“That got you out?”
“It did, after I brought my boss into it.”
“Your boss? Who was that?”
“Now, he’s the president. But back then he was Congressman Joseph Meredith, a senior member of the military appropriations committee. He was the one who nominated me for the academy.”
“I see. So what went wrong with the worm?”
“The exact details are still classified. However, I can say that the worm was designed to attack and disable a specific type of dataprocessing component based on its software. I was told that the target data-processing component only existed in the sub’s fire-control system. Unfortunately, a recent upgrade to the dive-control system had added that same component and software. The worm caused that system to also be disabled, which caused the sub to hit the ocean floor at flank speed. The cause of the accident was found by the navy review board to be a mistake in the information we were given. After that I decided to never work on weaponized malware again.”
When they got back to the Hoover Building, Rick saw an email from Admiral Mancini that also copied Captain Kinsley.
“Looks like Captain Kinsley has agreed to be available anytime tomorrow. Does tomorrow afternoon at one work for you, James?”
“That’s fine.”
“Great. I’ll let them know. Now all I need to do is meet with the technical support folks to get everything set up.”
Rick called technical support, and James could see he was upset after he got off the phone.
“What’s wrong, Rick?”
“They said that interrogation rooms and monitoring systems require twenty-four-hour notice.”
“Did you tell them how important it is?”
“I did, but they didn’t care. Maybe they’ll care after I tell the director.”
Rick called Director Brockner, and after she interceded, Rick was informed that he’d have everything he needed for the scheduled interrogation.
“I’m going home to prepare my questions for Kinsley. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rick.”
James put his questions together and sent them to Rick in an email. He was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, he was awakened by a call from Rick.
“Hi, sleeping beauty. Are you still coming to the meeting?”
“I guess I overslept. Did you see my email?”
“I did, and I think it’s a good idea to eliminate him as a murder suspect at the beginning of the meeting so that he relaxes when we get to the tough stuff.”
“Great. I should be there by eleven thirty.”
When James got to Rick’s office, two techies were fitting Rick with a hidden earbud. It was linked to a wireless transmitter that James could use on the other side of the one-way glass.
Kinsley got to the office for the meeting shortly before one and was taken into the interrogation room where Rick was waiting. James sat in a darkened room on the other side of the one-way glass.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” Rick began. “I’m going to ask a series of questions. Please answer with a yes or no, but you can elaborate if you want. Okay, first question. Did you know Philip Wu?”
“Yes. I was very sad to hear of his death.”
“Were you involved in any way with his murder?”
“No. I was attending a retirement party at the Naval Academy Officer’s Club with at least one hundred other guests when it took place.”
“Did you attend a meeting at VSI headquarters with Philip Wu?”
“Yes.”
“Did you request Philip Wu to approve the sale of VSI technology to the US government?”
“Yes, but he refused.”
“Did you request Philip Wu to work as a consultant for the US government?”
“Yes. He refused.”
“Did Philip Wu later consult with Cyber Command and NSA on the development of advanced malware?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Did you or anyone else in the US government coerce Philip Wu into providing VSI product information to the government?”
“No.”
James communicated with Rick from behind the glass and asked him to present the questions he’d emailed.
“Is VSI technology currently being used by the government?”
“No,” Kinsley said, as he removed his glasses.
“Was Philip Wu coerced into working on the development of advanced malware?”
Kinsley looked down. “No,” he answered.
“Was Philip Wu coerced by anyone at NSA into developing such malware?”
“No,” Kinsley said, after some hesitation.
“Have you ever taken any action to coerce Philip Wu into developing malware for the government?”
Kinsley shifted in his chair and said, “No, I did not.”
“Okay, Captain, we’re done. You can go.”
Kinsley got up and quickly walked out without saying a word. James came out from the room and said, “I think you really shook him up on that second set of questions. It was obvious from his body language that he was lying—too bad we don’t have any tangible proof.”
“Actually, we do.”
Rick removed a small black box from underneath the conference room table.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a wireless polygraph. It recorded Kinsley’s pertinent physiological indices used to detect lies, such as respiration, heart rate, blood pressure, and vocal patterns. Some of the sensors are in this box. Others, such as hidden thermal and optical cameras and microphones, are built into the walls of the interrogation room. They connect to the black box via Bluetooth.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this yesterday?”
“Because I only found out about it this morning when the technical support guys set it up. It’s a gift to make up for their poor response yesterday and to soothe the director. It should provide a complete report of the interrogation in about thirty minutes. All I need to do is get them to pick it up and analyze the recorded data.”
Rick called technical support and two technicians removed the black box. Fifty minutes later, a single agent showed up with three hard copies of the report and a DVD.
“How accurate is the polygraph?” James asked the agent.
“It’s generally been more accurate than wired polygraphs, because the subject doesn’t know they’re being tested. This prevents them from trying to trick the machine. We tried to keep the technology secret, but unfortunately the internet and websites like YouTube have prevented that. It’s still experimental, and like other polygraphs, the results aren’t admissible as evidence.”
The agent went through the report and provided a summary of the results.
“The subject was being truthful when he answered the first seven questions. He wasn’t truthful about whether technology developed by VSI is being used by the government. The subject also wasn’t truthful on all of the remaining questions, except the question on whether the captain knew if Philip Wu had been coerced by anyone at NSA into developing malware. He may not have been lying, but he seemed uncertain of his answer.”
“Well, this shows Kinsley did lie about whether he personally coerced Philip into developing malware for the government.”
“Yes, Rick, but we don’t know how he was coerced. There are also some answers that don’t make sense. Kinsley truthfully answered ‘no’ to the question on whether Philip was coerced into providing information on VSI products to the government. However, the polygraph also said Kinsley lied when he denied that technology developed by VSI is currently being used by the government. That would mean VSI technology is being used by the government, but Philip wasn’t coerced into providing it. Philip wouldn’t do that unless he was coerced.”
“There’s another possibility, James. The information could’ve been provided by another source.”
“I have no idea who or what that would be. The technology being used in our products is locked away in an off-line storage system. Only Philip and I had access to that
information, given that we developed it together.”
“Maybe we should visit the crime scene at your partner’s house to see if the investigators missed something.”
“Yeah, but we need to bring Ann and Jim Wu. They know the house better than we do. I believe we’re missing some information and I believe Philip would’ve left behind some clues. We just need to find them.”
10
Dimitri was at a bar in Brighton Beach when the news conference about Senator Thompson’s autopsy came on the TV.
“Put the Knicks game on,” said Gustav, a well-known neighborhood bully. He was big and burly with tattoos all over his body.
“Don’t change it,” Dimitri said. “I want to see the news conference.”
“Sure, Dimitri, whatever you say,” the bartender responded.
Gustav grabbed the bartender and lifted him off the ground so they were face-to-face.
“I said I want to watch the Knicks game. I suggest you listen to me and not pretty boy over there. Is there anything you’d like to say to me, pretty boy?”
Dimitri probably seemed to be an easy target, since his boyish face and tall but slight stature didn’t appear to be very menacing. That was an error that many adversaries had committed in the past, to their regret.
“Let him go,” Dimitri ordered. “I asked him for the news.”
The bully released the bartender and walked to where Dimitri was sitting. He put his large hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, and looked down at him.
“Look, asshole, I’ve got money on that game. I suggest you leave before you’re carried out.”
Dimitri stood up and said, “You can watch the game after the news conference is over.”
The man took a swing as Dimitri moved quickly under the punch while wrapping his arm around the man’s neck from behind. The bully struggled to get free, but Dimitri held him tight and increased the pressure. He finally lost consciousness and Dimitri gently dropped him to the floor.
Everyone in the bar stared at Dimitri, talking quietly about the incident and how Dimitri disabled Gustav so quickly. All, that is, except the owner of the bar, a longtime friend of Dimitri. He was a pakhan or “godfather” in the Russian Bratva, the brotherhood that outsiders often called the Russian Mafia.
“Dimitri, let me buy you some good Russian vodka while my employees remove this piece of shit,” Marat Chubais said. Marat had been a friend of Dimitri’s father in Russia before the Chechen mafia killed him when Dimitri was only seven. Dimitri and Marat had served together during the fight against the Chechens, and both had emigrated to the US after the war ended. The pakhan was a stocky man with huge hands that had killed many Chechens back in Russia.
“How are you, Pakhan, and how’s your family?”
“They’re all doing well. I just need to find husbands for my daughters so I can have some peace in my house. By the way, my oldest daughter, Anya, is still unmarried. You two were close once.”
“That was a long time ago. How’s Anya doing?”
“She finished up her residency at Stony Brook Hospital and is now a practicing surgeon. She still comes home to visit at least twice a month. I’ll invite you for dinner next time she’s in town.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure as beautiful and smart as she is, she could do much better than me.”
“Nonsense. You could’ve been a great doctor if it hadn’t been for the Chechens. She was devastated when you left medical school to fight them.”
“I didn’t have much choice after what happened to my family, Pakhan.”
“I know. I loved your mother and your sister as I loved my family. Their deaths and the deaths of my sons were avenged many times over by the Bratva during the war, but that’s over now.”
“Pakhan, I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. Have you ever heard of anyone associated with the Bratva nicknamed the Big Man?”
“I’ve never heard that name, but I’ll see if anyone else has.”
Dimitri nodded as he picked up his glass of vodka and said, “Na sdarovie, my dear friend,” and drank the entire glass. He then slapped the pakhan on the back and said, “Do svidaniya,” as he walked out of the bar.
When Dimitri got back to his house, the news conference had finished, but the controversy created by the autopsy results was all over the news. He was disappointed that he’d used the wrong needle, but there was no way to do anything about it now. There was nothing in the senator’s medical records that identified the needle he used, only the medication. It was really the fault of the Big Man and his contacts. They had provided the needles.
Although Dimitri knew he couldn’t have anticipated this problem, he’d allowed for the possibility of a mistake by creating a diversion toward the Chinese embassy. There was no mention by the press of the business cards being found, but he was certain they must’ve been.
Dimitri needed to know whether the diversion worked before he could feel comfortable. He knew the best way to do that was to check it himself. That required surveillance of the Chinese intelligence agent whose identity he placed in the crosshairs. Dimitri contacted a representative of the Big Man by email to request a meeting. The response set it up for nine the next morning.
After being escorted to the conference room, one of the Big Man’s representatives asked him what he needed.
“I need to determine if the Chinese intelligence agent is being investigated for the senator’s murder.”
“We have no way of knowing that, Mr. Vasin. Trying to find a contact in the federal government right now, given the nature of the case, would be much too dangerous. It could draw suspicion instead of diverting it.”
“I know that. I plan to monitor the agent myself. I’m going to DC tonight to determine if he’s being questioned by the police or federal agents.”
“I need to contact the Big Man to see if that’s acceptable.”
“Okay, I’ll wait.”
The man came back in thirty minutes.
“It’s okay, as long as no overt action is taken against anyone and the surveillance is covert so you can’t be observed. We also want someone to assist you on this.”
“Why? I can handle it.”
“The target was very high profile and the job didn’t go exactly as planned. We realize that our choice of needles was a mistake, and we also sense your frustration about that. The Big Man just wants to make sure your frustration doesn’t cause you to be careless.”
“I’m never careless, but if that’s what the Big Man wants, then so be it. Where will I meet my assistant?”
“Her name’s Irina and she’ll meet you at your hotel. Email us your itinerary.”
“Fine, but I’ll need a GPS tracker to perform the surveillance. Please leave it in the storage locker in Arlington. I also need the address where the Chinese agent resides, the type of car he drives, and the license plate number.”
“You’ll have everything, including an encrypted email with the information you requested and your travel arrangements. Good day, Mr. Vasin.”
After arriving in Arlington and picking up his car and requested equipment, Dimitri drove to his hotel. While checking in, he saw an alert on the TV describing breaking news about the senator’s death. He went to his room, turned on the TV to the same news station, and waited.
A breaking-news banner suddenly appeared on the TV and a reporter made an enthusiastic reference to a “reliable rumor” that the DC police had identified a foreigner as a potential suspect. The reporter also included a statement from the DC police chief denying it. Dimitri knew he would need to be careful during his surveillance of the Chinese agent. It wouldn’t be good if he was detected by the police following the prime suspect.
The next morning, Dimitri unpacked the tiny GPS tracker while waiting for his assigned assistant. The thought of having to work with an assistant—or rather, a spy, as he viewed it—made him angrier the longer he waited. He inspected the tracker to relieve his tension.
Dimitri was familiar with the
technology, having used it during previous assignments. This one was much smaller and it had a magnetic base so it could be attached to a car. He was very impressed when he saw it also had a remote self-destruct capability.
He began syncing the tracker to his cell phone, when he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He opened the door and was greeted by an extremely attractive young woman.
“Hello, Dimitri, I’m Irina. The Big Man sent me. Can I come in?”
Dimitri pulled her in the room and looked up and down the hall to make sure she had not been seen.
“Did anyone ride up the elevator with you?”
“No, I ran up the stairs.”
“All fifteen floors?”
“Yes, I wanted to make sure no one was following.”
Dimitri smiled. “Well, I guess you’re in good shape. Where are you staying?”
“At the Marriott in Crystal City. I got in last night. What’s your plan for today?”
“First, show me some ID.”
Irina took out her driver’s license and handed it to Dimitri, who laughed. “Your last name is Putin?”
“I’m not related to the Russian president, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No, I was laughing because Putin is my parrot’s name. Okay, what do you know about the assignment?”
“Only that we’re to determine if the authorities have identified a Chinese diplomat named Zhou Ming as a suspect in the possible murder of the senate majority leader.”
“Good. I have the address for Ming’s residence. Do you have a car?”
“Yes, it’s in the garage.”
“Okay, you drive. I need to finish syncing this GPS tracker to my phone.”
Irina and Dimitri drove to Zhou Ming’s residence. It was an upscale apartment building in Georgetown that had been converted into residences for the Chinese diplomatic staff.
“Park near the residence parking area,” Dimitri ordered.
Irina found a place to park on the street, and Dimitri exited to find Ming’s car. He was back in fifteen minutes.
Cyber Countdown Page 14