The Carbon Cross (The Carbon Series Book 2)

by Randy Dutton

  She stopped the music, brought her feet back down, leaned forward and turned to him. Her voice was chilled. “Private imprisonment and never-ending torture.... Seriously, Pete...I’d kill myself before that.”

  His voice was stressed. “Don’t talk like that! I’m never going to let that happen! You’re safe with me. Whatever happens, you must stay alive!”

  Anna smiled faintly. “You think this is ‘The Last of the Mohicans,’ Pete? You’re Hawkeye chasing down the Iroquois Magua to save Cora Munro?”

  “Well, not exactly, but we have resources...insurance!”

  Her hand rested on his arm. “Against the resources of billionaire financiers, corrupt governments, and mobsters? No one’s safe, not even from my brave Marine lieutenant.” She cautioned, “If they feel threatened that I might reveal their schemes to pillage the financial sector in the guise of environmentalism, they won’t hesitate. They could take down the American president”—she snapped her fingers—“like that! Someday they’ll forget about me, if they even think I’m still alive. And Swanson may not have told any of his associates of my disappearance. It may be just him that threatens me – my insurance mostly is against him.”

  “He’s one evil dude.”

  “And a narcissistic megalomaniac.”

  “He’s also pretty old. Maybe he’ll just drop dead.”

  “Alexis smokes...he drinks...he sexes it up with his yacht girls...and he’s highly stressed. So, if everything goes wrong, it’ll send him over the edge.” She shook her head and smiled. “Still...I like the old coot.”

  “Really?” he asked skeptically.

  “He’s like a grumpy, old grandfather. He doted on me – actually treated me exquisitely. But I never really trusted him.”

  “How were you able to work with him?”

  “Like most progressives, we live to accumulate wealth and power. It’s to compensate for the more spiritual things missing in our lives. I did it for eventual independence. He does it so he can control humanity. It’s what’s driven him most of his 81 years. It’s also his weakness.”

  “How’s that?”

  “He’s afraid of losing his legacy.”

  “Do you really think the video testimony you made for our attorney and the data files you sequestered away with Jim will scare Swanson from pursuing you?”

  “That’s my reasoning. If I stay alive and untouched, the files stay hidden, and I’m just a thorn to him. If I’m killed or captured, the files go viral, starting on a thousand Internet sites. And trust me, I know which sites will spread the word fastest.”

  “I wonder how much he fears you’ll kill him?”

  “After Jared’s car crash...probably a little – less now with Gadget at his side.”

  “Would you do it?”

  “To protect my family? Absolutely!” She leaned back and her brow arched. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Pete focused on the road ahead considering his answer.

  Anna turned the music back on and tapped on her leg to the music’s beat while waiting for an answer.

  Finally, he responded, “Preemptively? If I wasn’t sure he was coming after you, I don’t know. If I were certain, then, yes.”

  “Let’s hope, Dear, your commitment isn’t tested,” she said sternly. “You and I are different in this way. All your life, you’ve lived within a ruled system. For much of mine, I’ve lived outside it. In many ways, you’ve joined my world...not the other way around.”

  “How so?”

  She leaned in close and whispered slowly into his ear, “Because, Darling, they don’t give warnings. It’s instinct that’ll keep us alive.” She leaned back into her seat, closed her eyes, and relaxed. “But as long as there’s no hint of a pursuit, Swanson knows I’ll keep my promise to leave him alone. Gadget will remind him.”

  “I hope your faith in him is rewarded,” he said.

  So do I, she thought.

  He looked at her. “Babe, that device you used in France to send Jared’s car over the cliff, what did you call it?”

  “A SCADA transceiver.”

  “What’s it stand for?”

  “Supervisory Control and Data Acquisition. It’s a computer system that monitors and controls industrial processes”

  “But it was a car, not an industrial site.”

  “My transceiver was more universal. Most everything’s exposed nowadays. Know all those green buildings built the past few years? They’re all vulnerable because of the electronics. Same goes for most industrial machinery, the smart power grid, and transportation networks.” She chuckled. “Back in 2013, even the International Space Station was hit by SCADA malware.”

  “Is the transceiver one of Gadget’s?”

  “No.” Anna pridefully shook her unrestrained tresses. “The design’s something I picked up from a hacker associate nicknamed Aspen. I built the device in my armory. I don’t think Gadget even knows of the design.”

  “Think he’ll figure it out?”

  “I hope not. If I used the program correctly, the last firmware update I transmitted into Jared’s car reinstalled the original programming and wiped all traces of my malware.”

  “How’s it work, again? At the time I was more concerned that it did work.” Pete grimaced at the thought that on their second day as husband and wife, he helped kill several men.

  Anna smiled and patted his leg. “Luxury cars have about 80 computers and several vulnerabilities. One of them is the mechanic’s diagnostic computer. A custom transceiver wirelessly connects to a computer system that normally provides firmware updates. That in turn gives a hacker control over a device’s functions, whether it’s the steering or brakes of a vehicle, or the amount of insulin released from an insulin pump, or how often a motor cycles in a manufacturing facility.”

  Her hand squeezed his thigh. “I couldn’t have done it without you! We made a good team...you driving, me working the computer and transceiver. Timing was everything.”

  “You could hack the steering?”

  “On a drive-by-wire vehicle, yes. Jared’s car wasn’t.”

  The incongruence of the conversation while driving struck them, causing both to laugh, his being more nervous.

  “Don’t worry, Honey.” Her nose wrinkled. “I deactivated all the wireless receivers in your car.”

  “Ours.” He pondered the extent of her modifications to his SUV.

  She wrapped her arm around his while her head pressed to his shoulder. “Darling, I’m so glad you disregarded my demand that you stay behind. I thought I was protecting you and your family. Since then, I’ve realized that if something had happened to me, you would have had a life of regret.”

  “Which nearly happened.”

  Her cheek rubbed against his, then her hand stroked his strong jaw and moved to his chin. “Yes. I’ve never realized two people could be so connected. We really are soul mates.”

  “Two weeks seems like such a long time ago.” He chuckled at her hand rubbing his face. “What are you doing?”

  “Time flies when you’re having fun? Oh, and I was wondering what you’d look like with a beard.”

  He scowled. “Flying to France the morning after our wedding to erase your trail? Seriously? You had fun? It shocked me!”

  “You like surprises, don’t you?” She playfully batted her lashes to lighten the mood. When Pete couldn’t contain a laugh, she admitted, “It was organized chaos.”

  “How so?” He was intrigued.

  “Well, I had all sorts of contingencies. But I hadn’t planned on the accelerated pace of running into Jared at my villa. Did I ever tell you that he was former British Intelligence, MI5?”

  “No.”

  “As Swanson’s head of security, he was mean as a skunk, too.”

  “Will you ever tell me everything you did before we met?”

  Her voice pitch lowered. “You got a little from your investigator’s report.”

  “Very little. It told me mostly about your growing up, your academics, yo
ur visible social activities, and your tax records.”

  Her eyes squinted. “You saw my taxes?”

  “Only what you reported, which, knowing you, was way off. Few of the details reflect what I’ve learned about you.”

  “No kidding!” She chuckled. “Well, you’ve figured out some details from our time together, and I’m sure over time I’ll fill in more pieces. Frankly, there are things I want to forget...I’ve boxed them away.” She became more retrospective. “But there were events worth remembering—”

  “Such as?”

  “The night you stalked me at my villa.”

  “There you go calling me a stalker again. It was reconnaissance. I just needed to figure you out. Were you the malicious, cold killer the investigators thought, or—”

  “The merely misguided woman you fell in love with?” she chimed in with a smile.

  “Yeah.” His voice mimicked an announcer’s intonations. “The beautiful and brilliant Anna Catherine Picard, a chameleon assassin for the billionaire Swanson, enabling his evil deeds to conquer the world, but more motivated by the game than malevolency.” His voice returned to normal. “Our romance reminds me of a Bond movie where he changes the beautiful villainess’ allegiance in a single encounter.”

  “And my handsome Texas A&M quarterback hero is James Bond?”

  He grinned. “I like that analogy.”

  “Well I don’t. You’re better looking than, let’s say, Sean Connery. I’ve always thought you were more suited for a western...like James Garner.” She reached behind the front seat for a wicker basket.

  “I can live with that.” He thrust out his square jaw and stroked his chin. “A beard, huh? Connery looked pretty good with one.”

  She pulled the basket forward. “Tell you what, how about you grow a beard on this vacation? Later, if either of us doesn’t like it by the end, off it goes...but you’ve got to keep it trimmed, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  She cocked her head. “I’ve reconsidered.”

  “The beard? Already?”

  “Of course not, the beard adds to the camouflage. I think you’re better suit for a Hallmark movie.” She chuckled. “You’ve got a real softy side to you. Don’t get me wrong. I like your sentimentality...unless it gets wimpish.” She peered inside the container. “Hungry? Mom’s packed lunch for us – fried chicken, potato salad, apple pie...and fruit.” Putting a grape to his lips, she chuckled. “Ready for a picnic?”

  Gently gripping the fruit with his teeth, he uttered, “Sure.... Wimpish?”

  “Uh huh. Are there any romantic spots near here?” She grimaced at the rolling Oklahoma prairie.

  “Not really.”

  “Probably for the best”—her resignation was evident—“it’s over 100 outside. I though going north would be cooler. Can we eat in the car and keep on the A/C?” she pleaded.

  “Who’s the wimp now?”

  Chapter 32

  August 24, morning

  Spider

  Dots and lines overlaid Anna’s face. The HP three-meter nanopatterned display revealed her minute details in a crisp 3-D image.

  “Why’s that up?!” Swanson grumbled after walking into the conference room. He moved closer and swayed his head for different perspectives. “And why the marks?” He sat at the table next to his security head.

  “Data points for facial recognition. This is one way we may find her.” Gabriel clicked the keyboard.

  “So it’s a modern ‘Wanted Poster’?”

  “Pretty much.” Gabriel moved the cursor around Anna’s enlarged face. “Twelve years ago, when you asked me to recruit you some agents, I ran all college entry photos through the CIA’s manpower software. For your needs, I inputted a minimum facial beauty score.”

  “There’s such a thing?”

  “Has been for decades, and Anna scored near the top.” Gabriel moved the cursor from dot to dot. “She’s got horizontal symmetry.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A perfect nose-to-ear length ratio, ideal face length to width, her nose’s perhaps a bit narrow, and her mouth maybe a little too full. But her wide eyes and slightly larger than average pupils give her a seductive allure.”

  “Numbers aren’t everything,” Swanson reminded. He slid a gold tray closer to bring a crystal decanter within reach.

  “Of course not.” Gabriel flipped through a series of photos of a young Anna clothes shopping. “I also checked with modeling scouts. They’ve got an innate ability to recognize natural beauty in a crowd.”

  “Wouldn’t they have signed her up first?”

  “One scout approached her in college, after secretly taking these photos. She scorned his offer, and he decided she was too intense and argumentative.”

  “That independence is proving to be a mistake,” Swanson said testily while pouring himself a whisky.

  “That trait is one of the reasons she’s so good, and why I wanted her. I took the facial score and cross indexed it against several attributes.”

  “Such as?”

  “Intelligence, memory, language proficiency, and athleticism.... And of course, I wanted someone without familial ties.”

  “An orphan. Eliminate the competition for her morality....” He took a sip then leaned back. “Gabriel, you were involved with CIA agent recruitment. How come the CIA didn’t grab her?”

  “She wouldn’t have passed their psychological evaluation.”

  Swanson tensed and leaned forward. “You hired me a crazy woman?”

  “With Factor 1 psychotic tendencies, but not crazy in the technical sense. At least, not much more than you or me. I had a surreptitious PCL-R done on her.”

  “What the hell’s that?”

  “It’s a psychological checklist that evaluated her social skills, needs, honesty, and most importantly, her self-control. Her bitterness and disillusionment made her too untrustworthy for the agency. But she was what I wanted for you.”

  “And what was that?”

  “Someone with manipulative skill and a lack of remorse that I could sculpt. Being unable to maintain genuine human affection for any longer than a mission took, her personal relationships wouldn’t compete with your goals.”

  “I don’t know. She always seemed nice to me.”

  “And I’ve no doubt she really cared for you too, but she couldn’t form a long-term romantic connection. Her attitude wasn’t the only problem for the Agency.”

  “What was?”

  “She wouldn’t have passed their security clearance.”

  “Because she was an escort?”

  “Partly. When her father died, she spent nearly his entire $400,000 life insurance payout on a wild summer in Europe.”

  “Why would that have been a problem?”

  Gabriel chuckled. “Because she reveled in stealing and creating identities. She had a grandiose self-image.”

  Swanson’s eyes narrowed.

  “Alexis, let me explain. Anna infiltrated royal balls, befriended and bedded some of the famous...and notorious. She flitted in and out of social groups as easily as an ‘A-Lister’. And whenever she got caught, which was rare, she talked her way out of trouble...and get this.... Her deception was so good, they often invited her back.”

  “So she was a party crasher and con artist.”

  “And a quick study. She always maintained the illusion of being pedigreed.”

  “Wouldn’t the CIA have appreciated that ability?”

  “Absolutely. Problem is, much of her experience and contacts would have been unverifiable by the Agency.”

  “Thus suspect.”

  “Right. And she’s such a good actress she can fool lie detectors. The CIA wanted someone committed to public service they could trust, and was ambitious to impact the world, but not in the way we intended.”

  “Wasn’t her mother an actress?”

  “A performer...pianist, singer, dancer trained at the Conservatoire de Paris. Quite beautiful in her own right. Anna would have turned ou
t quite differently had her mother not died in a boating accident.”

  “Well, the daughter certainly helped me impact the world,” Swanson acknowledged.

  “Anna didn’t give squat about public service....” Gabriel pressed a button and another image displayed, this one of her with heavy makeup.

  “The dots and lines moved. Why?”

  “Computer recognition software tries determining key facial markers. She’s knows how to fool the camera with makeup to shift the markers, thus making a match unlikely.”

  “So what are you doing?”

  “Over the past couple weeks I’ve been programming variations of her identity into the intelligence networks’ databases. I’m also changing all references of Anna Picard to Olga Svechinsky.”

  “Why?” Swanson asked brusquely.

  “Because, Anna worked for you, and we want to distance ourselves from her illegal activities. As far as anyone else is concerned, we’re hunting Olga, not Anna.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “It won’t be complete, but it’ll allow our intelligence contacts to use their resources on our behalf. You recall that in the last few years, the US, like many countries, has dramatically increased its drone fleet to surveil its population. Many of these UAV cameras link to a centralized face recognition database.”

  “And the Russians?”

  “Like us, they have sources inside US intelligence. It’ll help the Russians find her.”

  “When will this database change take effect?”

  Gabriel touched his keyboard. “It just did.”

  He flipped another picture on screen to a 14-meter sailboat backdropped by a pyramidal mountain jutting from Caribbean blue water. The monohull’s spinnaker was being hauled down by a young couple, and a bearded man was grasping the wheel in the stern cockpit.

  “So now you’re showing me your screen saver?” Swanson said dismissively.

  Gabriel grinned. “It’s a nice shot isn’t it? No, I put it up for a reason.”

  “Get to the point,” the older man said gruffly.

  “It’s a Beneteau Oceanis 473.”

  “Who owns it?”

  “Technically, you do.”

  Swanson leaned forward and squinted. “Is that Marv?”