“You were right. About the ID card. You were right. But there’s more. Total control of the...”
“Take him downstairs,” someone from the other room interrupted.
It was a new voice, one Kyle wasn’t familiar with, but he couldn’t tell who it belonged to as his view was blocked by the wall now scored with a line of five bullet holes all in a row. Cory quickly escorted Harry from the hotel room before he could say anything else, then handed him off to another agent. The new voice that had ordered Harry’s removal belonged to a tall man, and Kyle thought he detected a faint British accent.
“It appears there were two accomplices waiting in a car for these gentlemen,” the man said. “They are now in custody.”
Kyle walked into the living room so the camera could pick up every image, every word. “Who are you?”
The man leaned against the wall next to the dummy who still sat, unmoved. “Just another agent. That’ll be all,” he said, turning to Cory.
“I’ll get an ambulance,” Cory said. He looked to new Fed, who nodded his approval, then left the room. A small crowd had gathered out in the hall.
The man walked over to the door and gently closed it. He was a gentleman with grace and finesse, and possessed a natural coolness that worried Kyle. He had emerged on the scene at the right time, his authority not questioned, even by Carmen who had moved into the living area and was now leaning against the wall. It was obvious she knew who he was. Perhaps her silent partner.
“Is Harry right about it not being over?” Kyle asked, making sure he wasn’t blocking the camera.
“His real name is Dwight. That much I know, but little else. Carmen briefed me on this morning’s excursions.”
Kyle looked over to Carmen, whose gaze dropped to the floor. “Is this true?”
She glanced up. “I had to. He’s my boss.”
Kyle looked back toward the man. “And you would be...”
“You can call me Mulder,” the man said with a smile.
“You didn’t answer my question. Was Harry – or Dwight – whoever; was he right? A national ID card? And total control of what?”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to answer. I’m sure you can appreciate that fact. The truth be known, I’m here to inform you how things are going to proceed.”
“Proceed? Where’s Norm?” Kyle asked. Carmen remained against the wall, apprehensive about uttering a single word.
“Norm is currently in Columbus, Ohio, gaining a better understanding of our objective. You’ll be joining him shortly.”
Kyle sighed, shaking his head. “You can’t be serious?”
“Oh, yes, I am terribly serious. Unfortunately, you’ve become involved in a highly sensitive federal investigation, and your presence could have tremendous implications.”
“I’m going to tell you exactly what I told Dwight this morning. If anything happens to me, packets of information will flood FBI offices and the Press. Since it’s obvious Norm wasn’t aware of your activities, I’m sure other FBI agents are in the dark as well.”
“Your threat poses little danger to me, Mr. Randall. I can handle any unsolicited information that arrives at Bureau offices, and as for the Press, well, your claims, I’m afraid, will fall on deaf ears. I will meet with the Press this evening and explain the massive conspiracy we’ve uncovered here today. I will also tell them how we apprehended Charles Duncan’s killers. Any further FBI involvement will not be suspected.”
“Are you going to tell me why?”
“The information is classified.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Kyle said sternly. “It’s just us. Besides, I’ve earned the right.”
“Details will be provided to you in due course.”
“Details of what?”
Carmen stood, looking over toward her boss. “Just tell him, Willis.”
Kyle glared at Willis, his Mulder persona likely a weak attempt at humor, then switched his gaze to Carmen. “You knew all along?”
Carmen nodded.
“Why?”
She looked up, her expression weary. “It’s a long story, Kyle.”
“So, you and the FBI were actually responsible for Charlie’s death?”
Willis shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. In fact, I only learned of Dwight today. Our sole contact was Rudy Kain, and he informed us of Charlie’s death right after it happened. We were not responsible.”
“Then why all this? What’s going on?”
“Rudy Kain was placed in Norm Alexander’s department at the request of my superior. He was tasked with hiring a team that could execute our project to meet our deadlines.”
“Project?” Kyle asked, bewildered. “Corrupting computer code so it will scramble bank accounts?”
“The actual intent was rather harmless,” Willis explained, reluctantly resolved to clarify his position. “No money was ever intended to be diverted, but then Charlie, and you eventually, discovered that it was. Rudy kept us informed of how our operation was proceeding, but we had no idea of any plan to steal money, and we think Rudy didn’t either. We figured the team he hired, with Dwight the apparent leader, added their own little software recipe to the mix to take advantage of the situation.”
“Where’s the benefit of destroying people’s lives like that? Just wiping out their money in a blink of an eye?”
Willis pulled one of the chairs from the table, took a seat and crossed his legs as a true gentleman would. “The intent for society to become cashless has been ongoing for quite some time, and it’s nothing new. Even as early as 1970, plans were in the works to be totally cashless by 2050; however, there are advantages to being cashless which you may not be aware. There are basically two kinds of crimes committed, Mr. Randall. Crimes of passion and crimes of profit. Crimes of passion can’t be monitored all that well, I’m afraid, but we can the profit, more so if we become cashless.”
“How noble,” Kyle sneered. “What’s the rush?”
“People are killed for cash,” Carmen blurted out. “Remember I told you my father was killed. Shot in cold blood because he was carrying a satchel of cash from a crime scene. Someone wanted the money and killed him for it.”
“Only a fraction of the nation’s bank accounts will be impacted,” Willis explained. “And even fewer of the European Union banks. Besides, it will only be temporary, or that was the plan until it was discovered that some of the money was actually being stolen, or rather will be stolen. Scrambling accounts is effectively harmless. Banks are meticulous about keeping hard copy records for their clients, and they keep backup tapes for a long period of time, up to several years. The idea was to generate a panic, blow it out of proportion in the media all the while knowing it was rather benign. This would provide an avenue to introduce the card, controlled by the government of course; restore the balances on the new cards in full cooperation with the banks, and then within a couple of months everything will clear up. We won’t be totally cashless, of course, but our foot will be in the door. We will accomplish more in a single month than we would waiting another 10 or 20 years for the American people to warm to the idea.”
“So, you essentially wipe out the bank accounts, splash it on TV to cause panic, then the federal government steps in with a new smart card that replaces every other card.”
“That’s the basic idea,” Willis said. “People won’t trust the banks any longer. Confidence in the existing banking system will be lost, and with a little spin regarding the threat of a financial terrorist attack, along with a revolutionary new biometric smart card, it could be a good sell.”
“Do you really expect people will accept some sort of government finance card, that can easily be tracked, I might add, provided by the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”
Willis smiled, crossing his legs the other way. “Did I say the FBI is sponsoring this card? Hum.” There was a smug little pause as Willis seemed to ponder…oh who could it be? “We have a vested interest, but it’s not us.”
/>
Kyle thought for a second, trying to fit the pieces together in his mind. “That’s what he meant?”
“Excuse me?” Willis said.
“That’s it. That’s what Dwight meant. You want to get total control over the Internet itself, right? It’s not just an ID card, is it?”
“You’re reaching now, Mr. Randall.”
“No…no, I don’t think so,” Kyle said. “Dwight was going to say control of the Internet. And the national ID card isn’t just for identification or buying, is it? It’s for gaining access to the Internet itself. A complete, tailored tracking system, that’s what it is. Every catastrophe prior to this didn’t work, did it? Y2K, 9/11, the stock market crashes, and even the Slammer virus. None of those shook people’s confidence enough to push the legislation through. So, you orchestrate this embedded code to get into the core of financial networks where an Internet virus couldn’t possibly reach, and even if it could, it wouldn’t have the admin permissions to do anything except clog up a system or slow it down for a few days.”
Willis smiled, shaking his head slowly. “No one will believe that.”
“Oh my gosh,” Kyle said, a grin surfacing as the pieces fell together. “I’m right, aren’t I? The national ID card, I read in Charlie’s research the EU is starting this now. They have some agency…umm, the Justice and Home Affairs Council, something like that; they are about to call on all EU member states to develop standards for their card. One card, one number, to track everyone. To track their finances, movements, activities. All of it.”
Willis didn’t answer right away as he sat in the chair eyeing Kyle. He finally let out a weary sigh and said, “I think we’re done here.”
Kyle fixed his eyes directly on Willis. “I’m not going with you to Columbus.”
Willis stood. “Unfortunately, young man, you have little choice. Your deposition on the events which have just transpired, and detailing Dwight’s involvement, is crucial to our investigation. It will be a case of simple embezzlement, that’s all. Unfortunately, your refusal will be treated as a federal offense, I’m afraid.”
Kyle managed a faint smile. “Has Carmen mentioned my propensity to plan ahead?”
Willis glanced at Carmen, then looked back to Kyle. “I’m not quite sure I understand.”
Kyle leaned against the east wall and pointed to the television. “See on the TV?”
“The pager?” Willis said, confused.
Kyle shook his head slowly, looking directly at Willis. “’Fraid not. A camera. You can pick them up on the Internet for a good price, actually. And you don’t need a national or worldwide ID card, either.”
Willis’ eyes widened as he slowly veered his gaze toward Carmen, whose mouth gaped open slightly, staring at Kyle.
“It also has a built-in microphone,” Kyle added with a smile.
Willis stood and, in a slow stride, went over to the television, picked up the pager-camera and hurled it at the far wall by the door. It hit with a thud, flaring off in a dozen pieces. All three stood in silence. Kyle wondered what Willis’ next move would be, as he seemed to be unpredictable and calculating.
There was a knock at the door. Willis opened it to paramedics pushing a gurney. They entered and disappeared into the bedroom where Santiago’s body was still laying on the carpet. Kyle avoided looking into the bedroom since it happened, the queasiness in his stomach still churning. Cory and another man entered the room and snapped a few pictures, then escorted the paramedics out, Santiago’s body loaded up and covered with a blue sheet.
Willis closed the door and walked toward Kyle. “Where’s the video recorder located?”
“Actually, it’s not only being recorded, there’s also several key individuals watching and listening to everything.”
“Where?” he asked, his tone sharp.
“In the building across the street.”
“It changes nothing,” Willis said.
“We’ll see,” said Kyle, “we’ll just see.”
Willis opened the door and accompanied Kyle out, Carmen following behind as several police officers and hotel officials entered the room. There passed a gauntlet of people standing in the hallway, a few officers holding back the on-lookers. They approached the glass elevator on the eighth floor and rode down. A throng of spectators had gathered in the open-air restaurant, watching the elevator descended. They were creating a new kind of happy hour with all the excitement going on.
They got off the elevator at the lobby and headed for the exit, two other FBI agents tagging behind. As they stepped outside a media frenzy engulfed them. The television vans had moved from the building across the street where Robert had gathered them just outside the hotel entrance, cameras, microphones and questions assaulting them. Questions and photos flew from all directions.
“Is the director of the FBI involved?”
“Can you give us details on the national identification card?”
“What will you do next?”
“Kyle, are you being taken into custody?”
“Did you really think you could govern a global Internet?”
“Who was killed in the gunfire?”
“Can you make a statement?”
Willis and the two agents pushed themselves along with Carmen, Kyle silently following behind. Kyle had never seen so many reporters in his life. They had been given a feast of information by Robert but were still hungry for more. Kyle searched the crowd for Robert, relieved he couldn’t see him anywhere. He was afraid Robert would be arrested as well and there was still more work to do. It wasn’t over just yet. If Willis followed through with his plans to ship Kyle off to Columbus, the rest of his own plans would fall through as well.
They made it to a pair of waiting dark sedans, the same ones that had been following him for the past several days, with the Press close on their heels, the questions still coming fast and loud, but few answers. Willis opened the back door and pushed Kyle in; Carmen eased in beside him. Willis took the driver’s seat of the first sedan while the two agents climbed in the other car. They were forced to idle their way out of the parking lot as cameras flashed and reporters pressed themselves against the tinted windows, yelling questions and accusations at Willis.
Within two minutes they were on the freeway, headed downtown. Willis remained quiet, not even looking back at Kyle or Carmen. Kyle wanted to reach his hand over to her, just a little reassurance, but knew he couldn’t because they had betrayed one another.
“What’s going to happen now?” Kyle whispered to her.
At first, she didn’t answer, only glanced across at him with a somber expression, then with a fatigued sigh answered, “I’m not sure. This could be very bad.”
“In what way?”
“If the Press airs that footage, which I’m sure they will, it will cause a panic. We might not have to wait for another terrorist attack to prompt a catastrophe.”
“What’s will happen to you?”
Another sigh. “I was following orders, doing nothing illegal but it might be an ethics issue. I might lose my job, or get transferred to Alaska or something.”
She managed a weak smile.
“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” he said softly. “I don’t know if this matters, but part of the condition I imposed upon the Press was that your face and identity not be revealed.”
She turned her head toward him, another half-smile emerging. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t want you to get hurt. I’m not sure I understand why you were involved, but I don’t think you intended to harm anyone.”
“I’m tired,” she whispered, dazed and staring out the passenger window. “I’m so tired. I knew what I was doing. There are several dozen involved in this to some degree, and most of us are sick of seeing people we work with and love killed over something as trivial as money. This just seemed like a good idea. I still think it is, but if we wait for the people to reach that conclusion too…it just won’t happen. At least for a long, long t
ime.”
“It will,” Kyle said, trying to be supportive. “Maybe not where a government agency controls everything, but the security will come. But it has to in its own time, at its own pace.”
“And how many people will die and suffer in the meantime?”
“Removing cash from our monetary system won’t solve anything, and neither will tracking every Internet user in the world, if that’s where it was headed. Besides, if we were to go cashless, the financial crimes would increase by a magnitude you can’t even imagine. FBI agents will no longer be educated in law, business or finance, but computer programmers and technicians, maybe even reformed hackers, because all the crimes of the future will be done from a keyboard.”
“I guess it’s a moot point now.”
____________
They arrived at the FBI office just after four and Willis ordered Kyle to an empty office by himself. Kyle heard commotion in the outer room – telephones ringing incessantly, loud voices passing back and forth, doors opening and shutting. If Norm was gone and Willis was an uninvited agent, Kyle wondered who was in control and if anything was really being accomplished. He worried that Willis had the authority to take charge and run things his way.
Soon all the voices went quiet and Kyle heard a radio or TV turned loud, but he couldn’t make out the words. He went to the door and quietly turned the knob. They hadn’t locked it. He slowly opened the door, just a bit, and peeked through. Everyone was huddled around a television, but Kyle couldn't see the screen, only the backs of FBI agents – the bright yellow FBI letters stenciled across their blue jackets. He could now make out the words. It was a late breaking report on the killing of Charles Duncan and a conspiracy involving unknown individuals at high levels of the federal government. Kyle was stunned the report had hit the air so suddenly. He had anticipated it would be a lead story for the evening edition, but the regular television schedule was preempted to air the news.
Something caught his ear and he almost gasped at the sound of his own voice coming from the TV. The news station was airing the tape, either the one the Press recorded of the video footage coming from the monitor or perhaps Robert had the time and foresight to provide copies of the tape he made. Willis’ voice was in the mix as well. He figured they were playing video excerpts because the reporter returned with his own commentary on the story. Someone clicked to another channel, the same report was being aired, this time by a young female anchor. The phones had quieted briefly, but after a few minutes they began ringing with new life, much worse than before. Kyle could also hear even more noises outside the building.
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