“R. Barrows,” Abe said. “As in Richard Barrows?”
Zeus gave a casual nod, as though there was nothing exceptional about the fact that one of the world’s leading cyber geniuses now worked with Black Raven and was providing assistance on the bounty hunt. “Most of the information in OLIVER is highly sensitive. OLIVER is a subset of a larger body of Black Raven data. Our sourcing tactics are…” he paused, his words tapering, “cutting edge.”
“Meaning you don’t have authority to have most of the information that is in OLIVER?” Samantha asked.
He gave no indication he planned to answer her direct question. “Information from OLIVER cannot be shared, distributed, or used in any manner without prior permission.”
“From whom?” Charles asked.
Zeus’s sweeping glance encompassed the Amicus team. “Me. Also, your actions in OLIVER will be monitored. Any attempt at information sharing or duplication, without my approval, will result in termination of access. Understood?”
Charles cleared his throat. Abe looked at Samantha. As she glanced at her team, their discomfort at Zeus’s dose of reality was palpable. In a low voice, Abe said, “So on top of data sourcing problems, by having Black Raven monitor what we do in the database, we’re potentially compromising the attorney client privilege.”
Which meant that their thought processes, which were typically protected by the attorney-client privilege, were not protected. Abe and Charles cast an uneasy look in her direction. Charles stood and walked to the buffet.
“Sam?” Zeus’s right eyebrow arched. “I’m spelling it out so we have a clear understanding. Anything from OLIVER can only be used with my approval.”
In the Congressional hearings following the Barrows incident, detractors of Black Raven had alleged that the company used its cyber skills to hack through databases with reckless abandon. Some called it cyber theft. Black Raven called it getting the job done. The hearings had ended in favor of Black Raven. There’d been no reprisals, nor had there been any type of legislation designed to curb the methods employed by Black Raven, or other companies who were attempting to follow suit.
Considering the implications of what Zeus was saying in terms of her career path, she hesitated. She wished she had time to confer with Justin on this one. Whether the end would justify the means in the ITT proceeding was an open issue. What wasn’t an open issue, though, was the certainty that by looking at information that had been obtained through questionable means, she was as complicit as the person who hacked into the data. Her integrity could later be questioned.
If things soured, using Black Raven data was potentially a career-limiting move, because anything was fair game for the review committee that would ultimately consider her for a judgeship.
Was the Black Raven data worth the potential negative fallout for her career? She didn’t know.
Won’t know, until I see what they have.
“Are you in,” Zeus asked, “or out?”
Being given access to the database was no different than using the information they’d gathered on the bounty hunt, she reasoned. It was just that having personal access made it seem different, made her feel more complicit in Black Raven’s illicit data collection efforts. In the legal world in which she lived, the words accomplice and co-conspirator applied to those who acted in concern in criminal acts, and co-conspirators were prosecuted to the same extent as the ringleader.
Yet she remembered the cracking sound of the bomb, the acrid smells of smoke, blood, and fear, the feel of Zeus’s strong body protecting her as they fell. The moans and cries of the wounded, people who didn’t have security protecting them. People who were there merely to express an opinion on the proceedings. She’d been safe, but only because of Zeus and Black Raven. Survivor’s guilt told her that the world needed to be safe for those who didn’t have ace security teams.
Period.
Charles returned to the table with a thick slab of pound cake, piled high with berries. Eyeing the red, blue, and black berries spilling over the yellow cake, Samantha nodded. “I’m in. Let us see what you’ve found. I’m not sure we’ll use any of it. I want to be perfectly clear here—we’re not agreeing to your tactics. However, the events of today, from the bombing to the resulting pandemonium, are enough for me to know I’m making the right choice.” She glanced at Abe and Charles. “Are you two okay with this?”
They nodded.
To Zeus, she said, “Move forward.”
Zeus gave her a nod. “Ragno? Alert Barrows we’re ready.”
After a second, the monitor with the news show went dark, and a middle-aged man, with gray hair and clear blue eyes appeared on the screen. “Samantha, Abe, and Charles,” Barrows said, as their computers dinged with an alert indicating they were receiving a message from R. Barrows. “The email contains download, access, and search instructions to OLIVER. We’ve made it as user friendly as possible. Because we’re integrating information from sources known to the ITT and sources not produced in the ITT proceeding, I’m providing mapping for sourcing details. I’ve equipped each of you with a search bar that should be easy with plain language techniques. Just type a question, and you’ll receive hits in response.
“Responses will be prioritized in terms of frequency and color-coded as to information sensitivity. If your search result is green, you can use it in the ITT proceedings. Green means most everything in the search result is in the ITT record. If the search result is red, you can’t use the information at all. If the highlight is yellow, maybe you can use it. You’ll need permission from Zeus.”
All roads from OLIVER lead to Zeus. Understood.
Barrows continued, “We have a team of analysts running through scenarios that have taken the searches that the three of you did in the ITT proceeding and research databases—”
“Excuse me?” Abe said.
Barrows’s gaze fell to Abe. “We’re not underestimating your brainpower, nor are we ignoring the other lawyers in the ITT proceeding. We’d be foolish at this point not to employ the collective brainpower amassed to assist the ITT proceedings. Searches that others employ, you and anyone else, are rerun every few hours as the Black Raven databases–including OLIVER—grow with new information.”
“As though our brains are all tied together,” Abe said, drawing a deep breath. “That’s right, Abe,” Zeus interjected. “With OLIVER, Barrows has created a freaking orgy of brainpower for you guys, coupled with the most sophisticated data assimilation methodology on the planet. If I were you, I’d enjoy the hell out of it.”
“But don’t get too excited,” Barrows said. “So far, from OLIVER, nothing particularly interesting is green. Most search results are red. A few are yellow.”
“Wait a second,” Samantha said. “You indicated that the searches we run in OLIVER will be rerun in another Black Raven database. You’re working in a database that’s separate from OLIVER?”
Zeus glanced at her. “Some of our sources only share information with strict confidentiality agreements in place. Just because you have access to OLIVER doesn’t mean you have access to Black Raven databases. No one is integrated with Black Raven. Ever. OLIVER is separate from the total body of information Black Raven is pulling together on the bounty hunt.”
“That is correct,” Barrows said. “Any search you’re performing in OLIVER will be automatically rerun in the private Black Raven database.”
“I thought you’d want to know that,” Zeus said.
Damn right.
“Zeus will determine whether to share with you the results that are produced in the Black Raven database,” Barrows said.
“Understood.” Not that she liked it, but she did understand. “You’ve also said most data results in OLIVER are red. So you’ve come up with information that might be relevant to the ITT proceedings, you’ve shared that information with me and my team through OLIVER,” Samantha said, “but it’s not from information in the ITT record, and it’s from information we can’t use?”
Zeus gave her a curt nod, standing with his empty plate, and heading to the buffet table.
“That’s exactly what we’re saying.” Barrows leaned forward and typed commands. The image of him disappeared, replaced with a mostly empty screen that had the Black Raven logo, the word OLIVER, and a blank search bar with a blinking cursor. “This is how you could run a potential search, keeping in mind that your searches will be monitored and facilitated on our end.”
The words assimilation grid of Duvall phone contacts throughout all databases appeared in the search bar.
Samantha’s heart skipped a beat. Her fork, full of potatoes, was almost in her mouth. She returned it to her plate, more interested in the search result to Barrows’ query than eating.
“Simple, right?” Barrows asked. “We’ll all receive alerts if information relevant to the bounty hunt appears. Next order of priority is information relevant to official ITT proceedings appears. For example, Samantha, you’ll be continuing your cross examination of Duvall tomorrow. Correct?”
“Yes,” she said. “I want the results of that search query.”
The cursor moved to the search button, and clicked there. “Here you go,” Barrows said. “I’m sending it to each of you. The first screen is raw data.”
A list of documents appeared on her screen. All were red. AT&T. Comcast. Verizon Communications. Deutsche Telekom. Vodafone Group. Orange S.A. Softbank. Telecom Italia.
Zeus returned to the table with a fresh plate loaded with berries.
“Jesus Christ,” Abe said, reaching for his glass of wine, and taking a swallow. “How do you have access to all these phone company records?”
“Is this legal?” Charles asked, the worry in his voice indicating the reality of looking at Black Raven data was a bit different than the abstract concept of wanting to see it. “Phone companies don’t just produce their customer’s records. Court orders are needed, and…” He reached for a glass of water, and gulped it.
As his voice trailed, Samantha felt like she was being offered handfuls of the world’s most precious diamonds. Hers for the taking, with the promise of not getting caught.
But it’s still wrong.
“We only employ this technique when necessary, and we employ strict controls with the data,” Zeus said.
In other words, what I’m looking at is totally illegal. Unless—
Glancing at Zeus, she said, “You’ve been working on this longer than one week, haven’t you?”
He gave her a hard look. No answer.
“Who is your client, and what is the project?”
Again, no answer. She didn’t expect one. Yet she wondered what kind of job they were working on, who had hired them for it, and how much of it dovetailed with the ITT trial.
Barrows continued, “When you click on any of the data files, you’ll automatically receive only information relevant to your work.”
“Wait a second,” Samantha said. “How do you decide the parameters of relevance and how is that implemented throughout the databases? What kind of technology are you using?”
No one answered. She locked eyes with Zeus. Her palms tingled as she realized what she was looking at. Output from Shadow Technology, the brainchild of Barrows, originally produced for the United States government. The government had denied that it had implemented the cutting edge data collection and assimilation method.
“In the Senate subcommittee hearings, Black Raven said Shadow Technology was destroyed. Was that true?”
Zeus met her eyes, his expression unreadable. He slid his fork under a mound of blackberries and raspberries, stabbing a chunk of pound cake as he did so. “Barrows created Shadow Technology.”
“That isn’t an answer. In the Senate hearings you said James Trask destroyed the technology.” Samantha watched Zeus eat as her mind raced. Now it made sense to her why Black Raven came out of the hearing unscathed, given the virulence with which the company had been initially attacked. “You claimed the technology was destroyed because that’s what the government wanted you to say. That was why Black Raven wasn’t reprimanded for its tactics. It was a compromise. You helped the government, which, I’m guessing,” she acknowledged her guess, but her gut told her she was correct, “means the government has some version of Shadow Technology in place, something the government still denies. Or maybe the government has hired you to assimilate the data that it’s gathering.”
Zeus glanced at her before his gaze scanned the quiet room. All eyes were on him, waiting on his response. He shifted in his seat. “Best if we don’t go down that road. Barrows and Black Raven are now working together, and his knowledge and work product, whether it’s called Shadow Technology or not, makes databases like OLIVER possible.”
Enough said. Samantha clicked open the very first document, read for a second, then glanced at Zeus. His focus was on her. She looked at her screen. Her palms tingled as she clicked through the search results.
“Oh.” Abe said, leaning forward as he clicked through the same search results. “Good God.”
Chapter Eighteen
Samantha pushed her half-empty dinner plate and wine glass to the side, and pulled her laptop closer. After a few minutes, she glanced up at the monitor, into Barrows’ blue eyes. “You’re identifying a common link as Caller X.”
“Correct,” Barrows nodded. “A potential common link. We need more information. And even then, the link isn’t a direct link with each of the four incidents the ITT is looking at. Yet. We’re working on it. These analyses take time. So far, Caller X is only a potential common element in the French metro bombing and the Miami cruise ship bombing. The link is tenuous, and we don’t have his identity. Caller X may be more than one person. Among other things, we’re analyzing usage of burner phones and attempting to correlate that usage with electronic footprints from other co-existing devices. Historical analysis, though, is problematic.”
“Aren’t calls from burner phones typically dead ends?” Charles asked as Samantha stood, depositing her dinner plate at the buffet, while an agent removed the trays of food and brought in a silver urn of coffee.
“I assume there are no dead ends,” Barrows said, “as long as I’m dealing with humans, who are incapable of operating without error. Burner phones make their calls over existing networks. People carrying burner phones often carry other phones, which constantly communicate with cell towers even when no calls are made. With smart phones and tablets in the mix, there are multiple ways to analyze telecom data and digital footprints these days, even when law enforcement agencies haven’t seized the phone. Forensic methodologies are constantly changing to keep up with the technological changes. As I’m sure you’re aware, the technical aspects…”
While she listened to Barrows explain the ever-changing world of forensic methodologies in the telecommunication world with mind-numbing complexity, Samantha placed a wedge of pound cake on a dessert plate. When she returned to the table, she watched Zeus finish the last of his berries. He glanced at the wedge of cake she’d placed on her plate, and gave a slight headshake. Below the table, his leg pressed harder against her thigh.
He grumbled, “Not even berries?”
As he watched, she popped a bite of buttery, dense, pound cake into her mouth. Grow up, she told herself, incapable of denying that she’d skipped the healthy berries just to see if he’d notice. The delicious, almond-flavored taste of the cake was only slightly marred by her adult inner voice.
Getting a rise out of Zeus on something as ridiculous as food choices shouldn’t make you feel so good.
Task at hand: OLIVER’s data.
Caller X—a possible link between two events the ITT is examining.
A potential smoking gun, perhaps pointed at Maximov?
“So, if you’re trying to hide your calls, you not only have to use a burner phone; you have to turn off all your other devices?” Charles asked.
“Our precise methodology of analyzing usage of co-existing digital devices is proprietary,” Zeus in
terjected before Barrows could respond. “But you’re on the right track, Charles.”
“I’ve been involved in cases where experts are employed to analyze telecommunications and cyber data.” Samantha put her fork down on her plate, after cutting one more square of pound cake that she planned to eat. “Isolation of co-existing digital devices while burner phones are used is something I haven’t come across before. The technique hasn’t been used by experts in the ITT proceeding.”
“It’s a new technique,” Barrows said.
“New techniques spell problems for admissibility.” Having experience with dealing with experts and consultants in a variety of fields, the one commonality she found was a tendency towards mind-boggling complication as the experts communicated the results of their analyses. Barrows’ reputation as a genius, one of the greatest minds of all times, meant he could take the complications to a new high. Anytime she came across new analytical techniques, warning signals sounded. In litigation, attempts to admit the results of expert analyses were often met with bitter opposition, which attacked not only the results, but also the qualifications of the experts employed to do the studies.
“Complex issues such as this were supposed to have been brought to the court’s attention months ago, so any attempt on my part to work with the results of your analysis will have to be carefully crafted. Can you keep this simple for me by focusing on Duvall or his co-defendant Tombeau; how is any of this relevant to them?”
“Caller X is only one line removed from Duvall and Tombeau,” Barrows said. “Caller X potentially had direct communication with David Thompson, the alleged perpetrator of the drone attacks on the Miami cruise ship.”
“I don’t see it,” Charles said.
“More details are proprietary,” Zeus said, with a stern gaze directed at Barrows. “Barrows can’t explain more about his methodology. However, he can explain more about analyzing digital footprints, in general. Basic stuff.”
Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2) Page 21