle’s bravado evaporated, and she began to weep. “But what about me? You promised we were going to get married, see the world together. How can you do this to me?”

His face was stony. “I’m sorry, but Indah and I are in love. We didn’t mean for this to happen, but it did, and there’s no changing it.”

At that declaration she broke into great gulping sobs, but he made no move to comfort her. After a while she regained a measure of composure. “And what about the money — the $5 million?”

“I’m taking it. All these years I’ve worked and followed my vision when others mocked me. Now it’s finally going to pay off, and it’s all because of my talent and my hard work.”

“And my $50,000?”

“You’ll get it back when I get my bitcoins.”

“So you’ve used me and screwed me, and now you’re just going to throw me over for another woman, is that it?”

There was a cruel tone in his voice now. “That’s right, Estelle, pretty much just like you did to your ex-husband.”

She gasped.

“Now,” he went on, “if you don’t want to see a rich couple madly in love with each other, I suggest you get out of here.”

“Oh!” she cried out as though she’d been stabbed with a knife. Then, crying again, she turned and left the room, her sobs following her down the hallway to the elevators.

Mario slammed the room door closed and took a deep breath. He was relieved to be rid of Estelle but uncertain what to do next. Anxiously, he hurried over to the window to see if he could spot Indah outside. When his search revealed nothing, he went through the suite again, hoping to find some clue as to the young woman’s whereabouts. He considered going down to the lobby, but feared he might somehow miss her. Paralyzed by indecision, he slumped on the bed to wait.

Almost immediately, his cellphone rang. “Indah, is that you? Where are you?” he shouted into the phone. But all he heard was a woman weeping. “What is it Indah?” he asked fearfully. “What’s wrong?”

“He must have found out,” she cried piteously. “His men met me in the hotel parking lot and forced me into their car.”

“Who — Mr. Bokarnoputra?”

“I tried to be so careful, Mario.”

“Where are you — I’ll come get you.”

“I’m at the airport, Mario. They’re taking me back to Jakarta.”

“No — they can’t do that!”

“You’ve got to help me, Mario. I have your bitcoins.”

Suddenly he heard a man’s voice shouting. “Hey, who are you talking to? Give me that damned phone!”

There were sounds of a scuffle, and the last thing Mario heard was Indah shouting, “Don’t forget me, Mario! I love you.” Then the call disconnected.

Immediately he tried to call Indah back, but all he got was a recording that the phone was not currently in service. In desperation, he went down to his car and headed for the airport as fast as he dared. As he zigzagged through traffic, his sense of desperation grew stronger. All of the fame and fortune he’d been expecting were gone, and it dawned on him that he’d effectively severed all ties with his old life as well. Finding Indah was his only chance.

 

******************

 

“Don’t forget me, Mario! I love you,” Priya sobbed, just before she disconnected the call. Then, after she shut down the burner phone, she smiled broadly and bowed to the rest of us in Zahira’s living room. We all broke into applause.

“Not bad acting if I do say so,” she grinned. Then she looked at us inquiringly. “So what do you think: how far will Mario go to find Indah before he gives up?”

 

******************

 

A week later, I asked Zahira if she would host one last get-together of our little group of conspirators. It would give us a chance to reminisce about our adventure and to say goodbye to Priya, who was returning to England. And, to be honest, I found myself missing the excitement and camaraderie of our deepfake.

As we all sat around Zahira’s living room sipping the champagne I brought, I asked the others for any updates. Mitch Fredericks reported that Estelle had left town and moved back in with her parents. Apparently Estelle had confessed everything and thrown herself on their mercy. Her parents hadn’t been happy, we’d heard, but they’d reluctantly taken her in.

“Any news about my ‘boyfriend’ Mario?” Priya wanted to know.

Mitch chuckled. “A friend of mine in the TSA checked the passport logs and found out the guy actually managed to get on a flight to Jakarta. But after he got to Soekarno-Hatta International Airport, they lost track of him.”

“I wonder if he paid for his ticket in bitcoins?” Zahira quipped, drawing a laugh from all of us.

When no one else had any more information, I stood up. “I want to thank each of you again for everything you’ve done. Mitch, Zahira, I would never have found out what happened if not for your help. And Priya, I would never have turned the tables on Estelle and Mario without your ideas and your acting ability. But equally important, I want to thank each of you for this priceless experience. Not only was it an adventure I’ll always remember, it was an opportunity to get to know the three of you.”

“Here, here,” Priya spoke, raising her glass, “to the four deepfake musketeers.”

“There’s one last item of business I need to discuss with you,” I went on after our glasses were drained. “There’s the little matter of a valise filled with $50,000. I don’t feel any need to hand it over to Estelle. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an award of damages for what she did to my reputation and career. But I also don’t feel right keeping it. After all, I wouldn’t have even discovered how I’d been duped if it weren’t for all of you. So after I pay the bills for the hotel suite, auto rental, phones, costumes, and other expenses we incurred, there are some other expenses I want to cover as well.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out envelopes that I handed to Mitch and Zahira. “Both of you provided time and your professional services to help me, and I want to pay my obligations.”

Mitch accepted his with a nod, but Zahira left hers lying on the coffee table in front of her. “I did what I did out of friendship,” she said, not looking at me.

“I know, Zahira, but I didn’t want to take advantage of your friendship. We can talk about it later.”

I felt like I’d screwed up, but I couldn’t stop there. I turned to Priya. “As for you, Priya, I have no idea how to repay you. Instead of taking a vacation, you spent the whole time helping a complete stranger get his life back. And while everything worked out okay in the end, you couldn’t be sure of that in advance. So please let me at least pay for the vacation you lost while you helped me.”

Priya laughed merrily. “My dear Peter, I should be paying you. You gave me the opportunity to write, direct and star in a wonderful production, while helping to right a cruel wrong. This whole affair has been a marvelous adventure, far more exciting than the vacation I was expecting.” She rose and kissed me on the cheek. Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she added, “But if you really want to repay me, come back here at noon tomorrow to see me off before I fly back to London.”

I quickly agreed, and the four of us lifted champagne glasses once more to toast our success and our friendships.