Oracle’s Hunt
Book One in the Oracle Series
A. Claire Everward
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Copyright © 2017 A. Claire Everward
The right of A. Claire Everward to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations, institutions, agencies or any other such entities, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Author & Sister
www.authorandsister.net
eBook ISBN 978-965-92584-1-3
Print ISBN 978-965-92584-0-6
Cover design by Damonza
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This one I wanted
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter One
The fire was scorching hot even this far away and even though it had started in the underground level of the low building, where it was still raging with unrelenting ferocity. Someone had wanted to make sure there would be no evidence, United States Federal Investigative Division Agent Donovan Pierce thought, contemplating the scene before him. Still, this wouldn’t stop him. He’d worked with less in the past. He would find something, he always did. And this particular incident would warrant all kinds of resources. Unlimited, in fact. No one would take the destruction of the data storage facility for the major defense and security agencies worldwide lightly. After all, he was here, wasn’t he? They didn’t call him in unless a high-profile incident was involved.
He watched the firefighters try to approach the flames again. And fail, again. The order was given, and the robotic firecraft moved in through the dark sky above, hovered high over the blaze and sprayed down high-expansion fire-suppressing foam, which, sensing the heat of the fire below, hardened to create a shell that suffocated the flames within moments. A good thing, in theory. Except that the reason the firefighters had attempted to avoid using it in the first place was that it would be hell to work with later. Digging through it would take time and effort, and Donovan wondered how much of the already scant evidence he had hoped to find would be destroyed by the foam itself.
From the corner of his eye, he saw his techs prepare their equipment. He turned to watch them working efficiently under the artificial peripheral lights that would be their only visual support on this heavily clouded night. The medical examiner’s van stood beside them, and nearby the rest of his lead investigative team stood watching the crime scene with interest, talking among themselves. Other than them and the firefighters, no one else was here. The data center’s backup security teams—and Donovan was still wondering how whoever had destroyed the place had managed to do this without their being alerted in time—had hermetically closed the area, and his people would not be disturbed. Not even representatives of the agencies that had a stake in this data center were here. At this point, he was given priority.
His eyes narrowed. This would be an interesting one. And there would be pressure, lots of it, from above. But then with his investigations there always was.
An official-looking sedan came to a halt beside the medical examiner’s van. Donovan frowned when his boss got out of the car and looked at the scene with nothing short of horror. It had been a long time since he’d seen USFID director Leland White at the site of an investigation.
A lot of pressure indeed.
The sun had already broken through the clouds when his people were finally cleared to go to work, and it had begun to set again before they could move freely inside the building, or what was left of it. Nothing survived inside, it was all destroyed beyond recognition. Even the heart of the place, large enclosures especially designed to protect the data storage units within them, was almost entirely gone. And these enclosures were made of composite materials used for space and military applications, tested and retested to withstand extreme conditions. This wasn’t a regular fire, Donovan thought as he absently stroked the twisted protective coating of the exterior walls with a gloved hand. It was potent enough to deliberately destroy materials meant not to be destroyed.
The way things were looking, there wouldn’t be much evidence here, just as he’d expected. Already his techs informed him that the damage was too widespread, obviously intentionally so, to pinpoint exactly which data storage unit the perpetrators had been interested in. Which meant that whoever did this had wanted to make sure no one would be able to figure out what data they might have been after, not even from what agency.
Donovan frowned and scrutinized the destruction around him. Something, he needed something to get the ball rolling. Maybe the security footage he had already requested from the USOMP, the federal office in charge of maintaining and protecting this highly confidential data here in the United States, would shed some light on what happened. Apparently there had been very little human-based security on site, nothing remotely enough to stop whoever did this, as the bodies already being autopsied by USFID’s medical examiner attested to. The data center, he had learned so far, was fully automated and was supervised from a designated monitoring station at the USOMP building not too far from here, in Washington, DC.
According to the supervisor there, the first sign of trouble had been that the security signal, including all its camera and sensor subcarriers, stopped abruptly. Which took everyone by surprise since the security system was supposed to be infallible and the signal could not malfunction, nor could it be cut or jammed, for the simple reason that no one was supposed to be able to track and lock on to it in the first place. Except that one of the three certainly seemed to have happened. The security guards on site could not be contacted, and by the time the backup security teams got there, the data center was already in flames and the perpetrators were gone. Which raised the next question—how could whoever did this get in, take what they wanted, and cause such widespread damage so quickly?
Funny thing was, his break in this investigation just might come from an oversight by the USOMP itself in setting up the security for this place, something it took some prodding by Donovan until the supervisor at the USOMP finally realized. Apparently the security system was replaced a little more than a year earlier, and a part of the old system, a number of cameras in the corners of the underground data storage level’s ceiling, wasn’t removed because of time constraints and because it didn’t interfere with the new system. Even when the new system was upgraded, just a few months later, the old cameras remained where they were, always active. An added security measure, if superfluous, the su
pervisor had said, one that they had stopped watching since the new security system’s visual components were so much more advanced.
Except, not so superfluous after all, as it turned out. Whoever had broken into the data center didn’t know that these older cameras were still active and sending data to the USOMP mainframe, and so their signal, which was not the same as the new system’s security signal, was apparently not targeted and remained undisturbed until the full force of the explosion hit. Which meant that at least some of them might have been operating when the break-in was still in progress.
Just then, Ben Lawson, one of his investigators, approached him with a small screen. “Sir, we just got that output from the USOMP. Not much, just one camera, but it might give us something.”
Donovan took the screen from him and ran the footage, his people squinting at it around him. The video was a little jumpy, but it was clear enough. It showed two figures entering from the data storage level’s only door just under the camera, both clad from head to toe in one-piece body suits. Their faces were completely covered, other than the eyes that had reflective covers over them, preventing recognition. Donovan watched intently while they moved in, certain, it seemed, that they were not being watched. One proceeded to take small devices from a bag he was holding and to place a device on top of each of the enclosures that held data storage units in them, each of which was assigned to a different agency—whatever these devices were, Donovan didn’t have to look again at the ruins around him to know that none of them had survived the initial explosion. The fully-clad figure then walked beyond camera range, back in the direction both figures had originally entered from.
At the same time, the second figure walked without hesitation up to a specific unit, connected a small screen to one of the connection points in the composite grid protecting it, and proceeded to watch the series of frames that appeared in sequence on the screen. A preprogrammed hacking medium, Donovan wagered. Seconds later data began to run on the screen, and several moments after that small, scattered flashes appeared in it. Exactly two minutes after the video began, the figure disconnected the screen and followed the other perpetrator out. Forty-five seconds later the place erupted in a blinding flare and the footage was cut off.
“How do I go back in this? I want to see the screen that person’s holding up close,” Donovan said, and one of his techs adjusted the footage and replayed it. It zoomed in at a higher contrast, and Donovan could now see the data that the perpetrator had apparently downloaded, but it was all encrypted, so that nothing was intelligible. And then those flashes began to appear. Donovan touched the screen and slowed down the footage, and saw that each small flash was data being automatically deciphered, to show a word. It was only one word, always the same word that lit up whenever it appeared, one word that was the target of those who had made such an effort to procure this information, destroying everything on the way.
Just one word.
Oracle.
Chapter Two
“Damn,” someone behind her grumbled in frustration. “Damn it, we’re going to lose them.”
Lara heard him, but disregarded both the words and the sentiment behind them, not allowing either to affect her. No, they won’t be lost. Not today.
“Stand by,” she said into the nearly invisible microphone of her headset. On the screen to the left, Captain Alexander Carr nodded once and remained quiet.
The silence in International Diplomacy, Security and Defense’s dark Mission Command was increasingly deafening as the minutes ticked by. The officer who had moments earlier expressed his frustration shifted uneasily, prodding the security agent beside him to put a hand on his arm, not to calm but to silence him.
Oracle was working.
The eyes of the woman behind it never left the satellite, drone and ground feeds that raced in split views on the wall screen that stretched to both her sides. Oracle missed nothing and analyzed everything, filling the gaps where there were any, and there were. For anyone else, it would be impossible to deduce from the flow of information anything useful enough to act efficiently under the circumstances.
Not for Oracle.
Breaking her silence, Lara spoke quietly into the headset mic. Her words were carried through individual earpieces to the military and civilian men and women seated behind her, where they would not disturb the mission.
“Move,” was the only order Oracle relayed. In the center view, the satellite registered movement that was enhanced through real-time footage from the helmet cams of the soldiers on the ground, displayed in smaller views around the main satellite and drone views Lara had before her. It was how Oracle itself organized the split screen and chose the views, communicating changes and enhancements directly to the IDSD Missions mainframe. The system operators seated on both ends of the screen were ready to provide backup at all times, but until their assistance was called for, they would remain idle, staying out of the way.
Once Oracle stepped in, no one else interfered.
On the screen, the small troop moved according to Oracle’s precise guidance, carrying its injured. In a fine dance of life and death, every step they took, covert and hushed, brought them dangerously close to their pursuers, who swarmed the area around them like angry wasps. Yet it did so at just the right timing, the right vector, for those Oracle was there to guide to stay out of the pursuers’ reach.
The silence in Mission Command was tense, the only sound Oracle’s occasional order, uttered quietly, succinctly, with confidence. Even as distance began to open between soldiers and pursuers, the silence held. Not until Oracle issued the command that had two stealth vertical takeoff and landing transports uncloak and drop to the ground to pick up the soldiers, then swoop back up, leaving their angry pursuers behind shouting and waving their weapons, did the cheers erupt behind Lara.
But not her, not yet. Only when the transports landed safely on the aircraft carrier, and Captain Carr confirmed that the soldiers were safe on board and that the casualties were in good shape and there were no fatalities, only then did Oracle power down, and Lara took off her headset and stepped back, let out a long breath, and shifted her focus back here, now.
She turned around. She never really knew what was going on around her when she did her job. Unless someone disturbed her, but that was, without fail, immediately dealt with by the IDSD security agents stationed in here precisely for this purpose. Looking around her now she saw the relief, heard the congratulatory exchange, but her own thoughts were still with the men whose safety she had just secured.
She turned back when Vice Admiral Francis A. Scholes, her direct boss, came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Rare save. Good work, Lara,” he said.
Lara acknowledged the compliment with a nod and allowed him to lead her to the door of Mission Command, everyone stopping to look, regarding her with respect, awe at times, even those who had seen her do this many times before. There were murmurs of congratulations, but she didn’t heed these, never did. The soldiers she had just pulled away from the edge, they were the ones who should be congratulated, they were the ones who had held on, faced the real danger and survived, not her. Not even Oracle.
When they exited to the bright light of IDSD Missions’ vast war room, she squinted, rubbed her tired eyes, and forced herself to focus. Before them stood an anxious Aiden, her aide, and Celia, the vice admiral’s aide.
“Sir, ma’am.” Celia spoke with some urgency. “Admiral Helios is in your office, sir. He’s waiting for you, for both of you.”
“Now?” Scholes said with evident surprise and a slight furrow of his brow. He would be concerned about her, Lara knew. Always was after missions, especially those such as this last one that had come her way unexpectedly, demanding her attention, near misses that didn’t end up as such only because Oracle intervened at the last moment, but that consequently required every resource it had.
Still, even as he spoke, Scholes guided her toward his office, Celia and Aiden
in tow. As the head of IDSD in the United States, Admiral James Helios would be well aware of what was going on up here, and if he asked to see Lara now—more than that, if he took the trouble to come here from his own office at the IDSD Diplomacy building—there had to be a good reason.
Admiral Helios acknowledged them with a nod, his expression somber, and gestured for both aides to remain outside and close the door. In the office with him were two other men. One was Carl Ericsson, head of IDSD Security, and the other, a distinguished- looking man with graying hair and scrutinizing eyes, was introduced to Lara and Scholes as Paul Evans, the incoming director of the US Global Intelligence Agency.
“Director,” Helios said, “I’d like you to meet my second-in-command and the head of IDSD Missions, Vice Admiral Frank Scholes, and this”—he turned to the woman who was the reason for this impromptu meeting—“is Lara Holsworth.”
Evans looked at Lara with unveiled curiosity and extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Ms. Holsworth,” he said, and repeated with a nod, “Lara,” when she corrected him.
Helios dived right in, focusing his attention on Lara and Scholes. “Last night, the alliance’s US-based data center was broken into and destroyed. The only data storage unit targeted was IDSD’s.”
Scholes turned to Evans, who filled them in. He then looked at Ericsson. “We on this?”
“As assisting only.”
Scholes was about to protest when Evans intervened. “All agencies with a stake in the data center would only be assisting here, Admiral. I’ve got USFID investigating this, specifically SIRT, their unit that handles major investigations at this level, and its agent in charge, Donovan Pierce. He’s the best. I’ve worked with him in the past.”
Scholes turned to Helios, a frown on his face. He wasn’t convinced. It was the IDSD unit that was the target, and yet they weren’t the ones leading the investigation. And as if that wasn’t enough, they were letting US Global Intelligence, the agency in charge of the USOMP that had been tasked with keeping the data center safe and yet allowed its destruction to happen in the first place, call the shots. “Jim? What’s going on?”
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