Dark Trojan (The Adam Drake series Book 3)

by Scott Matthews

  “When we find her, who has jurisdiction to arrest her?

  “Depends on where we find her,” Strobel said. “If it’s here in California, it’ll be local law enforcement. If we have evidence terrorism is involved, then it moves to the federal level. And that’s another reason I’m here. Senator Hazelton asked me to brief you on the intelligence we have concerning Iran.”

  As the waitress reappeared to take their orders, they both quickly scanned their menus. Strobel ordered almond granola with blue berries, skim milk, a bagel, and coffee. Drake ordered a bacon avocado omelet, toast, and coffee.

  Before their food arrived, Strobel summarized what she knew.

  “Iran is pouring a lot of money into cyber warfare with help from Russia. They deny it, but the evidence is clear that the cyber attacks on our biggest banks were Iranian-sponsored. The attacks on several of the Persian oil and gas companies last year were traced to hackers inside Iran. A source inside Iran is saying there’s a rumor that the next attack will be made on our energy grid and that it will be blamed on someone else. But the only two players in this cyber war game with the sophistication to mount an attack like that are China and Russia. We don’t think they’re stupid enough to hit our energy grid, though, because it would mean war.”

  The waitress arrived with their plates. Drake immediately took a bite of his toast and sat back in his chair while the waitress refilled his coffee cup.

  “So what does a rumor circulating in Iran have to do with Energy Integrated Solutions?” he asked after she’d left again.

  Strobel picked up her fork. “When Bill Bradford was in Washington to finalize the DAARPA grant for his energy grid security software, he met with your father-in-law. They had met before, at a conference about modernizing the energy grid, the Smart Grid project. Bradford said his company had been experiencing a somewhat clumsy phishing attack, something you might expect from a bunch of inexperienced hackers. The phishing continued, he said, and then started getting more sophisticated. This was about the time we learned that Russia was helping Iran with its cyber warfare unit. Senator Hazelton mentioned Bradford’s concerns to Secretary Rallings, his old friend, as you know, and my boss. They thought it was something that might be related.”

  Drake nodded. “Bradford says that his systems haven’t been penetrated, that none of the phishing was successful. I met with his security analyst. He said the same thing. But if nothing got through and nothing was stolen or infected with a worm from Iran, why send me to EIS?”

  “As I understand it,” Strobel said as she worked on her granola, “Bradford called your father-in-law and asked if he was obligated to report the phishing attacks to the SEC when they weren’t successful. Bradford’s corporate counsel thought they should, but Bradford wanted another opinion. Secretary Rallings and Senator Hazelton thought they’d kill two birds with one stone by sending you in on the SEC question. You would also make sure cyber terrorism wasn’t somehow involved. You sniffed out the assassination plot to kill the Secretary, so they both respect your ability to connect the dots.”

  Drake’s cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his blazer, and when he took it out, he saw that he had a text message from Larry Green. Mike Casey wanted to see him.

  “Would you like to come with me to the hospital and say hello to Mike?” he asked as he signaled to the waitress for their check. “He wants to see me. I know he’d like to see you.”

  “I’d love to see Mike,” she said. “Since I invited myself to breakfast, will you allow me to pay for it.”

  “This one’s mine, but thanks for offering.”

  “Well, then, will you let me buy you dinner? I’ve offered several times, you know, if you were going to be in Washington. Since you haven’t taken me up on my offers, let me take you to dinner here.”

  Drake accepted the invitation. As they walked across the room, he could see that she was being followed by every pair of male eyes in the place. He hadn’t been to dinner with a woman since his wife died. Now he discovered that he was looking forward to the evening.

  Chapter 38

  They found Casey sitting up in his bed intently staring at something on a laptop. An empty cafeteria food tray sat on the rolling bedside table that Megan had pushed aside so she could pull her chair up close enough to see the laptop screen. Larry Green was looking at it, too, from the other side of the bed.

  When Casey looked up and saw Liz Strobel, he smiled and introduced her to his wife. “Megan, Liz was with us in Oregon when Adam was injured.”

  If Phil Casey hadn’t told Drake about the spat his brother and his wife had had over Mike’s doing field work at his request the month before, Drake might not have noticed the slight squint of Megan Casey’s eyes as she stood up and shook hands with Strobel. He’d have to be careful, he reminded himself, when Megan Casey was around and the topic of conversation turned to the adventures he’d been having lately with Mike at his side. Although the poisoning wasn’t something that could be directly blamed on him, he had no doubt that that wasn’t the way Megan Casey was seeing it.

  Liz Strobel also noticed the somewhat chilly welcome she got from Megan Casey. She stayed at the foot of the bed as she asked Mike how he was feeling.

  “I’m fine,” he said, sounding less hoarse than he had the day before. “My throat’s a little sore when I eat, and you know how I like to eat.” He paused for the obligatory laughter. “But the food here will kill you quicker than a poison dart tipped with curare,” he joked.

  As soon as he saw the tight smile on his wife’s face, he quickly added, “Larry brought over the security video from the front desk at the Marriott. I think I’ve found the woman who poisoned me. You only see her once briefly when she checks in, and you don’t a great look at her face, but I’m pretty sure this is her.” He turned the laptop around and pointed to a tall, beautiful woman standing at the counter. “Larry’s called the Marriott,” he added, “and asked them to identify the woman who checked in at this precise time two nights ago. We’re waiting for the day manager to call us back.”

  Liz Strobel leaned down to get a closer look at the mystery woman. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait that long. That’s the same woman our facial recognition program identified when we matched the images of her coming down the hallway from Adam’s room with video of her walking through the Heathrow airport in London. Her name is Daniela Dekker.”

  “Who is Daniela Dekker?” Megan Casey asked.

  “She is a Brazilian model who sidelines as an assassin,” Strobel said. “When we told Interpol why we were asking for security camera video, and we matched our woman here with Daniela Dekker in London, they lined up her travel stops in Europe with several unsolved murders Interpol thinks she might be responsible for.”

  Before anyone could say anything, Larry Green’s cell phone buzzed and he stepped out into the hall to take the call.

  Megan Casey turned to Drake. “Adam, why was she trying to get into your room? Is this someone you know?”

  Drake held up his hands to slow down her obvious train of thought. “I have no idea who she is or why she was trying to get into my room. That’s what we’re trying to find out. Look, I’m sorry Mike got hurt. I’ll take all the blame for that.”

  “Megan,” Casey croaked, “it’s really not Adam’s fault. I should have seen what she was up to before I got so close.”

  Larry Green came back into the room and interrupted the mea culpas. “The Marriott says the woman Mike recognized didn’t register as Daniela Dekker. She checked in as Adriana Hermann.”

  Drake turned to Strobel and said, “Could you see if Interpol can connect Dekker and Hermann to the murders they think one or the other of these women committed? One of the names is obviously an alias, so we have to chase them both. Also, see if Dekker’s agent knows whether Dekker is her modeling name. Models often use stage names, like actors, authors, and musicians do.”


  Strobel nodded and left the room to call her Interpol contact and pass along the information.

  “Mike,” Drake said, “did the doctor tell you how long she wanted to keep you here?”

  Megan Casey answered as her husband groaned. “She wants him to stay until the numbness in his hands and feet goes away. She thinks it’ll probably be next Monday or Tuesday.”

  “All right,” Drake said. “I’ll need to check in with Bill Bradford at EIS and let him know what’s going on. Larry, can you stick around until Mike’s discharged?”

  “Got it covered. I promised Mike I’d bring him some real food when one of our guys from L.A. spells me for a while. Maybe by the time you get back from EIS we’ll have a lead on Daniela Dekker or Adriana Hermann, or whoever she is. I’m looking forward to meeting that lady.”

  Chapter 39

  Drake drove to the EIS offices in Hunter’s Point and arrived in time to catch Bill Bradford before he left for lunch. When they were alone in Bradford’s office, Drake brought him up to speed on the events of the last day and a half.

  “When I asked a friend of mine at DHS to help me identify the woman who poisoned Mike, I learned that your SEC problem wasn’t the only reason I was asked to come see you. Were you aware there’s new intelligence about an Iranian attack on our energy grid?”

  “I wasn’t told about any new intelligence,” Bradford said, “but that kind of attack is why we were given a grant to develop software to prevent just such a massive blackout. When our software is installed next week in all of the major utilities around the country, we’ll be protected from anything Iran or anyone else can throw at us.”

  “Bill, the detective handling the investigation of your manger’s death last week thinks his murder, the drive-by shooting I was involved with, and my friend’s poisoning are all connected somehow. Do you have any idea how that could happen?”

  Bradford thought for a moment, then shook his head. “The only connection I can see is you. Nick Kawasaki was killed before you arrived, but the other two events directly involved you. I certainly don’t see any connection to me or my company.”

  “Frankly, “Drake said, “I don’t either, and that’s what bothers me. Maybe when we catch up with my friend’s attacker, we’ll find the connection. So your work on the DAARPA grant is finished. Congratulations.”

  “We’ll still be involved in a support role with the utilities,” Bradford said, “but, yes, we finished our testing of the software this week. The other teams are working on a variety of projects to make the energy grid more digital. And more efficient.”

  Drake stood up. “Well, I better get back to the hospital. I’m afraid I didn’t help you with much, but it was a pleasure working with you.”

  Bradford stood and shook hands with Drake. “You allowed me to override my attorney and do what I wanted to do on the SEC reporting. Don’t minimize that. Let me walk you out.”

  When they reached the reception area, Bradford asked, “How much longer do you think you’ll be in San Francisco?”

  “Mike should be released next Monday, so I’ll head back to Oregon then.”

  “Keep driving the Audi until then if you want,” Bradford told him. “Drop it off on your way to the airport when you leave, and good luck with your friend. I hope you find whoever’s responsible for poisoning him.”

  “Thanks, Bill. We’ll find her,” Drake promised. As he headed to the elevator, he looked back and saw Bradford talking with the young man who had replaced the manager that had been murdered.

  ~

  Saleem Canaan had overheard enough of the conversation between Bradford and Drake to know that Adriana Hermann had to be killed soon, before she was found in Los Angeles. He also knew that terminating his employment at EIS had to happen now.

  “Mr. Bradford,” he said, “could I have a word with you in your office?”

  “Sure, Tony. I’m leaving for a luncheon engagement in a bit, but I have some time before then.”

  When they were both seated in Bradford’s office, the CEO said “What’s on your mind?”

  “I appreciate the opportunity you gave me to work here,” Canaan said, “but I’m going to go back to work for Ra Solar if they’ll have me. You have a great company, but I miss working there. Solar power is the future, and that’s where I want to make a contribution.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Tony. You’ve been a great addition to our team. But if your passion is solar power, then that’s where you need to be. How soon do you plan on leaving?”

  “Sir, my work on the electric utility software is finished. I thought I’d leave today, rather than start on a new project.”

  “So soon? Well, then, I’ll let HR know to prepare your severance pay. If you need me to put in a good word for you at Ra Solar, let me know,” Bradford said as he stood up to dismiss the young man. “Good luck. I hope you’ll be happy there.”

  Saleem Canaan left to clean out his cubicle with a smile on his face. With the money he had earned at EIS and the money Ryan Walker was paying him, he now had a tidy sum to put away for a rainy day. On top of that, after he cleaned out his condo, there were three people he got to kill, starting with the woman Walker thought he couldn’t handle.

  Chapter 40

  When Drake stopped by the hospital to check on Casey, he found him finishing a double cheeseburger and chocolate shake Larry Green had smuggled in from the closest In-N-Out. Megan Casey was still giving off cool vibes to him and Larry Green said Liz Strobel had returned to her hotel, so Drake returned to his room at the Marriott. A few miles on a treadmill and some free weights in the hotel’s fitness center, followed by a trip to the steam room would give him time to sift through everything that had happened since he arrived in San Francisco. He’d also have time to think about dinner with Ms. Strobel that evening.

  After a quick change into a pair of gym shorts, T-shirt and running shoes, he took the elevator down to the fitness center. Settling into an easy six-minute mile pace to warm up, Drake let his mind drift while he watched ESPN on the personal TV monitor on his treadmill. Baseball season was over, college football was in its second full month of games, and the news channels had talking heads talking about how Congress was still unable to do its job and pass a budget. The president blamed the Congress and the Congress blamed him for his lack of leadership. And Iran continued to threaten Israel with annihilation if anyone messed with its peaceful nuclear energy program. He switched to a soft rock channel and vowed to get rid of his television when he got home and watch sports in a sports bar, where adult beverages could help him forget the problems of the world.

  If Iran was planning a cyber attack on America’s energy grid, what did it hope to gain? Several senators had already proclaimed that such an attack was an act of war and would be swiftly punished. The administration was less bellicose, trying to keep its Middle East peace initiative alive, but Iran couldn’t be foolish enough to think it could get away with it. The intelligence about a forthcoming attack didn’t make any sense.

  Drake slowed his pace to a jog for five minutes after his run. He then moved to the free weights and started through his set of reps for the workout he used when he was traveling. After his workout, he grabbed one of the hotel’s white terry cloth robes and walked to the empty steam room to relax.

  Sitting on the upper bench, he let his thoughts return to the attack on Casey. Unless the woman had been so taken by his handsome looks and just wanted to slip in bed with him, she had been there to slip some curare into his blood stream and paralyze him. But why? Clearly the latter was the most likely scenario, but, again, why? His review of the EIS responsibility to report on the company’s well-being on Form 10-K wasn’t a threat to anyone. It went along with the CEO’s position on the matter. No feathers were ruffled with his recommendation. The unsuccessful phishing attacks the company had experienced didn’t amount to anything…if he believed what the
company’s security analyst told him, and he had no reason to doubt the man’s word.

  That left him with the possibility that he was the reason for the mayhem since his arrival. But it still didn’t explain the murder of the EIS manager the day before he got there.

  Starting to get a headache trying to figure out what was going on, Drake slipped down to the lower bench, rested his arms on the upper bench, stretched his legs out, and began thinking about his dinner date that night with Liz Strobel. Why did he think of it as a date, he wondered. They were professionals working together. Neither of them was looking for romance. She had invited him twice to dinner in Washington, but these had been courtesy invitations so he could meet her staff. Why did he feel so uncomfortable, then, at the prospect of having dinner with her?

  He closed his eyes. In his heart, he knew the reason, and it felt like he was betraying his dead wife. In the last week of her life, Kay had made him promise that he would move on and find someone else to love him. She had been insistent that he not live alone for the rest of his life, that he deserved to be happy. He hadn’t agreed with her, because he didn’t mind being alone, but he had in fact promised he would try to move on. Whatever that meant.

  He also knew that he had been wrong. He had quickly found that he hated being alone. Without Kay’s companionship, he had lost his focus, all but destroyed his law practice, and had been well on the way to becoming a certified drunk. Fortunately, his father-in-law had thrown him a lifeline. A constituent’s secretary had been murdered and Drake had been asked to help the man deal with the murder investigation and the press. That referral, meant to steer a good client his way and help to drag him out of his depression, had involved him in an assassination plot and brought him back to the commitment he had made the day after 9/11, when he had enlisted in the army. He had vowed to fight an ignoble enemy who loved death beyond all reason and loved killing innocent people.