Knight Moves

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by Julie Moffett


  At this point, the Hidden Avenger was offering them critical information to prevent a major terrorist attack, and access to the new back door he’d created in ShadowCrypt. Since nearly all the criminal and terrorist groups worldwide used that encryption, the ability to monitor their communications could return the NSA to its glory days before the patch. If she handled this right and brought him in with his new back door, she’d get a lot of credit right at the time when the political leadership would be looking for outstanding candidates to replace the director when he retired.

  It was hard to tell if the timing on all of this was chance or purposeful. Was it coincidence the Avenger had abruptly surfaced just as the director of the NSA had internally announced to a small group of high-ranking staff he was retiring next year? She hated the active positioning of some of her peers that had followed, while they tried to establish themselves as his logical replacement. She wouldn’t stoop that low. But if her job performance merited the recognition, and if the country were safer because she’d help bring down a terrorist group, well, then she wasn’t above becoming the first woman director.

  Her phone suddenly dinged, and she picked it up. Pressing her finger to the button, she typed in her password, scanning Jim’s reply.

  Crypto-Secure Phone

  From: Deputy Director of the Operations Division (DDIR), NSA

  To: Director of the National Security Operations Center (NSOC)

  Classification: Top Secret, No Foreign

  0254 GMT

  Message Follows:

  I stopped by your office earlier today, but you weren’t there. The Hidden Avenger will not offer us anything more until we can assure him immunity and safety for his family. Where do we stand on the request to the Justice Department?

  End of Message

  Candace had expected the answer. The Hidden Avenger was as cautious as he was clever. He was going to keep a low profile until he received assurances they could deliver, and he wouldn’t be tricked into exposing himself until he received what he wanted. Technically, he was holding all the leverage right now, but that depended on him remaining anonymous. She was both puzzled and intrigued by reports that the Avenger was actually one of their own, a former NSA agent named Ethan Sinclair who’d vanished fourteen years ago without a trace.

  There was important information on his departure and disappearance that she was missing and needed to know. His personnel records indicated he was a superior performer with no known personnel issues. What would cause him to quit or vanish? What was he afraid of that would lead him to abandon a family that he loved dearly, by all accounts? Why was he asking for federal protection for himself and his family, as well as immunity from prosecution for any real or accidental crimes? What else was he hiding?

  None of the Avenger’s requests were simple, but, at this point, he was holding all the cards. And he wouldn’t play unless the NSA could deliver on what he wanted.

  Well-honed intuition told her the Avenger was running from something, or someone, at the NSA. She was also certain the director of research at the NSA and Sinclair’s former boss, Isaac Remington, knew a lot more than he was sharing. Was he hiding something that would enhance his chances to bring in the Avenger himself, so he could showcase his resourcefulness and became the next director? Or did he know something else—something more sinister that could implicate someone within the agency?

  Remington would bear watching either way. From this moment on, she’d have to be extremely careful with whom she shared her concerns. Right now, she trusted Jim Avers implicitly and would rely on him for assistance.

  We can’t move forward fully yet because the Justice Department needs to understand why he needs immunity. What potential prosecution is he attempting to avoid? It’s one thing if he wants immunity for the ShadowCrypt patch. It’s entirely another if he’s stealing credit card numbers or hacking into commercial firms. If he has engaged in the latter, the Justice Department could not provide immunity from civil suits for the damages. They can deal in federal charges only.

  She sent the reply, then went to the small refrigerator in her office, removing a bottle of water and taking a drink. She was supposed to go to the gym to prepare for a duathlon—mountain biking and running—but she was leaning toward a quiet night in front of the television instead. She tried to remember if there were any shows on tonight that she liked when her phone dinged again.

  Understood. Will go back to the Avenger and see if I can narrow things down a little. Don’t forget he wants to meet with the director. It’s part of his request.

  Candace stared at the text. Wasn’t it strange that the Hidden Avenger would insist on a private meeting with General Norton? What could possibly be the purpose? It was not widely known within the NSA that he intended to retire soon, nor was the information public yet. In her mind, that meant the Hidden Avenger had inside connections at the NSA or was a former employee, further strengthening the case that Ethan Sinclair might indeed be the man they were looking for. But what had happened to make him go rogue?

  I spoke with the director yesterday, and he’s agreed to the meeting. General Norton is intrigued by the possibility the Avenger is one of our own. We’ve also been monitoring the terrorist group the Avenger gave us information on and have confirmed heightened chatter. But without the encryption-breaking back door, we can’t follow what they are saying. Still, the FBI has identified and is tracking the individuals, anyone communicating with them, and identified associates. The reports appear to confirm the Avenger’s information.

  Jim answered almost immediately.

  Avenger is using code names for the next time and method of communication with us and will send instructions within two days providing the connection details. He says we’ll know the communication is from him because it will include the word “Ahab.”

  Ahab? Candace frowned at the screen. What was the purpose of that unusual code name? Was it random, or was he trying to tell them something? She typed out a response.

  Ahab as in the captain of the whaling ship in Moby Dick or as in King Ahab in the Bible? Check both of these out, as well as any other Ahab that leaps to mind. Look inside the agency first. Have we ever had an operation called Moby Dick or anything similar that we can tie the name Ahab to? The Avenger strikes me as someone who has a detailed purpose for everything he does. There must be a hidden message there. Find it.

  Candace sent the message and plopped down in her office chair. Any plans for the gym or television this evening had just gone out the window. It looked like she needed to brew a strong cup of coffee and start reading Moby Dick again.

  Chapter Five

  ANGEL SINCLAIR

  Mom took it better than I expected. She asked me all the same questions that Gwen did, plus a lot more. She scoured over every inch of the forms and brochure and made me look up the academy online. It had the same photos and information from the brochure and nothing more.

  “I don’t understand why they want you to start right away.” Mom pushed her fingers through her hair, which was as red as Gwen’s and mine. “You’re already a month into your senior year of high school. There could be academic repercussions for pulling you out like this.”

  “Mom, I love you, but we both know I won’t be missing out on anything at Excalibur. It’s too easy for me and you know it. Slash told me the curriculum at the academy is quite advanced. It’s like a first year at college. It’s just what I need to challenge me academically.”

  “But you’re not even sixteen yet.”

  “I will be in a couple of weeks. This isn’t about my age, Mom. I know I can do this, and Slash thinks so, too. I’m excited to check it out. Please let me give it a try. If it doesn’t work out, I’m back here in a snap. But if I don’t try, I know I’ll regret it.”

  Mom looked over at Gwen for support, but to my surprise, Gwen said, “If she wants to try, let her do it. We both know she can handle it academically. Slash nominated her, so he must believe she has what it takes to do well t
here. Besides, Angel may be just sixteen, but she’s got more common sense than most people I know my age. She’ll also have friends there to keep her in line. Even better, she won’t be far away. We can check up on her as often as needed.”

  “Hey,” I protested, but Gwen just grinned.

  My mom blew out a breath and stood from the table. “I’m sorry, but I have to think about this. It’s quite unexpected.”

  It was the best I was going to get for now, so I didn’t push it. Instead I rose from the table, following her toward the kitchen. “Mom, can I go to Wally’s after dinner?”

  Wally had texted Frankie and me, telling us we had to come over after dinner to discuss “it.” We both knew what “it” he was talking about.

  Mom turned on the stove and pulled a casserole out of the refrigerator. “Sure. I’ll have Gwen drop you off on her way home. You can call me when you’re ready to come home.”

  I returned to my room and quickly texted Wally and Frankie I could come. Frankie responded with a half-dozen brain explosion emojis, said she’d also gotten a visit from “you know who,” and she was coming, too.

  Mom, Gwen, and I talked about everything at dinner except for the academy, although that’s all I could think about. When we finished, I offered to do the dishes so I could get to Wally’s as soon as possible.

  When I finally arrived at Wally’s, Frankie was already there, chatting with Wally’s mom and dad. Wally took us to his room and closed the door behind him. For a moment I just stood there.

  “What’s that?” I said pointing at the middle of his room, where a huge battlefield was set up with dozens of soldier figures, tanks, and airplanes.

  Wally looked pleased that I’d asked. “That? Oh, that’s Operation Barbarossa from World War II. It took place from June to July 1941. Hitler’s attack on the USSR was the bloodiest of the war, and as a battle it covered the largest area. It didn’t cause the USSR to collapse, but his victory destroyed the Red Army in western Russia. The Soviets had to retreat and spend years rebuilding their army.”

  I circled around the table, intrigued. “I didn’t know you liked this stuff.”

  “Oh, he does,” Frankie said. “He’s a military buff. He can recreate hundreds of the great battles of history right from his head.”

  Wally’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Yeah, obviously I have a lot of free time on my hands, so I store a lot of random facts up here.” He tapped his head.

  “That’s totally cool, Wally.” I meant it. Sometimes, he was like a walking encyclopedia. “What else is stored in that head of yours?”

  He shrugged, the color in his face fading as he stood a little straighter. “Tons of stuff. The constellations, the periodic table of elements, all the bones and muscles in the body, and a lot of geographic facts like longest rivers, largest deserts, etc. Some of it’s useless trivia, but I’m hoping to try out for Jeopardy! someday. I’ll make myself a nice little nest egg and start investing in cryptocurrency.”

  “Perfect.” Reluctantly, I tore my gaze from the battlefield and got right to the point of why we were here. “Okay, White Knights, let’s get real. Who’s going for UTOP?”

  “You mean the academy,” Frankie corrected me.

  “No, I mean UTOP. The academy is what we use in mixed company, meaning nonclassified. We’re alone here, so we can say we’re trying out for UTOP. Operative status. If we don’t make it, we’re back at Excalibur within four weeks.”

  “Well, I’ve got mixed feelings about UTOP,” Wally admitted, sitting on the corner of his bed. “Slash said there would be some physical challenges. That would sink me before I even got started.”

  “He also told me it wasn’t going to be boot camp,” I countered. “According to Slash, no one fails because they can’t do a push-up.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Frankie said with feeling.

  “Seriously, it’s not a military academy.” I wondered if I were trying too hard to convince myself of that. “They’re looking for other stuff.”

  “What other stuff?” Frankie asked.

  “Skills. Mine and Wally’s in cybersecurity, and your mad graphic abilities on the keyboard.”

  “Does that make us good spy material?” Frankie wondered.

  “Maybe. It was enough to get us nominated. I guess we’ll find out. Are you guys going for it?”

  Frankie nodded, excitement flashing in her eyes. “I’m going for it. My dad is in the military, so that should let you know how much money there is in the bank for me to go to a four-year university without taking on crippling debt.” She leaned against Wally’s dresser. “This is my shot at a free education and a solid job as soon as I graduate. It’s worth it, even if I need to figure out how to do a push-up.”

  I didn’t think it would be as simple as a push-up, but I looked at Wally anyway. “In or out?”

  “Well, if I’m not going to wash out because of the physical challenges, then heck yes, I’m in. Are you kidding me? Harris. Wally Harris—spy. Girls would totally be into me.”

  “You’re going to try out for UTOP because you think it will get you girls?”

  “Heck yes, I’m doing it for the girls. And for national security, of course. I assure you, both are great motivators.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, we don’t get a lot of time to prove our worth.”

  “Four weeks doesn’t seem like a long time,” Frankie mused. “Are your parents okay with it, Wally?”

  “Why wouldn’t they be?” He shrugged. “They’re rightfully seduced by the possibility of a free, four-year university education. In fact, I think they stopped listening after I said the word free. Plus, if I wanted to try it, I don’t think they could think of a good reason I shouldn’t.”

  “I think my dad suspects it’s something other than a training academy,” Frankie said. “He knows it’s connected to us bringing down that Iraqi hacker. But he’s been quiet about it. What about you, Angel? Is your mom cool with it?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say she’s cool, but I think she’s going to agree. Personally, I’m intrigued by the challenge. But more importantly, I’m glad you guys want to give it a go. I don’t want to break up the White Knights.” Embarrassed by my unexpected and emotional declaration, I looked at the floor, my cheeks heating.

  “Awww, that is so sweet, Angel,” Frankie said. “All for one, and one for all?”

  She held out her hand, palm down. After a moment, Wally put his on top of hers. They both looked at me. Feeling kind of stupid, I put my hand on top of Wally’s.

  “Let’s do it,” Frankie said with a grin. “White Knights forever.”

  Chapter Six

  ANGEL SINCLAIR

  When I returned home from Wally’s, I got ready for bed. After my mom kissed me good-night, waited until the sound of her footsteps faded down the hall, then climbed out of bed, pushed all thoughts of UTOP and spy school aside, and sat down in front of my laptop. It was time to continue the search for my father.

  The disappearance of my dad is perhaps the greatest mystery of my life. One day he woke up, went to work, and never arrived. His car was parked out in front of the building where he worked, and his wallet, filled with cash and credit cards, was placed atop his neatly folded jacket in the passenger seat. The car was locked from the outside, the key thoughtfully tucked under the front tire. No evidence of violence or robbery. He hadn’t cleaned out his bank account or taken his passport.

  He just vanished without a trace.

  A brilliant cryptologist, mathematician, and computer programmer, my father had worked as a security engineering analyst at King’s Security. According to the police report—which I read after hacking into the department when I was thirteen—he had a happy home life with a wife and children he supposedly adored, no debt, and a bright future. He was well liked by his colleagues and had no enemies. After searching for him for several months, the police gave up. They weren’t able to confirm there’d been foul play, which eventually led them to believe it had been a willful
disappearance. As the years passed, it was almost as if his existence was wiped from the face of the earth.

  Except for us—the family he’d left behind.

  Even though I’d hadn’t known my father, I’d never forgotten about him. Neither had Mom or Gwen. Mom still wore her wedding ring, which I used to think was crazy, but not so much anymore. Because now I believed my father was still alive.

  For years, I’d compiled tons of information on him, creating a trail that just a few weeks ago led me right to the doorstep of the NSA. That’s when I received an anonymous email warning me away from trying to find him and suggesting “criminal elements inside the NSA” were monitoring me.

  It was a shocking and exhilarating development, because it seemed to confirm my father was still alive. It also made me wonder if my search for him was on target. Had my father worked for the NSA? If so, was he a spy? Was that why he’d abandoned us?

  Whatever the reason for his disappearance, I was determined to find him and get to the truth, regardless of whether I was being watched or not. I’d just be more careful. It was risky, but it was important. Perhaps the most important thing in my life.

  I flexed my fingers and rested the tips on the keyboard. I didn’t care what anyone said. This was my life, and I was never going to stop until I uncovered the truth about my dad.

  Chapter Seven

  ISAAC REMINGTON

  Executive Director, Research Directorate ED/RD, NSA

  Crypto-Secure Phone

 

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