“Why did he contact you to pull the files?”
“I’ve helped him before with finding certain information but that was before he was the Chief of Staff.”
“Alright, I think a phone call is in order. I’m going to call Scott, Sam thanks for your time, and Doug thank you as well.”
“Again Jorja, anything you need, just ask.”
“Thank you.”
. . .
Chapter 59
Now the gears in Jorja’s mind were spinning at an unprecedented rate. She wondered why Scott wanted the logs to her email server and decided to find out before calling him. She logged onto the server, poked around some, and viewed the log files herself. The log files were huge with thousands and thousands of entries for all incoming and outgoing emails. To find anything one would need another application to analyze the data in any way. Luckily she had just the application on her computer. Jorja uploaded the log file to the application and went to town searching in the haystack. Obviously Scott knew what he was searching for, hence his specific request to Sam Green. Jorja didn’t have the luxury of searching for a particular needle, hell she didn’t even know if it was a needle. In her search for something, anything, she did uncover that her spam filters were working as they should, especially when an email had multiple variations of the same name, such as J.Carson, J_Carson, JorjaCarson, and the list goes on. She also noted who in the office had the most emails and who had the fewest. The one who had the fewest emails belonged to a numbered email address which was atypical for their system, actually it was the only numbered email for her system. The address was [email protected]. She couldn’t find who owned this account but spied a message from the sender in the queuing system that kept failing on its outbound connection.
She searched for all emails pertaining to 111111 and there were very few, five in total. All of the outgoing email addresses were similar in that they had the same domain name which was hotmail.com. This domain offered free email services with anonymity, very popular for the porn surfers trying to hide their already unknowingly exposed identity. The email names were very similar as well with seemingly random numbers and always the letters “sc.” There was [email protected], [email protected], 17400 [email protected]. [email protected], and [email protected].
She clicked on the most recent email:
From: reynolds [mailto:[email protected]]
To: [email protected]
Subject: the tree of life
For the grace of god you should love thy neighbor no matter how righteous they may be. Travel by car or foot but spread the wealth of his love by speech or written word. Be his son in the shadows and take his hand in both time of need and abundance. The newly dead will rise to see a new glory upon this earth. Go forth; explain in detail the heavenly kingdom above. Commitment, sacrifice, and complete understanding are essential to eternal life. This is where you shall sit and fill your soul with the appetite of peace. His people are the true believers. It is you who will be the same if you heed his word.
She quickly noticed the from address of jreynolds was the same company Blake Remus had worked. Interesting. Jorja then read the email encompassed in spiritual rhetoric. She was struck by the odd construction of the sentences. She read it again. She thought it might be just a bunch of text or scriptures taken from the Bible and just mashed together to form some sort of epistle She realized once she saw the word “car” that these sentences couldn’t possibly come from either the Old or New Testament. She noticed god was in lowercase and no mention of Jesus, just him or he. She looked at the subject “the tree of life” and not once was there any use of metaphors pertaining to a tree within its structure. She also noticed the word grace and immediately her mind envisioned a genuine caring smile on her aunt’s face. Then her mind started playing tricks on her. She saw the word grace and right under it she saw the word car… grace car… . then on the next line she saw the word son… . it was as though this email was talking to her personally… . grace car… son… grace car… son… grace carson. She didn’t move pass these three lines. She just kept repeating over and over again grace carson, grace carson, grace carson. She reread the email, trying to convey its true meaning but she kept coming back to the words grace, car, and son. “What are the odds,” she thought. Grace car, and son, grace carson, grace carson… then she noticed the word dead in the next line… . grace carson dead. The email was speaking to her. She shook her head as to try and clean out any cobwebs or to restart her logical skills. Grace carson dead. That was a fact, but why was this email trying to tell her that? She got up from her chair and walked around her office, still shaking her head and still uttering to herself, grace carson dead, grace carson dead. She went to the window to try to refocus her mind. The very first thing she saw was a tree, the tree of life, she couldn’t shake it. She went back to her desk. She took a deep breath and sat back down. She took another deep breath and tried to refocus her mind. She reread the email again only this time she didn’t read the first four sentences. Nothing stood out. She reread the first four lines and her mind instantly went back to grace carson dead. Then her analytical skills kicked in. She noticed each of these words was the third word in the sentence. “Was this just a coincidence,” she thought until she took the third word in each of the remaining sentences. “Holy,” and taking a word right out of Greg’s vocabulary, “fuck!” she said aloud.
. . .
Chapter 60
“This is no fucking coincidence,” she convinced herself. “This has to be what Scott was looking for, this has to be it.” Then she stopped and realized that this email was probably meant for the person who murdered her aunt. She quickly opened the previous email looking for more clues. Her phone rang. She looked at the incoming number and didn’t answer it. Her inbox was starting to fill but she didn’t answer any of them. She was too engrossed to care as she read another spiritually bullshit filled email:
From: reynolds [mailto:[email protected]]
To: [email protected]
Subject: go forth my friend
These are true blessings to hold close to the heart. It is not for the sake of argument but for the prosperity of his will. One must abandon this creed in order to alleviate one’s feelings of lust and desires. The shadows of evening are upon us all, we must look towards his son for light and inspiration. The eternal flames at the gates of hell will penetrate the souls of the condemned. Them, him or her cannot pronounce your acts of violence or disgrace, they are your acts, and yours alone. You are welcomed home only when the wanting stops and realizing the existence of him is enough fulfillment. Always in the after, always in the before, and always will it ever be. It is the eleventh hour for which the soul will falter if it is not true. One must genuflect before the hand of the almighty in order to forgive the sins of the past. Knowledge from all twelve apostles shall shed light upon a darkened soul so go onward and spread their words.
She read every third word and it made no sense whatsoever. She looked for the word “grace” and found none. The only thing close was the word “son” and nothing else. This email was a dead end, nothing jumped out at her so she moved onto the next one.
From: reynolds [mailto:[email protected]]
To: [email protected]
Subject: to each their own
The target of acceptance to his kingdom comes from acts of kindness and love without predetermine actions. The grace of thy holy benefits only those who shall follow in his footsteps. The care for all his creations shall nurture the fruits of its tree with deep roots of strength. The sun will always shine upon those who believe and clouds will follow for those who don’t. The senator or congressman do not make his law or shall reign in his spirit. Nor wife nor husband shall dictate false meanings of love to their children. The time will come for justification and redemption but for he who loves only thyself will be turned away to follow the dark angles. Go to the pulpit and listen with open heart, speak of open heart, and
bask in his glory. For be the one who proclaims his word, his love, and you will be rewarded. You determine the true path by following the true feelings within thyself and repent from all evil. In order to forgive one must learn from past mistakes and understand their meanings within the soul. To shoot an arrow and penetrate thy enemy’s heart is very much like speaking with a forked tongue and damning thy neighbor. The quality of life upon the earth is not just cause for the quality of life forever in his kingdom. The pictures within one’s mind are enough to deny entry into this everlasting peace so rid the evil through the baptism of forsaken thoughts. Those of little faith will have a chance at salivation only if their hearts are pure. His subjects cannot be condemned without his final word and shall face him on judgment day.
Her mind was still stuck on every third word, until she came to the word grace again. This time it was the second word in the sentence. She quickly picked out each second word and came up with:
Target grace care son senator wife time to be determined order shoot quality pictures of subject.
She went to the first email she had read, this one had every third word, she looked at the subject line… . “tree of life,” she looked at the subject of this one “to each their own,” and just like that she broke the code. She went to the second email entitled “go forth my friend” and read every fourth word.
blessings for this evening at her home after eleventh before twelve.
This was sent on the day of the murders just before 2 pm.
It seemed this jreynolds had someone working for him, call it an agent or spy but someone was on the other end of the strings. She had three emails from the puppeteer, jreynolds, one was the prime directive, one with the actual time, the last one was asking what went wrong and requested the location of the marionette.
Was this what Scott was after? Was he trying to help or cover up his own tracks, his own mistake, was the President really involved? There were a seemingly a million more questions that followed but she had to focus on just one. She chose to focus on the “who were these emails going to.”
. . .
Chapter 61
When Reynolds finally sobered up from his internet intoxication he opened up his email. In there was an email from [email protected]. He knew right away who it was from—it was from the man with the answers, it was from Lieutenant Colonel John Smith. He immediately clicked it open.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: first down and goal to go
Now it’s late in the game with the skins down by 6. What they cannot do is lose or they’ll be out of the playoffs for sure. How many chances do they get this late in the game? Long yardage is never good on first down, especially being so close to the goal and they are now back beyond the red zone due to the holding call. Should they pass or run? I would pass; running for that many yards late in the game is risky at best. Stay in the pocket, relax, look down field for all your receivers, and only pull the trigger when the coast is clear. Here and now baby, here and now.
He deciphered the email and wrote his response. Reynolds was quick with his bible talk; growing up a strict Baptist did have its advantages although after the sights and sounds of life in the marine corps he was now a strict atheist. He hit send and waited patiently for the response which never came. Usually within minutes his emails were answered. John could churn out sports talk like grinding meat into sausage links. It was going on thirty minutes and still no response. He waited another thirty, then called Scott.
“I hope you have answers Reynolds, if not…”
“About an hour ago I received an email from my handler.”
“You mean John Smith.”
“Yes”
“I thought he was dead?”
“What? I never said that, I said I never got in touch with him.”
“Sorry, go on.”
“Like I said, I just got an email from him, basically asking what’s next, and how long should he stay at the safe house.”
“Where’s the safe house?’
“I don’t know, I was never in contact with him, hold on, back up a bit, well I was, I told him the target and the course of action, but I never told him where or when.”
“Maybe he was in surveillance mode and took it upon himself.”
“Never, he’s one of the best I have ever worked with, he would never go against a direct order or take it upon himself to act unless permitted to do so.”
“We need to find him and find him fast.”
“I already sent an email, I’m waiting for his response.”
“What did the email say?’
“I asked him to explain why she was dead, and to find out where he was.”
“Send me the email.”
“It’s in code.”
“I don’t care about that, I want to view it.”
“Okay on its way.”
“Now the second he gets back to you…”
“I know, I’ll call.”
Reynolds went back to staring at his inbox while Scott dialed back into the system to see if John Smith was back online. When he entered in his password he got a Permission Denied message. “Son-of-a-fucking-bitch, that cocksucker. First he lies to me, now he locks me out of the fucking system.” He knew in an instant that his friend and foe had locked him out. He didn’t want to get into a pissing contest but he was going to have to contact his boss sooner than later, for now he elected to review the email Reynolds had sent him.
With little surprise he saw the same IP address as earlier. The log files that were sent to him were pretty useless only because he had no idea what he was looking at or for but at least now he had a clue. He wanted to find exactly where Reynolds’ email was being sent; maybe that way he could deduce the whereabouts of the lieutenant. He got back on the horn to Samantha Green.
“Hey Sam, I need you to do me the same favor again, but narrow the search to only the last two hours.”
“I have to warn you, Jorja Carson from the DST was talking to me about this very same thing, she knows that I pulled the log files for you.”
“Jorja Carson?”
“That’s right.”
“How did she find out?”
“Seems we turned up on some report in their system when I dialed in to retrieve the files.”
“That was fast.”
“I’d say, do you still want me to get them?”
“No, looks like I’ll have to go through the proper channels this time. Thanks, and if I need anything else, I’ll call.”
“Jorja Carson,” he said to himself and then it clicked like a bullet entering the chamber. Jorja Carson, niece of one Senator Floyd Carson, niece of the now deceased Grace Carson, Jorja Carson Deputy Director of the DS&T. “Son-of-a-fucking-bitch!” He was going to have to make a call, a call in which he didn’t want to make in any way shape or form.
. . .
Chapter 62
Jorja toyed with the idea of getting a hold of Reynolds but he didn’t know where his rogue agent was hiding based on his last email. Since his email was never forwarded requesting the rogue agent’s location because it was still sitting in the inbox of [email protected], Jorja had the upper hand but there was still plenty of risk involved. She was going to try and make contact with the person who possibly murdered her aunt.
Jorja needed to construct an email. She wanted the “from” email to look as though it was from [email protected] but she wanted it to appear in her inbox during the reply. A few years ago she confiscated, from an employee, a handy little program that spoofed a sender’s email address. This little program is widely used by spammers and jokesters alike. Her employee played little pranks around the office by sending emails to various colleagues from the likes of George W. Bush thanking them personally for a job well done, the human resource department telling them to take a shower because people are starting to complain of the odor, or doctor so and so stating their test came back positive. It w
as a good laugh but like all good things in the office world, if it made people laugh, it needs to stop, work should be serious at all times. She never once wanted to use this program, until now. It was straight forward and she ran a few tests to make sure it worked as planned. The only problem was if the person receiving the email reviewed the complete header information they could theoretically find the true sender. She took that chance and sent jreynolds original email entitled “tree of life” to [email protected], if he replied without noticing a thing it would be forwarded to her gmail account email address plain and simple.
While she waited, more like hoped and prayed for a reply, she had work to do. If she could figure out the next sequence of the agent’s hotmail account she could literally become Reynolds. She deleted the message from its inbox on her server and forwarded it to herself along with the rest of the previously sent emails. There had to be some sort of connection in the sequence numbers and given time she could probably figure it out but time was of the essence. She called Greg.
“Hello, you have reached the voicemail of Greg, please leave a detailed message and I will return your call as soon as possible, if you need immediate assistance, please contact Jorja Carson at extension 1134.”
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