by Lynn Ames
“Fact: At Peter and Lorraine’s anniversary party last year, after several drinks, Sabastien let slip that Homeland Security had him hacking into the personal accounts of known associates of several high profile CEOs rumored to be part of a shadowy organization he would not name.”
“Fact,” Jay said. “Based on that piece of information, Peter and Lorraine did a little poking around with some of their former CIA colleagues and determined that the Commission is alive and well and resurgent, and that this Administration wants to keep a lid on that information.”
Kate stretched her legs out under the coffee table. “Fact: The four of us agreed that the best way to prevent a repeat of what happened in 1989 was to shine a light and expose the existence of the Commission.”
Jay scribbled furiously. “Fact: We also agreed that our experiences back then put us in the best position to tell the story, and that fiction was the only viable means, since the facts of the incident remain classified.”
“And here we are.”
Jay put the pen down. “And here we are, with the addition of one more fact. Someone with an unknown agenda hacked into the classified files from the Hyland Commission Report and intentionally leaked that information to a reporter for a national magazine.”
“A reporter who is specifically connected to you,” Kate added. “Whether or not that’s a lucky coincidence remains to be seen.”
“You know I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Me either.” Kate pointed to the paper. “Now let’s talk about what we don’t know.”
Jay made another column. “We don’t know if the 1989 incident and the subsequent investigations and reports are all that was leaked, or even all that was taken.”
“True. We don’t know who did the hacking or the leaking, and whether those are the same parties. It’s possible that the person who did the hacking handed off the information to someone else when he, or she, realized what was in the files.”
“Or if the hacker was acting on his own or was hired by another unknown party to get in and access those files.”
Kate nodded in agreement. “Or if the Hyland files were the intended target or collateral material.”
“We have no idea if the White House is looking specifically for Sabastien based on assumptions they’re making, or if he was targeted for framing by whoever the hacker or the hacker’s client is.”
“If that’s true,” Kate said, “it would be even more troublesome. We can count on one hand the number of people with knowledge of Sabastien, his skills, and his assignments.”
Jay frowned. “You’re right. So, if this turns out to be someone like that, the White House has a much bigger problem.”
“A traitor on the inside in a classified position.”
“Here we go again.”
“So it would appear. But we can’t be sure until we have more answers.”
“Which brings us back to poor Sabastien. I really hope he’s someplace he can’t be found or traced, and that he can clear himself.” Jay looked at Kate. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“Sabastien is a resourceful guy, and he’s got some powerful friends. He’s got Vaughn Elliott, Peter, and Lorraine, all of whom are, or were, CIA black operatives.”
“And Sedona Ramos and all her National Security Agency resources and training.”
“Yep. Sabastien is probably in a private safe house somewhere with no extradition treaty, surrounded by all the latest technology toys, completely in his element.”
“I really, really hope you’re right,” Jay said. “So, what do we do now?”
Kate lifted the lid off one of the covered plates. “We eat cold eggs and bacon, drink cold coffee, and get ready to go shopping for outfits for tomorrow’s big movie premiere.” She took a bite of bacon and fed the rest of the slice to Jay. “I’m sure Peter will keep us apprised if and when he’s got more to tell.”
Jay stabbed a forkful of her omelet. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For getting me back on track. For always knowing exactly the right thing to do and say. For not getting mad at me for being a Class-A jerk.”
“You weren’t being a jerk.”
Jay made a face. “Yeah. I really was.”
“Maybe a little,” Kate admitted. She leaned over and kissed Jay gently. “I love you.”
“Even when I’m being a jerk?”
“Even then.”
“I’m a lucky girl.”
Kate smiled at her indulgently. “We’re both lucky.”
Sabastien Vaupaul peeked out through the blinds for the umpteenth time. “C’est fou.” He rechecked the bank of computer monitors in front of him. “This is crazy.”
His fingers flew over the keyboard. He typed in a series of commands, then sat back and watched as numbers and text on one of the screens morphed into other numbers and still more text. “Non. C’est ne pas possible.”
He squinted at the monitor and banged on the keys with more force, as if doing so would change the outcome. “Merde.”
He nearly jumped out of his shoes at the shrill ringing of one of several cell phones on the desk. At first, he stared at it as if it was alive. After all, apart from Peter, to whom he already had spoken, nobody knew that number. A glance at the readout yielded no clues. Whoever it was had blocked the incoming phone number. Should he answer? What if the FBI had caught up with him? Then again, what if it was Peter again with some new piece of information?
Tentatively, he accepted the call. “Oui.”
“I hear you’re in a tight spot,” said former CIA agent Vaughn Elliott.
Relief coursed through Sabastien. “It is good to hear your voice, mon amie.”
“That’s a first. You must really be spooked.”
“This makes no sense at all. Whoever did this is a master hacker. As good as me. And nobody is as good as me.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“I am serious, Vaughn Elliott. And, by the record—”
“For the record, genius.”
“Do not trouble me with the truth.”
“With the facts.”
“Did you call to help? Or to harangue me?”
“Unbelievable. You get ‘harangue’ right, but not simple American idioms.”
Sabastien gritted his teeth and prayed for patience. “You are the one who got me into this mess. If you had not told the president to hire me as your government’s personal counter-hacker, I would be sipping umbrella drinks on a beach like you.”
“Do you want to whine? Or do you want to tell me what happened?”
“Some person must have been in the system for a very long time. He learned all my techniques. He spoofed me, and I have not been able to determine how he gained access. I have not yet found his back door.”
“And if you can’t prove that someone else was in there, you can’t prove that you aren’t the leak.”
“Exactement. C’est ça.”
“Do you have all the equipment you need?”
“I do.”
“Are you someplace safe?”
“I hope so.”
“I’m sorry this is happening to you. How can I help you?”
It was a rare moment when Vaughn Elliott showed a softer side. Although it should have brought Sabastien comfort, in truth, it scared the daylights out of him.
“Can you answer why someone would want to do this to me? And why those specific files? They could have taken anything. Yet they were very precise.”
Those were the two questions that had been weighing most heavily on Sabastien’s mind. The hacker could have done immeasurable damage and had access to far more sensitive materials than what was taken.
“You verified that the Hyland files were all that was stolen?”
“I did.”
“I’ll work on motive along with our other friends. I’ll call you when I have something. In the meantime, stay put.”
“Where else, exactly, do you think I would be going? For a swim
on the Riviera?”
“Talk soon.”
“A bientôt, Vaughn Elliott.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Did you see this?” Rebecca turned her iPad so that the screen faced Dara. “The New York Times says Jamison Parker is connected to the reporter at the center of that new leak scandal.”
“Really?”
“He was her intern when she was with the magazine.”
“And their point is?”
“Jay wrote the Time magazine exclusive of that whole treason fiasco in the Hyland administration. Apparently, the classified data connects to when Katherine Kyle was President Hyland’s press secretary. She and Jay already were together then.”
“Interesting. But, unless they’re intimating that Jay is the one who leaked the information to her former intern, I’m wondering why the Times thinks the fact that Jay and the reporter knew each other is newsworthy.” Dara scrolled down. “Oh.”
Instantly alerted by Dara’s tone of voice, Rebecca leaned over.
“Did you get this far?”
Rebecca read the section Dara indicated. “Oh my.”
Advance publicity for Parker’s new book calls it, “A political thriller so real it will take your breath away.” Here is an excerpt from the book’s promotional blurb. “A powerful, shadowy organization wants to advance its own global agenda. To succeed, the president must be eliminated. Only one person knows the truth and can put a stop to the scheme.”
The New York Times contacted Parker’s publisher to ask about the status of the book and the similarities between the author’s real-life account of the Hyland incident and her upcoming fictional tale. Representatives for Black Quill Press refused to comment.
“Holy cow! Do you think Kate and Jay knew about any of this when we met them the other night?”
Just as Rebecca was about to answer, Dara’s personal cell phone rang.
“Hi, Car. Please tell me you’re not sitting on a runway somewhere and that you’ll be on time for tonight’s premiere.” Dara listened for a moment. “Interesting. Rebecca and I were just talking about her… Yes, we read the article… Hang on, let me grab a pen.”
Rebecca snatched a pen and a pad of paper off the kitchen counter and handed them to Dara.
“Okay, give me the number… Got it… Did she say anything specific?”
Rebecca wished she could hear the other end of the conversation.
“Well, I’ll give her a call… I love you too. See you later. Bye.”
“What did Carolyn say?”
“Jay called her. She apologized for disturbing her. Apparently I forgot to give her my number the other night. She wanted to talk to me personally, and didn’t know how to reach me except through my agent.”
“How did Carolyn say she sounded?”
Dara shrugged. “Like she wanted to talk to me.”
“That’s it?”
“If you’d let me make the phone call, I’m sure we could find out exactly what Jay wants to tell me.”
Rebecca bit back her next question as Dara punched in Jay’s number.
“Hello. Jay? Dara Thomas here. My agent tells me you were trying to reach me. I’m sorry. I should have remembered to give you my number the other night.”
Dara was quiet for a long time, and Rebecca resisted the urge to get close enough to eavesdrop.
“No. I don’t want you to do that. There’s no need… No, I mean it… How about this, if you and Kate are free, why don’t we meet in person for lunch and we can talk about it face-to-face?” Dara glanced at her watch. “Let’s say in an hour? We’ll come pick you up… Yes, I’m positive… Okay, we’ll see you shortly. Goodbye.”
“Ms. Thomas, your table is ready.” The maitre d’ led Dara, Rebecca, Kate, and Jay to a secluded corner booth.
The ride over had been a quiet affair, and Dara noted that Jay looked tired, her cheeks drawn.
When they were seated, Jay said, “I’m so sorry. I’m sure you must have much better and more important things to do on the day of your premiere.”
Dara waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. We’d just be sitting around at home, twiddling our thumbs.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
Dara didn’t need to know Jay well to hear the strain in her voice. She reached across the table and put her hand on top of Jay’s hand. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want to be. We have so much respect for you and your work.”
“I imagine if you hadn’t already seen them, after we spoke you read today’s news stories,” Jay said. She licked her lips nervously and withdrew her hand. “I want you to know, the implication that I had anything to do with the leaking of classified data or hacking into secured databases is completely without merit.”
“Jay.” Dara waited until Jay made eye contact with her. “Rebecca and I had already seen the stories. It never occurred to us that there was any truth to it.”
“Anyone who is familiar with your career and your writing knows you had nothing to do with whatever happened,” Rebecca added. “You have tremendous integrity. Anyone would be crazy to question that.”
Jay blushed. “I appreciate your faith in me. Still, I think it would be a mistake for me, for us,”—Jay indicated her and Kate—“to attend the premiere.”
“Nonsense.”
“We don’t want to detract in any way from your moment,” Jay continued as if she hadn’t heard Dara. “This is your big night and we don’t want anything to spoil that.”
“You won’t.”
The waiter came over and took their drink orders. When he had departed, Jay said, “If the media gets wind of our presence—”
“The studio will have plenty of security on hand to keep any enterprising reporters at bay.” Dara turned her attention to Kate. “I know you have extensive experience with this sort of thing. Jay has done nothing wrong and has nothing to hide. Wouldn’t it be a bigger mistake to sequester yourselves away?”
Kate intertwined her fingers with Jay’s. “The answer to that is more complicated than a simple yes or no. You’re right that we don’t want to appear to be frightened or guilty. On the other hand, we should pick our spots carefully. I agree with Jay that your premiere is not the proper venue to take a stand.”
“Understood,” Dara said. She paused as the server placed their drinks on the table. When he took out a pad of paper expectantly, she gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. We haven’t even had a chance to look at the menu yet.”
“That’s fine. Just let me know whenever you’re ready.” The waiter retreated.
“I’m not talking about you holding a press conference on the red carpet.” Dara emptied a packet of artificial sweetener into her iced tea and stirred. “My point is that carrying on with your heads held high lets the media and other detractors know that you won’t be bullied or cowed by them. Maybe I’m naïve, but isn’t that a good message to send?”
“True. But, if you’ll pardon me saying so, attending a movie premiere when there are serious allegations and matters of national security on the line might be perceived as cavalier and disrespectful. If we were attending a major charity event or a conference on world peace—”
“No offense,” Jay added. “Kate’s not intimating that the movie and its debut aren’t important…”
“No offense taken,” Dara said. “I get where you’re going with this.” Dara sipped her tea. “What would happen if you addressed the allegations this afternoon, before you arrived at the premiere? Cleared the air in advance?”
Kate seemed to mull the idea over. “We could take control of the story, which is something you always want to do.”
“No,” Jay said, turning to face Kate. She disentangled their hands.
“Jay—”
Jay shook her head. “Not before I meet with my editor and the publisher on Thursday.”
“They’re not the ones whose integrity is on the line right now,” Kate argued.
“Their reputation is on the line as much as mine i
s. They accepted the manuscript. Their due diligence process is being questioned.”
“Excuse me,” Rebecca said. “But wouldn’t that be all the more reason to take them out of the crosshairs by proclaiming your innocence? Doesn’t that take the heat off the publisher? Wouldn’t they be grateful for that?”
“I would venture to guess that Black Quill’s attorneys might see it differently,” Kate said. “Still…”
“You can’t seriously be suggesting I do this?” Jay asked.
Kate put down her Diet Coke. “Dara’s got a point. Let’s step back and look at this like we would any public relations situation. The first day’s story focused on the leak and the suspected hacker. Today is the second day of the news cycle. In the absence of any new information about the incident itself, the media needed another angle to keep the story alive. So they dug deep enough to find a tenuous connection between you and a former intern who happened to be the beneficiary of the leaked documents.”
“And they threw in the book blurb for good measure to accuse you by innuendo,” Rebecca said to Jay.
“Exactly,” Kate said. “So, let’s anticipate what tomorrow’s news story will be.”
“If we do nothing and are photographed with the glitterati at the movie premiere, the media will say I have a casual disregard for a situation with national security implications.” Jay ran a finger through the condensation on her water glass. “They’ll skewer me.”
Kate nodded. “If we stay under the radar and don’t go to the movie premiere, the press likely will spend their time today digging into every story you ever wrote for Time because they don’t have another fresh angle.”
Dara sat back and observed the interchange, surprised to see Jay’s fingers tremble at Kate’s suggested scenario. She wondered what had caused such a visceral reaction.
“You don’t think they would…”
“That’s exactly what I think,” Kate said, her expression grim.
“Oh, my God.” Tears sprang to Jay’s eyes.
Dara felt like a voyeur, privy to something private and painful. She chanced a glance at Rebecca and sensed that she was having similar thoughts.