The REM Precept

by J. M. Lanham

  “What do you mean?”

  “I could never hack into Asteria and download the files we had on illegal slush funds overseas and phone calls and bank payments and all that shit because Asteria never trusted connected computers to store its most valuable information on. It’s kind of a Big Pharma thing. No one wants the latest wonder drug to wind up in the hands of a competitor with a silicon brain like me on staff, so the answer is to keep data storage simple by using standalone servers with no line in—”

  “—and without a line in,” Paul said, “no one can access those files without being physically on-site.” He thought for a moment, then asked, “So if you’re not hacking in, why the spiel about outdated chips?”

  “It means I can get us into the building after hours. Into any of the offices or computers or server rooms we need to access to get the files we had taken from us.”

  “This all sounds great off the cuff,” Sarah said, “but who’s to say Asteria even has copies of those files? They were highly incriminating. Surely Sturgis would’ve wanted to destroy every copy in existence.”

  “Of course he wants the evidence gone, but the truth is that he never had enough time to act. He didn’t have a clue we even had this information until last weekend, and by Monday morning his own board had him shitcanned outta there. Odds are there’s still a huge paper trail somewhere at Asteria headquarters. That is, if we can figure out where to find it.”

  Paul deadpanned, “You can’t be serious. The CIA’s most sought-after targets breaking into the one building we probably shouldn’t be within a hundred-mile radius of? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

  “Of course I do,” Fenton said. “But look. The feds are onto the townhouse, the laptop’s gone, and every backup of the files we need to nail these dickweeds has been wiped clean. At this stage in the game, it’s the only move we have left, don’t you think?”

  One look around the room and Paul knew everyone else was on board, but he asked anyway.

  “This sound good to you, Claire?”

  “Good? Fuck no, it doesn’t sound good! But what other choice do we have?”

  He nodded, then turned to Sarah. “I agree,” she said. “But even if Fenton can get us in, how do we know where to start?”

  “Paul used to work there,” Claire said. “He can lead us to Tanner’s old office, file storage, the works, right?”

  Reluctantly, Paul nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t there for long, but I should be able to get us where we need to go.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Fenton said as he grabbed the keys to Sarah’s company car off the nightstand. “But first we’ll need to stop by a friend’s house. Grab a few things.”

  “Grab a few things?” Sarah asked. “Like what? And who said you were driving?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you knew how to disable an access control system, or the video surveillance system, or the motion sensors that are sure to nail our asses the moment we take two steps into the building—”

  “All right, all right, all right,” Sarah said. “You’ve made your point”—she swiped the keys from him—“but you’ve lost your mind if you think you’re driving.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Paul asked, “Who’s this friend of yours?”

  “Teddy Barnes. My old roommate and partner in crime. We pulled a couple of lowkey jobs together in college, way before this whole Ocula fiasco. I got in touch shortly after I caught wind that Asteria’s henchmen were on my tail and told Teddy to make sure no one got ahold of my equipment while I was gone. But that was over a year ago, and Teddy wasn’t always the most reliable guy, especially when he was low on funds and high on, well, getting high.”

  “Meaning?” Paul asked.

  “He smoked a lot of pot. So I’m hoping he didn’t sell my shit for a dime bag.”

  “Me too,” Claire said. “Because if we can’t recover those files, everything we’ve worked to expose up to this point will be all for nothing.”

  All for nothing. The line stuck with Paul as he watched the other three walk toward the door, ready to embark on whatever fool’s errand Fenton wanted them to run. So what if they got into Asteria, recovered the files, went to the press, and brought down the Central Intelligence Agency while nearly bankrupting a corrupt pharmaceutical company all within a week. Would all of this lead Paul back to Michelle, back to Aaron? Would they be able to return to a normal life in the suburbs, or would their lives forever be marred by countless trials and litigation and death threats from government bureaucrats and Asteria stockholders determined to take their revenge out on the man who blew the lid off the scandal of the century? Was the entire plan they had focused on for the last six months—shedding light on the misdeeds of government and corporate America alike—all for nothing?

  As Paul followed Claire and Sarah and Fenton out to the car, the future of his little family weighing heavily on his mind, he simply didn’t know.

  Chapter 23:

  What Lies Beneath

  Delirious. Anxious. Even a little nauseous. For the last three days, Michelle Freeman had experienced a whirlwind of emotions that were enough to make even the most resilient captive’s head spin. But for some reason, sitting on a cot in a holding cell at CIA headquarters across from her brother-in-law was somewhat soothing. Maybe it was something in his eyes; they were the same color as Paul’s, after all, and gave her a sense of calm and familiarity in an unfamiliar place.

  Or, it could have been as simple as the slow, southern drawl echoing off the walls of the dorm-like room as Alex explained what he believed had turned every last living Freemans’ life upside down over the course of the last six months. His voice even had Aaron in a trance as little infant ears perked up every time the youngster’s uncle spoke.

  “So that’s how I ended up here,” Alex said as he leaned back in the only chair in the room. “All because of some stupid pill I never should’ve been takin’ in the first place.”

  “You don’t think dreaming up big game from taking a sleeping pill is a bit of a stretch, Alex?”

  Alex nodded, fully aware Michelle wasn’t buying it. “I know it’s crazy, so I ain’t here to try to convince you. But the truth is the CIA thinks it’s a threat, and there’s a good chance we’re not gettin’ out of here anytime soon, so that’s enough to get my attention.”

  “That and getting hit by a car, right?” Aaron cooed, and Michelle instinctively picked him up to rock him. “I still can’t believe I’m sitting here talking to you right now. Paul thought you were a goner.”

  “I came mighty damn close, that’s for sure.” Alex looked around the mostly featureless beige room. There was a cot on the wall furthest from the door, a chair in the corner, no windows, and a fluorescent light panel overhead. That was it. “Kinda weird they socked us away in the same room. Why do you think they put us in here like this?”

  “Get us talking, hoping we’ll slip up, say something that’ll lead them to the others,” she said, eyes pointing to the conspicuous black dome hiding a camera in the top corner by the door. “But who really knows. This whole situation has been nothing but one big mindfuck.”

  “They haven’t hurt you or anything, have they?”

  “Physically, no,” Michelle said. “I imagine they’ve got black sites for things like that.”

  “And your son?”

  “He’s fine. At least, as fine as he can be given the situation. Hopefully he won’t be old enough to remember this mess when he gets older. They separated us when we were first taken in and I thought I was going to die. But now we’re back together”—she looked adoringly into Aaron’s eyes as he bounced on her knee—“So I don’t know. Maybe they’re not complete monsters.”

  “So, how long have you been here?”

  “Three days, give or take. Hard to keep track when you never see the light of day.”

  One look at the dark circles weighing heavily under Michelle’s eyes and Alex could tell she hadn’t slept a wink since her arrival. “T
hey tell you anything?”

  “Only that Paul is wanted for murder, and they think I’m an accomplice.”

  “Come again?”

  “The old farmhouse. They found Paul’s old boss buried in a shallow grave there. Said they had Paul on over a dozen federal charges that could land us both in jail for the rest of our lives. And the worst part is that they threatened to take Aaron away.” She fought back the tears. “I can’t lose my son, Alex. I just can’t.”

  Alex leaned forward, hands clasped, arms propped on his knees. “Michelle, listen to me. Nothing’s gonna happen to you or Aaron here, you understand? You mark my words, by this time next week this whole thing’s gonna be little more than a bad memory.”

  Michelle’s eyebrows shot together. “How can you even say something like that, Alex? My family’s life has been completely uprooted. We’ve been kidnapped, chased, threatened, accused of murder, illegally detained … All while you’ve been laid up in some hospital somewhere for the last six months.” Michelle’s eyes sharpened. Suspiciously, “They offer you a deal? What’s your angle here?”

  Alex put a hand up. “No, no, no, Michelle. I’m telling you, you’ve got it all wrong. I’d never take a deal—”

  “You know,” Michelle said, “you never said why you weren’t with the others when the CIA grabbed you.”

  “What?”

  “You were with Paul and the other outliers at the cabin in Spring Hill when you left to get gas for the generators, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, why were you alone? You said there were five of you. Why didn’t someone tag along?”

  “What are you gettin’ at, Michelle?”

  “It’s a simple question, Alex. Why did you go alone to get gas? Was it because you were meeting someone?”

  “Now who in the hell would I even be meeting up in the middle of nowhere?”

  The young mother wasn’t buying it. She jumped up with her child and walked briskly to the camera. “HEY! CLINE! WHOEVER’S LISTENING. GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE, NOW!”

  “Now, Michelle,” Alex said as he stood up, “why don’t we just all sit back down and talk this through, okay?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” she snapped. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Alex, and I can spot a fucking liar when I see one. Your story makes about as much sense as a shitty daytime drama. That is, unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “It’s like I said, I left to get the gas, and Kovic snatched me up at the gas station. If you can just trust me on this I promise—”

  “Promise what? That you’ll get us all out of this? How, Alex? How?” Aaron was starting to cry now, and Michelle’s patience was wearing thin. She waited for a response, but was answered only with a frustratingly blank face. “That’s what I thought,” she said, turning back to the camera. It was obvious he was hiding something; she just wasn’t sure what. Perhaps he’d cut a deal with the CIA in exchange for information on the whereabouts of the other outliers. It would certainly explain why the guards had stuffed them both in a shared cell when keeping them separate made a lot more sense. Or maybe he’d been in on it all along, never having checked in as a John Doe at some hospital somewhere in the first place.

  Michelle couldn’t put her finger on it. Not yet. But her bullshit detector never failed. Five years of working in the emergency room had fine-tuned it. And if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Alex Freeman was hiding something.

  If only she knew what.

  ***

  It was Friday afternoon at Teddy Barnes’ apartment complex, and already the college kids occupying the surrounding units were getting ready for a weekend full of booze and bad decisions. Music blasted and laughter boomed from the apartment to the left of where Paul and Fenton stood as they knocked and waited for Teddy to invite them into apartment 704. On the right, the door to 706 was wide open as young scantily clad women breezed in and out of the frame, debating about what to wear as if their choice in attire were a matter of life and death.

  Paul knocked on Teddy’s door again while Fenton failed to divert his attention from the girls next door. A muffled, “All right, all right. Give me a fucking second” came from inside the apartment as Fenton’s old roomie shuffled to the door. He cracked it open and spoke through the chain, “Who is it and what do you want?”

  Fenton stepped over. “Hey, Teddy. Long time, no see.”

  “Well if it isn’t Fenton-fucking-Reed!” He unlatched the chain and sprang forward, the unexpected hug catching Fenton by surprise. “How the hell are you, man? I thought you were dead or in jail or something. Where’ve you been for the last year?” Teddy’s smile straightened when he noticed Paul standing by. “And who’s this guy? Looks like a fed or something. Wait,” he said, stepping back, “you’re not working for the feds now, are you? Is that where you’ve been all this time?”

  Fenton said, “Calm down, Teddy. No one’s working with the feds here. In fact”—he looked back at Paul—“it’s quite the opposite. Now, can we come in or are you gonna leave us sweating our asses off out here?”

  Skeptical, “Yeah. Sure, man. Come on in.” He ushered them inside, then took a swift and paranoid look up and down the breezeway before locking the door. “Don’t mind Roxie there. She’s harmless.” The punk-rocker chick on the couch gave a half-hearted wave, then went back to blasting the aliens invading her boyfriend’s sixty-inch big screen. “So what brings you back here?”

  “In a word, equipment,” Fenton said. “We’re in a pinch here, Teddy, and I’m hoping you kept your promise.”

  “Hoping I kept my promise?” Teddy feigned offense. “Dude, I hope you know me better than that.” He disappeared into the back for a minute as Paul and Fenton stood awkwardly in the living room, watching the girl with hot pink hair on the couch rage through her headset while tough-talking a bunch of kids online. Soon Teddy reemerged, holding a large storage box. He set it on the coffee table and said, “Some cop came by earlier this week asking about this stuff, but I stuck to the plan. Give ’em just enough to get ’em off your backs. Isn’t that what you used to say?”

  Fenton tossed the lid from the box, then smiled. “Yeah, buddy. You did good.” The storage box might as well have been labeled the Essential Hacker’s Tool Kit. A half-dozen ghosted smartphones. Two flash-powered laptops equipped with a treasure trove of password crackers and network vulnerability scanners. A handful of Bluetooth low-energy (BLE) key cards. Punch-down tools and impact tools and every network tool they’d ever need to circumvent the security at Asteria headquarters.

  One look at Fenton’s face, and Paul knew the trip had been worth it. “Got everything you need?”

  “I think so,” Fenton said. “Unless Asteria decided to upgrade its security to match that of a GCI-rated country—”

  “GCI-what?”

  “Global cybersecurity index,” Teddy and Fenton said in unison.

  Fenton finished, “Basically, Asteria would have to have a cyber security package to rival that of a small country.” He picked up the box and motioned to Paul to leave, when Teddy blocked the door.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, man. What’s all this Asteria talk? You talking about the building downtown?” He crossed his arms and said, “So what’s up, you got a score up your sleeve you didn’t tell your old buddy about?”

  “It’s not like that, Teddy. Trust me, this isn’t about changing grades or wiping out credit scores. We’re dealing with some seriously bad people here. If I were you I’d forget about our short-lived reunion here, okay, man?”

  “Ah you know me, buddy,” Teddy said with a crooked smile, eyeing the box. “I can be real forgetful, for the right price, of course.”

  Paul said, “You’ve gotta be kidding me with this guy.” He stared down Teddy. “You really think you’re gonna keep us from walking out that door?”

  Things were getting heated fast when Fenton stepped in, eager to deescalate the situation. He said, “Surely we can work s
omething out. So what do you want, Teddy?”

  “You know I’d never rummage through your stuff,” he said to Fenton’s rolling eyes. “But I’m wondering: you still got that EMV cloner?”

  “Oh come on, man! The cloner?”

  “English, please,” Paul said.

  “A credit card cloning device,” Fenton said. “One that captures personal data from chip cards.” He turned to Teddy. “What in the hell do you need that for?”

  “What do you think?”

  “No way, man. We had a deal.”

  “Yeah, buddy. And I upheld my end of it, didn’t I? I mean, it sounds like you’re into some serious shit here, maybe even puttin’ me at risk just coming here, ya know? So what’s a little bonus for the trouble between old friends?”

  Paul leaned in to Fenton and whispered, “Do we really need this chip thing?” Fenton shook his head no. “So just let him have it and let’s get the hell out of here. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

  Fenton gave Paul a vicious side-eye as he reached in the box and pulled out the brick-shaped chip reader. He smacked it into Teddy’s outstretched hand and said, “Fine. Take it. Now, we done here?”

  Teddy grinned as he marveled at the device. “Yeah, man. We’re done here.” The visitors quickly left as Teddy leaned out into the breezeway to yell, “Hey, Fenton. I hope this doesn’t mean there’s hard feelings between us or anything, all right?”

  The stoner wasn’t worth answering, Fenton reasoned as the two kept walking. After all, it was like Paul said. They had bigger fish to fry.

  Chapter 24:

  Voices

  It was Friday evening when two agents led Colin Kovic into Margaret Lancaster’s office at Langley, dumping him in the chair in front of her desk before leaving the unkempt subordinate alone with his disgruntled boss. She was already several pages into Kovic’s psych evaluation, and didn’t bother to look up. Instead, she continued reading, fingers drumming on the desk, nails echoing in patterns of four while she chewed her lip and pondered what to do with the man sitting across from her.