“People are suddenly showing an interest in this situation—and at higher levels than I would ever have expected.” Robert told him. “I think we have less time to investigate than I originally thought. What did you find out?”
The waitress delivered Robert’s beer, and Grady ordered an amber ale. He watched her walk away, appreciating the view before turning back to face Robert.
A new customer walked in and sat at the bar, facing the television. He took no notice of the waitress. His right hand, tucked under his left arm, held a black rod about 5 inches long. It looked like a pen, but it contained a directional microphone. An earpiece, resembling a Bluetooth headset, allowed the man to listen while simultaneously recording Robert and Grady.
“I’m glad I haven’t wasted my time, then. I have a team working on it.” Grady was saying.
“Who?” Robert asked directly. He was tired of vague answers.
“Crypto.” Grady answered cautiously, eyeing Robert. He was now the one being cautious, since he didn’t like talking about the Crypto team in public.
“Crypto...?” Robert interrogated. He needed solid answers.
Grady leaned closer and lowered his voice casually. “Cryptography. Codes and ciphers, and the guys who make and break them. They were probably more interested in trying to break through the NSA’s security than in helping me, but who cares? They’ve already determined that the fastest way to infiltrate the system would be to have somebody on the inside, or to control someone there. That person would have to find a weak spot in the system. They’re looking into it further, but the most obvious weak spot is in the software on the Internet side at one of the summing points. It may even be at the main collection point at the NSA itself. In any case, all those systems are designed by the NSA, so that’s the place to start.”
The conversation abruptly stopped as the girl delivered Grady’s ale. The cut of her dress showed off her cleavage as she leaned over. She knew how to draw looks and tips. She set down a bowl of bar munchies with the drinks.
“Would you gentlemen like anything else?” She smiled nicely right at Grady as she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder.
“No, we’re good. Thanks.” Grady returned her smile, managing to keep his eyes on hers.
“Let me know if you need anything. My name is Shannon.” With a smile, again directed at Grady, she turned and walked away.
There was a pause as the two men took a drink of their cold beers, and let their testosterone surges dissipate.
“Now, that’s a problem.” Robert commented into his beer.
“The girl? It’s the uniform. It won’t happen again.” Grady joked.
“No; the NSA.” Robert said with some frustration.
“The NSA? Why?” Grady said, picking up his beer and draining half of it.
“If it’s the NSA, or someone in the NSA, it’s a problem.” Robert answered. “They have their own internal controls. They don’t like people coming in and meddling. Even if we find some definite link they won’t make it easy to resolve the problem, because we will already have trespassed on their turf. Not only is it adversarial, it’s also not in the spirit of working on this project together. And, if we’re right, and it’s someone inside, they look incompetent.”
“And I can understand it,” Robert continued. “If they, the CIA, FBI, or for that matter, the Pentagon allowed interference, they’d never get anything done. They’d be addressing everyone’s concerns and investigations all the time. Their security would be compromised constantly. But it does make our job more complicated. If I try to investigate with, or without their help, I’ll be warning whoever’s behind this just by showing up.”
“I don’t know about that,” Grady said after a minute or two of thinking about the problem. “Most people don’t really see you guys as investigators or cops. Your department seems very administrative. Lots of lawyer talk and paperwork hassles.”
“You might be right about that, Grady,” Robert said, “but they’ll sense some kind of problem’s coming if I approach them.” He sighed, and took a drink before continuing. “Even if your Crypto people figure out how someone could do this, we’ve still got to find the person or people behind it. I don’t know if you can nail down anybody’s specific job in the NSA to the ‘how.’ They undoubtedly have multiple people checking each other. And I certainly couldn’t spot someone doing whatever it is by looking over reports, or job titles, and functions. I doubt anything would stick out that obviously. If we approach the NSA, no matter how diplomatically we try to pursue it, we’ll be putting them on alert. Everyone will be cleaning up their section.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts.
“Damn it, Grady!” Robert swore in frustration, curling his hand into a fist, and softly hitting the table. “The truth is that I don’t even have a crime, yet. Just speculation that a crime is being committed—but there’s too much interest in what I’m doing to call this ‘a possibility’ at this point. So much for jurisdictional power! Nobody has done anything that I know about or can prove, but now I’m expected to find a crime. The Attorney General’s office isn’t like that movie, ‘Minority Report,’ for God’s sake. We can’t foretell the future, and I can’t stop crime before it happens if I don’t know what I’m looking for.” Robert tried to smile at his own joke. It was a good smile, but not charismatic like Grady’s.
Grady frowned. He hadn’t seen the movie, so Robert’s attempt at humor was lost on him. “Robert, I’m sure that’s a good reference, but not one I know. Look, I thought you had an informant, or some evidence. You seemed to think some crisis was at hand.”
“I do have an informant,” Robert told him, “but the evidence is forthcoming. The contact seems credible, and I’ve had some outside conversations today that seem to confirm what I’ve been told. But until I get the proof, we’re still talking theory and speculation here.” Robert continued, trying to shake off his frustration. “We have to establish probable cause, and have an investigative team assigned. This investigation is going to have to become ‘official,’ or we’re going to get nowhere. Another problem I’ve got is that right now all I have is a request to insure that couldn’t happen, but I’m going to have to find a way around that.”
Grady shook his head, mystified. “Don’t you have anything concrete? Is this person reliable?”
“I don’t have anything, yet, other than a lot of big problems.” Robert answered, shaking his head. “But I’ve known this guy for a long time. I didn’t believe what he was telling me—now I wish I’d taken him a lot more seriously when he first mentioned it. And, in the continuing theme of one complication appearing after another, I haven’t heard from him since Friday morning.”
“Robert, who is the informant? Look, you’re telling me that you’ve got reason to believe this thing is happening, but it seems to hinge on getting one guy’s evidence. Does it make sense for everything to hang on one person?” Grady asked keeping his gaze steady on Robert’s eyes.
Robert hesitated. Grady was right. What if Chris never came through with his documentation? Maybe Robert needed to talk about his with someone he could trust, and certainly the only person that fit that bill right now was Grady.
Grady pushed. “Well?”
“You have to keep this confidential.” Robert insisted.
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Grady frowned. “Robert, I don’t go in and ask the Crypto guys to help me dig into the NSA every day. I’ve been taking this seriously. You should recognize that I understand the meaning of ‘confidentiality.’”
Robert paused again before speaking. “It’s Chris Stoker.” He still wasn’t sure he should be telling Grady. Legally, he’d just made Grady as responsible as he was if this thing didn’t go well. Now he was going to implicate Grady even more. “He’s a software guy at the NSA. We went to school together.”
“Well, that changes things.” Grady shook his head. “You can’t go into the NSA holding hands with one of them. His job would be gone, and Homel
and Security would jump in big time. Now you really need to have more than a hunch before you talk to the NSA. If his evidence isn’t rock solid you’re screwed.” Grady knew that once a whistle blower was involved, all bets were off. The agencies would descend on the issue like flies, coming in from every direction.
“I can talk to the NSA.” Robert said. “That’s not the problem. What I need is something significant to talk about. Obviously I can’t mention Stoker, or even hint that I know him.” Robert sighed. “How long before your crypto team might have something?”
“A week. They wanted a month, but I think they were padding the time.” Grady answered. “What makes you think somebody won’t make the connection between you and Chris? Those guys connect dots for a living.” Grady took a drink of his beer. “Robert, I doubt that my guys will come up with anything that points to any one person actually manipulating the system. That leaves you with your guy’s evidence.” Grady was losing his enthusiasm. He felt he’d been sent on a wild goose chase. “I have to tell you, this doesn’t sound good.”
Robert wanted to reassure Grady. He knew he was going to need him to get a viable idea of how the control would be possible. “I’ll get the hard evidence, Grady. It could be that Chris has had a problem removing it, but I know he’s determined to get it to me. I’m sure whatever it is will give us a better picture of where, and who our problems are. In the meantime, we absolutely need to find out how OPOV could be manipulated. I had hoped our controls were tight enough to prevent that from happening, but after some of the calls I’ve had today, I’m not so sure.”
“So, that’s it.” Grady eyed Robert ponderingly.
Robert swallowed most of the contents of his glass before answering. “Believe me, Grady, I wish I had more. My career may be hanging in the balance on this, good or bad.”
“How high does this go?” Grady asked.
“Too high. And that doesn’t make much sense, either. I just barely found out about it from Chris, so is it a coincidence that suddenly people who shouldn’t, know something’s up? Obviously there is more going on here. And I can’t shake the feeling I’ve been followed twice since I met with Chris.”
“Followed?” Grady seemed startled.
“Twice, maybe more.” Robert reiterated. “It sounds ridiculous, I know. I’ve found myself circling the block a couple of times since this started.” Robert shrugged, and ran his hand over his head. He felt like an idiot for saying any of this out loud. He couldn’t look directly at Grady.
“Hey, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.” Grady smiled, but there was a little crease between his eyebrows. “Maybe we need another beer.” Grady offered.
“Next time.” Robert shook his head. “I need to get to my computer. I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll keep pushing on the guys. You’ll let me know when your friend delivers, right?” Grady asked.
“Grady, I’ve told you more than I should have about this thing, but I guess I owe you whatever explanations come out.” Robert said.
They finished their drinks and left. Neither noticed the man at the bar leave just before they did. He tapped out a few commands on his phone, transferring the recording from his directional microphone pen as he headed for the main entrance.
Robert checked his mirror a few times as he drove out of the parking lot. He saw nothing except the overcast sky, which was getting darker fast.
Grady didn’t notice as the brown sedan pulled out of the parking lot behind him. It soon fell back behind several cars.
Chapter 21
Robert decided to vary his habitual route home. Coming from the hotel changed his drive, but that wasn’t the only reason he took a different course. He was definitely feeling as though someone was watching him. Voicing his suspicions to Grady made the feeling stronger. He looked in the rearview mirror more often, noticed the drivers in cars next to him, and left the distracting radio news off. The feeling got more intense. Twice he detoured, hoping to expose a car that might be behind him, while at the same time trying to rationalize his concern as paranoia rather than reality. He made a circuitous trip through narrow, older roads lined with forests. He might have enjoyed it another day, but right now his stomach was too tight.
The Virginia roads meandered like the cow paths they originally followed through the thick woods. Trees crowded the shoulder, closing in around him. Robert maneuvered around several sharp turns, going into and out of hidden gullies and over narrow bridges. The BMW handled the turns beautifully, but Robert didn’t spend much time thinking about his car as he drove.
These roads seemed to Robert like trails through the wilderness, appearing deserted and void of humanity. It was an odd sensation, since the road was surrounded by homes hidden behind the trees. In summer, the deep green forest was calming, and had a hushed sound all its own. Warm days, and fall’s crisp, brilliant colors made Robert wish for his old convertible. During the grey season the barren trees emphasized the cold, and the evergreens took on a dull shade of green with fewer needles. The ground was a montage of fallen dead and drying foliage. Patches of white and brown dotted the landscape all winter.
Frigid air crept down his driver’s side window. Despite the BMW’s excellent heater, his left shoulder felt chilled. The bleak view seemed to fit Robert’s increasingly cheerless mood.
No cars seemed to be following him. Occasionally he had to swerve away from oncoming cars as they both hugged the center too closely. The narrowest roads had no marked centerline and Robert’s incessant mirror watching made staying on his side inconsistent, at best. By the time he pulled into his driveway Robert was ridiculously tense, and convinced that he was being foolish. He almost laughed at his own paranoia. He still carefully checked the shadowed driveway before parking his car in the garage.
He punched in his security pin as soon as he entered the house, and felt better hearing the reassuring chirp of the alarm system re-locking. Only a few lights glowed in the dim house. Tracie was saving energy with dimmers on the timers. She had one running on at least one light in every room, to confuse thieves.
“Hello? I’m home.” Robert called out. There was no answer. Tracie’s light system was working; even Robert couldn’t tell if anyone was home. He walked into his office and laid down his briefcase. Hanging his coat on the rack, he went out toward the dining room.
“Anybody home?” He called again. Coming around the corner into the dining room he saw candles flickering brightly in a candelabra. The polished platinum-edged, black china was laid out on the table, with sterling silverware and black linen napkins. There were place settings for two.
“Tracie?” He called, wondering if he’d forgotten something.
“I’m in the kitchen.” Her voice was light and happy sounding.
As he went past the table he caught the aromas of hollandaise sauce and asparagus. He could hear the water running, filling a pot. He knew a special dinner was being created. As he entered the kitchen he saw Tracie standing over the cooktop with a huge stainless steel pot. The pot filler water tap mounted to the tile backsplash above the stove was filling it with pre-heated water.
“I thought we’d celebrate.” Tracie said, turning to greet him. She looked beautiful and shapely, in all of her five-foot-five height. In fact, she looked much like the debutante he’d married. Her skillfully highlighted hair suited her, and her dainty features disguised her aggressive blue blood dorsal fin. She was a shark in sheep’s clothing. She had a nice shape, pleasing to the eye. He would have liked a little more bust to fondle, but she had the complete package, and she fit nicely when folded into his arms. He loved the way her long slim fingers would run along his back when they had one of their all too few lovemaking encounters—and they were getting fewer with every passing year.
The pot began to steam, while on the counter nearby two lobsters awaited their fate. Coming toward him, the long black negligee flowing with her motion, Tracie stretched out her arms to clasp his neck and ki
ss him. It was a nice kiss, even though the butterflies of their youth had long since fluttered away. Replacing the blend of curiosity and shyness was sensuality, and a sense of being comfortable with each other.
“The kids are staying at Alicia’s, and we have the place to ourselves.” Tracie told him. “I thought we’d have a little celebration. Would you get the wine?”
“Sure.” Robert replied, wondering what the occasion was. He ran through the calendar in his mind quickly scanning for a match between today and any important dates. He focused back on her eyes and forced his smile a little wider.
She kissed him again then released her hold to return to the stove. Robert headed toward the refrigerated wine cabinet to fetch a good Chardonnay. As he twisted in the corkscrew, he asked, “So, how was your day?”
“I got the Turkish dinner assignment!” She called out brightly.
He hadn’t forgotten a special date. She was just happy about getting the official dinner. Robert’s tension evaporated with relief, and an audible exhale.
“What did you say?” She asked.
“I said...that’s great!” Robert was feeling better, and prepared himself to be interested in her achievement.
“Can you believe it?” Tracie was, in fact, giddy with her achievement. This was a victory she could notch into her political gun grip. She sounded extremely pleased with herself.
Robert handed her a glass of wine, knowing it wouldn’t take too much encouragement to keep her spirits high. “Of course I believe it. You’re great at this! When is it?”
“The twenty-ninth of next month.” She answered. Tracie babbled for five minutes about the event. Robert didn’t hear a word. He knew there was some drivel about place settings and menus, but nothing about which he needed to make more than a few sounds of agreement. Garaurd, the ever-present, ever helpful NATO stud, was on his mind. Undoubtedly he would figure into this dinner, too. Trying to pass that situation off as unfounded jealousy wasn’t working for Robert. He tried to remind himself that she was celebrating with him, not Garaurd, and cooking a romantic meal on top of that. Surely that meant something.
One Man Two Votes (The Robert Carlton Series Book 1) Page 15