Vigilante Investigator Series Box Set

by Eden Sharp

  When I rang the bell it felt like I was there for a date. Half of me wished I’d asked him to come down and the other was fascinated to check out the place to determine what part of him I’d recognize as remaining from our shared past.

  The door opened. He was wearing a dark blue shirt and charcoal suit pants even though it was a Saturday afternoon.

  ‘You ready?’ I asked.

  ‘Almost.’ His voice caught in his throat. ‘Five minutes.’ He held the door open and invited me in.

  The twenty-second floor apartment had wooden parquet flooring and as a corner unit had two sides of windows similar to mine but with a view out to other Financial District skyscrapers as opposed to the Bay Bridge.

  ‘Just finishing up,’ he said, his eyes avoiding mine, and he disappeared off into what appeared to be a bathroom.

  Either he was taking minimalist to a whole new level or he’d always planned on being transitory. The place he’d shared with friends in Japan, where I’d practically lived with him, had been cozy and personalized with clutter. Apart from an impressive looking home cinema system and a few books, I could have been at a viewing of a model home.

  I checked out the paperback titles stacked on their sides, one on top of the other, on a shelf. The first few were by Bohm and Everett or about Planck, detailing theories about quantum mechanics. From the middle I picked up a creased and dog-eared copy I recognized from its cover, Thoughts without a Thinker. I’d gotten so into it I’d felt the need to share it. I turned to the front page and my inscription, Charlie - hope you like it Angie. My handwriting was still recognizable but more self-conscious. The gap left on the shelf revealed Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, a gift Charlie had given me in return but which I’d left behind. I placed the book in my hand back to how it had been previously arranged and looked around the rest of the apartment. Apart from the warmth of the golden wood flooring everything else was turquoise, black and silver.

  I noticed the bedroom was immediately off the living area as the door wasn’t pulled all the way shut. I went over, stood in the doorway and scanned the room. Another large screen TV featured on the wall opposite the bed with the windows and city views to the left. I peered around the door. On the wall to my right, hung a large painting. My chest went tight.

  The plain silver frame contained an image of a naked girl floating face down in a body of water. She was central to the picture, the periphery fading out into negative space in a contemporary style. The long dark hair floating around her head in the water made her look a lot like me. It reminded me of a painting of a drowned girl in a lake I’d seen before only the central figure had been blond, clothed and face up. I remembered it was Shakespeare’s Ophelia with her hands bound in front of her.

  Apart from the friend I had been with at the time who had no knowledge of Charlie, only Jeff, my ex-karate coach and current business partner, knew about my drowning accident which had happened shortly before I’d left Japan. He’d also known I hadn’t wanted Charlie to find out and I was confident he had never said a word. Charlie and I had only broken up a little while before and having him come visit me at the hospital would have been awkward. The first time I’d seen him since had been at the fake interview. Either it was coincidence, Charlie had hacked me and seen my medical records, or it was my imagination and not representative of me at all.

  The sound of the bathroom door opening made me step away and feign interest in the view from the living room window. Charlie picked up his suit jacket from the arm of the couch and put it on.

  ‘Do you still have your bass?’ I asked. He’d loved that guitar.

  ‘In storage in Japan with a lot of old stuff.’

  I nodded. ‘I guess we should go then.’

  I wondered if, on a usual weekend, he would have been wearing black denims and T-shirts like I’d always remembered him in on his days off. Just as we had done all those years before when I used to meet him from work, we looked odd as a couple with him in business clothes and me in my leather jacket and jeans.

  John Knox

  Knox was met in the Hilton lobby by a guy who seemed to recognize him and who was dressed like someone working for the federal government. He was escorted to the elevator and up to a business suite on the eighth floor which consisted of a mid-sized space acting as a refreshment area with seating and silver coffee flasks with rows of cups and saucers laid out ready to go.

  A number of doors led off it. The first, slightly ajar, revealed a room with a large meeting table and eight padded leather executive-type chairs. Knox showed his new credentials as he was introduced to two men in similarly dark and sober suits who identified themselves as FBI Special Agents Marks and Douglas.

  After helping himself to coffee, Knox was left to his own devices while the two lead agents chatted among themselves. Even though the interview was due to start in fifteen minutes there was no sign of McGlynn and Lau. He willed her to arrive soon and put him out of his misery. Dressed down and flying solo he felt like the outsider he was.

  Marks and Douglas poured themselves cups of the tepid watery brew.

  ‘You could do with getting a little off the back there, buddy,’ Marks said to his partner.

  Marks looked to be the older one of the pair, judging by the graying hair. Late-forties maybe, but Knox wasn’t sure if he was the more senior in rank. Nothing about their titles suggested a hierarchy.

  Douglas combed through the back of his hair with his fingers.

  ‘Yep I’m rocking out.’

  ‘Found an Irish bar I like, plays good rock. Met up with some of my old navy buddies last week. You wanna check it out after?’ Marks asked.

  ‘Nah. Tonight’s cheesy chicken and broccoli tater tot bake. I’m married to my best friend,’ Douglas said.

  ‘How long we got with the sub?’

  ‘All weekend. Then any week night we want after he gets off work for a little over three weeks.’ Marks turned to Knox.

  ‘Ain’t that right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Knox said. At least he thought that was the deal.

  ‘Normally lowlifes come to my place, they got the wrong house and they can say amen to the second amendment. Get in your computer, can’t shoot ‘em,’ Marks said.

  His partner nodded. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’

  ‘So, this group, there’s nine of them?’ Marks asked.

  Knox wasn’t sure if the question was aimed at him or not and was relieved when Douglas chimed in to answer it.

  ‘Nobody knows. The name might refer to an idea, a movement or a criminal organization but we’re working on that assumption. They see themselves as online guardians. In the early days they were known for harassing pedophiles, but their attacks increasingly became political. Targeted Republicans, military and police equipment suppliers, private intelligence and information security firms. Helped revolutionaries overcome government internet restrictions. They even managed to hack into the CIA’s servers.’

  Marks turned to face Knox directly.

  ‘This Lau guy, the one called AV1, he’s who moved the satellite out of orbit, right?’

  Knox wasn’t sure how to respond and mentally cursed McGlynn for being late. He said nothing.

  ‘Strictly one-way huh?’ Marks said.

  ‘There’s so many myths it’s hard to corroborate any statement made about him independently,’ Douglas replied and gave Knox a look of disdain.

  The guy who had shown Knox up to the suite peered his head round the door.

  ‘Your party are on their way up,’ he said.

  Knox followed Marks and Douglas through to the meeting room and was directed to one of three chairs nearest the door. A single chair had been placed opposite with another at one of the ends. Three chairs had been moved out of the way against the wall on the far side.

  Douglas hit a button on the laptop sitting in the middle of the table and a document flashed up on to a projection screen.

  ‘This is the latest spectacle’.

  Hacker grou
p the Infinite 9 have published documents online which they claim show financial transactions between senior members of the judicial system and prison operators.

  They claim that various firms are bribing law enforcement officials to advocate custodial sentences or impose harsher penalties, so they can profit from contracting cheap prison labor.

  The documents appear to involve senior figures from the cream of US corporations. One shows an alleged quote from one CEO saying that “this sentencing strategy is boosting the US economy as privately-run prison inmates laboring for 17 cents an hour is making the States an attractive investment location away from Third World labor markets.”

  Law enforcement agencies were quick to close down the site initially but have since been trying to play a game of catch up as the documents are continually reposted by i9 supporters elsewhere.

  The third agent poked his head in the room again, clearly directing his attention to Douglas.

  ‘The subject and external parties are outside sir.’

  ‘Let’s bring them in,’ Douglas said and shut down the file on display.

  16

  McGlynn walked in first followed by Lau. Knox noted they seemed comfortable together, natural. She glanced briefly in his direction. Douglas introduced himself and his partner to them both and informed all of them of a no cell phone protocol during the interview. They were instructed to place all phones in what appeared to be an ugly gray attache-type case with a raised section on its top containing a see-through viewing window. Douglas closed the lid, clicked the metal toggle latches shut and directed the seating arrangements.

  Lau was positioned by himself on the opposite side of the table but even with McGlynn next to him Knox still felt like an outsider. The hotel location made him feel like he’d been added as a last-minute panel member put together to interview Lau for a job. Only it was one he didn’t understand.

  Not much had changed about Lau’s appearance from the picture of the young gamer he had seen in McGlynn’s photo album. The spiked hair remained but now it looked more like the product of an upmarket barber. The grunge look had been replaced by an expensively tailored suit. Lau still looked youthful, a lot taller than Knox had imagined and like he’d fit right in on the cover of GQ. The Asian-American genes had served him well.

  ‘We’ll set the tape, start interviewing and see where it takes us and decide where and when to break off,’ Douglas said.

  He looked at everyone around the table bar Lau, not that it seemed to be a request for approval.

  ‘All right, let’s make a start. I’m Special Agent Douglas, and present are Special Agent Marks for the FBI, Agents John Knox and Angela McGlynn for the Department of Defense, and the subject, Charles Lau.’

  Douglas looked at Knox, McGlynn and Lau in turn. ‘Could you all please say your names for the tape.’

  McGlynn spoke before Knox could open his mouth.

  ‘Angela McGlynn.’

  ‘John Knox.’

  ‘Charles Lau.’

  ‘Mr. Lau, you are a computer security consultant and software developer for Hudson Binomics, a firm with a government contract producing software for military applications. You moved from Japan, where you had been residing for fifteen years, back to San Francisco fourteen months ago after being recruited for the job. You were born and raised in Seattle and it has since transpired that you are a wanted cybercriminal going by the name AV1. You are also the leader of a group of hackers who go by the collective name the Infinite 9 and are responsible for numerous security breaches on US soil and in various foreign territories,’ Douglas said.

  Lau shook his head.

  ‘For the tape?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you seriously telling me you’re denying this?’

  ‘I’m denying the part about being a leader,’ Lau replied.

  ‘Tell me Mr. Lau, am I right in assuming the Infinite 9 is a group with nine members?’

  ‘I believe it may be over nine thousand,’ Lau said.

  Knox stole a glance at McGlynn. He was certain he caught her in a half smile. Marks to his right, seemed startled by the revelation.

  ‘That’s a reference to Dragon Ball Z right?’ Douglas asked. He looked across to Marks.

  ‘It’s an in-joke with gamers and hackers and such. Comes from a computer game and refers to impressive power.’

  Marks smiled and nodded, diverting his attention back to Lau.

  ‘We infiltrated your IRC channel some time ago. Then all we had to do was observe and record the logs. Oh, and we sweated some fans of yours. They all gave up the same names,’ Douglas said.

  Knox glanced at McGlynn again but couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  Douglas opened another computer file and a new slide appeared on the screen.

  ‘From what we’ve noted about historic IRC access privileges there appears to be a main core to the group. Five of you.’

  AV1

  C0d3130n3 - Codeleone

  K854mur41 - Keyboard Samurai

  Cr1m373ch - CrimeTech

  Gh057H3x - GhostHex

  Douglas turned to Marks.

  ‘You see what they do here? I know we only think of twelve-year-olds typing like this, numbers for letters, but it’s a thing. They call it leet from elite, as in an elite way to speak. Like it’s top secret code or something.’

  Marks laughed and shook his head like he’d heard a good joke.

  ‘So, let’s talk about who you all are in real life,’ Douglas said. He hit another button on the keyboard.

  AV1- Charles Lau

  C0d3130n3 = Codeleone - ?

  K854mur41 = Keyboard Samurai - ?

  Cr1m373ch = CrimeTech - ?

  Gh057H3x = GhostHex - ?

  ‘What about these others?’

  Lau stared at the screen.

  ‘Who is Codeleone in real life? Give me a name,’ Douglas said.

  Lau shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’

  His tone contained no hint of arrogance. Instead it was well-mannered and earnest as though he was keen to do his best to aid the investigation.

  ‘You’ll have to do better than that Mr. Lau.’

  ‘What about Keyboard Samurai?’ Marks asked.

  ‘Kenji Takano,’ Lau said quietly.

  ‘Ah yes,’ Douglas said. ‘You shared a house with him when you were younger no? Played in a band together? What about the others?’

  Lau looked at Douglas directly. ‘Apart from my ex-bandmate I didn’t know these people.’

  His voice remained calm and measured.

  ‘But you were the big boss. Wouldn’t you have hacked into their computers to see who they really were?’

  ‘Actually, I wasn’t anyone’s boss and they were just usernames who connected via untraceable botnets,’ Lau said politely.

  Lau wasn’t what Knox was expecting. The quiet, well-spoken interviewee who sat before them sounded like he was talking to his grandparents. There was humility when he spoke, not a lot of eye contact. It came across as deference. He was not the arrogant, overly confident executive-type egoist Knox assumed he would be.

  ‘You’re claiming you aren’t their leader. Seems that the Infinite 9 is a movement though and you are its virtual messiah. Don’t your fans post coded messages about the great i9, do you mind if I call it that? Don’t they look something like this?’

  Douglas brought up another slide.

  The Infinite 9 - hacker fans use 0u1r1 – We Are One

  Also: 1g (leet version of i9) and derivatives thereof: 1gram, onegram, program (pro9), for i9, get with the program?

  Knox glanced at McGlynn again but got nothing, her face still unreadable.

  ‘What about Crimetech?’ Douglas asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lau said shaking his head.

  ‘What about Ghosthex?’

  Lau almost looked pained not to be of any help. ‘Again, I really don’t know.’

  ‘You’re aware of the details of the deal here right Mr. Lau? Why we’re
all here? The National Security Agency is only going to be of any influence in terms of your sentence if you provide information which may be helpful to the defense of your country.’

  Douglas turned to Knox as if seeking his confirmation before turning his attention back to Lau.

  ‘So again. Who are these people in real life?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lau repeated.

  ‘If you did would you tell us?’

  ‘I gave you Ken Takano,’ Lau said.

  Marks shook his head. ‘He’s dead.’

  Douglas leaned forward in his seat and placed his elbows on the table. ‘I think you can safely assume that we know more than you think we do Mr. Lau and that the onus is on you to show some willing here, in order that you cut a little slack for yourself down the line.’

  They went around a few more times. No new information. Lots of silence.

  The older agent, Marks, suggested it was coffee time and called through to the junior guy lurking on the other side of the door to have some refills sent up.

  No one spoke. Knox wondered who would break first.

  He glanced across at McGlynn which was becoming a habit. When she wasn’t staring at Lau transfixed she concentrated on the wall opposite like someone not giving away whether they held a high card or a royal flush. Whenever her focus was elsewhere Lau looked across at her for the briefest flicker before sweeping his gaze away and lowering it once more.

  Junior guy poked his head around the door and let them know fresh coffee had arrived in the outer area.

  Marks and Douglas stood up and went out for refreshments. Knox decided to join them rather than remain sitting at the table feeling like the odd one out. As he reached the door he realized Lau was following on behind.

  Once through into the coffee area he hung back to see if McGlynn was planning on heading through but she didn’t appear. Apart from the junior agent filling a cup from the flask on the table he was stuck standing next to Lau with nothing to say. Marks and Douglas had disappeared off somewhere. Knox didn’t know exactly what McGlynn had told Lau about why they were both there or if she had revealed anything else about their relationship. In any case, Lau didn’t seem overly interested. He stood patiently in line for his turn.