Spyder Web

by Tom Grace

  ‘Unfortunately, we’re not going to get anything more detailed about this situation without going there. Actually’—Roe mused for a moment—‘that might not be a bad idea. They’ve gotten a fair amount of press regarding that optical processor. Perhaps I could arrange an interview to see how things are progressing. That might get me close enough to see what they’re doing.’

  ‘Excellent idea,’ Parnell agreed. ‘I’ll have Paulette make arrangements for you to fly out this afternoon. After all, we wouldn’t want our source to disappear suddenly.’

  In the building across the riverfront park from the latemodern tower that housed Parnell’s office, two watchers from Axton’s team sat armed with cameras and laserdriven sound amplifiers. From their vantage point in the unleased space, they had a clear shot at Parnell’s corner office. Teams had been staked out here around the clock since Kang Fa’s last visit to London, without much success. If Parnell was involved in something illegal, he was doing a good job of not discussing it during business hours. This afternoon, Neville Axton sat in with the watchers, taking his measure of the man in the other building.

  ‘Interesting, lads—that’s the first time I recall Parnell mentioning an outside source for his information. Interesting, but strange,’ Axton mused.

  ‘How so?’ one of the watchers asked.

  ‘Well, it’s their language,’ Axton explained, still not clear himself about this train of thought. ‘They never come out and say who their source is, but Roe mentioned that someone was looking “at the device.” I wonder what she meant by that. Very odd.’

  33

  ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN

  April 30

  Roe arrived at the MARC building and parked her rented car in a visitor’s space next to a beige sedan bearing government plates. As she walked into the building’s lobby, she quickly checked her notes on the research project tied to the Spyder.

  ‘Good morning. I’m Alex Roe,’ she announced as she reached the reception desk. ‘I would like to speak with Professor Kelsey Newton, if she’s available.’

  The receptionist checked Newton’s calendar. ‘I’m sorry, but she’s out of the office.Was she expecting you?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t have an appointment. I was in the area doing research for another story, and I decided to stop by and see how her project was going. I read about her work in the New York Times, and I was thinking about writing a detailed piece for magazine publication.’

  The door to the left of the reception desk opened, through which two conservatively dressed women passed, followed by Sean Kilkenny.

  ‘That gentleman is our director,’ the receptionist offered politely. ‘Perhaps he can help you.’

  Roe waited until Kilkenny had escorted his guests out the door and over to the government sedan. She studied the women as they left and noticed the unmistakable bulge of pistol holsters on both. They were armed and, undoubtedly, federal agents.

  The receptionist flagged Sean Kilkenny down as he returned from the vestibule. ‘Mr Kilkenny, this is Alex Roe. She came to interview Professor Newton about the processor.’

  Roe offered her hand to Kilkenny. ‘A pleasure to meet you, and no, I didn’t have an appointment.As I told your receptionist, I was in the area and I thought I’d stop by and see how things are progressing.Unfortunately, I seem to have picked a bad day.’

  ‘Very true. Both Professor Newton and my son are in Chicago doing a little troubleshooting.’

  ‘Troubleshooting?’ Roe feigned a journalist’s detached interest. ‘Nothing wrong with the processor, I hope.’

  Kilkenny shook his head. ‘No, just visiting one of our vendors. I can furnish you with some publicity information about the project, but, unfortunately, we don’t have anyone else here who is technically qualified to speak with you about it.’

  A slight tremor of panic shuddered through Roe. Perhaps they were closer to discovering the Spyder than she’d imagined. ‘When are they expected back?’

  ‘It’s just a weekend trip; they’ll both be back Monday morning. If you like, our receptionist can schedule an interview with them early next week.’

  ‘Unfortunately, I’m flying out this evening.’ Roe finished jotting down a few notes and closed her pad. ‘As soon as I finish up my current project, I’ll try to get back out this way. And next time, I’ll call ahead.’

  Roe handed Kilkenny a business card and left the MARC building. She was amazed at how well she’d held her composure while speaking with Sean Kilkenny. The researchers at MARC might be very close to unmasking the Spyder. In all her years as a spy, Roe had never felt so close to discovery.

  After driving around town to get her thoughts in order, Roe returned to her hotel. The information she had was circumstantial; what she needed was verification.

  ‘Moy Electronics,’ the receptionist answered enthusiastically. ‘This is Debra. How may I direct your call?’

  Roe smiled at the sound of a human voice. Moy Electronics might be one of the premier high-technology companies in the world, but its owner was a firm believer that a human voice was better than an electronic voicemail system for communicating with his customers.

  ‘Hello, Debra. This is Rena from the Michigan Applied Research Consortium in Ann Arbor,’ Roe lied with ease, ‘and I need your help. Two of our people are in Chicago, and they’ve misplaced their itinerary. I don’t have a copy of it here, and I’m desperate. I need to reconfirm their meeting schedule. Do you have that information available?’

  Roe knew from her previous visit to Moy that all staff schedules and on-site meetings were accessible by computer. The only snag would be if Debra didn’t take pity on her and refused to pass that information over the phone.

  ‘Normally, I wouldn’t do this,’ Debra replied, ‘but I guess I can help you out.What are your people’s names?’

  ‘Kelsey Newton and Nolan Kilkenny,’ Roe answered, her voice showing just the right amount of relief and gratitude.

  Roe could hear the receptionist clicking away at her computer to locate the information. ‘I show only one meeting for them—today at two-thirty, with Bill Iverson. No other information is listed in the entry.’

  ‘Today at two-thirty, Bill Iverson,’ Roe repeated. ‘Thanks, Debra, you’re a lifesaver. I just hope the other companies I have to call are as helpful.’

  ‘It was no trouble,’ the receptionist replied cheerfully, responding to the compliment. ‘You have a good day.’

  The line went dead and Roe held the phone for a moment as it buzzed. Kilkenny and Newton were going to meet with Iverson, the brain behind the Spyder project. Things were definitely getting too hot. The wailing of the phone in her hand brought Roe back to the present. She depressed the phone cradle to clear the line and dialed Parnell in London.

  ‘Paulette, it’s Alex. Is Ian in? I need to talk with him.’

  ‘he’s in, but he’s with Ba Xan.’ The distaste Paulette felt for the man was evident in the sound of her voice.

  ‘That’s fine,’Roe assured her. ‘This has to do with him, as well. Put me through.’

  The line went silent for a moment as Paulette transferred her call.

  ‘Alex, I’ve got you on the speaker with Mr Ba. I’ve informed our client that you are in the States looking into a problem with our source. What seems to be the difficulty?’

  ‘Discovery, or damn close to it. They’ve identified our device as part of a communications problem they’re experiencing. Two of their people are in Chicago to talk with the engineer who designed it. This supply line looks like it’s going to dry up very quickly. I suggest we download the suicide program and cut our losses.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Parnell apologized, ‘but we’re going to have to hang on a little longer. Our client has some news for us.’

  ‘Miss Roe, this is Ba Xan.’Even with the Atlantic separating them, Ba still sounded dangerous. ‘Your partner has graciously taken me into his confidence regarding the source of your information. I must insist that you keep it available fo
r the next few weeks.’

  ‘Ian, can I assume that our client’s position is not negotiable?’

  Parnell correctly took Roe’s question to mean that they had no choice in the matter. ‘Precisely.’

  ‘Mr Ba, Ian and I would love to keep our source in place for another few weeks, just for you,’ Roe said sarcastically, ‘but forces outside of our control are moving to shut it down as we speak. I doubt that it will last much past Monday.’

  ‘Please describe your situation and the people involved,’ Kang said calmly. ‘I might be able to assist in keeping your source in place.’

  While Roe explained what she knew about the unraveling situation at MARC, Neville Axton and his watchers were having fits with their equipment across the way.

  ‘Damn, all we’re getting is static!’ Axton growled. ‘I can’t believe our luck! Kang pops up, and now this. What’s going on?’

  ‘Sir, the equipment’s fine,’ a frustrated engineer replied. ‘Kang’s got a white-noise generator of some kind that’s feeding us all this static. It’s even affecting the phone tap. Sorry, sir, but I’m not picking up enough of what’s being said to make any sense at all.’

  Axton slumped in his chair, still staring at the obscured window in the building across the park. Inside that office, a foreign agent was executing an intelligence operation on British soil. Part of him wanted to break in and arrest the bastards, but he knew better. Like any good hunter, he had to study his quarry, understand it, before he could move against it. Kang was dangerous, and very clever—not the sort of man you went after unprepared.

  34

  CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

  Their journey to Chicago had been a quiet one, with Nolan driving and an overworked Kelsey sleeping the entire way there. Sensing Kelsey’s weary state, Nolan’s sister-in-law, Maureen, immediately made plans for the physicist’s recovery. Unfortunately, John Kilkenny felt no such compassion toward his younger brother and immediately put him to work.While Kelsey and Maureen spent most of Thursday being pampered at a luxurious spa, Nolan and John demolished the old garage to make room for a new addition.

  By Friday morning, with two full nights of sleep in her system, Kelsey had returned to her normal self. As she entered the kitchen, she found Nolan and his brother seated at the table, eating breakfast and reading the newspaper.

  ‘Good morning,’ Kelsey said with a lilt in her voice.

  ‘You ready to head downtown for our meeting?’Nolan asked.

  ‘I guess so. After yesterday, I’d put that part of my brain on hiatus. I think that masseur removed my bones. I feel like I’m made out of Jell-O.’

  Nolan slowly turned his head, rotating it from side to side. There was an audible snap as he leaned forward. ‘I could use a little of that right now.’

  ‘Allow me.’

  Kelsey stood behind Nolan’s chair and began kneading his neck and shoulders. Nolan let his head sag forward as she released the tightness from his sore muscles.

  ‘Hey, Mo,’ John called out as his wife entered the kitchen, ‘how about doing me?’

  ‘No way. The last time I did that, I ended up pregnant.’

  ‘Can’t blame me for trying,’ John replied while studying the National League box scores.

  ‘Did you tell Nolan about the dress you bought?’ Maureen asked, prompting Kelsey.

  Kelsey hesitated for a minute. ‘Maureen took me to this fabulous dress shop down on Michigan Avenue and I found this stunning blue silk dress.’

  ‘It’s the same color as her eyes.’ Maureen was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. ‘Our next project is to find some accessories.’

  ‘Now all I need is a reason to wear it.’

  ‘Kelsey, when was the last time you had a date?’Nolan asked.

  ‘That would be Scott, so about seven months ago.’

  Nolan closed his eyes, enjoying the healing magic Kelsey was performing on his neck. ‘We might have to do something about that.’

  Kelsey glanced over at Maureen, who stood grinning by the refrigerator.Maureen gave her a thumbs-up before reaching in for the orange juice.

  Nolan and Kelsey arrived at the Moy Electronics complex, both hoping to find an answer to the Gatekeeper problems they were experiencing by talking with the man who had designed it. Tall and rumpled, Bill Iverson met them in the main lobby and proceeded to give Kelsey and Nolan what he called ‘the nickel tour’ of the facility. Iverson showed them nothing classified, but the public spaces, research labs, and the automated production facility were enough to make Kilkenny consider updating his résumé. After the abbreviated tour, they settled down in a conference room to discuss their situation.

  ‘So, this is the dump you ran Wednesday?’ Iverson asked rhetorically as he slipped Kilkenny’s disk into the computer. ‘You got me thinking about something that I need to check.’

  Iverson loaded a split-screen editor onto the conference room’s computer. He then loaded the current generation of the Gatekeeper code on the left side and placed Kilkenny’s code on the right.

  ‘I’m going to run a simple text comparison of these two versions of the Gatekeeper program,’ Iverson explained. ‘This one on the left is the one our computer claims it installed on your device before it was shipped last January. I can understand someone goofing and forgetting to update the header, but let’s see what we’ve really got here.’

  Iverson issued the commands and the computer began a line-by-line comparison of the two programs. Four hundred lines into the comparison, Iverson halted the procedure. ‘I think I’ve seen enough to know that the program you got wasn’t what our computer says it sent you. Excuse me while I make a phone call.’

  Iverson dialed an inside line and asked the person on the other end to come over to the conference room.

  Kilkenny looked over the comparison with Newton while Iverson finished his phone call. ‘Bill, does this version of the program have any bearing on my hacker problem?’

  ‘This program by itself ? No, not at all.’ Iverson joined Kilkenny at the wall monitor. ‘In fact, if your Gatekeeper was running this program, I expect you would have called us months ago to ask for your money back.’

  ‘What do you mean “if”?’ Newton asked. ‘This is the program our Gatekeeper is running, isn’t it?’

  Iverson shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. This version was flawed, prone to crashing the system two or three times a day at the data-transfer rates you’re using. I checked around, and the only current use we have for the beta version is as a decoy to protect a similar device.’

  Before Iverson could elaborate, the conference room door opened and a heavyset older man in a gray suit entered, followed by a younger man in a dark blue suit.

  ‘Good morning, Professor Newton, Mr Kilkenny. My name is Cal Mosley and I’m with the CIA. My associate here is Dan Harmon of the FBI. The fact that Mr Iverson has asked us to join you means that your problem has just gotten a lot worse.’ Mosley then turned to Iverson. ‘Before we go any further, I think I should brief them on security with regard to the device.’

  ‘Now is as good a time as any,’ Iverson agreed.

  ‘It’s an understatement for me to say that everything you’re about to hear is classified.’Mosley then pulled out a copy of Kilkenny’s service record from his briefcase. ‘Actually, I was quite surprised to discover that you hold a security clearance almost as high as mine.’

  ‘I held a fairly high clearance as a SEAL,’ Kilkenny admitted modestly, ‘but I’m a civilian now.’

  ‘Nolan’—Mosley thumped the cover of the service record—‘your clearance,with all its privileges and responsibilities, has been reinstated to allow you to assist us in this investigation. Professor, your Department of Defence security clearance has been upgraded, as well.We’re going to tell you only what you need to know about the Spyder Project, and you are both bound by law not to reveal any of this information.’

  Security clearances, particularly high ones,weren’t the easiest credentials to
come by. Kilkenny and Newton nodded to each other. ‘We understand our obligations,’ Newton replied, speaking for them both. ‘What does this Spyder Project have to do with our hacker problem?’

  Iverson slid two color product brochures across the table. Each bore a nearly identical photograph of a black cube; one was titled Gatekeeper, while the other read Spyder.

  ‘Think of the Gatekeeper and the Spyder as opposite sides of the same coin. Both devices operate from the same basic kit of parts, but they use those parts a little differently. The Gatekeeper was designed to maintain a clean flow of information through a computer network, for legitimate users, while keeping undesirables off the system. For that latter aim, we built in a variety of tools the Gatekeeper could use to track and identify unauthorized users.’

  ‘I selected the Gatekeeper for its I/O handling capabilities,’ Kelsey added. ‘It was the only thing that could keep up with my processor.’

  ‘And that part seems to be working fine,’Nolan agreed.

  Iverson nodded and continued his explanation. ‘The Spyder takes this scenario one step further. The CIA is concerned with illegal technology transfers to nations considered unfriendly to the United States. Every once in awhile, a high-end computer mysteriously finds its way across the borders of one of these nations. A Spyder placed inside one of these computers would do everything the Gatekeeper is programmed to do, and more. Using the same algorithms, the Spyder could track its way out of the hostile computer network, looking for a way to call home and tell us what its host computer is up to. Once the Spyder made contact, it could be programmed to do all sorts of interesting things.’

  Kilkenny took in everything Iverson had said while studying the pictures of the two sibling devices; the black boxes were outwardly identical. ‘And you believe that one of these Spyders is sitting on our lab bench, hacking through the university network?’

  ‘After looking at this file you brought in, I’m sure of it.’