by Andrew Watts
“Hello?”
The man said, “Your schedule says that you’re free after this meeting. Would you mind coming to see me?”
Colt glanced at Pace, who snorted. “God, Sean, you’re scaring the guy. Colt, this is Sean Miller, our head of security.”
Miller frowned. “Mr. McShane, I’m told you need a security briefing to get fourth-floor access. I have time if you do.”
Colt glanced at Pace, who looked impressed as he said, “Welcome to the club.” Pace turned to Miller. “Just make sure to go easy on the rectal probe, Sean.”
Miller glared at Pace. “My office is down the hall on the right. Just come on down when you’re finished.”
“Sure thing,” said Colt.
Pace’s meeting soon adjourned, and Colt was at the security head’s office within minutes.
“Please have a seat.”
Colt took the chair across from Miller’s desk, noticing several pictures on the wall. Miller in military fatigues decades earlier. Miller in khakis and a dark polo, standing next to a tent in the desert. Miller wearing aviator sunglasses, a rifle slung over his shoulder, with what looked like the mountains of Afghanistan in the background.
“You served in the military?” Colt asked as he sat.
“Among other things,” Miller answered, studying Colt. “Listen, Mr. Kim asked me to provide you with a comprehensive security brief, which I’ll do. He also asked me to prep you for visiting some of our highest security areas.”
“Excellent.”
Miller hummed disapproval. “Yes, well. I advised against it, but ours is not to reason why.”
Miller began speaking about the security procedures in place within the company, and then asked Colt a series of questions, reminding him of a security clearance check for the federal government. Probing for any gambling, drug, alcohol, or debt problems. Asking about foreign travel. Colt gave him all the right answers, and the interview wound down.
“That about wraps it up. We’ve done our external background check already. I’ll reset the access on your badge.”
“Glad to know I passed,” Colt said. “Mr. Miller, I hope you don’t mind . . . I have a question for you. As you know, my goal here is to evaluate the long-term profitability of this company. In my experience, tech companies must fiercely protect their intellectual property. May I ask what Pax AI is doing to prevent cyber theft and industrial espionage?”
Miller didn’t look happy to be on the receiving end of any questions. “I can assure you that Pax AI is practicing good cyber hygiene. We are segmenting critical networks, backing up all our data, and using the latest anti-viral software. I also have a team of defensive cyber security personnel working for me in house.”
“Can you talk to me about how you segment Pax AI’s critical networks?”
Miller scoffed. “No. Not really.”
Colt frowned. “Mr. Miller, I’m sorry, but Mr. Kim assured me I would be granted any help needed to evaluate the company and conduct a robust analysis for our investors.”
Miller said, “Oh really?”
Colt didn’t respond as they stared at each other.
Miller sighed. “Fine. Here’s my segmentation metaphor. Imagine that Pax AI’s data is all stored on a very large ship. You were a Navy man, right?”
Colt nodded. “I see your background check was thorough.”
“It was.” Miller continued, “So, let us say that our Pax AI ship is sailing in the North Atlantic and comes into contact with an iceberg. It develops a severe gash in the hull. Now, because we have segmentation of our secure data, the internal compartments of our ship would instantly be sealed off. This will stop catastrophic flooding. In the world of cyber-theft, the moment we are alerted to a penetration, the system shuts off each compartment. This minimizes how much they can steal, or how much damage they can do.”
Colt said, “And what if you are not alerted?”
Miller’s eyes were steel. “We have some of the best cyber security experts in the world on our payroll. Trust me, we’ll know.”
“I can’t help but think of the Titanic, that’s all.”
Miller said, “As an additional security measure, much of our most important technology is stored at the Mountain Research Facility. I work with our CTO and chief scientist to make sure the company migrates its most vital IP to that location each calendar quarter.”
“And The Facility is more capable of defending against a cyber-theft?”
Miller nodded. “Certainly. It’s among the most secure data storage centers in the world. We have multiple physical and electronic barriers that would prevent cyberattack. The Facility’s remote location, and our robust security procedures on site, make it as impenetrable as the Pentagon.”
“Impressive,” Colt said, wondering how many times the Pentagon had been hacked over the years.
“We keep research teams at The Facility very small. Only a dozen or so at a time, including government scientists. There is more human security outside The Facility’s walls than personnel who are allowed to enter. Researchers who go there have to abide by very strict procedures. They are kept isolated inside. Oftentimes this is a week or more. The assignment isn’t for everyone.”
“You’re kidding? Why?”
“There can be no electronic transmission in or out of The Facility. The work there is very sensitive. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.”
“Fascinating,” Colt said. “Has Pax AI had any cyberattacks?”
Miller snorted. “Of course. Weekly, if not daily. This company is one of the most valuable tech resources in the world, and everyone knows it. We’re a ripe target. But like I said, our protection is top-notch, so the frequency of unsuccessful attempts shouldn’t concern you.”
“What about cyber ransom?”
Miller said, “Ransomware gangs don’t normally go for corporate targets. Too dangerous. Much easier to hack into a few rich people’s computers and get them to pay. It’s industrial espionage you need to worry about. Our security precautions are so great that it would take someone inside our organization to really do damage.”
“Industrial espionage. As in, spies?”
“Yes.”
“And do you think there are actually spies within your organization?”
“We do everything we can to prevent it. But we’ve terminated employees and decided against hiring certain personnel, because red flags came up. Even if they aren’t spies per se, they might be negligent in their handling of classified information. Or worse, intentionally providing information to third-party professionals. Either corporate contractors . . . usually ex-intelligence operatives . . . or current intelligence operatives from foreign services. The Chinese are our biggest threat there.”
Miller looked toward his office entrance, and Colt turned around to see Jeff Kim enter.
“Good morning, Jeff.”
“Good morning. I just came to see how things were going. I’m told that you are ready to see the good stuff.”
Colt said, “I’m eager to, yes.”
Miller chimed in. “Sir, I would still like to conduct a polygraph and . . .”
“A polygraph?” Colt asked.
Kim waved off the comment. “Not necessary. Our investors sent him here. I think we can be reasonably confident Colt isn’t going to steal our secrets. He’s being paid to see them.”
Miller looked annoyed.
Kim said, “Colt, please forgive the inconvenience, but with the loss of Mr. Kozlov, we’re being extra careful. And as you know, we are on the leading edge of some incredible discoveries in the field of AI. You understand that we need to follow proper safety and security protocol before we give you the full tour, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thanks for your understanding.”
Miller looked satisfied.
Kim said, “Oh, one more thing, Colt. We’re having an off-site social event at my home tonight.” He shrugged. “It’s my birthday. Not the best timing, but things
like this help boost morale. Anyway, please know you’re invited.”
“Thank you very much, I would enjoy that.”
“Oh, and Colt? Ava Klein will be there. I understand you two know each other.” Kim’s eyes locked onto Colt’s.
“Yes, we do. It will be good to see her again.”
Kim bowed and left.
13
Colt saw the signal as he approached his hotel. A green paper square in the corner of a drugstore half a block down the road. Colt headed up to his room and locked his computer in the safe, affixing a clear strand of fishing wire across the doorline with a drop of adhesive.
He changed into running clothes and headed out of the hotel, donning his wireless headphones as he began running along the city sidewalks. Two blocks down he got Wilcox’s call.
“I’m in the café to your left. There’s a garden area around the side. Last table, by the side exit.”
“Okay,” was all Colt said in response. He tapped his earpiece to hang up the call and ran one block past the café before doubling back at a four-way stoplight. He scanned for anyone who might be following him as he made his reversal and did a full loop around the block before reaching the café’s entrance.
Satisfied he was in the black, Colt strode in, ordering a bottled mineral water and paying with his phone. He took in all the patrons in the place—only a handful. Two new moms, each with a stroller, sipping sugary iced drinks. A teenager wearing a denim top, eyes buried in her phone.
And a white guy in his early sixties sitting across from a diminutive Asian woman, both wearing tasteful yet not too expensive business attire, while they sipped black coffee. Wilcox and Weng.
Colt said, “I only have a few minutes. I need to get ready. I have a dinner party to attend.”
“With whom?” Wilcox asked.
“I like parties,” said Weng.
“Jeff Kim invited me to his home. He’s having a birthday party tonight.”
Wilcox frowned. “Does it strike you as odd that they are throwing a party right now? While the FBI is speaking to them about the death of one of their employees?”
Weng waved away the comment. “His mom probably wasn’t thinking it would be a problem when she was banging Kim’s father all those years ago, you know what I’m saying?”
“Delightful,” said Wilcox.
Colt said, “Of course it strikes me as odd. But I’m not the one throwing the party. And to be honest, everyone I’ve met at Pax AI thus far strikes me as odd. But Ava is going to be there.”
“Speaking of banging . . .” Weng raised her coffee cup before taking a sip.
“Where’s she been the past couple of days?” Wilcox asked.
Colt said, “On a business trip.”
“You’ll need to start building the relationship,” Wilcox said.
Weng started to say something, but Wilcox glared at her.
“I understand why I’m assigned here,” Colt said. He paused. “Why’d you signal me?”
Wilcox said, “A few updates. We looked into Nader. You were right to be suspicious. There were at least two instances of him and Liu being in the same social gathering while Nader was in college. We were able to refurbish an archived social media photo of someone else who was at the event. It showed them speaking to each other. Still circumstantial.”
Colt nodded. “Okay. So, if he’s working for the Chinese . . .”
Weng said, “Hold your horses on that one. We stepped up our surveillance on him since yesterday. This morning he met with Sheryl Hawkinson.”
Wilcox said, “You know Hawkinson Venture Partners, right?”
Colt turned to Weng. “That’s the firm you were telling me about.”
She nodded. “It’s one of the top VCs in the Bay Area. It was owned by Sheryl Hawkinson’s father, who passed away years ago. She and her brother inherited a fortune while they were in their twenties. Sheryl now runs the VC firm. Her brother Guy opened a private security business with contracts all over the world. The Hawkinsons have very strong political connections. Their uncle is Senator Hawkinson of Wyoming. And their political action committee funds some of the biggest names in Congress.”
“Why does it matter that Nader met with her?” asked Colt.
Weng leaned forward, careful to speak in a low volume. “Sheryl Hawkinson has been on the FBI counterintelligence division’s radar for some time. She’s done business with some very controversial clients. So has her brother, for that matter. Some were either connected to the Kremlin, or . . . well, I’m from Jersey, and I think the saying there is that they knew a guy, who knew a guy . . . if you catch my meaning.”
“WTF. So Nader is talking to both Chinese and Russian operatives?”
Wilcox said, “The Hawkinsons are complicated. It’s not quite as simple as saying they’re working with Russian state actors. As far as we can tell, they have no desire to further Russian interests. Her brother’s company, the defense contractor, has been known to work with the CIA overseas.”
Weng said, “You can see why we are careful when dealing with anything Hawkinson. They have serious political connections, and it might not look good for us if we draw attention to them.”
Colt frowned. “So . . . the FBI isn’t looking into this?”
Wilcox said, “I’ve been working with Rinaldi on tech counterintelligence for the past three years. There are few things I’m sure of anymore, but this is one: no one in law enforcement wants to go anywhere near the Hawkinsons. Trust me. But if the chief technology officer at Pax AI is providing classified information to her . . .”
Weng finished, “That changes the equation. The stuff they are working on at Pax AI is too important to overlook.”
Colt said, “So what does she want with Nader, then?”
Wilcox sipped his coffee. “Sheryl Hawkinson has been angling for a stake in Pax AI for years. To date, Jeff Kim has always held her at bay. But controversy like Kozlov’s murder and negative public perception from Trinity followers could impact that. Is it possible Hawkinson is involved in passing secrets from Nader to Russian intelligence? Maybe. But it’s even more likely that Hawkinson is playing a different game: trying to maneuver herself to get equity in the company. Or steal Nader away to a competitor she has an interest in.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Keep your eyes and ears open for anything to do with her and Nader. But steer clear of her for now. It’s not worth the political flames.”
“Will do,” said Colt, standing up to leave.
Weng winked. “And good luck with Ava.”
14
The Pax AI driving service dropped Colt off at the gravel roundabout entrance to the property. Jeff Kim was the proud owner of a half-acre home in Palo Alto, and it must have cost a fortune: terra-cotta roof tiles, reinforced concrete walls, rich wood panels on the inner ceilings, recessed lighting, spacious open floor plan. The lawn was better manicured than a professional golf course. Smooth egg-shaped stones of various sizes were scattered throughout the grass. A long two-lane swimming pool, its water a captivating dark blue, ran across the backyard. Tall trees surrounded the property, providing privacy.
Several dozen partygoers mingled on the lawn, most wearing expensive clothes and jewelry. The valets must have parked more Ferraris than were on display at the local dealer.
Colt spotted several security personnel among the guests and caterers. Some he recognized from Pax AI, but others must have been brought in for some of the guests.
People were spread out in the backyard, scattered around tall tables holding drinks and food. Colt saw Nader, Pace, and some of their employees gathered in a cluster, drinking and talking among themselves. Colt joined them, taking a glass of champagne from a passing server.
Pace’s face was red like he’d been at it for a few hours already. When Colt approached, Pace said, “What say you, Mr. Money?”
Nader looked at Pace disapprovingly. “Come on, Luke.”
“I’m sorry? I must have mis
sed the question,” Colt replied.
Pace shook off Nader’s hand on his shoulder. “We were just discussing whether or not we deserve all of this.”
He held up his hands, looking around the multimillion-dollar home’s palatial grounds. A server passed by with crackers covered with cream cheese and caviar.
Colt laughed. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer that.”
“Ah, a cop-out.”
Nader said, “All right, I’ll bite. Yes, we deserve it. The people at this party are some of the smartest, hardest-working people in the world. We create value. We deserve to get paid for it. It’s the natural way of things.”
Pace scoffed.
Colt sipped his champagne. “You disagree?”
Nader rolled his eyes. “Of course he does, he’s a communist at heart.” Pace and some of the others laughed.
“Communists can’t afford my car,” said Pace.
Eyes turned at the sound of clapping and a few cheers near the back of the lawn. Jeff Kim had come out from a structure near the back of the property.
“What’s that little house?”
“That’s his meditation room,” said Pace. “Kim is really big on meditation. He uses that room as his personal office sometimes, too. Nobody goes in there except for him. He’s rather weird about it.”
A small group surrounded him. People Colt didn’t recognize.
“Who are they?” he asked.
“The upper crust,” Pace said. “Those are other CEOs and VCs from the valley. They’ve come to pay their respects like Mafia dons. Boss man’s turning forty.”
Colt smiled. “I should have brought a present.”
“Nah, he hates that stuff. Just look around his house. It’s amazing, but you’ll find it is pretty spartan.”
Pace left the group and headed toward the bar. The server looked miffed as Pace took the bottle of bourbon and poured himself a glass with ice.
Nader shook his head. “Please excuse him. He gets a little wild at these events. Great researcher, but you’ll find a lot of our best engineers don’t have the social graces you and I do. Probably a product of not being normal human beings.” Nader smiled, turning to look behind himself. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go suck up to the boss for a bit.” The engineers left with him, following like schoolchildren.