“I’m sure my blood pressure’s been lower.”
“They’ve been in there for twelve minutes,” said Marchand.
“Not that long,” said Alex.
Everyone sat in silence for awhile.
“It’s been almost twenty minutes now,” said Marchand.
“And here they come,” said Alex, stepping out of the car and walking up the driveway to greet them. One of the guys was waving at everyone to return to the building. When Alex was abreast of the three men, Robin indicated he wanted to speak with Alex and accompanied him through the entrance doors.
“Where’s the envelope?” said Alex.
“I left it on your desk, sergeant.”
“I take it everything is okay.”
“Well, the good news first: the envelope is definitely not a bomb.”
“I was thinking plastic explosive.”
“That was a possibility.”
“Sorry to bring you out for no reason.”
“Not a problem, Alex. Always better to be safe than sorry. Let’s you and I go to your office. Alone. You need to see the contents of the package ASAP. They made their way quickly to his office. Alex picked up the FedEx package and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
“What the hell,” he said softly. “Did you get a look at this?”
“I did. It didn’t take long to figure out what it is.”
“Anyone else get a look at this?”
“No. Just me.”
“Okay. Not a word to anyone. You’re clear on that?”
“Copy that.”
“Someone from E Division will no doubt touch base with you.”
Robin nodded.
“Why don’t you guys get back to the motel and have dessert while the kitchen’s still open,” said Alex. He moved around the desk to his chair and sat down.
“We’ll do that.” Robin left the room, closing the door behind him.
Alex quickly read through the printed note and scanned the lines of code. He pulled out his burner and called Kennedy. He picked up, and Alex filled him in.
“You’re saying an unidentified person, who goes by the username wikem, found an encrypted message on the RCMP Prince George server.”
“Correct. The message was in the administrator email account of George Killam.”
“So. Wikem's a hacker.”
“I would assume.”
“And he deciphered the code?”
“He did,” said Alex.
“When does the ship dock?”
“Six am this coming Sunday.”
Kennedy did a quick calculation. “We have about sixty hours till the ship docks.”
“There’s more. Our hacking friend sent a note along with his gift. George Killam is under contract with us as an internet security consultant, at least according to the PG staff roster, where he has been under contract for the past twenty-two months, through an outfit called Palindrome Security. Killam also has had admin privileges on our 100 Mile House server for the last forty days, according to our hacker friend.
“Our server? 100 Mile House! What the fuck! Brandeis is flying up tonight with a team. I’ll be in as soon as I arrange accommodation for them. Marchand and Goodwin are with you?”
“They are. I’ll make copies of the envelope for everyone coming up.”
“Make ten copies. I’m on my way.”
Alex started on multiple copies of the contents of the envelope except for one sheet, folded into a sealed envelope addressed to him. Inside were carefully printed, detailed instructions on how to communicate with wikem. Once he’d prepared packages for Brandeis’ team, he retreated to the washroom at the end of his wing and locked himself in. Before he could access the email account the hacker had given him, his instructions were to download the Tor browser. Once he’d done that, he did a search for the protonmail login, typed in [email protected] and the password: starshine101. He opened the unsent draft message.
Welcome Alex
He responded:
Thank you for your help. The police are acting on the information you supplied. Can you tell me who you are?
He exited the server and moved the Tor browser icon to a blank screen. He didn’t want to have to explain it if anyone should notice.
Chapter 5
Kennedy arranged for Inspector Brandeis and his team to stay at a lodge about thirty kilometres from 100 Mile House. It was closed until March, but he knew the owner. He used the cover that the booking was a favour to a friend in Vancouver who worked in the human resources department of a tech company—upper management in need of a venue for their annual retreat—explaining that their originally booked spot had flooded due to a busted pipe. Brandeis was going to bring a cook with him, but Kennedy had someone he knew and trusted, a local guy who’d done work for him before, semiretired, and ex-military. He’d be at the lodge by six in the morning, with groceries for a few days.
Brandeis arrived at the 100 Mile House Airport just before midnight. Kennedy and a contingent of cars met them and took them to the lodge. Alex was waiting for them there in the large common room that would serve as the war room. It had internet access via satellite. Brandeis spotted Alex as he came in and immediately strode over to him to say hello, brusque and to the point.
“Hi Alex! Helluva thing.”
“I’ll say.”
“How’s your wife taking all this?”
“She’s a tough gal.”
“I hear Kennedy’s assigned a couple of bodyguards.” Alex glanced over at Marchand and Goodwin.
“My drivers.”
“Okay. We’ll pull them in. So, you figure our bomber’s in the area, or was.”
“Either him, or a proxy, had to be close enough to monitor the camera footage.”
“Sounds pretty old school.”
“He didn’t have much choice. Gwen and I are pretty old school; these days at least.”
Brandeis smiled. Alex continued.
“Explosive materials used are not readily available.”
“You think it’s Kirigin?”
Alex nodded. “I’m sure he’s still around. Unfinished business.” Alex didn’t add that he felt the bomber’s presence.
Kennedy joined them and filled Brandeis in on steps they’d already taken to try to apprehend the guy.
“Needle in a haystack,” said Brandeis.
Kennedy looked at Alex, his face grim; said nothing.
The Surrey team got right to it. They pushed a couple of tables together, then grabbed coffee and snacks from the counter in the kitchen where Goodwin had laid them out. Cases snapped open and laptops appeared around the table. Kennedy quickly introduced the 100 Mile House staff as he passed around the briefing notes, which included the Wi-Fi password.
“Make sure we have an internet connection,” said Brandeis. This was the first time any of them had seen the deciphered text, or the anonymous note with additional information. There was a silence as everyone started to read through the notes.
“Do we have anything on George Killam?” asked a redhead named Ray.
“Killam’s on contract at the Prince George detachment!” said another, answering him.
“Holy shit,” muttered Corporal Stuart, a burly thirty-something guy with a shock of graying hair.
“I assume we don’t know who our hacker friend is?” said Corporal Kumari, a South-Asian woman in her late twenties.
“The FedEx originated in Prince George. For now, we’re assuming the hacker lives there or close by,” said Kennedy.
“The hacker shouldn’t get a free pass,” said Ray. No one commented and the room fell silent for a few moments. “Well, you know what I mean,” he finished lamely.
Alex thoughts went to the note from the hacker, which he had carefully folded into his wallet. He was keeping it to himself and had given no consideration to sharing it, although he hadn’t yet examined that decision.
“This can’t be happening! Surely K
illam would have been vetted!” Ray piped up.
“George Killam is most likely an alias for Gregori Kirigin. My guess is Ford MacLeish hired Kirigin,” Alex pointed out. “No one would’ve batted an eye.” Everyone at the table knew that MacLeish, who was taking up space in a cell in Surrey Pretrial since arrested, was an Inspector, the highest rank in the RCMP.
The table fell silent for a moment as the implication sunk in.
“For twenty-two months, Kirigin had the run of the PG server,” said Kumari. “He had access to the Canadian Police Information Centre database. He would know there’s a warrant for his arrest.”
“And for his partner, Eric Severall,” added Brandeis quietly. Kumari nodded.
“And he would have access to the PRIME BC database and would have pulled everything on our case against him and his cronies from the Justice Department database,” said Stuart.
“He’d know Batlan had been turned and he would also know exactly what he’d told the Crown.”
“So, he killed him, or had him killed,” said Alex. “He may have hired someone to assist. Maybe he took care of Batlan himself; he seems to be a hands-on kind of guy.”
“And lots of opportunity for him to gain access to RCMP files across Canada, the head office server in Ottawa and all of our global links to law enforcement in every country in the world,” said Kumari, completing her summary of the damage quite succinctly.
“Exactly,” said Brandeis. “Head office was informed immediately; they’re started a probe of their systems, but it’s understood that they’re in lockstep with us, until we rescue the trafficked victims. Kirigin has been using Palindrome Security as cover. We must ascertain whether Palindrome has been duped, or whether, as I suspect, they’re participants? We have a window here, to identify as many players as we can before the leak is identified. We don’t have much time.”
“Now we know. What do we do first?” said Kumari.
“Our priority is the trafficked victims. We’ll be there to meet Golden Harvest when it docks in Prince Rupert. I’ve started the ball rolling for the take-down,” said Brandeis. “The first undercover team will be up there early tomorrow morning. Second team later the same day. I spoke with the Canada Coast Guard Commissioner. They’ll be assisting us from their Seal Cove base. It’s a stone’s throw from Prince Rupert. But I want to keep our profile low for the moment. CCGS Tanu is the best ship for us, especially if it transpires that we need to do a sea rescue; six officers and nine crew and berths for sixteen more. There’s an incident room on board. Its home base is Patricia Bay on Vancouver Island. The commissioner has called it up to the Hecate Strait on a training exercise. It should be at the CCG Seal Cove base by tomorrow, late afternoon.”
“Prince Rupert is a small town,” said Alex. “Everyone knows everyone. Are we keeping the Rupert detachment out of this?”
“Ottawa agrees that the Rupert Detachment will have no knowledge of any of this until we’re on the ground up there, and only if we need them. Kumari, Stuart, we’re going to need a big net.” They shared a glance.
“Razum. That’s Russian for brilliant,” piped up Stuart, reading from the notes. “I’ll bet the guy thinks he’s untouchable.”
“A Russki. You could set a trap,” said Ray. “Plant some files.”
“We don’t have time for the long game,” said Brandeis. “Palindrome is our best lead.”
“It’s going to be a bitch getting in,” said Ray.
“Maybe not,” said Kumari with confidence. “Don’t forget H. B. Gary.” She was referring to the attack by the hacktivist group Anonymous that left that company totally exposed.
“Kumari’s right,” said Stuart, with a wink in her direction. “We’ll get in.” She pretended to ignore him.
“Let’s get to work,” said Brandeis. “When does the cook get here?”
“In a few hours,” said Kennedy.
Marchand and Goodwin drove Alex back to the motel. Once they left, he got undressed and climbed into bed with Gwen. She was awake and he caught her up on the day’s events.
“So the focus is here now,” said Gwen.
“Split between Vancouver and here.” Alex didn’t mention Prince Rupert just yet.
“You must be exhausted sweetheart,” he said.
“I am. You must be too. We could both use some rest.”
Gwen turned out the table lamp at her side and snuggled down beside him. Alex waited until he was sure she was asleep before he slid out of bed, retrieved his burner, and retreated to the bathroom. He pulled up the protonmail account.
Welcome Alex
Thank you for your help. The RCMP are acting on the information you supplied. Can you tell me who you are you?
No. Too risky for me.
Alex added a new message:
Understood. Prince Rupert is covered. There is a concern that Palindrome Security could be involved in the ring as a major player. Time is short. Do you have any further information that could be useful?
And please be careful. Killam, or Kirigin is a dangerous man.
He logged out and carried the phone back to his bedside table. He set his alarm to give himself a few hours’ sleep. Gwen didn’t stir when he returned to bed.
Alex was a team player, and while he wasn’t above keeping unnecessary information from the higher ups, not sharing details of the note from the hacker was a first for him. It was the password to the protonmail account that held him back. Wikem was a Secwépemc word. He was sure of that, but he couldn’t remember the exact meaning. He, or she, was one of his own. Which might explain the offer to help, despite the risk of being discovered and charged.
Alex had another level of concern. The hacker was swimming in dangerous water and so identifying wikem was a top priority. But if he did identify the person, would he share that information with command?
Chapter 6
Alex woke to his alarm and checked his phone. Kennedy wanted to meet at eight am. And there was a new message from the hacker.
Thank you for your concern Alex but I think you are in greater danger than me. I can’t be tracked.
Palindrome contracts look legit. But your people will find that one of the original financial backers is a guy named Eric Severall. Severall links to Kirigin, but you already know that.
Alex realized with a start that the guy was familiar with Severall which meant he was familiar with the trafficking files. And he wasn’t hiding the fact. He probably made regular visits to the 100 Mile House server—and is probably reading my emails, thought Alex. The thought made him uncomfortable.
Gwen was awake by six thirty am. Alex gave their breakfast order to the officer at the door and they were eating by seven. Shortly after they finished, Marchand and Goodwin arrived to get him. They hadn’t had breakfast and phoned in an order to Barney’s for takeout. They made it to the office just before eight am. Alex went directly to Kennedy’s office, went in, and closed the door behind him.
“You look pretty good for a guy who was nearly blown to pieces.” It was Kennedy’s way of coping. His face told Alex the real story. He was afraid for him, liked him even—it helped that his solve rate had been consistently high for years. His partner Eugene would put it a little differently. He could hear him: It’d be a bitch if he lost his Shuswap all-star. Pronouncing Secwépemc correctly was beyond Eugene. Alex didn’t mind; he valued him as a partner, and as a friend.
“How’s Gwen?”
“She’s pretty much had it with the motel room. When I left, she was trying to talk the guys into taking her to the library.”
“Can’t say that I blame her,” said Kennedy. There must be someone who can drop some books off.”
“I want to check out the FedEx connection in Prince George this morning,” said Alex. “We can’t ask the detachment there to do it. I’d like to ID our hacker.”
“Needle in a haystack, Alex.”
“Maybe. I won’t spend a lot of time on it, but I figure it’s wo
rth a shot and Prince George is close.”
Kennedy nodded. “Eugene Munroe isn’t back till next week. You must be missing him. He’d sure be handy right now.”
Alex nodded. “He needed the holiday. We work him too hard.”
“Where’d he go again?”
“Skiing at Big White.”
“Ah,” said Kennedy, who loved to ski. “I’m heading to the lodge when I’m done here. When you get back from Prince George, join us there.”
By nine am, the three men were on their way; Marchand at the wheel, Goodwin up front with him, Alex stretched out and comfortable in the back. Two hours later, they pulled into the parking lot of the FedEx office located in the downtown core of Prince George and went in.
There were two people on this morning, an older man, and a young woman. Alex approached the counter. The woman, whose name tag read Kathy, had no customers and he spoke with her first, describing the envelope and the fact that there was no return address.
“I think I would’ve noticed that. Do you have a picture of the guy?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” said Alex. “The reason I’m hoping you’ll remember is that the package was sent to the 100 Mile House RCMP detachment office. Don’t you usually insist on a return address?”
“We do. It could be that it just got missed.” She looked pointedly over to the man at the other wicket.
“So, you don’t remember anyone, not sure what age, sending a package to us some time yesterday morning?”
“Not me. For sure not.”
Alex waited for the male clerk to finish with his customer, then approached him and flashed his badge. His name tag read Bill. He asked him the same question.
“Hmm,” said Bill, shaking his head. “Not that I recall.”
“Do you keep copies of receipts for packages sent?”
“We do, yes. Just let me think,” said Bill. It was clear he didn’t like being rushed. Alex caught Kathy rolling her eyes and he smiled hopefully at Bill.
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