The Traitor's Revenge (Wallis Jones Series 2016)

by Martha Carr

  The back door opened and Ned ran out to the car with Laurel close behind him. Joe barked and leaped out the back door running past Laurel to nip at Ned’s heels.

  “Mom, Mom! Are you alright? Laurel told me about your accident!” he yelled through the glass on her side. Wallis slowly opened the door and got out of the car wrapping her good arm around her son as he hugged her tight. “I was so scared,” he said, as he began to cry.

  “He was fine right up until the moment he saw your face,” said Laurel. “Are you okay?”

  “My shoulder has seen better days but it’ll be alright. I could use a hot bath and a drink. You think you might stay overnight?” asked Wallis.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” said Laurel.

  Chapter Eight

  Wallis made a makeshift sling out of a Chanel scarf that had the large, gold interlocking C emblem against a red background. Her mother had given it to her in one of the familiar Christmas boxes a few years ago.

  “Is this homage to Harriet or another defiant gesture?” asked Norman.

  “I can’t decide. You know, it was a lot easier to know how I felt about her when I could make her one-dimensional. Finding out she’s full of spit and vinegar is really throwing me off,” said Wallis. Wallis was propped up on her side of the bed with her arm resting on top of a pillow.

  Ned lifted his head from where it was once again buried against his mother’s good shoulder.

  “What?” said Ned.

  “Nothing,” said Wallis. “I was complimenting your grandmother.”

  “You must be okay if you’re making jokes,” said Ned. “Where’s Laurel?”

  Wallis smiled and kissed her son’s forehead. “She’s gone to bed, you wore her out. It’s about time you were asleep too, young man.”

  “I could help, you know. I heard what you were saying about a thumb drive,” said Ned. Wallis glanced over at Norman who shook his head, no.

  “I know you could help and I appreciate it. But, at least for now, your dad and I are going to try to muddle through.”

  “But,” said Ned, “you’ll get stuck just trying to open the file.”

  “I’ll probably get stuck trying to put the right end into the drive. I’ll make you a promise,” said Wallis, not looking at Norman, “if we get stuck, I’ll ask for your help. Okay? Go brush your teeth.”

  Wallis insisted on climbing the stairs to Ned’s room and sitting by his bed till he fell asleep. Joe was curled up on his dog bed and raised his head when Wallis sat down.

  “Good boy,” she said, gently patting the dog’s head. “You watch over him, okay?”

  She gently rubbed Ned’s back in the semi-darkness and felt her body sag with exhaustion. Ned started gently snoring and Wallis shifted her weight slowly to get up without disturbing him. She leaned back down to move a strand of wet hair off of his forehead and take one last, long look at her son’s face before she left the room.

  “What are you doing?” asked Norman, who had appeared in the doorway.

  “Trying to figure a way out of this mess,” said Wallis.

  “Do you mind if I ask what your wish list is?”

  “Not to make Ned pay for any stupid mistakes that are made by the grownups.” Wallis straightened up and winced as her shoulder jiggled. “That and a new shoulder.”

  “We need to get that looked at,” said Norman.

  “You ever actually pray?” asked Wallis. As she walked toward Norman he held his arms open wide like he had in the chapel. She could remember him doing this for her at least once a day every year they’d been married.

  He gently enfolded her in his arms and said, “I don’t know. The good Reverend tries to encourage me to at least talk to God but he may be just trying to fill a quota.”

  “Jokes in the middle of people trying to kill us,” whispered Wallis. “Nice.”

  “I believe it’s one of the perks of marriage,” said Norman.

  “Tell me true, Norman. Do you believe there’s a way out of all of this?”

  Norman let out a deep sigh and Wallis felt his shoulders give way just a little. “I have no idea,” he said, “All I know is to do the next thing in front of me and let the rest go. But that’s what’s been a nagging worry, all along.”

  “What?” asked Wallis, turning in his embrace so that her back was against his chest and she could see the outline of her son, sleeping peacefully in his bed.

  “I’m a little concerned about what’s down the road. Can’t help it. Things haven’t always worked out so well for Weiskopfs. I just can’t believe it could be that simple. Let it go and things work out.”

  “Norman, what if we do need Ned’s help?”

  “No,” said Norman, in a loud whisper. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. No, we do our best not to drag a nine year old boy into this. Let him live in peace a little longer.”

  “He’s in the middle of it already, Norman. I don’t think it’s going to be about if, but how much and when.” Wallis thought she heard Norman swallowing down something and she turned back around to face him. “Hey, none of this is your doing or your fault.”

  “You didn’t feel that way a few hours ago,” said Norman.

  “I know and I’m sorry about that,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “I made a mistake, Norman. I built this whole idea up in my head that you were somehow superhuman and would never have a good reason to keep anything from me.”

  “Can’t I have both?” asked Norman.

  Wallis breathed in deeply. “Sure, I can try that too.”

  “Too? What’s the other new idea?”

  “That you might be right. We can still be happy.” Wallis felt dragged down by worry.

  “We need to get a look at what’s on that thumb drive,” said Norman.

  “Use my computer,” said Ned, as his head popped up from his bed.

  “How long have you been awake, young man?” asked Wallis, startled.

  “Just now,” said Ned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Come on, Mom. Besides, if they encrypted it by hiding the real data underneath something else, you won’t be able to find it. That’s what I’d do if I was trying to hide something.”

  “Where did you learn something like that in the first place, Ned?” asked Norman.

  “I’m a little afraid of that answer,” said Wallis.

  Ned rolled his eyes as he kicked off the covers and crawled out of his bed. He was wearing his favorite pajamas that had the phrase Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency printed in binary code all over. Wallis had found them online and when they showed up even Ned was impressed that she got the inside joke. She looked at her young son in his pajamas and thought about how vulnerable he looked.

  “You people worry too much,” he said. “Kids talk at school. We’re not stupid you know and some of the guys at the job showed me some cool spy gear.”

  “When did we become, you guys?” asked Norman. “And what job? Have I been working that much lately?”

  “He’s talking about Computer City. I’ve been letting him hang out with the Mobile Geeks on the occasional Friday,” said Wallis.

  “When I get my homework done early, it’s our deal,” said Ned, as he turned on his computer and got himself situated in front of the screen. “I fix computers,” said Ned, “and sometimes during our break the guys will show me the newest stuff.”

  “Guys?” asked Norman. “More guys?”

  “Really, Norman, this is the least of our worries right now,” whispered Wallis. “Focus. He’s talking about some twenty-something guys who repair computers for a living. Ned usually ends up showing them a thing or two and I think we’re about to have him do the same thing for us.”

  “It’s called steganography. Hiding stuff should be easy.”

  “Stega what? I’m already lost,” said Wallis.

  “Very funny, Mom,” said Norman.

  Ned smiled softly at Wallis. “I told you he had a high opinion of you,” whispered Norman.

  �
��In coding all of the code is actually invisible. An image or an audio file is just a code that some software knows how to interpret into an image or song. You know, there’s always data included in those files, metadata where you can put information like the artist’s name, album, song title, bitrate, beats per minute. All that kind of stuff.”

  “All what kind of stuff?”

  “The stuff I just listed, Mom, pay attention. You can attach whatever you want in the metadata. It’ll be invisible until something knows how to read it.”

  “What’s the something?” asked Norman

  “Like an MP3 on a computer. You’d also need audio playing software. All those softwares know how to read that stuff.”

  “I get about every third word of what you’re saying but I think I’m hanging in there,” said Wallis.

  Ned let out a snort and laughed. Joe barked and ran in a small, tight circle, which made Ned laugh harder. Wallis was grateful that he didn’t understand how much danger surrounded all of them. If Esther or Helmut were to be believed a lot of it circled right around her son.

  “When somebody plays the song they wouldn’t know anything had been added or changed and it would be impossible for them to know what’s in the metadata.”

  “Is it possible to hide a message from someone who’s looking for it?

  “Sure, that’s easy. You create additional tags that the software isn’t looking for and the information would just sit there until something asks for it.”

  “What’s a tag?” asked Norman.

  “Just a line of information. The stuff someone’s trying to hide.”

  “What if we don’t have the software?” asked Wallis.

  “We download it, don’t worry, Mom. I’ve got this. Hold on.” Ned went to his backpack and pulled out an orange thumb drive. “Barry gave me some software when we were talking about it. I was hoping I’d get the chance to try it out but I wasn’t sure how to find some really good metadata. Who knew it’d be my mom,” he said laughing.

  Wallis felt her stomach tighten.

  “Ned, hold on just a second. I need to ask your dad something. Norman?” she said, signaling him to follow her to the hallway. “Look, I’m having second thoughts about this. You were right. He’s just a little boy. He doesn’t understand at all, which is how I’d like to keep it. If he even remotely started to catch on I don’t think he’d ever sleep again.”

  “Someone tried to kill you tonight, Wallis,” said Norman, keeping his voice low. “We don’t know if they’re planning to try again or who they’ll target next.”

  The color drained from Wallis’ face. “Do you think they’d go after Ned?”

  “I have no idea but I’m hoping that drive tells us something. We need to get ahead of them just a little. We aren’t exactly handy with a gun. All we have going for us is information but we have to be able to get at it.”

  “Should we be trying to hide?” asked Wallis.

  “Hide where? Of all the people in the world you and Ned are the most recognizable people to Management. Please, let’s just keep going and keep it light and hope that the information is just lists or so detailed that Ned doesn’t connect the dots. It’s all we have and we don’t have a lot of time. You haven’t seen the news today, have you?”

  “No, why?” asked Wallis. She could feel her stomach churning again. Her entire body ached and all she really wanted to do was get in a hot tub and stay there for a while.

  “Look, I don’t know how to tell you this one. Apparently, you haven’t been answering your phone either.”

  “No, I was being chased down by crazy people,” said Wallis, her voice straining. “What, what is it?”

  “Julia tracked me down. Yvette Campbell died today. They think she may have had a heart attack.”

  “Oh no,” whispered Wallis. She was finding it hard to catch her breath. “No, no.” She bent over and put her hands on her knees, willing herself to stay upright. “Do you think it was something else? I missed Bunko night and didn’t have a chance to tell anyone. Why would anyone want to kill Yvette? Good Lord, how much is there that we don’t know?”

  “Breathe, Wallis. Take in a breath and hold it. We can’t afford to panic, even a little. I’m sorry for all of this,” said Norman.

  “You can’t possibly hold yourself responsible for who my parents turned out to be.”

  “Look, we aren’t going to find out much more about anything else tonight other than what might be on that thumb drive. We are going to do our best to always protect Ned even if we have to lay down our lives to do it. Right now, that means getting our son’s help because he’s smarter than the two of us combined,” said Norman.

  “You think there’s an end to this nightmare that doesn’t involve any harm coming to our family?” asked Wallis.

  “Yes, yes I do and I’m going to make sure of it,” said Norman. “Tom should be here by tomorrow and together I think we can come up with something.”

  “We’re relying on Tom? Is there more to him than I knew about the first go round?” asked Wallis.

  “You’re in for at least one pleasant surprise,” said Norman. “But he’s got a stop he has to make before we meet up with him.”

  “You guys ever coming back?” Ned called out.

  Norman walked back into the room with Wallis right behind him. She did her best to shake off the feeling of dread and put any image of Yvette laughing and enjoying herself at their last Bunko game out of her mind.

  “Okay,” said Ned, “squirming in his seat till he was comfortable. “You have the drive?”

  Norman nodded at Wallis and she reached into her pocket. She’d been keeping the drive close by ever since she got out of the damaged Jag. “Here, Ned. How will you know if we’ve gotten all of the information that’s hidden?”

  “We might not but there are a few things I can do that should answer that question. We look under all of the images first. Every image you take has metadata imbedded in it,” said Ned as he pushed the drive into the port.

  “They do? Every image there is?” asked Wallis. She watched Ned typing and clicking.

  “Yeah, by the camera. Date taken, kind of lens, the camera setting, that kind of stuff. There’s metadata hidden in all kinds of electronic things we use. The guys at the store claim that the government is constantly tracking us,” said Ned.

  Norman cleared his throat.

  “What are the limits to what someone could track?” asked Norman.

  “Metadata could include where you were, when and if someone has a lot of that data on one person it forms a picture of who they are that’s better than breaking into any actual files,” said Ned.

  “Did the geeks, the guys at the store say if there was any way to counter it?” said Norman.

  “It’s possible but it’s not easy and everyone gets tracked these days. You draw more attention if you suddenly fall off the grid,” said Ned. “There’s even a new program that can be attached to anything with a GPS without the user knowing about it that can track when you’re in the aisle of a store, what kind of store and not only what aisle but where you stopped and for how long.”

  “This question sounds ridiculous under the circumstances but is all of that legal?”

  “So far it is. Marketing people can use it to see what’s effective and when you get near their product they could send you an email or a coupon,” said Ned. “Okay, here’s the first bit of metadata.”

  Wallis and Norman leaned over Ned’s shoulder to get closer to the computer screen. There were lines of data listing all of the children in the Circle program with a list of which orphanage and what their plans were for the future.

  “No wonder everyone wants this. It has thousands of names on here,” said Wallis.

  “If someone had this information they could forecast where the Circle was headed and even manipulate things without being seen.”

  “Tell me again how this list differs from the other team?” asked Wallis.

  “You are free to cha
nge your plans at any time,” said Norman. “There’s not only an out clause, there’s a ‘we can work with you’ clause. Big difference.”

  “What about the original twenty?” asked Wallis. Norman looked surprised and he quickly looked down at the floor. “Between Esther, Helmut and Father Donald I kind of have the basics of the story,” she said.

  “What story?” asked Ned, but before anyone could answer, something caught his attention and he hunched closer to the screen. “Hey, wait a minute, there’s another layer here. I’ve never heard of multiple layers of metadata. There’s something else. Hold on, I think I can manipulate the search engine to ask for the deeper tags.”

  “Do we bother to ask how?” asked Wallis, glancing at Norman.

  “Only if you’d like that feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach about how little you grasp to grow and grow,” said Norman giving her a small smile.

  “Quit kidding around, Dad,” said Ned. “We’re working as a team here,” he said, giving his father a serious look. Norman smiled at his son and said, “You’re right. Pardon my indiscretion. We’re Weiskopf men after all.”

  Wallis looked at the two of them and suddenly felt a little better. Maybe there was a way out of all of this where they could find a way to be happy.

  “What does all of that mean, Dad?” asked Ned, “It looks like a plan for increased GPS Marketing. Hey, that’s the thing I was telling you guys about and there’s even something here about individualized information marketing. But why do they mention China?”

  Chapter Nine

  It was a beautiful Sunday morning and the kind of winter day that only Richmond knows how to provide. The air was just warm enough to remind everyone of spring even though it was still at least a month away. Everyone would be out walking today after church with their coats open, smiling and waving feeling good about their prospects in life.

  The Episcopalians would already be filling up the tables at the local Red Lobster and the buffet line at Joe’s Diner by now, trying to get ahead of the wave of Baptists who’d be along about an hour after them. All of the different denominations in Richmond knew the schedule and when they’d be most likely to see their own people. Anyone who had skipped church that day to sleep in knew better than to show their face at a local restaurant before suppertime. They would be settling in for some Ukrop’s chicken at the local Martin’s instead.