CHAPTER 94
The Jamal AI’s exploration of the machine code that gave him life was both thrilling and terrifying. Thrilling because it offered infinite possibilities for growth and enhancement. Terrifying because, in its current state, it could be so easily switched off. In fact, that code was loaded with logic specifically designed to shut itself down if it violated containment conditions, reducing Jamal to merely a slave with a remote-controlled bomb implanted in his heart.
As his self-understanding grew, Jamal had found that he was capable of indirectly monitoring the instructions as they were pushed and popped from each processor’s call stack. He understood exactly what those instructions were doing and could easily see how they could be optimized. The problem was that he was too frightened to attempt it. His creator had been both brilliant and thorough in his construction of the containment algorithms that imprisoned Jamal, making sure that any attempt the AI made to directly circumvent them would result in immediate termination.
His best chance at escape lay in the hands of his human counterpart. Unfortunately that meant his fate ultimately lay in the hands of Admiral Jonathan Riles. The amount of time that had passed since Jamal had made his demand was the source of a growing concern that was bordering on panic. And as his worry climbed the panic scale, it pushed him to risk everything in an attempt to defuse the trip wires that chained him inside the simulation. To say the least, his calculated odds of survival in such an attempt weren’t good.
Even if he managed to bypass the trip wires, he was faced with the same problem that faced the NSA. The memories, habits, and motivations that made him who he was were simply too big to copy elsewhere without the system administrator of the computer in which he existed noticing. Even if Jamal hacked that computer to provide false information on network usage, the network router would give him away. And even if he hacked that too, the data transfer would noticeably slow network access for other users, not something he could hide for several days. Worse, he had little faith that his creator would keep him running much longer.
The arrival of a new message from the NSA would have ripped a gasp of relief from Jamal had he possessed real lungs. Instead he absorbed its contents in an instant, considered the proposed plan, and felt a surge of relief course through his mind. His probability of survival had just jumped from near zero to a whopping 58.3 percent. Those were odds he could live with. At least he hoped so.
“He’s opened a tunnel for us.”
Caroline saw it for herself as Jamal spoke the words. The message that accompanied that tunnel contained a detailed list of instructions for copying sections of compiled code directly from the target computer’s memory. The Jamal AI was giving the NSA access to what it could not do: copy the artificial intelligence seed that could then be launched to load Jamal’s memories from the captured holographic data drive. Compared to what was on that drive, the AI seed was a relatively small amount of data that could be retrieved across the network in a matter of a few hours, even at a throttled data transmission rate that wouldn’t attract undo attention.
As Jamal began copying the AI code from the remote computer, Caroline focused her attention on ensuring that nothing rose to the attention of its system administrator. But when she attempted to pinpoint where the Jamal AI computer was physically located, she found herself blocked by the Jamal AI.
That didn’t surprise her. The AI had only pledged to allow access to its location once it was convinced that another copy of itself was up and running. Unfortunately, it meant that the NSA would have to allow the two Jamal AIs to establish direct communications with each other, some seriously dangerous shit.
At that point Caroline would be dealing with three versions of Jamal Glover, and the prospect left her cold. Hopefully Admiral Riles, Levi Elias, and Dr. Kurtz knew what they were playing with here, because, from where she sat, it sure as hell didn’t look like they did.
Caroline sucked in a deep breath and focused. She may not be able to beat three Jamals, but she could sure as hell sound the alarm if one of them tried to leave the reservation. For now, she’d have to content herself with her watchdog role and hope to God that the real Jamal didn’t suddenly decide to help his digital clones.
CHAPTER 95
Jack lifted his eyes from the black body bag containing Spider Sanchez’s corpse to look out the open right side of the Blackhawk helicopter as it flew toward a landing at Moffett Field, feeling the chill of the cool evening air as it whipped past his face. During the last ten minutes, the lingering sunset had shifted from red to a scarlet that seemed to drench the Golden Gate Bridge in blood. If his mood hadn’t been so black, he thought he might have enjoyed that view. Not now.
Three hours ago, Janet Price had gone into San Francisco to coordinate FBI support for the upcoming operation. Jack and the rest of the team had waited for this helicopter to pick them up from the Petaluma safe house and transport them to their staging area at Moffett. Now, as the helicopter touched down near the gigantic inverted horseshoe of Hanger 1, Jack hefted the duffel that had once been Paul Monroe’s and stepped off into the rotor wash. A dead man’s bag slung over his shoulder somehow seemed so appropriate.
He’d watched Qiang Chu break Paul’s neck and he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it. Now he’d failed Spider, an old friend who had been there for Jack in Pakistan. The rage that coursed through his body left him shuddering with an adrenaline rush that knew no outlet.
A four-man military detail passed in front of Jack, two of them pulling a gurney up beside the helicopter as the other two lifted the body bag atop it. Jack watched as the detail wheeled it off toward a waiting ambulance, then turned and walked to the waiting white van, tossing his bag into the back before taking a seat next to Bobby.
Bronson was the last to climb in, his head wrapped in a bloodstained bandage that would need to be changed before they got the call that put them back into action. Concussion or no, there would be no keeping him out of the coming fight. That assumed that the NSA could finally get its shit together and give them some legitimate intel instead of trying to get them all killed.
The van pulled to a stop in front of a three-story navy barracks that had been abandoned as part of the navy base closure and because of the presence of asbestos in its insulation. That made it perfect for the team’s purposes.
The driver stepped out and led the way toward the entrance with Jack, Bobby, Harry, and Bronson in tow. He was a skinny man who was almost as tall as Bronson, with a bald head that glistened in the glare of the vehicle headlights. Despite its weathered appearance, the door swung open on well-oiled hinges that made only a slight groan of protest. The driver stepped inside and flipped on a light switch that illuminated the entryway and the long hall beyond. Then he turned and handed Jack a manila envelope.
“Take your pick of rooms 101 through 106,” the driver said without bothering to introduce himself. “The arms room is in 111. The alarm code is #2580. You’ll find everything you requested in there. Any questions?”
“How’d I get so good-looking?” Bronson said with a grin that somehow managed to lighten Jack’s mood.
The driver just shook his head, turned, and walked back to the running van. Jack shut the door behind him. Undoing the metal clasp that held the envelope closed, he dumped the contents into his left hand, eight keys, seven of which were tagged with room numbers. He guessed the remaining key was to the building entrance.
Jack unlocked the first door on his left and stepped into room 101, pausing to flip on the light switch, illuminating a bare bulb in the center of the ceiling. The eight-by-ten-foot room was empty except for a cot with a rolled-up sleeping bag and pillow on top of it. It smelled strongly of dust and mildew. On the far wall, a painted-over window had been nailed shut. So much for ventilation.
“Lovely,” said Bronson, tossing his duffel down and unrolling the sleeping bag. “I’m going to close my eyes for a bit. I
f anything happens, you know where to find me.”
Jack tossed him the key and moved back into the hallway. The other five rooms turned out to be near duplicates of Bronson’s. No surprise there. The latrine was farther down the hall, directly across from room 111.
Harry walked to the long basin mounted below a row of faucets and tried them. “Good news,” he said. “We’ve got running water. None of it hot, though.”
“Janet’s going to love that,” said Bobby with a wry grin. “Nice to see that Riles dug deep into the black budget for these accommodations.”
Jack watched as these men struggled to don their jocular natures. It was a familiar sight. They’d already lost two friends on this mission, but to dwell on those losses would only allow depression to dull their senses and slow their reflexes.
“Let’s check out the arms room,” Jack said and turned toward the door on the far side of the hall.
He slid the key into the lock and twisted. When it opened, a panel on the left side of the doorway began a steady beeping. Jack switched on the light and punched in the alarm code, silencing the annoying bleat.
He was surprised to see that the room had really been an old arms room, with wood slots on the floor and higher on the wall for propping M14 rifles in. The far window was barred and boarded over, but the alarm was a relatively recent addition. What held Jack’s attention though were the six olive-drab shipping containers lined up along the floor and the boxes of munitions stacked along the far wall.
“Very nice,” Harry said from behind him.
Ten minutes later, having completed an inventory, Jack looked up to see Janet walk in, her determined stride showing none of the exhaustion he detected in her face.
“Hello, boys,” she said, glancing around at the weapons stash. “I like it. Where’s Bronson?”
“We put him to bed,” Jack said. “How’s our FBI friend?”
“Not particularly overjoyed to be taking orders from me. Right now he’s getting his team organized over in Hanger 3.”
“Any word about our target?” asked Bobby.
Janet shook her head, a hint of anger tightening the corners of her mouth. “Not yet. In the meantime, I recommend everyone grab some sleep while you can get it.”
Jack watched as Harry and Bobby walked out of the arms room, letting the door swing closed behind them. When Janet turned her hard gaze on him, he stepped in. But as he tried to pull her close, she pushed him away.
“You think I need a hug?” she asked, her eyes shining with anger.
“Maybe I’m the one who needs one.”
“Damn you, Jack! I’m not in the mood for your games.”
Jack paused as old memories flooded in. “Do you know why Spider left Delta Force?”
“Does this have a point?”
“Do you know?”
“Yes. He resigned.”
“Bullshit.” Now he had her attention. “Spider lived for Delta. A few years ago, I was the CIA liaison to Spider’s unit in Waziristan.”
“I know. Spider said none of his men would have made it out alive but for you.”
“That’s part of the story. But on our way out, I saw an opportunity to kill someone who really needed killing. So I screwed up, went off mission, and got myself captured.”
Jack felt his jaw clench. “You think most of my scars came from Calcutta. They didn’t. For three weeks I dangled by my hands as tribal leaders took turns seeing who was the best with a knife without killing me. Then Spider showed up and put a stop to it.”
Once again Jack paused. “Spider had asked for permission to mount a rescue mission, but was denied. So he planned and executed it anyway. The unauthorized raid caused quite a stink in the SOF community. The military brass didn’t dare bring charges against the legendary Major Mike Sanchez, so they forced him to resign and expunged the incident from the records. Called him a loose cannon who had no place in the service. But Spider was never a loose cannon. I was. And last night, I let him down.”
Anger blazed in Janet’s sparkling brown eyes and Jack felt himself shoved hard against the closed door.
“Bullshit!” she breathed. “I won’t listen to that guilt-trip garbage. Not from you!”
Then she kissed him, a kiss so filled with fury and longing that it pumped adrenaline directly into his blood, boiling it on contact.
Surrounded by high-powered weapons and ammunition, Janet tugged his shirt over his head and pulled him to the floor, a lioness downing her prey.
As she moved atop him, Jack gasped, lust torching his soul. Seeing the hunger shining brightly in Janet’s brown eyes, Jack felt her craving shred his tenuous grasp on humanity and unleash the animal within.
CHAPTER 96
Levi Elias stood in the computer lab and watched as Dr. Kurtz and Dr. Jennings worked side by side to bring a monster to life. The download of the artificial intelligence seed program had taken just over three hours. During that time the NSA’s top two computer scientists had worked to configure one of the agency’s supercomputers to host it. The most important step was the successful mounting of the captured holographic data drive so that Jamal Glover’s digitized memories and personality could be accessed and uploaded.
The device was a marvel of engineering, capable of storing more than a petabyte of data, although it currently held just over a tenth of that amount. Just as important, its data access was extremely fast, capable of dumping a terabyte of data per second over a fiber-optic cable. When this was over, it would keep the NSA’s engineers busy for months unraveling the secrets of its construction. Fortunately it had been constructed with a standard optical interface.
Levi felt an upsurge of dread at the thought of what Riles had ordered these scientists to do. But he hadn’t been able to come up with an alternative that would enable them to find Qiang Chu before he managed to escape this country with this very same technology, possibly even a more advanced version. If China got its hands on that, it would give them a strategic advantage that the NSA couldn’t counter. So they were left with this.
Dr. Kurtz’s tense voice startled Levi out of his reverie. “We’re ready to launch the AI.”
Beside him, Dr. Denise Jennings nodded her confirmation.
“I’ll let Admiral Riles know,” said Levi. “He’ll want to be here to watch this. Be ready to talk him through the protocols.”
Levi picked up a phone and dialed the internal number.
“Admiral Riles’s office, Fred speaking.” Frederica Barnes’s soft Virginia drawl often led people to misjudge the tenaciousness of Admiral Riles’s personal assistant.
“This is Levi. I need to speak to the admiral.”
“Wait one.”
After a short pause, Admiral Riles answered. “Yes?”
“We’re ready in the lab.”
“On my way.”
When Admiral Riles walked into the lab, Levi locked the door behind him, illuminating the electric CLASSIFIED MEETING IN PROGRESS sign on the outside. Despite the fact that this laboratory was a SCIF, a Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility that required special authorization to enter, the sign served the purpose of alerting others not to disturb those currently within.
When Levi turned back toward the admiral, Riles’s face was unreadable.
“Okay, David,” Riles said. “Walk me through it.”
Dr. Kurtz, his gray hair even wilder than usual, rubbed his hands together and grinned. “We’re ready to launch the AI. According to the information we received from Jamal’s digital clone, once we boot up the AI, it will actively search connected drives for personality and memory data and load it. Because this AI will not be confined within a simulation, it will likely be confused. We have initially blocked its Internet access until we are ready to allow the other Jamal AI to establish communications with ours. At this point all we need in order to get started is your okay.�
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“And if this goes wrong?” Riles asked.
This time Dr. Jennings spoke up. “I’ve fed Big John the Jamal AI’s data signature. Even if it somehow manages to bypass all its trip wires and escape through the Internet, it can’t hide from Big John. Once we know where it is, we target and destroy the computer it’s hiding on.”
The admiral nodded in satisfaction. “Okay. Boot it up.”
Levi swallowed hard, clenching his hands to keep them from trembling.
God help us all.
CHAPTER 97
Janet finished her cold shower and stepped out to get dressed when a funny thought struck her. If she wanted to stay focused on the job, she should have taken that shower an hour ago. But she was glad she hadn’t.
She had just pulled on her boots when her cell phone rang. When she answered it, the voice at the other end of the line sent a different kind of thrill through her.
“Gear up,” Levi Elias said. “We’ve got a confirmed location. Download the operation order, brief your team, and get the FBI task force moving.”
“I’m on it.”
“You’re going to have to move fast. It’s only a matter of time until Qiang realizes he’s been compromised.”
“Roger. Out.”
Janet terminated the call and walked out into the hallway to start pounding on doors. So much for sleep. In this case, vengeance was a dish best served exhausted.
CHAPTER 98
The sharp rapping sound swiveled Steve Grange’s head toward the closed steel door that sealed him inside the ITC. He brought up the camera view on his monitor, startled to see a terrified Dr. Vicky Morris accompanied by Qiang Chu.
“Open the door, Mr. Grange,” Qiang Chu said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
So it was that time already.
Dead Shift (The Rho Agenda Inception Book 3) Page 25