Covert Affairs: Partnership : A Covert Affairs Romance (Book One)

by Valerie Vaughn

  Syler raised a brow. “And?”

  Arthur grinned, teasing. “And what, Deputy Director Perrin? Am I missing something?”

  “It’s really an ingrained reflex for you, the flirting, isn’t it?” Syler scoffed, reaching a hand out, palm up, silently demanding the data stick.

  “You make it sound like I’m not serious, sweetheart.” He passed over the flash drive, hands returning to his pockets, stance deceptively casual as he leaned against Syler’s desk. “What do you say—”

  “Excellent, let’s have a look, shall we?” Syler cut him off before he could finish, plugging the drive into the secured reader port of his secondary laptop. Beside him, Arthur huffed.

  “You’re absolutely no fun.”

  “‘Fun’ wasn’t something included in my job description when I was conscripted,” Syler replied distractedly, pulling up the file directory and starting with the most recent documents, reviewing them quickly.

  “Conscripted? Now there’s a story I want to hear.” Arthur noted conversationally, eyes scanning over the financial ledgers as well.

  “Bring your equipment back intact for the next year and I’ll consider it,” Syler offered blithely, parsing through the discrepancies in incoming funds that neatly matched those stolen from various US institutions over the past several months, all directed into a series of dummy accounts. Oliveria really wasn’t trying to hide what he was doing from anyone with access, apparently unconcerned with the possibility of someone breaching his abnormally strong firewalls. The dichotomy in caution seemed strange, particularly when considering his less defended home security system, but nothing else immediately jumped out as Syler continued his review.

  “A year? High stakes. Must be quite the story.”

  Syler had learned quickly to quell any residual embarrassment over the circumstances of his hiring lest those around him latched onto it and pressed for details he’d rather pretend hadn’t happened. The perils of a workplace filed with spies, that. “Riveting,” he promised sarcastically, moving onto Oliveria’s emails. “Now, tell me, why does a Brazilian banker with a nearly impenetrable security system do so little else to hide what he’s up to? And why does everything else he’s doing seem so above board at first glance?”

  Arthur’s eyes ran over the emails. Standard invoices for sales and services. Account transactions for the larger clients. Other than the stolen funds and the security surrounding access, nothing about Oliveria was especially odd. “Seems like Oliveria is just a middle man after all.”

  “Well, he’s certainly not the one who built this system. I doubt the man even realizes how advanced his security is. You mentioned there were files detailing other companies?”

  “Yeah,” Arthur pointed to a number of email threads to various organizations. “These three, at least, all containing incoming or outgoing transaction records. Can you pull the digital copies up?” Syler did and Arthur glanced through them. An export company, a manufacturing plant, and an automaker. “The sums in the files were all precise. Even thousands. They’ve been deposited to these accounts from the dummies.”

  “Payments for something possibly. Hang on,” Syler highlighted a specific ledger, Pyrona Inc., launching a search on the name. “This doesn’t exist. It’s a shell.”

  “Do the dummy accounts match up with the shell?” Syler nodded. “So the funds are being stolen by someone, but probably not Oliveria.”

  “Shame he doesn’t have a document titled ‘Evil Plans For Stolen Funds,’ for all that it’s more work for us to sort out.”

  “Always good to know I have some job security,” Arthur quipped. “Don’t suppose you can get anything with that back door worm you had me install?”

  “No, it’ll let me see anything Oliveria does moving forward, but unless he does decide to leave a road map, I suspect you’ll be going on another trip soon to see about locating whomever is actually in charge. In all possibility, it’s one of the other companies and Oliveria is just the cash manager. I’ll put together a report for the Director.” He dismissed Arthur with a casual nod, refocusing his attention on the files and opening a blank report form on his main computer to begin compiling the dossier in question. “That’ll be all I need from you today. Thank you, Agent.”

  Arthur’s posture relaxed at that, blue eyes getting a mischievous look to them again. Syler suddenly became aware of the hand gently resting on his shoulder. “In that case, what do you say you and I—”

  “No.” Syler didn’t have the energy for another round of the older man’s nonsense. Not today, not ever, certainly not in the workplace with a man who tried to get himself killed for a living.

  “You didn’t even let me finish.” The other man sounded almost put out.

  “If you want to subject something to more of your atrocious flirting, try the coat rack. It’ll be more receptive.”

  Arthur laughed, tucking his hands back into his pockets, safely away from Syler’s shoulders. “Oh, come on, you know you like me.” Syler fixed him with a look, appraising. Arthur gave him a cheeky grin.

  “I deny everything.” Arthur deflated a bit. “That said,” Syler continued, “I suppose it is good to have you back intact. KIA paperwork is a real bitch to fill out and I need someone to keep the minions occupied during lulls.”

  “Careful, Mr. Perrin. I might take that as encouragement,” Arthur teased, preparing to leave all the same.

  “Perish the thought.” He returned to the dossier. “Have a good evening, Agent Dufault.”

  Nine

  “He’s demanding you again,” Jason announced, appearing in the doorway of the testing lab without preamble. Under other circumstances, Syler thought, the pleading quality to his brown eyes might’ve been comical. “Please, for the love of god, put me out of my misery. Miranda might kill me if I don’t come back with you.”

  The problem with being better than everyone else at what you do, Syler reflected, is that certain individuals will eventually refuse to settle for anyone else, even when someone else would absolutely do. In fact, the other people assigned were arguably overqualified to do the job, but try telling that to the overgrown man child that was his senior field agent, presumably currently throwing a fit over the comms at this very moment, and interrupting what should have been a pleasant morning spent tinkering with new gadgets before facing down an afternoon of bureaucracy laden meetings.

  “If we keep giving in, he wins,” Syler commented, already internally resigned. This was three missions now that Dufault had demanded his attention and bullied his initial handler into getting it.

  “Boss, he already has,” Alvarez replied, mustache twitching worriedly. “Something, something, ‘give me someone who can actually hack into these security cameras or I’ll get shot before I can get within range of the main office.’ Apparently, the security is tighter than anticipated. Miranda and I both hit a wall.”

  Syler focused immediately. He’d outfitted Dufault with a prototype key fob meant to seamlessly and discreetly pair with any on-site security cameras and transmit the data back to operations for rapid access. The Bulgarian export company Dufault had been sent to follow up on after his assignment to Brazil shouldn’t be so heavily guarded as to render it unusable, just as Oliveria’s computer networks shouldn’t have been so well secured. He set aside his soldering iron, expression appropriately forlorn at leaving behind his miniature grenade launcher. “Yes, alright. I’ll take a crack at it then.”

  Jason followed him out of the lab, trailing behind him as they made their way back to central control from the R&D section of operations as if he were afraid he’d make a break for it if he weren’t escorted. Syler resisted the urge to scoff. He was going to have to have a conversation with Dufault about the concept of manners again. Scaring the minions was to be expected, but his shift managers? Unacceptable.

  Miranda’s eyes locked onto him the moment he entered the room, dark curls frazzled out of her usually neat twists, face tense. “S, could you spare a hand? Dufaul
t got past the initial security, but he’s held down by the sheer volume of guards and I can’t even touch their system without triggering an alert.”

  “Understood. Benson, you and Alvarez review their records again. Something isn’t adding up.” Syler stepped up to the command desk, slipping on a headset and keying into the correct frequency. “Agent Dufault, I have you.”

  “Thank fuck,” came the emphatic reply from the agent. Miranda, still keying off, pursed her lips, face tight with an expression that spoke volumes about the nonsense she’d been subjected to.

  ‘Definitely having a talk about manners later,’ Syler reiterated. “Status report.”

  “Pinned down in the northwest corner of the basement parking garage. This place is crawling with armed guards.” Syler hummed, examining the encryption on their database.

  “Seems a bit disproportional for a company focused on hardware and electronics exports.”

  “Just a bit,” Arthur returned, voice terse but starting to ease. “Don’t suppose you could work your magic and get me to the CEOs office without detection?”

  Syler continued to examine the encryption. Unlike Oliveria, the exports company was as thorough with their physical security as they were with digital records. “No, everything is housed internally on a closed system. I can see where the cameras are in comparison to the blueprints of the building, but I can’t complete the fob pairing without triggering a full alert, let alone hack it manually. Seems they put more effort into their security than our banker.” Syler pulled open a new window, accessing a separate link, a thought occurring to him as a pattern emerged in the code he was examining.

  Arthur swore. “Fine, next guard passes by in two minutes. They have three pairs on this floor alone, opposite directions, full overlap. I can possibly—”

  “No,” Syler interrupted, reviewing the encryption from a new angle, comparing. “You don’t need to. Withdraw to the extraction point.” Miranda glanced up at him, dark eyes inquisitive.

  “Why?” His tone was curious, not argumentative. Something of a first for the man, honestly.

  “Their security system is a closed circuit network, entirely hardwired, but that’s not interesting. Well,” he amended, “it’s not as interesting as what their computer systems have in common with Oliveria’s and that’s my primary concern.”

  “Please do share with the class, darling.”

  “The worm I had you install on Oliveria’s computer network. I’ve been monitoring the files on his account, as well as the incoming and outgoing correspondence. Unsurprisingly, his computer log shows ongoing emails with the others. Nothing out of place about them—purchase orders, financial accounts, funds transfers—but nothing stands out except that they’re all on behalf of Pyrona. Nothing at all.”

  “And nothing to go on means throw the intel gathering mission why?” Arthur’s frustrated tone was coming back out to play.

  “Besides the astonishingly small possibility of you managing to stay undetected? Because we’re not going to find anything useful. The records aren’t interesting beyond all referencing the same shell company. It’s that they’re all using the same encryption system. Oliveria’s computer, these security cameras, the manufacturing plant’s digital firewalls, the automaker’s assembly line code—all the same unique signature.”

  Arthur finally caught Syler’s train of thought. “These are all middle men benefiting from the security of the shell corporation concealing the main player.”

  “Seems so. I’ll work on expanding the worm to see if I can piggyback into the other systems on the off chance there’s something useful, but I’d prefer to leave that until you’re not in the building if it’s all the same to you.” Arthur had already begun making his way back out to the main entrance, unmanned despite the active guards patrolling the garage itself, hugging tight to the shadows of the wall.

  “Careful sweetheart. It almost sounds like you care,” he teased, slipping behind a vehicle as the footsteps of a patrol echoed closer.

  “Perish the thought.” Syler remained silent until Arthur was clear of the building, simultaneously noting potential exploits of the link between Oliveria’s computer and the export company’s security system and cross referencing the security of the automaker and manufacturing plants as he did. “Extraction point is six blocks east of your current location. You’ll find an unlocked blue Hyundai in front of the corner market. Code D0723F for the lock box with the keys.” Syler passed his notes to Miranda and Jason for further examination, preparing to hand Dufault off.

  “Mm, don’t suppose you’ll move my flight up too, sweetheart?”

  Syler pursed his lips, considering. “No, you can wile away the evening at Sophia International and then the remaining hours flying in coach.” He paused as Arthur sputtered, intent on making a point. “Hopefully, you’ll have time to work on strategies for improving your manners with my staff. Handing off to Benson. Pleasant flight!”

  Arthur continued sputtering; Miranda grinned unabashedly. Syler just looked dispassionately at the clock, setting the whole affair aside for the time being as he collected the expense reports for the inter-departmental meeting he was now late to.

  Ten

  “If I’m understanding you correctly, Mr. Perrin, we’re at a dead end.” Director Boothman was deeply displeased. After two weeks of digging, Syler shared her frustrations.

  “Until they give us something more to work from, yes,” Beside him, the Colonel retrieved a file, passing copies to each of the four. Syler considered if now was a poor time to make another request to digitize. Knowing his luck, Dufault would turn it into an innuendo.

  “We’ve uncovered more instances of funds theft, not all of them isolated to the United States, and an additional three corporations involved in them. All different countries, all utilizing the same security encryption, but not a single one appears to be the main player behind Pyrona Inc,.” Thompson noted.

  “Well, you could always send me to conduct an in person interrogation of Oliveria and the other company heads,” Arthur began, tone considering. “After all, historically, it’s never a good sign when a shadow organization starts amassing a small army of middle men for unknown reasons. Generally best to put a stop to it quickly.”

  Boothman nodded, adding the dossier to her collection of other files on the case. “Generally, yes, but I get the feeling you don’t want to do that.”

  He shook his head. “Based on what we’ve found thus far, whoever is responsible for the funds thefts and hacks are only using Oliveria as a cash manager and the companies receiving payments from Pyrona aren’t directly communicating with the shell in a way we can track. None of them have finished production or listed a delivery location, and they’re not communicating with each other besides. Whatever’s going on, whoever owns Pyrona is the one coordinating it.”

  Syler hummed thoughtfully. “What drew our attention in the first place was the sophistication of the security the hacker was using and while following the money is a tried and true approach in other circumstances, it seems unlikely they’ve left enough behind in the transaction records to point to who they are even with an interrogation.”

  “Exactly, risky gamble,” Arthur confirmed. “The only thing digging deeper is likely to accomplish is giving our investigation away, at which point the main player is liable to go to ground and we’ll lose track of them entirely. We’re better off just keeping tabs and waiting, ma’am.”

  The Director nodded, turning to her heads of operations. “I agree. Continue to monitor the situation and update me as it evolves. These sorts always make a mistake eventually.” She paused, waiting for any objections. “If there’s nothing else, Dufault, Thompson, dismissed. Perrin, stay.”

  Syler briefly ran over the list of projects he’d been working on as the other two men made their way out, prepared to brief her on the budget adjustments made to compensate for the uptick in expenses stemming from firewall equipment upgrades. He adjusted his glasses and opened the
relevant files on his tablet, the door clicking shut in the background.

  “I’d like to discuss your handling of Agent Dufault, Perrin.”

  Syler looked up sharply, thrown off. “Ma’am?”

  “I’ve reviewed the transcript logs from each of your shared ops over the last six weeks. Since the assignment in Brazil, he’s requested you for every mission.” She leaned forward in her chair to fix him with an inscrutable look. The effect was not unlike a scientist examining a particularly interesting specimen. “It would seem that he’s developed a preference.”

  “Tell me about it.” Syler shrugged helplessly. “Though I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I’m hardly the only qualified member of operations.” The Director smiled, small and shrewd, as though she’d alighted upon a particularly brilliant idea that she was eager to share, but wanted to savor his torment by drawing out the moment. Syler spared a thought to consider that, between Guantanamo and this absolutely terrifying woman, he should’ve taken the jail time.

  “Seven years as a field agent and he’s never once requested a handler by name,” she continued, tone that of someone commenting on the weather and, oh, Syler did not like where this was going. “He trusts you.”

  “Ma’am, I—” Syler interrupted feebly. She silenced him with a raised hand.

  “Dufault has always had an incredibly high rate of mission success. It’s what makes him one of our best agents. Unfortunately, he tends to go off script to do it and the collateral damage can be,” Boothman paused, flicking her hand through the air, “trying. This is the first time in memory that he’s found a handler suited to him.” Syler blanched, absolutely hating the turn this conversation had taken but seeing no way off the proverbial roller coaster now that it’d started down the tracks. Boothman leaned back, satisfied that he’d caught on.