The buzz of McDarvid’s intercom interrupted Jonnie.
“Mr. McDarvid? Mr. Ames regrets he is not able to make your five o’clock meeting today. He would like to reschedule for three-thirty tomorrow.”
McDarvid took a quick look at his open appointment book. “Three-thirty’s fine. Tell him I’ll be there.”
“Will do, Mr. McDarvid. I’ve already put it down on his calendar.”
McDarvid replaced the receiver. How could someone who couldn’t do anything by himself, not even dial the phone or keep a calendar, ever run a law firm? “It seems that George has decided to leave early.”
“Leave early? It’s barely started to flurry.” Jonnie screwed up his face. “Besides, he’s not even going home. If it’s like any other night when he’s afraid of the weather or has an early appointment the next morning, he’s just going to whatever luxury hotel Cecelia can book him into.”
McDarvid smiled. “Who are we to question the great and mighty?”
“What about you? Do you want to get out of here?” Jonnie motioned with his hand toward the window.
“No point. I’d be stuck in traffic. If it gets too bad, I’ll leave the car, take the Metro, and walk half a mile. Besides, if I wait, the storm might blow over and traffic will have cleared out. Then I won’t have to be a Metro sandwich.” He grinned. “And, who knows, perhaps the plows and sand trucks will have had a chance to go through.”
Jonnie raised his eyebrows. “You’ve lived here how long?”
“All right. If the city’s snow removal services are up to their usual level of efficiency, the plows won’t come until spring. After all, they’re only calling for three to five inches.”
“Only three to five inches?”
McDarvid snorted and looked out the window. Snow was just another issue that Washington was incapable of dealing with.
“Makes me glad I always take the subway,” Jonnie continued. “Anyway, you asked about Lao Systems. I would not assume that they always use the most honest of methods to win all of their contracts.”
“Who does?” McDarvid sometimes wished that Jonnie wouldn’t be so damned elliptical and get to the point.
“Lao usually wins the first few contracts honestly. Their equipment’s good enough. And they can lowball a bid as well as anyone. Once they get inside an organization, they make friends. Same as we do with our clients. Their techniques are somewhat more questionable.” Jonnie took his glasses off and laid them on McDarvid’s desk. “They make friends with the technical people, the ones who set the requirements for future purchases. For some contracts, setting the requirements is better than picking the vendor. I don’t have any hard information, but it doesn’t look like they even bother with the procurement folks.”
Jonnie leaned back on the chair’s rear legs until his head rested against the wall. McDarvid’s office was too small to allow an accident from such practices. “Lao will often invite people down to their headquarters in Amarillo for ‘technical seminars.’ Those people are treated very well.”
“Lao doesn’t pay all their expenses?” McDarvid asked. “How do they get around the ethics rules?”
“Oh, they don’t. Civil servants can’t fly around the country at a contractor’s expense. It’s not like they’re Congressmen. The seminars have enough substance to get the government to pay their way. But in the evenings those people who work out of basements and converted warehouses are treated to expensive food, booze, and bimbos.”
“How do they manage that? Black magic?”
“It’s not Lao’s fault that the women who show up at the after-seminar receptions are eager to make friends with men from Washington.”
“That could be tricky.”
“Not really. All kinds of people attend those seminars. They’re not restricted to government types. The lonely women could be from anywhere.”
“Right.” McDarvid’s tone was sarcastic.
Jonnie put his hands behind his head to cushion it against the wall. He flinched as he heard the crunching of vehicles on the street below.
McDarvid stood and leaned over toward the window. “A Metrobus slid into a beer truck. That’s it for the driving. I guess I’ll hike home from the Metro later.” He slumped back into the desk chair. “So what about Lao?”
“In addition to the party favors, I know that at least some people get cash payoffs. Maybe not a lot, but over a year it probably comes to at least several thousand dollars.”
“Cash in an envelope? Isn’t that a little crude?” McDarvid again thought of the notice from the Lao Foundation he had seen tacked up on a DEP bulletin board, the one advertising scholarships.
“Crude doesn’t mean ineffective or unsafe. Cash is direct and untraceable. Besides, some of these people are pretty crude themselves. Their idea of a good lunch is a hot dog and a couple of beers. Sometimes they pass on the hot dog. And if you visit their office, don’t use the men’s room. They piss on the floors.”
McDarvid stared at Jonnie. He had known some slobs in high positions and more than a few alcoholics. Even they knew how to use a toilet. The look on Jonnie’s face indicated that he was not kidding, or not much.
“If things are that bad, why doesn’t someone go to the I.G.?”
“Things aren’t that simple.” Jonnie rocked forward until all four chair legs were on the ground again. He picked his glasses up and began to polish the lenses with his gray silk tie. “If the situation is reported, assuming any action is taken at all, there will be an investigation. That’s going to make some people unhappy. And unhappy people look for someone to blame. Like malcontents and junior associates who have asked embarrassing questions. Which sounds like a good description of the people who talk to me. If there were an investigation, their asses would be grass, or at least any future promotions would be, and who wants to be a GS-9 for life in the basement of Labor or Transportation? Besides, I wouldn’t bet on them actually pinning Lao with specific charges. The Inspectors General are great for crucifying civil servants, even innocent ones, but not necessarily big contractors.”
McDarvid shifted his weight in the desk chair as a siren blared from the street below.
“You remember the big fiasco with the new computer system for Social Security a few years back? That was a major scandal that cost taxpayers big bucks, but nothing ever came of it—even after a freshman Congressman supplied GAO with documents which showed what was going on. GAO eventually issued a few mealymouthed reports. And one GS-9 bookkeeper got canned.” Jonnie gave an exaggerated shrug. “Even if Lao were found guilty, what makes you think that the next contractor would be any more honest?”
McDarvid looked out the window. The snow was thickening. Jonnie’s voice broke his reverie.
“If you’re really interested in Lao Systems, there is something else you ought to know.” Jonnie’s eyes glanced around the room as he bit his lower lip. “I had lunch a couple weeks ago with a friend over at Commerce. Anyway, the subject of Lao Systems came up. She was worried about them.”
“Why?” McDarvid had stopped looking out his window and had started looking at his watch. Tonight was Allyson’s late night. Mrs. Hughes had fixed dinner for the kids too many times lately.
“Over the last year, Commerce has been installing a global network and data base. The data base contains information about U.S. companies who want to do business overseas. It also has information about foreign firms looking for American partners and lists of products available for immediate export. That way someone in, say, Sweden who wanted to buy pine logs could just contact the trade officer at the nearest embassy or consulate and receive a list of American companies. To encourage foreign companies to use the system, it also has a similar list of foreign products available for export to the U.S.”
“Lao Systems has the contract for the equipment?”
Jonnie nodded. “The system functions as a network as well as a data base. Because some of that stuff is very sensitive—semiconductor trade talks with the Japanese and g
rain sales to the Russians—the powers that be, and budget, decided to go with a secure system. Communications are encrypted, and all of the machines are fully TEMPESTed.”
“TEMPESTed?” McDarvid’s tired eyes focused on Jonnie.
“Computers, like all electronic equipment, have radio frequency emissions. With the right equipment, you can pick up those emissions and know everything—everything that’s typed in, every message that’s decoded. TEMPEST—that’s the acronym—is a way of shielding the equipment. Even corporations use TEMPEST equipment to protect against industrial espionage.” Jonnie stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes again.
McDarvid drained the remains of a diet soda before tossing the can in the small plastic wastebasket for aluminum. “Commerce?” he prompted, looking toward his briefcase.
“Anyway, Lao is one of a handful of vertically integrated manufacturers of TEMPEST equipment. Most TEMPESTing is done after-market by third-party vendors. Lao builds TEMPEST equipment from the boards up on the factory floor. Board-level TEMPESTing is expensive, but a lot more convenient and lighter than putting lead enclosures around all the equipment. That helps Lao win some contracts. They even have their own TEMPEST tank.”
“TEMPEST tank? They submerge the computers?”
“Not quite, not the way you mean. A TEMPEST tank is actually a testing room. Have you ever seen a special acoustic room, the kind with all the sound-absorbing panels?”
“I’ve seen pictures.”
“Well, a TEMPEST tank is like that. Instead of being shielded from outside sound, it’s protected against outside radiation. And instead of sound-absorbing panels, there are special directional antennas. If the equipment being tested works, the apparatus won’t be able to gather any information.”
“Lao’s the only company that can test TEMPEST equipment?”
“No, several independents can do the testing, but Lao’s one of a very small number of completely integrated companies that build and test their own TEMPEST systems. Even IBM doesn’t build its own TEMPEST equipment. Lao’s probably not the biggest TEMPEST company, but they are a major player.”
“They sound qualified for the Commerce contract without any illicit activity.”
“They’re qualified, at least on paper. And I haven’t heard of corruption problems at Commerce, not that that means much. The thing is that there have been a lot of problems with the system itself. More than usual. Software hasn’t performed as designed, and there’s an abundance of hardware problems. That’s especially a pain in the third world where getting spare parts and replacement equipment is a bit time-consuming.”
“That’s a big project if they’re putting stations in third-world countries.”
“It’s already a huge project, and it’s not complete. When I said they were linking every trade attaché, I wasn’t kidding. It’s supposed to provide a big boost for U.S. exports and help the Commerce Department act a little more like MITI—the Japanese ministry of trade and industry. That got Congress to foot the bill even with all the budget cutbacks.”
“So the system doesn’t live up to expectations, and Commerce is unhappy. It sounds like a million and one government projects.”
“A little more than that.” Jonnie stroked his beard. “While the equipment was being checked, some pieces leaked. Despite Lao’s testing and, more interesting, despite the government’s testing and certification—they have their own tanks—the equipment leaked.”
McDarvid shut his eyes for a few seconds and then glanced from Jonnie to his watch. He stood and looked out the window at Nineteenth Street. The snow was tapering off, and traffic was beginning to thin. Maybe he’d be able to drive home. He really hadn’t been looking forward to the hike from the Friendship Heights station. “So it leaked.”
“The problem is that the network stations weren’t secure. Anyone properly equipped could receive all the information which went through those machines.”
“What’s the big problem? Who cares who’s buying and selling pine logs?”
“All I know is that I talked to one worried lady. I’ve known her a lot of years, since we were at Georgetown. She doesn’t worry without cause.”
“This lady friend of yours seems to know a fair bit about some odd technical issues. Just what is it that she does at Commerce?”
Jonnie shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure she’s had a variety of jobs by now. She started there right after graduation. She even had a few foreign assignments.”
“You’d rather not say.”
Jonnie looked at McDarvid blandly.
“If Lao is such a big maker of secure computer equipment, they must sell it to a lot of other agencies.”
“I would guess so.”
“I wonder who else has a leaking Lao network.”
“Good question,” Jonnie replied. “I wish I could answer it.”
“Too damned many speculations,” mumbled McDarvid. “Next thing you know, you’ll be implying that Lao is in cahoots with the Soviets or somebody.”
Jonnie stood up. “Nothing I’ve said implies anything more than all-American corruption and incompetence.”
McDarvid pursed his lips. The odd way Lao and the Lao Foundation kept cropping up didn’t make sense. “Could they be working with the Russians or somebody?”
“Anything’s possible, but I do remember reading that the company’s founder hated communists. He fled Red China. His wife was caught and executed. This was the guy who refused to locate his company with the other high-tech firms in Massachusetts because he said it reminded him too much of the country he left behind. The only thing Dr. Lao hated more than communists was Russians,” Jonnie continued. “He said they were barbarians who should be kept in cages. However, he’s been dead many years.”
McDarvid shook his head and began drumming his fingers on the desktop. “Would it really be that important if a few Commerce Department computers in the third world weren’t TEMPESTed quite right?”
“Oh, I never said that any equipment in the third world was unduly tempestuous. There were only a tiny handful of machines with that problem. One machine and a few cables in Tokyo, a computer and monitor in Leningrad, and a keyboard, monitor, and printer in Moscow had that particular defect.”
“How convenient.” McDarvid looked at his tired, bespectacled colleague and rubbed his forehead. “This is from your freelancing, I take it.”
“It would be better if you didn’t mention it. Call it deep background.”
“All right.” McDarvid paused. “I think I’d like to chat with some people at Lao Systems.”
Jonnie looked over the top of his glasses at McDarvid, an expression McDarvid almost never saw from him. “I suppose you could go down to Texas. They have a decent Public Relations Department.”
“JAFFE’s plant’s in Houston, not Amarillo.”
“There’s an alternative, if you just want to make some casual contacts. There’s a federal network systems computer show at the Convention Center in two weeks. Lao will have a booth there. I’ve got a free pass. You’re welcome to it if you like.”
“I might just stop by for a few minutes.” McDarvid walked to the window and looked out. “In the meantime, it’s Allyson’s late night, and I’d better get going.”
62
JONNIE EASED THE GTO INTO THE INDUSTRIAL PARK’S LOT, then dodged around the icy spots, past the TV monitor, and opened the door next to the small metal Department of Commerce sign hanging on the painted brick wall.
He showed his photo ID to the woman behind the desk, who had already seen his face in the monitor before her. After she had nodded, he stepped past the desk to the interior door, placed his hand in the metal enclosure, and quickly tapped out the cipher lock’s code. The releasing bolt’s click was quickly followed by a solid thunk as the heavy door closed behind him.
“Oh … hi, Kathleen. I didn’t expect to see you here. What brings you to Lower Nowhere?”
“That’s the way it goes.” Kathleen Matthews grinned. “You don�
�t like the luxurious office space?”
Jonnie looked down the corridor toward the few offices crudely walled off in the converted warehouse. “Well … you usually stay downtown. If I knew you were going to be here, I would have worn one of those bow ties you like so much.” Jonnie walked down the whitewashed hall to the small conference room.
“I don’t like coming here any better than you, maybe less, but I wanted to do a little quality control before any more units go out to the field.”
“More problems?”
Kathleen nodded, the shoulder-length jet-black hair bobbing against porcelain-white skin. “Apparently, we had a system-board failure in Karachi. Shipping a new board over is pretty easy, but it will take at least a week before someone who can do the installation can get there.”
“Isn’t anyone over there good with a screwdriver? Replacing the board isn’t exactly high-tech. I mean, a few screws…” Jonnie opened the door to the tiny conference room and waited for the woman to enter.
“That’s not the problem. You have to have someone who’s allowed access to that part of the embassy. You’ve done training; you know the level of mechanical skills of most of those folks.” Kathleen’s nose crinkled at the heavy odor of stale cigarette smoke. She moved a half-filled ashtray to the other end of the small scratched wooden table. “So … is version two of the query program ready yet?”
“Almost. Snake said he had something for me to look at today. That’s why I came over. The new software will be completely menu-driven. That’ll make it a lot easier for those technically gifted souls stationed in Outer Tuwoomba. It should also prevent their hitting the wrong key and accidentally nuking Disney World.”
“I still can’t believe you. You waltz in here for a few hours every now and then and act like you’re the project manager. Not quite part-time consultants who make more than Cabinet Secretaries should at least have a little more respect for us drudges who have to work for a living.”
“I don’t make that much, not even close, except maybe on an hourly basis. And I have plenty of respect for civil servants.” He grinned. “Didn’t I promise to respect you in the morning?”
The Green Progression Page 21