Infiltrator

by Bob Blink

  And what's with this alien shit? You know I don't like people pulling my chain on that. It's serious business even if the rest of you don't realize it. Someday everyone will realize I'm right.

  What do you want that I can do for you, not that I necessarily will? And don't suggest any meetings. I learned last time, and from little I got from Tammy, that's a ticket to a spell in the slammer.

  Mark read the note a second time. Better than he feared, but not as good as he hoped. Of course Fred could be scamming him, having turned him in and now getting him on the hook for the Feds in hopes he'd give away enough they could grab him. But he knew Fred, and he didn't think so. The alien line might have done it. He knew Fred would be desperately wanting to be vindicated on the subject. He thought for a moment, then typed a response, hoping that Fred would still be standing by.

  Not kidding Fred. There's real proof the aliens exist here in D.C. I had some, but had to pass it along. They've killed over a dozen with a weapon that makes one simply vanish. Remember the woman I was shown shooting. She was taken over by them, and was using one of the weapons when I shot her. Had to in order to protect a friend. They didn't capture her using it or are suppressing that part of the video. Here's another thing. The woman's brain had been altered. FBI autopsy showed it, but the Medical Examiner's report was somehow altered after he filed it. Now's he's dead too, so that proof is gone.

  Mark sent the brief note. It took only a minute, and Fred's brief reply came back.

  Bullshit!

  That was it. Mark typed another note and quickly sent it, fearful he might have lost his former co-worker.

  The weapon is real. I had my hands on one, but gave it to someone who is going to have it analyzed. Maybe I can find some way you can check that I'm telling you the truth.

  Mark sent the note and waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. A full half hour later and there was no reply.

  "Damn it!" he swore.

  It appeared he'd blown the one chance to get the help that might lead them to other clones and maybe even the aliens themselves.

  They found him where their inquiries said he'd be, in a rundown diner in an equally run down part of town more than ten miles from the office. Why he'd come all this way to eat in such dreary surroundings was a mystery, but hardly one worth solving. Burrows slid onto the bench seat cross from him, with Mitch following suit. They could safely come into D.C. without worry of being tracked since neither had the alien node, but they did have to worry about being spotted. Burrows enjoyed immensely the startled look of complete surprise that crossed Sully's face when he looked up to see who was disturbing his lunch.

  "Where's your partner?" Burrows asked before Sully could say anything.

  "He eats where he likes, I eat where I like. We're not married. Why? What do you care?" Switching topics, he asked, "Did they let you go, or did you escape somehow? It wasn't reported at the morning meeting."

  "Neither," Burrows responded. "I was never a prisoner."

  "But the news and the Director said that . . ."

  "They were wrong. They have a lot of things wrong, some on purpose and some not."

  Sully's eyes shifted to Mitch sitting quietly next to Burrows.

  "Who is this? I've never seen him around before. A new partner? Geller get tired of you already?"

  "Geller's dead," Burrows said softly.

  Dead?" Sully asked, his eyes suddenly widening. "How?"

  "He was killed during the attack at the clinic, but not by the people everyone is implying. The real situation is far more complex."

  Sully looked over at Mitch, who as yet hadn't been introduced and said, "You better be careful around this guy. He's had two partners killed out from under him this month alone. I could have warned Geller," he added, "but the jerk wouldn't have listened."

  "Enough with the smart remarks," Burrows said sharply. "I'm here because I need your help."

  "You need my help? Why would you need my help? What can I do that you can't do yourself?"

  "Okay," here's the deal," Burrows said. "I'm not back, not officially. No one else has seen me. I've stumbled into something, and I can't go back to the Bureau. I wouldn't last a day."

  "You make it sound like someone is after you," Sully said.

  "Someone is, and I need to find out who before making a formal reappearance. What do you know of Max and my disappearance?"

  "Just what has been released by the Bureau. Apparently the two of you were present at a clinic where some of our suspects in the Parker case made an appearance. Indications were that they abducted the two of you. Turned out bad for Max, huh?"

  "And how do you think we just happened to be at the clinic, conveniently when there was a shootout to take place?"

  "One would assume you have developed some informants on the case. They must have known something."

  Burrows was shaking his head before Sully finished.

  "That's not what happened. Max and I were sent there to be killed. I got lucky, Max didn't. But I saw some things, including the way that Max died that made me realize almost everything we've been told about this case is wrong. Do some checking, Sully. The shootout wasn't Jessie Carter and Mark Wilson and his friends against us. Geller and I never fired a shot, and were in the same location as the fugitives we were supposedly there to apprehend. So who were they shooting at, and why does the crime scene indicate no shots were fired back? In truth there were shots fired in return, but not with a weapon you'd be familiar with. And a number of people died, but as you probably know no bodies were found. Odd, no?"

  "I heard there were some irregularities, but never thought much about it," Sully admitted. "So why me?" he asked.

  "Because no one would suspect you might be helping me. You've always hated me. And, I have access to you, which might be harder with others. And now that I've told you this much, you're a target as well. If anyone suspects you might know what's going on, you'll disappear also."

  "So this is just a way to get back at me?"

  "I wish I were that petty, but no, this is really serious business. More so than I'm going to tell you."

  "If you think someone in the Bureau wants you eliminated, then go to management," Sully said. "Not me."

  Burrows nodded his head. "Management is the problem. I'm certain the culprit is either the Director himself or the Assistant Director."

  Sully wasn't ready for that.

  "You want me to investigate the Director?"

  "Certain things. Things even you should be able to find out," Burrows replied. "I want to know if he has been acting unusual of late. I also want to know his vacation history for the past three years. Days he was away from work, especially single day events. Oh, and what kind of phone he has."

  "What kind of phone?" Sully asked. "What can vacations and the type of phone tell you about what he might have put in place against you. This is bogus. I know you're trying to destroy my career. How about this? I don't help you at all. I go back to the Bureau and go and see the Director and tell them that you approached me and everything you've just said? They'll know you've turned traitor, and I'll be rewarded for turning you in."

  "Because then you'll soon be dead," Burrows said. "Just like the M.E. who examined Monica Parker's body and learned things he shouldn't."

  "What kind of things?" Sully asked, suddenly curious.

  "She, and Pam Chou, had both been physically altered, for lack of a better term. I haven't time to tell you the full thing, but just know that the autopsy on both have been changed, and the M.E. murdered to cover it up."

  "This all sounds like some far-fetched conspiracy theory. I want no part of it. So, I don't turn you in, but I'm not gonna get involved. Do your own investigation."

  Burrows shook his head.

  "Here's something else to consider. How about I release a file that Duke put together on your handling of the Barnes case? That would certainly give your career a boost."

  Sully paled at the mention of the Barnes case. Duke had come to him almost
a year ago and told him what he knew. Sully had been relieved when Duke was gone, feeling that threat was gone forever.

  "So, you're just like everyone else, after all. I thought you were above such maneuvering. That was a Duke characteristic. Besides, Barnes was guilty as hell."

  "So Duke told me, but you couldn't have proven it, so you set him up. The Bureau doesn't work that way."

  Burrows had been upset when he'd come back from vacation and learned what Duke had done. He'd threatened to go to the Director with what he'd learned, but it would have taken Duke down also, and Sully was right that Barnes had been guilty. He'd been a very bad, and very tricky criminal. So now he was dirtying his hands by using the material to move Sully, but this was too important. He'd use the tools he had.

  "It's very simple, Sully," he said. "Find out what I asked, or the Bureau will learn of your manipulation of the crime scene data to convict Barnes. I'm certain you'll do well going private after the hearing."

  Mark was stunned to find the note the following morning. Heart thumping, he quickly opened the file and scanned what Fred had written.

  Okay, so some of your story checks out. The ME that filed the autopsy on Monica Parker is dead, just a day or so after the filing. I also hacked into the FBI system. Didn't have time to finish what I wanted to see, but there are leftovers that say the file was indeed changed, but someone tried to carefully erase all traces of the modification. They were good enough that they didn't leave any of the original document, but not good enough to completely mask they made the change. So maybe you are telling the truth.

  What is it you need?

  Mark read the time associated with the message. It had been sent a couple of hours ago, so it was unlikely that Fred was simply sitting waiting for him to respond after this long. He typed the message he'd already formulated in his mind.

  I need to have a program inserted into NSA's filtering system to search all DC area cellular calls for the strange burst you said would be part of any message that would trigger the audio files in my phone. I want to know who might be receiving such messages and even more importantly where they are coming from. The results, of course, should be confidential and only sent to you. Wouldn't want anyone else to get curious about what triggered the search.

  Can you do it?

  Mark sent the message and sat back, wondering how long before Fred would spot the message and how he would react. He was about to get up and go back and tell the others the matter wasn't dead after all when, Fred's reply popped up on the screen.

  Of course I can, but why should I? Putting something unauthorized like that into the system is more than a firing offense. I could easily find myself enjoying an extended stay in one of the local penal colonies.

  Mark replied.

  You might just end up being remembered as the guy who proved that aliens are making a move against us.

  The reply took several minutes, and Mark wondered if he'd lost Fred again.

  I still think you're pulling my chain on the aliens angle, but let me think about it. I'll be on line same time tomorrow.

  Chapter 39

  Two Days Later

  "You're looking a bit glum this morning," Mark noted as he slid onto the chair opposite Jessie, his mug of hot coffee in hand. They might be short on a great many things, but at least they had a plentiful supply of liquid caffeine.

  "Ed and I have concluded that the JCS Chairman recommended by Glen isn't a viable target," she replied. "We were lucky with the Senator, but if anything, the General is busier than the Senator. In addition to a very full work calendar, he has a family which he makes every effort to spend time with to make up for the long hours he spends at the Pentagon. Making off with him, even assuming we could find a way to do so, for even a few hours, isn't going to go undetected. Maybe if we could shadow him for a few weeks we might find an opening, but based on what we've learned, we are going to have to look elsewhere. Sadly, there just aren't that many targets that have the political power to accomplish what we want. Maybe if we didn't care if it was known that we took him. Ed wants to settle for that, but I don't think that's gonna get us what we want."

  "Any alternate targets?"

  "We're working on a list," Ed said taking a seat at the table to join them. "How about the Fred project? Is that ever going to get going?"

  Fred promises me that he'll upload the software he created to perform the search tomorrow. Gaining access and slipping something like that in isn't all that simple. They try to be careful and have such things controlled. Quality Control has to approve everything that is input to the operational system."

  "Then how is he going to slip in something that hasn't been fully looked at?" Jessie asked.

  "Much of the code is incredibly complex," Mark explained. "Thousands of lines of code. Seldom does every line get looked at by an independent coder. The project lead is supposed to look at the full listing, but I seldom checked everything Fred did. For one thing, I wouldn't have understood some of his trickier items, and it would take too long. Instead of trying to reverse engineer what he did, which actually takes longer than writing it, the testing was a more efficient and reliable means of verifying everything works as desired. Besides, programmers do some odd things sometimes. I recall one time I was trying to check something Fred did for me. I spent two days trying to figure out why he spent hundreds of lines of code to define several key variables, and then, near as I could tell, redefined them as something else without ever having used the initial definitions."

  "And" Jessie asked.

  "Oh, when I asked him, he explained it was too much work to sort out all the code, and when he thought of a better approach he simply redefined everything and went on. The computer didn't care that he never used the original result, and it was so fast that no one would ever be able to measure the time cost of the unused calculations."

  "That seems like an approach that would give the programmers an opportunity to input stuff that wasn't planned," Ed said.

  "It does," Mark agreed. "If we were at the coding phase of the project, Fred could easily slip in something like we asked for and no one would know. All of the programmers do it to one degree or another. Most put in back doors to allow them access without the usual passwords, or a route where they can alter certain variables normally not accessible to the user."

  "And Fred is going to use one of the back doors somehow?" Jessie asked.

  Mark nodded. "The basic program is set in stone, so to speak. But to operate, it uses a number of data files to set key parameters. Hidden in the files is the new stuff that we want. It will load, and the file will then self-destruct. There are thousands of such files, so it is very unlikely anyone would notice."

  "And the upload of this software is scheduled for tomorrow?" Ed asked. "That's what we have been delaying for?"

  "Yup," Mark agreed. "So keep your fingers crossed. Hopefully we'll start seeing some indications of where the signals originate from, and if there are many users out there who are being controlled."

  "That's encouraging," Ed said. "The rest of our little projects aren't fairing so well."

  "What about Burrows?" Mark asked. "I thought he had someone inside who was helping?"

  "Apparently he's heard nothing since the original contact with an Agent named Sully. Burrows told me last night that he fears Sully has decided to call his bluff, or worse might have informed those we are interested in about our interest. If he did, this Sully character might just have signed his own death warrant."

  "More dead ends, I see," Janet said as she joined the group. "Glen and I are not encouraged by the prospects to pull off a trap of any kind."

  "I had my doubts on that one from the beginning," Jessie said. "We don't have the manpower to support a reasonable plan."

  "Add to that, being hunted ourselves, we aren't free to operate in a way that would make a setup really feasible."

  "We also don't know just how many clones these extraterrestrials might have available. We could easily ge
t in a situation where we have trapped ourselves," Glen said. "We need real military backing to pursue the kind of plan that we could hope to be successful."

  "That leaves our Senator friend," Mark said. "There haven't been any stories on the news to suggest he has betrayed us, but its been long enough without any word I'm starting to wonder if he just pushed the whole thing out of his mind and has forgotten about us."

  "Here comes Steph, and she appears to be smiling," Janet noted. "Maybe she has news."

  Mark couldn't help a quick glance toward Glen, and was certain he spotted a hint of a secret smile there. While he hadn't seen any further indications something was developing between the pair, he was certain the late night visit he'd spotted hadn't been an isolated event.

  "Good morning, guys," Steph said as she joined them, setting a multi-page printout on the table.

  "News?" Ed asked.

  Steph nodded happily. "The Senator, at last."

  "And, what does he say?" Mark asked, encouraging her to continue.

  "I think I should read his letter. It's kind of long, and you should hear the way he says things."

  She picked up the papers and getting encouraging glances from the others, began to read.

  I assume you are all safe somewhere, since there has been no news of your being arrested. I hope your other enemy hasn't been more successful than local law enforcement. I will wait anxiously for your reply to this note.

  I have been remiss in getting back to you, but frankly you left quite a task to implement, especially given your directive that I should work in secret as much as possible. My usual schedule leaves me little spare time, and I've had to gradually pull away from certain tasks to make time. But, here's where I'm at.