by Tony Batton
He raised an eyebrow. "Great personal risk?"
"If I was able to track you down, who knows who else might be able to do it? They might turn up with something more dangerous than a paintball gun."
"You weren’t looking for me when you tracked me down: you were just looking for your laptop."
"Then maybe someone else will come looking for that. It’s tied to your past."
"It’s one loose end, which I'm here to tidy up."
"So, how will this scanner thingie find traces of Darwin if it’s out there?"
"There’s a command hidden in the core code to send out a signal every time it’s asked a question."
"And if you do find something how do we work out who’s behind it?"
"I don’t know who to suggest other than ZAT." He tore open one of the antistatic bags. "Nobody else knew about it apart from my wife and a couple of Jenson’s team, including his external lawyer."
"What if it was stolen from ZAT?"
Craig laughed. "Have you seen their security systems? If somebody did steal from Jenson, he would never let it lie." He picked up another component. "Can you switch the soldering iron on?"
"What did your last slave die of?"
He raised an eyebrow. "If you think I’m in the mood for banter, then you clearly haven’t thought through what it must be like to spend fifteen years in hiding, misleading your loved ones to believe that you’re dead."
Millie scowled and handed him the components. "Whatever. Just build stuff."
Three hours later the system was ready to switch on. Millie looked at it with a skeptical eye: it didn't look like it would win any design awards. "Should I stand back?" she asked. "Maybe retreat to another building for safety purposes?"
"Very funny," Craig replied. He plugged in the power supply and a number of lights blinked on. A large flat screen began streaming lines of code. "Once it's finished booting, we'll get a graph of the scan results." He checked a cable at the back of the system. "It’ll show nothing or faint traces in the form of tiny disparate dots. Either way, I expect it will take a while for the system to report."
"Shall I make tea then?"
Craig started to reply but the screen flashed. A simple graph appeared.
"Is it done already?" Millie asked.
Three tiny white dots flashed onto the screen. Then a further three.
"Could just be false positives," he said.
A dozen more dots appeared.
"How many were you expecting?" Millie asked.
Further dots blinked into view.
"Isn't that a lot?"
Craig glared at the screen. "Yes, it..." More dots peppered the display. Within ten seconds the screen was mostly covered in white. And still the dots kept accumulating.
"What does it mean?" said Millie.
"It means," Craig replied, "that the system has been everywhere." He held his head in his hands. "This makes no sense. No sense at all. This is my system. It's like it never stopped running.
"How is it possible? I thought I was the only one who could have re-built it. This is far, far worse than bad. This is the worst scenario imaginable. Jenson must have planned ahead and made full copies in secret before I wiped everything. Perhaps he guessed what I was planning. He’s built the system, and it’s been running for years."
"You’re sure it’s him?"
"Nobody else knew about my work."
Millie cleared her throat. "Earlier you said there was a risk to doing this check. What did you mean?"
Craig swore and pulled out the power supply. "What I meant was that it might detect us ‘detecting’. We need to leave. Before they come to find us."
It took Millie and Craig three minutes to load up the equipment. After a brief argument, they agreed to take Millie's car and in short order she was behind the wheel, retracing her route through the narrow roads.
Craig kept glancing over his shoulder. "Put your foot down."
"You think we’re being followed?"
"I’m not sure of anything anymore."
"Beat yourself up on your own time. For now we need to decide where should we go." She turned the car onto an A-road towards London.
"I don’t see we have a choice. We have to go to ZAT."
"Of course," she replied. "The simple solution. Infiltrate a hi-tech mega-corporation with next-gen security. Or perhaps we should just knock on the front door and demand a meeting with Gregory Jenson?"
"I acknowledge this won't be straightforward."
"Are you even sure it’s them?"
"Whatever happened has to have at least started there. And then there’s the fact that my system could not be operated without considerable resource."
"For someone who’s been hiding out all this time, you don’t seem very prepared."
"I have some contingencies, but I just didn’t foresee this. I’ll think of something."
"Fine. First we’re going to my place."
Craig watched the corridor through a crack in the door. Millie flew around her apartment, pulling out clothes, papers and equipment. But mostly equipment. She zipped up three large holdalls then turned to Craig. "How did you know Michael was visiting me?"
"As I said, I heard he’d changed jobs. I had a private detective on retainer to monitor any changes in his life."
"Why not just track him online?"
"So there were no digital traces leading back to me."
"Unless the private detective left any."
"He’s pretty old-school. Doesn’t even have a website. I found him from a business card he stuck on a noticeboard, so I doubt he left any traces." Craig pointed at the hard drive she had in her hand. "What’s that?"
"Another project I’m working on."
He leaned closer. "Looks unusual. Military maybe?"
"Haven’t you been out of the loop for years?"
Craig shrugged. "I keep my hand in. So what was it that made you look into ZAT?"
"Someone sent your laptop to me after an anonymous tip suggested I look into the company and the Darwin Project."
"Do you get many such tips?"
"Some." She hesitated. "What are you getting at?"
"Somebody really wanted you to research the company. And they wanted you to do it now."
"To what end? You’ll be saying they wanted me to meet Michael next. Or you. But if we can stay on topic, what’s the plan?"
Craig looked at his fingernails. "We go to ZAT’s HQ. But instead of knocking on the front door, we break in to see what we can find."
Millie laughed. "Really? I presumed you were joking. Shall we pick up a couple of gold bars from the Bank of England while we’re at it? It’s a plan destined for failure, and between you and me, I’d rather not get arrested."
"Getting arrested is a minor risk compared to the risks if ZAT are running my system. You, of all people, must recognise that."
"You built it."
"And I shouldn’t have. But I tried to fix things. Clearly I underestimated the task."
Millie looked around the room. "I have everything I need. I might be able to help with scouring ZAT’s systems, but I can only do that if we can get inside the building. And as far as I know, that will be impossible."
"You leave that part to me."
Sixty-Three
Michael sat with Gregory Jenson, Kara and Maxwell Errington in a Whitehall conference room, all staring across the table with serious expressions. At precisely 10:00am, Warwick Saxton walked in, accompanied by MI5’s legal counsel.
When they had taken their seats, Saxton cleared his throat. "I want to be clear. This meeting is a courtesy. Our presence should in no way indicate that ZAT has any grounds for appeal or complaint in relation to the recent decision." His eyes flickered towards Jenson. "We followed a fair process. All the participants knew the basis on which they took part. There were no guarantees. We could have pulled out of the process at any time, especially if necessary to protect taxpayer funds."
Kara looked up from her no
tes. "In relation to a project they would likely never know anything about?"
Saxton sighed. "That's not relevant. Our discretion remains absolute. There are plenty of precedents for such decisions on projects. ZAT has experienced it before."
"But never so far down the track. And never over a completely unproven issue. Do you really think that is fair, given the costs of participation? What kind of a message do you want to send the private sector?"
"This was a unique set of circumstances."
Jenson stabbed his finger on the table. "Warwick, you were there at GCHQ a week ago. Everything we discussed suggested you needed Parallel now more than ever. What has changed? Surely nothing is more important than the project?"
"I appreciate that you're upset, but the fact remains that we were, and we are, acting within our rights—"
"Yes, but why? That's what I want to know. Given the years of effort we've put into this. Given the money already spent—"
Saxton held up his hands. "You know why."
"Your assertion that I used ZAT weaponry in a private capacity? You’ve provided zero evidence."
Saxton’s cheek twitched. "You're going to have to accept that, as an intelligence organization, we cannot disclose our full decision process."
"You needed this system. You still need the system. What’s going on?"
"At some point, you have to draw a line. And what’s perhaps unbelievable is the situation has got worse."
"What," Errington asked, "are you talking about?"
"Other evidence has come to my attention."
"Really? And what else are you saying Mr Jenson has done now?"
"Nothing." Saxton folded his arms. "This evidence is about you, Max."
Jenson spun on him. "What is he talking about?"
Errington shrugged. "I have no idea."
"Really?" Saxton asked. "Perhaps you’d like to explain your recent meeting with Regina Rose on board her yacht."
MI5’s legal counsel tapped into his laptop, then spun it around. A grainy video file was playing. Despite the low quality, it unmistakably showed Errington shaking hands with Rose.
"Max," growled Jenson. "Explain."
Errington rubbed his index fingers on his temples. "Rose has been a client for some time. I picked her up by accident and I’ve been trying to find a way out ever since. But she’s a hard client to fire. If you suggest it, she typically threatens to kill you. Especially when she wants something. And right now that’s for me to broker a deal with you. Obviously I said no."
"And you never mentioned this to me? Anyway, if you turned her down, why didn’t she kill you?"
"Maybe you should ask her. Because let’s not forget, you also used to have dealings with Rose."
Jenson’s cheek twitched. "I’ve heard enough of this." He walked towards the door. "Consider yourself fired, Max." Then he left the room.
Saxton stood up and glared at Errington. "Expect your law firm to be the target of a government enquiry in the very near future. I thought you were a good guy, Max, but if I never speak to you again, it will be too soon." He raised his voice. "This meeting is over."
Sixty-Four
The car was large, grey and several years old. While nobody would call it shabby, it was certainly unremarkable. Saxton used it only on those occasions when he had to lose the rather oppressive team of people usually watching his every move. He drove half an hour north, then parked in a nondescript car park next to some neatly tended gardens. He emerged from the vehicle, raised an umbrella against the light drizzle, and walked towards a cast-iron bench that already had a single familiar occupant. "Thanks for taking my call," Saxton said, as he brushed the water-drops from the bench before sitting.
"Unlike you to come out without your security detail," Errington replied.
"There aren't many people I trust enough to do so."
"And yet you still shafted me in that meeting. I'd hate to see what you do to your enemies."
"It was nothing personal. You must have known your past was going to catch up with you at some point."
"Don't try and spin me that nonsense. You’ve surely known about me and Rose for some time. Why bring it up today? Do you have some grudge against Jenson, or is it about ZAT?"
Saxton rubbed a hand through his grey hair. "Of course not."
"Then help me out here. Because I'm looking a considerable idiot right now."
"Some things are more important than your reputation."
Errington glared. "How long have we known each other, Warwick? I just want to know what is behind this. Maybe I can even help you."
Saxton chewed on his lower lip. "People around me keep getting information that changes their minds about important things. It’s like someone has some master plan that is pulling all our strings." He paused. "I'm being coerced."
Errington's eyebrows raised.
"I've been ordered to take ZAT off Parallel. I was provided with the information about Regina Rose and you, and told to use it against you."
"And the evidence about Jenson and the drones?"
"Also provided to me." Saxton gave a sigh. "Have you heard of a consultancy by the name of Kinek?"
"Why?"
"This is no time to be coy."
Errington sucked in his cheeks. "I’ve passed a couple of clients in their direction when they needed a problem solver."
"I thought that’s what you did?"
"I focus on legal problems. Kinek operates in a different sphere."
"A few years ago, MI5 needed to locate and recover some stolen classified data. We’d exhausted every lead open to us when I received an approach from Kinek. I was told that for a relatively small sum of money the situation could be resolved. I had them thoroughly vetted and everything checked out, so I went ahead." He took a deep breath. "I saved lives that day. Everything worked out beautifully and I never looked back. Since then I've used them many times and the results have been impressive. You could say that they got me where I am today but they’ve never asked anything of me in return besides fair payment. Until last week. After completing a background check on Jenson for me, they started inquiring about Parallel – which they should have known nothing about. Obviously this raised a flag, so I re-ran the background check on them." He stared off into the distance for a while, seeming to forget that he had company.
"And?" Errington pressed.
"They’ve vanished. All the data we validated previously has evaporated. Their offices are not only no longer occupied, but it appears they've never been occupied. It’s like Kinek never existed. Except, of course, they keep making demands of me."
"That suggests an incredible level of capability."
"They seem to cut through security like it isn't there. I assume they have a network of agents and spies, along with some pretty amazing technical resources. It must be a huge organisation. I’ve no idea how they are remaining undiscovered."
"So what’s their interest in Parallel?"
"The project was part of an initiative to create our own in-house capability in complex problem-solving. I’m assuming Kinek prefer that we remain bound to them."
"So they told you to kill the project?"
"They’re being quite insistent."
Errington cleared his throat. "And if you don't cooperate?"
"They'll go to the press with the evidence about Jenson. And they’ll show that I withheld it."
"So why are you telling me now?"
"Because I've decided to fight back. And I thought I could use the help of someone who has been affected too. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I respect your results."
"I don’t know if I can help this time."
Saxton stood up. "I'm sorry, Max. I shouldn't have told you all this. I've probably risked your safety. They could even be listening right now." He pulled out a small black box from his pocket. "This thing is supposed to jam all communications: I hope it's working right."
Errington looked around. "Back in my day you could trust tha
t if you were alone, you really were alone. Now somebody could be eavesdropping from a mile away, recording our every word. The world has changed, and it's only changing more and more every day. Look, maybe you should just accept this thing about Parallel. Nobody’s got hurt, so perhaps the best way to keep things that way is not make waves." He paused. "But of course if you need a good lawyer you've got my number."
Saxton patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks. But I'm the head of MI5. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. They won’t bring me down that easily."
Errington stood and smiled. "I believe you."
The eavesdroppers were only 800 metres away, and the jamming device had proved no obstacle. The two operatives listened intently until they watched the men go their separate ways. As expected, there was a call on their satellite phone almost immediately.
"It’s time to act. This issue cannot be allowed to grow."
The operative paused. "He is a man of some importance."
"It is necessary. Do whatever you need to do to take him out of the game."
Sixty-Five
Michael followed Kara through the front doors of Infinity’s offices. She ignored the receptionist, removing an access card from her purse and swiping it over the lift’s control panel. There was a soft chime as the doors opened. Inside, she pressed the button for the restricted ninth level.
"How long did you work here before they gave you that card?" he asked.
She glanced at him as the lift began to rise. "Max sorted it when I was working on a special project with him." She tucked the card back in her purse. "Now you need to focus because this isn't going to be easy. In fact, best if you let me do the talking."
"Is Mr Errington OK?"
"Max is Max. You should worry about your own hide right now. When a law firm loses a big client, the partners tend to look for someone to blame."
"You mean us?"
The lift doors chimed and opened. Duncan Nichol was waiting for them, his face thunderous.