“So, stationary?”
“No. I mean, it’s big, yes, it’s an integration of systems and people and it requires quite a bit of power, and it’s enclosed in a designated structure. But it is mobile, and it can be operated not only on the ground but also on board a ship.”
“From the air?”
“You’d need to retrofit a suitable aircraft for that, and that would take more time than these people had. And remember, they stole an uncompleted technology. Operating it from an aircraft requires more development, more work that we ourselves haven’t done yet. We haven’t even decided which aircraft will be used, that will require some testing. No, we’re talking just months since they began stealing the specs, so all they would have had time to do is complete it and use it in a way that requires the least adaptability, in terms of place. Which means using it the way we use it in our testing and therefore configured it in the specs they will have stolen—in a specially fitted container that can be moved on the back of a truck or hoisted by a helicopter or disassembled for a specially-fitted cargo flight. But anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
Donovan looked at him questioningly.
“You’re thinking about finding it, right? No, it’s long gone. We have no idea where it was when it took the jet down and because we can’t be sure how far they completed it we can’t know if there were any limitations to its use, such as in terms of operating distance. You should assume it has no such limitations, because Sirion doesn’t. And anyway, it’s been powered down since. So even we, who would know what to look for, can’t find it.”
“Wait, then how did they . . . how was it originally understood that Sirion was used?”
“You mean Dr. Tanner, at Mons? She heads the aircraft inspection lab there. We asked for her help in testing Sirion a while back and she solved some issues for us, so when the jet was brought to her she was able to recognize its use, or rather the use of the stolen version. See, we originally created a residual signal that appears when the technology is in use. You need to know it’s there and how to detect it. We did this for us, to identify Sirion’s operational efficacy in its testing stages, it’ll probably be removed once Sirion is operational because once it becomes known it will be a telltale sign. Anyway, a shadow of this signal can be detected after Sirion disengages, as long as all of the aircraft’s systems are operating all at once. Luckily whoever stole the specs didn’t realize what the residual signal was for and built it into their copy, and Dr. Tanner knew to look for its shadow signal. Still, it’s gone now, and it wouldn’t have been strong enough to track their copy anyway, certainly not after the jet was moved and when the copy can be anywhere.”
“Okay.” Donovan contemplated what he heard. “Okay, so if Sirion isn’t operational yet—”
“True. We have already tested components on UAVs, military aircraft—cargo planes and fighters. We’ve even been given an executive aircraft by IDSD and have purchased an airliner for extensive testing. But there are still functions that are incomplete and glitches that need to be eliminated. We haven’t applied the technology as a whole yet. I cannot believe someone is already using—”
“What would it have taken to make it operational to the extent that these people have?” Donovan needed Beinhart to stay focused. He needed to understand if there was a way here to find out who did this. Somewhere out there, there was a technology that could be used to take control of aircraft. Any aircraft. And if whoever did this could replicate it as they had, they could also duplicate it. Sirion in the hands of rogue groups, of people who didn’t care about lives, was unthinkable. These people needed to be stopped.
Beinhart thought about it. “I haven’t seen yet what was stolen, but with enough of our technical data, all it would have taken to replicate what we did and then continue our work is the right people. And they could work faster if they were taking shortcuts.”
“Shortcuts?”
“For us, it’s safety first. If Sirion is ever used, it would land an aircraft with none to several hundred passengers on board without causing harm to anyone on the aircraft or on the ground. No exceptions allowed. But if that isn’t your aim, if you have other uses for the technology that do not make safety or even a one hundred percent successful performance rate a priority, making it operational sooner would be easier and require less testing. It wouldn’t be perfect, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the copy is far from it, but unfortunately it seems to have been built well enough to do the job.”
Donovan took a long look at the lab. “What will you do now?”
“Continue. The original purpose of Sirion still applies, its importance is not in question. But if our internal protocols have been exposed we will need to revise them, and either way we will be setting up another team whose job it will be to try to find a way to protect aircraft from this Sirion copy, to counter its functionality or to, say, allow a friendly to take over an aircraft from a hostile attempting to control it.”
“To prevent a recurrence of what happened this time.”
“Yes. I can only hope that these people didn’t pick up on the self-learning intention within the Sirion architecture, so that we can still create a countering system, or that at least they will be stopped and the technology retrieved before they get to build on what we already did. And obviously if their copy is found intact, we will have more to work with.” He hesitated. “Agent Pierce, I wonder, can you tell me what . . . how this happened, how our Sirion was stolen?”
“I’m afraid I can’t—”
“No, of course not. Of course. I do apologize. It’s just that everyone here is wondering. They all thought they were safe, you know. IDSDATR and ARPA are two of the most secure entities in the world. And now, not knowing who killed Joseph and how our work was stolen, some worry they might be in danger.” He raised a hand. “I know you can’t say anything, and I imagine you might even think one of us was involved, although that is not a possibility, no one here would . . .” He stopped and took a breath. “I understand. I do.”
“I realize how difficult the situation is for you, Dr. Beinhart.”
Beinhart nodded absently, his eyes on his people, in what was the still active, albeit subdued, Sirion project.
Donovan left it at that. There was no reason to disrupt work at the lab any further by talking to anyone else. Not yet. These people were being treated with respect. Not as suspects but as a treasure to be protected, and, in a way, as the victims of a crime, and he could understand why. They were scientists and engineers and technicians who dedicated their lives to developing technologies in the name of peace. That was what they had done with Sirion, and what they would continue to do once it was completed. And so, while each and every one of them, including Beinhart, was being investigated without their knowledge, none of them would be approached directly with questions that might sound accusatory unless they became suspects, not even with the time constraints here.
Chapter Twelve
“Donovan.” The deep, resonating voice interrupted the USFID investigator’s thoughts as he walked back into the missions building out of the night enveloping the IDSD complex. Scholes was coming out of the elevator. He had a coat on and his briefcase in his hand. “I was about to give you a call.”
“Going home?”
“Nothing too immediate to do here. Brussels, Washington and the Joint Europe Civilian Command are on now, we here are just watching from above for now.” The vice admiral sighed. “One thing you learn around here is to take a breather before the sky falls. Which is something Lara should do, too. Get her out of here, will you? Otherwise she’s going to lose herself in her work, stay here the entire night. Run herself down. I need her sharp. One of her pending missions, for the Joint Europe Military Command, was postponed because of the ambassador’s disappearance, but there’s another that’s still expected to be set in motion sometime soon. A few hours away from here would do her some good.”
Donovan concurred. “Good thinking.”
Scholes laughed he
artily. “Never had this option before, you know. Someone who might actually be able to get her to take a bit of rest.” And with that he turned and left, still laughing.
Lara was alone in her office. She was standing beside her multitouch desk, looking down at a map displayed on it in muted colors. An old map, of Europe as it was half a century before. As Donovan walked in, she stretched and rubbed her neck.
“Looks like you could use a break. How about calling it a day?” he said.
The day had been over for some hours now, Lara realized. The mission she would be assisting in hadn’t been set in motion yet, the weather and forces deployment local to the target area would decide when it would be. She did have the Srpska and Bosnia entanglement in her mind, but the information she requested from the officers she had spoken to earlier would take some time to compile, considering the angles she needed. And it was, for now, the work of diplomats to try to reduce the tensions, heads of military forces to deliberate their and their opponents’ end goals, and intelligence to try to understand what was going on. There was no trouble yet, not her kind.
Although something did tingle in the back of her mind, something that didn’t let up. But she had learned long ago not to push it, to let it be. Let herself be. If it was relevant, whatever it was that was bothering her, it would come to her when it was time. Chasing it would only tangle her mind up in itself, while what it needed most was freeing. Still, the idea of leaving the war room when so much was on the verge of happening bothered her. She could look at what the IDSD databases had about the disputed region’s past. It wasn’t entirely what she needed, but still, context could add more certainty when the time came and Oracle was called in.
“Lara?” Donovan could see the wheels turning.
Her eyes remained on the map, the furrow in her brow—and in her mind—not letting up. “I think I’ll have another look at the Bosnia and Herzegovina wars and the Russia takeovers in the region. Why don’t you go home, I’ll follow in a bit.” It had been a long day for him, too.
“In that case, I’ll also stay. I’ve pretty much commandeered this place’s conference room anyway. I could see if my lab has finished analyzing the evidence from this morning,” he said conversationally.
“Really? Is that some kind of attempt to convince me to go home and—” She turned to find him close beside her.
He leaned in and kissed her, stopping her thoughts, both their thoughts, and they remained locked in the kiss for a long time.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered in her ear, an unmistakable huskiness to his voice.
Any thought of arguing escaped her mind.
He didn’t bother going up his driveway, just left the car at the curb and crossed her front lawn as the car she drove entered her garage. He walked inside just as she was getting out of the car, hearing the door slide closed behind him, and his gait didn’t break until he met her with a ravenous kiss. He pushed her against the car, pressing his body against hers urgently, felt her respond, felt her push her body against his. He was already slipping her jacket off, tugging at her shirt, when she managed to speak through a kiss.
“Sensors,” she managed to say. “The car.”
He realized immediately what she meant. At her IDSD protection level, one of the security measures installed in the car was sensors, which would alert IDSD Security if anyone was tampering with it or if the occupant might be in any danger. And what they were doing . . . he pulled her away from the car into his arms and backed her toward the inner door to the house and through to the living room, and they tumbled onto the sofa and from it to the thick rug, leaving a trail of clothes behind them.
“Is something beeping?” she asked later. She was still catching her breath, the thick carpet soft at her back, Donovan’s body prone against hers.
Donovan raised his head. “You’re right. Something is beeping.”
“I didn’t hear it until now.”
He smiled and stood up. “It’s your new message system, it was replaced along with the rest of this place’s home system and security layout. It still has its default sound settings,” he explained as he walked to the main security console. “We’ll get rid of that beeping, replace it with something friendlier if you want. Yes, there’s a message here.”
She got up and walked over to him, putting on the closest piece of clothing within her reach, his shirt, as he read out loud, “Left dinner in the refrigerator, didn’t want you two to bother with it.”
Lara smiled. “Rosie. She called me earlier. She understood I had a man here last night and actually wanted to make sure it was you. She said she likes you.”
“Huh. So I am a man after all.” And at Lara’s quizzical look Donovan swooped her into his arms. “Just a conversation she and I had a few days ago,” he said.
“Sounds . . . interesting?”
“It was,” he said, amused, as he busied himself with dinner. Lara contented herself with watching him. Seeing him being handy in the kitchen was always enjoyable. Seeing him doing so nude was much more so. She smiled, still surprised at herself, at the way she was with him.
“And so, you’re a man,” she concluded with a laugh when he finished telling her the story of his first encounter with her devoted housekeeper.
He glanced at her. “And I intend to prove that again later.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. She intended to let him.
“So what bothered you?” she asked him as they sat down to eat.
“Bothered?”
“In the videoconference. Something about the Russian news broadcast.”
“You really were there.”
“Yes. Had you all on-screen.”
“So not just watching me?”
“Watching everyone. Listening to everyone. Not my fault you were the cutest guy there. So what was it?”
He laughed. “What do you think it was?”
“You think the Russians are certain that Sendor really is dead.”
He looked at her, surprised. She shrugged.
“Could mean they’re not behind it,” he said, testing a theory. “Maybe they found out about all this happening from someone else, were tipped off. Obviously they know about the technology used to down the jet, so whoever tipped them off is either behind it and is intentionally giving them only certain information, withholding the whole truth, or is not behind it but knows at least part of what happened, for whatever reason. Either way, it is a stakeholder in all this. After all, why tell Russia in the first place unless you want to instigate a political dispute?”
“No, it’s them. Russia did this. But indirectly. They had someone else do it, and that someone was supposed to kill the ambassador but didn’t and is now feeding them misleading information. And that’s what you think, too. That the Russians don’t know he wasn’t among the dead, that they think we found his body along with the others’.” Her tone was factual, and he marveled at how her mind worked. And at how well she could deduce his.
“You wouldn’t by any chance have any idea who they used?”
“No. You’re the investigator. I’m just the . . .” She tried to find a word.
“The one who forges ahead confidently long after everyone else is already lost.”
“Very poetic,” she mused. “So, my investigator, any ideas?”
“Your investigator?”
She threw a cherry tomato at him, and he caught it neatly, grinning, thrilled at her natural reference to him as hers.
“Unfortunately, no. No ideas yet,” he said. “It’s just . . .” He was pensive now. “It’s all too neat.”
“Your dead guy.” She leaped again. Leading him. “There’s something there, you think.”
“All I have is a gut feeling.” Donovan played with his food, moved things around on the plate. “And it contrasts with the evidence.” He told her what Reilly and Sidney had found.
“What about whoever killed him?”
“I have nothing. You heard it. A clean shot to the
back of the head, no weapon. The bullet retrieved in the autopsy in the meantime was untraceable, like the ones used to kill everyone on the jet.”
“But you don’t think it was someone he may have been conspiring with, giving the technology to.”
“I believe it’s whoever was following his work and stealing the technology through him. Framing him for something he wasn’t involved in.” It came out of nowhere. He raised his eyes and met hers, focused on him. Realized she was two steps ahead of him in what he was thinking and had just brought him on the shortest path to what he was really going for. He might be able to read Lara the woman, but Oracle was obviously able to go right through her investigator’s mind.
“So basically, no,” he continued after a pause, “I don’t think Berman downloaded that data about Sirion. My gut says this guy was a straight arrow. I’m thinking someone else did that, either directly from Berman’s computer or by hacking remotely and using Berman’s authorizations, then took care to remove any signs of what he’d done so that Berman wouldn’t know someone was getting into the project through him. And then, when the time came to kill Berman, the real perpetrator restored the original download logs, making it look as if Berman had been stealing data all along and trying to hide what he was doing. Nor do I think Berman used that radio we found beside him. I think he was lured to that subbasement room and killed at that precise spot to point us to it, make sure he would look guilty.”
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