Intentional Consequences

by Charles Harris

  She slowed her pace to make some calls from her Apple Watch. She left a long voicemail for the IT Director when he didn’t pick up. She also tried to call Dan, but he didn’t answer. She decided not to leave a voicemail. She tried to dictate a text to Dan on the watch, but the background noise kept garbling the message. She was finally able to reach Dan’s assistant by phone, who promised to find the IT Director and agreed not to bother Dan for another hour so Eva could try to reach him first.

  Just before Eva arrived back at the boathouse, she received a call on her watch from Dan’s IT Director, who immediately activated an emergency data breach protocol that included locking down accounts and calling the FBI. Before they were finished talking, the phone call on her watch cut off. She initially thought the watch battery had died, but the clock on the watch seemed to be fine. When she tried calling back, the watch displayed a message she needed to select a cellular plan for the watch. She tried it again, with the same result. Great, now I have no phone at all, she thought. Thank God it worked this long, she thought.

  Chapter 7

  As Eva drove the jet ski back onto the lift at the boathouse, the female officer waved to her from the top of the tramway and pushed the button to send the tram down. When Eva arrived at the top, the officer said, “Ma’am, you are one tough lady. I heard the gunshots right after I saw you swerve to a stop. Did he hit anywhere close to you?”

  Eva said, “First one missed. Second one hit the cowling on the jet ski. That’s when I realized I’d better stop.”

  “We’ll look. In the meantime, let’s get you back to the house. My partner’s up there and two other officers are checking the property. Some investigators will be over later.

  Eva asked, “Did they get the guy I was chasing?”

  The officer said, “No, he escaped before the police helicopter could find him. The chopper pilot thinks he was picked up by somebody, but he could have stashed a car someplace.

  “Do you have something to wear besides a towel? We retrieved your orange top from the bushes over there.”

  Eva looked down at the towel she’d wrapped around herself. “This will have to do for now.” The towel covered her from the tops of her breasts to mid-thigh, concealing even the shape of her body. She pulled it tighter. “I can put something better on up at the house. But I need to do some things on my computer. This guy wanted our passwords and he took my iPhone. I have to get online and wipe it.”

  They walked toward the house. The officer said, “Doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, but then I don’t understand technology stuff like some folks do. I sure never heard of anybody doing an armed invasion of an occupied house to steal some computer passwords.”

  Eva’s interaction with the rest of the police was less cordial. When she got back to the house, the policewoman’s partner and two other policemen were waiting in the kitchen. They looked Eva over head to toe as she walked in. After brief introductions, the policewoman’s partner said, “We need to ask you a few questions, Mrs. Johnson.”

  Eva said, “OK, but this guy stole our passwords and he has my iPhone. I need to get on my laptop and wipe my phone before he gets into our accounts any more than he already has. Once I’ve done that, I’d really like to rinse off in a hot shower and put some clothes on.”

  The policewoman said, “Ma’am, we need to preserve all the evidence we can find. Wiping information off your phone doesn’t sound like a good idea. Sorry to bring it up, but we’d like you to do a rape kit before you get a shower. And the crime scene guys will want the shorts and underwear you’re wearing once you take them off.”

  Eva pulled out a bar stool and sat down with her back to the counter, looking intensely at the officers. She said, “I’m not quite sure what to say, so please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m glad you’re here, but it’s been a bad day and I’ve never been through something like this. You’re welcome to the shorts. I’m not wearing any underwear. This guy threatened some ugly things and he cut the tie to my top with his knife, but he never sexually assaulted me. So, I’m not doing a rape kit. And unless you guys physically stop me from doing it, I am going to wipe my iPhone, if I still can.”

  Wrapped in her towel, she walked to her laptop on the desk in the kitchen. She sat down and logged in. While the police whispered to each other about what to do, she accessed her iCloud account and looked for her iPhone on the list of devices. “Damn,” she said. “It’s not here!” The IT Director had warned her that somebody who had her phone and her phone passcode and her Apple ID and password might be able to turn off the ‘Find My iPhone’ capability on the phone. Without that activated, she would be unable to remotely lock or erase the phone. She pulled up a browser and double-checked her steps. She tried to find the phone from iCloud on her laptop. No luck. The phone simply wasn’t accessible.

  She tried to call the IT Director on her watch before remembering it still had no phone service. She called Dan’s admin on her kitchen phone, gave her an update and asked her to go ahead and try to reach Dan. She also told her any calls needed to come to their home line. Standing up, she looked at the police and said, “Looks like I was too late. We’ll see if my husband’s IT guy can do any better when he gets here. Now I really want to get a shower.”

  After some discussion about how far the policewoman should go to assure chain of custody on the shorts, Eva got her shower. For the first time ever, she flipped the switch to turn the Smartglass shower glass to opaque. Rejuvenated, she pulled on black yoga tights and a loose white long-sleeved cotton work out shirt. Even though it was still Monday, the day was no longer happy.

  Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed a container of yogurt and an energy bar and sat down at the bar. Whatever unpleasantries she had experienced with the police before her shower returned in earnest as the responding officers questioned her while she ate.

  The questions started simply enough. What happened? Was she alone when the man appeared? Could she give them a description of the guy? Was he armed? What was he looking for? Could she explain what he wanted to do with the passwords? Why did he take her phone? Was it possible the man was after something else? Did he threaten her? Did he touch her? How did she get away from him? Why did she decide to run?

  Somewhere along the line, the questions became more suggestive. Did she know the man? Had she ever seen him before? Had she invited him to the house? Was she expecting him? Where was her husband? Why was he out of town? Was he living at the house? When would he be back? How would she describe their relationship? Were they having any marital problems? Did she have any children? Did the man know her husband?

  Then, more invasive questions. Had she done anything to lead the man on? Why had she taken her top off? Where did she take it off? Was the man with her when she did? What happened to the underwear she was wearing? Had she ever seen the fishing skiff before? Why did she take off on the jet ski? Why did she turn back? What did she do when she was out on the lake?

  After 45 minutes of this, Eva’s patience wore thin. She said, “OK, officers, I think that’s probably more than enough from my end for now. I’m really concerned about what this guy was after and what he or someone may be doing with the information he got. My husband’s IT people will be here in a few minutes. They’ve notified the FBI about a possible data breach. You’re welcome to stay to do your reports or whatever, but I need to talk with my husband and think about what we do next.”

  Chapter 8

  By the time Dan had landed at Westchester County Airport in White Plains, New York, he had terse text messages from his admin and his IT Director. The admin’s message simply said: “Armed intruder at your house this morning. Eva is OK. Police there. Her iPhone is missing. Call on home line.” The message from the IT Director read: “Possible data breach at your house. On way there. Spoke with Eva. FBI alerted. Changing access creds. Some accounts locked. Assume breach when using apps. Call ASAP.”

  The only passenger in the Citation X jet taxiing to the Signature Flight Support te
rminal, Dan called his home line and Eva’s cell. No one answered. He talked with his admin. Walking into the terminal, he reached his IT Director, who was on his way to the house.

  As Dan entered the terminal, the driver who was meeting him stepped over and introduced himself. “I’m John. When you’re ready, I’ll be taking you to meet Mr. Bernbach in Westport.”

  “Yes, John. Good to see you again. If you could watch my bag there, I need to make a quick call before we go.” Dan re-dialed his admin. “I can’t reach Eva. This is a bad day for something like this. I’m leaving the White Plains airport now. Once I get in my meetings, it’s going to be hard to talk with Eva and even harder if I need to fly back early. If you talk with her, tell her I spoke with you and I’ll do my best to reach her. She can call me if she needs to, but I may not be able to pick up. Tell her to text if she can, even if she has to use a different phone.”

  The drive to Westport in the BMW 750Li took 30 minutes. Dan used part of the time to call George Ball, who promised he and Mary would check on Eva. Dan also called his IT Director back to hear more about the data breach. Dan said, “I know they were using Eva’s passwords, but I don’t think this was about her or her company. I think they were trying to use her credentials to get access to JPAC’s data. Eva’s company is not much of a target.”

  When they arrived at the hedge fund’s campus in Westport, John took Dan to David Bernbach’s spacious office, which overlooked a small pond and the woods beyond.

  Shaking Dan’s hand, Bernbach offered his typically effusive welcome, “Dan, so good to see you again! I trust our pilots took proper care of you on the trip up?”

  “Yes, the flight was nice, as usual. I appreciate your sending the plane.”

  “Always glad to do that for you. You deserve to travel in style. I appreciate your coming up. We have a full schedule with some interesting people I think you’ll enjoy. John will get you by the house before dinner so you can get settled before the party this evening.”

  “As you know from the agenda, our first meeting this afternoon is with our global opportunities team. They’re a bright group. All of them have advanced degrees. About half are PhD’s. Exactly the kind of people you should be working with. None has your depth of experience.”

  They walked to the classroom-style room in the building next door. Dan turned off his phone as the session began.

  After the meeting, Bernbach took Dan on a walk around the wooded campus. Bernbach said, “You were very good back there. It’s easy to see why you’ve been so successful. We need to get you and Eva back down to St. Barth’s. The repairs from Hurricane Irma should be complete late this summer, just in time for another storm season, unfortunately. Are you still comfortable with our financial arrangements?”

  “Yes. I’ve enjoyed working with you separately from JPAC. It was a good suggestion on your part. You’ve made the economics and fringe benefits very attractive. I’ve particularly enjoyed the exposure you’ve given me. I’ve learned a lot.”

  “Good. As I’ve said before, your work is the future of politics. You’re at the top of your game in political analytics and technology. You’ve also positioned yourself to have access to a lot of very valuable information about political candidates, PACs and their campaign strategies and results. But to the candidates and the real people in power, you’re still a hired hand—although a very good one to be sure. You deserve to have a seat at the table with the kings, the king makers and the other political elites. I’m committed to help you get there.”

  “I appreciate the opportunity.”

  “So, if it’s alright with you, we’ll continue our informal retainer arrangement with the funds being transferred monthly into your personal offshore account. With the 2020 election approaching, we’ll double the amount starting next month. If your schedule permits, we’ll get you and Eva out to my Jackson Hole house over the summer and back to St. Barth’s this fall. I’d also like to see you come up for some of my meetings with political leaders and contributors. We’ll send a plane, of course.”

  “That’s very generous. Do you still expect to use JPAC for some of your issue campaigns and related work?”

  “Yes, absolutely. Most of the candidates we’ll be supporting will do the same. Our people will go through your JPAC business development team for those relationships, just as they have before.”

  When they returned to the building with Bernbach’s office, Dan turned his phone back on and took a few minutes to catch up on his calls. He had missed three calls from his home phone and several texts from unknown numbers, which turned out to be from Eva. By the time he reached her, Eva was pissed. After listening to Dan’s apology for being tied up, Eva gave him the short version of what happened.

  “That’s awful. Thank God, you’re OK,” Dan said. “I’m still trying to see if I can get home tonight.”

  “You don’t need to come back early. I can stay with George and Mary tonight. Mary’s on her way over and George will come by after 6:00. Between the police and your IT people, it’s still a zoo here. There’s not a lot you can do here. Finish your meetings and I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner. If you need me later tonight, call Mary or George.”

  Dan talked with his IT Director again and checked in with George. Satisfied, he phoned Eva back and said he would stay.

  ◆◆◆

  After doing what they could to assess the damage, Dan’s IT Director and a colleague performed some initial remediation on the data breach. They helped Eva change every possible password and security question, adding two-factor authentication where none had existed. In the process, they logged any “account last accessed” dates and times the site displayed to make it easier to see which accounts had been accessed by the thieves. Given the number of accounts, it was a time-consuming, tedious process.

  Eva used her home phone to reach Steve Cole, who had already heard from Dan’s IT Director. Cole listened to her first-hand story, which had been rubbed raw by repetition and fatigue.

  Cole said, “I’m glad you’re alright. You need some sleep. We can talk in the morning. One thought for now: Dan’s IT people sound like this was somebody trying to gain access to their company, not ours. I’m not so sure. We’re going to coordinate with the JPAC IT team, but we’re not going to rely on them for the answers. Our internal people are already working on the forensics with our outside cybersecurity experts, so we may know more by tomorrow.”

  By 4:00 o’clock, a police detective and a crime scene tech showed up. Early that evening, an FBI data breach expert appeared from the closest FBI Field Office, in San Antonio.

  Chapter 9

  John drove Dan to Bernbach’s estate on Long Island Sound. Set on four waterfront acres with two tennis courts and a large pool, the three-story shingle-style main house had bleached grey exterior walls with white trim. The matching out buildings included a five-car garage with two guest apartments above it and a detached guest house where Dan was spending the night. The interior of the main house was a showplace of privilege and tasteful elegance. This was Dan’s third overnight visit to the estate and as usual Bernbach had scheduled a dinner party.

  The event began at 7:00 p.m. with cocktails and hors d'oeuvres in the gathering room overlooking the water. Dan arrived early. He had traded his business suit for a stylish Zegna sport coat and a Hermes silk tie with a white shirt over grey slacks. Accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter, Dan stood by a window watching the late afternoon sun glisten off the waves of the Sound. A sailboat was beating its way south about halfway to the horizon. The setting and the gathering were straight from the pages of Town & Country magazine.

  “Hi, Dan, welcome back,” a soft voice behind him said.

  Dan turned to see Tara Hope, a striking blonde woman he had met on his last trip to Westport. Holding a glass of champagne, she smiled and gave Dan a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Tara, I was hoping you’d be here!” Dan looked at her. As tall and trim as Dan, she was wearing a black silk tuxed
o. With no shirt and a loosely tied belt, her jacket framed tan skin from her neck to her waist. It was a sophisticated look that combined sensuality and power and hinted at the wealth she enjoyed. Bernbach had introduced them when they were both guests at the dinner party he hosted when Dan was up last. Hope had said she was “one of David’s political friends from over in Greenwich.” As Dan had learned later in the evening, that was an understatement. She was the widow of the billionaire founder of a successful real estate hedge fund. Her husband and their two children had died in a tragic private plane crash in the Bahamas two years earlier, just before her 37th birthday. She had not remarried.

  They were soon joined by a young female professor who taught economics at Yale University, and an older male professor who taught political science there. After some boring small talk, Hope edged Dan away to mingle among the other guests with her at his side.

  By the time they were called into the ornately paneled dining room for the seated dinner for 24, Dan had met most of Bernbach’s guests, including a former member of the Federal Reserve Board and his wife, a Democratic Congressman from Connecticut and the CEOs of two Fortune 500 companies and their spouses. Bernbach made a special point of introducing him to Leonard Mayer, the publisher of the Sentinel Observer media group in Boston, and Joan Berry, who was a sexy young understudy for the female lead in a Broadway musical. At dinner, Dan found himself seated between Mayer and Tara Hope. With pixie cut black hair and large bedroom eyes, Berry was sitting directly across from him, wearing black slacks with a low-cut cream silk blouse.

  After desert, most of the diners retired to the paneled library for after-dinner drinks. Hope lingered with Dan as she had at the last party.