Palm Sunday

by William R. Vitanyi Jr.

  Pampas sat down on the couch in Mason’s office. “We picked up the kid, Bobby Whipple, without a hitch. Contact has been established with the father.”

  “That would be Stanley Whipple.”

  “Yes. We expect to make a second contact very soon.” Pampas looked at his watch. “Within minutes, as a matter of fact.”

  “Good. Does he have the device?”

  “He claims to. He thinks we’ll trade his son for it.”

  “Be careful. We don’t know who he may be working for.”

  “He’s been warned about involving others.” Pampas hesitated, but seemed to reassure himself. “It’s his kid. He knows better.”

  “You said a couple fronts. What’s the other news?”

  “It’s about the FBI raid on ScanDat.”

  “What about it?”

  “Whipple works there,” said Pampas.

  “Stanley Whipple? At ScanDat? That’s where Norbert said the data stream was accessed from.”

  Pampas nodded. “That’s right, which means that Whipple is in this thing up to his eyeballs.”

  Mason wasn’t pleased. “Why didn’t we know about this earlier?”

  “We wouldn’t have known at all if the FBI hadn’t raided ScanDat. We did our own digging then, and Whipple’s name popped up.”

  Mason shook his head. “Something doesn’t add up, George. Why would Whipple use ScanDat as a platform for breaking into the data stream? Even the FBI tracked him down.”

  “ScanDat may be a front. For all we know it may have been formed for the sole purpose of tracking us.”

  “If that’s true, they were very sloppy. It also means they’ll have an operation in place to follow Whipple when he comes for the boy.”

  “I don’t think so. Whipple may be an operative, but we have his son.”

  “If it was your son what would you do?” asked Mason.

  There was no hesitation. “I’d handle it myself. Involving another team would be too risky. Besides, I’d know that the boy would never be returned alive, anyway.”

  “Do you think he believes we’ll trade his kid for the palmtop?”

  “He has to believe,” said Pampas. “At least, he has to believe he can make something happen.”

  “Make sure you get both Whipple and the palm unit.”

  “As I said, the operation is already under way.” Pampas stood up.

  “Good. We’ll use what we know about ScanDat to get him talking once he’s here. That, and the fact that we have his son.”

  “I’d better go check in with my team.”

  Mason motioned for him to go. He was pleased with the positive turn of events.

  ***

  Katherine was already in the store, waiting for Stanley to get his call at the pay phone and join her. The short aisles didn’t provide much opportunity for stalling, and she had already made three complete circuits of the store when the cashier called over to her.

  “Can I help you find something?”

  Katherine looked up, startled. “What? Oh, no thank you. I’m just looking for something that strikes my fancy. You know–munchies.” Katherine smiled.

  “Yeah, I gotcha, girlfriend. Sometimes I get so hungry that I’m tempted to eat one of these tired old hotdogs.” The black teenage girl motioned with her head at the display of slowly rotating, grease-covered wieners.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you. You know what they’re made of, don’t you?”

  “What’s that?”

  Before Katherine could answer, the door to the store opened and Stanley walked in. Both the cashier and Katherine looked at him, and he stopped for a moment, frozen by the unexpected attention. Quickly, though, he gathered himself, and walked to the milk section. He couldn’t remember which area he was supposed to go to if the coast was clear, so he simply got Katherine’s attention and beckoned for her to join him.

  “They called.”

  “And…”

  “They want me to meet them at an abandoned gas station outside of town. They said to be alone, and that they would have Bobby with them. I’m to bring the palmtop.”

  Katherine was concerned. “Stanley, I’m afraid. These people kidnapped Bobby. Not to mention Slocum.”

  “What choice do I have?”

  “What if they take the palmtop and don’t give you Bobby?”

  Stanley was thinking the same thing. “If that happens, I’ll have lost any hope of getting him back.”

  “Then we need a decoy,” said Katherine.

  “What do you mean?”

  “A fake palmtop. To see what they intend to do. If they hold up their end, you can always tell them where the real one is. If not, you’ll still have your leverage.”

  Stanley slowly nodded. “It might work. But where are we going to find a palmtop that works like Slocum’s?”

  “It only has to look like it. You can tell them it stopped working this morning–the battery must have worn out. That should buy enough time to discover their intentions.”

  “We’ll have to stop at an electronics store,” said Stanley.

  “When’s your meeting?”

  “One hour.”

  “Then there’s time. Let’s move.” As they left the store together Katherine nodded to the cashier. “Stay away from those hot dogs, now.”

  The cashier winked at her, and then they were gone.

  ***

  Agent Sharon’s people were thorough. Not a single workstation at ScanDat escaped scrutiny, and the Alpha was examined with a fine-toothed comb. The only problem they had was with the experimental interface. To do it justice they would have to confiscate the entire unit and dissect it in their lab, which Sharon was reluctant to do. His authority didn’t extend to removal of property without cause, but his people gave it a once over, and were impressed with the design and workmanship. Boyd was happy to show off what he knew about it, and followed Sharon around like a puppy, until finally he had to send him on a wild goose chase just to get him out of his hair.

  Sharon was bothered by the fact that two employees had disappeared without any explanation. He wanted to talk to Stanley Whipple and Katherine Ritaglio, but they were nowhere to be found. Worse, any evidence of tampering with the Internet infrastructure either never existed, or had been expertly removed. Sharon was forced to leave with nothing, his only satisfaction an admonition to Klugman to not let it happen again, because the FBI was watching.

  Klugman watched in bewilderment as the last agent departed.

  ***

  Norbert sat at his workstation as Mason pressed him about his progress on the program to take down the FBI data center.

  “I’ll be running some tests this afternoon. I think you’ll like my approach.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Mason.

  Norbert brightened. Not too many people showed interest in his work. Not in the details, like Mason did. “Pretty simple,” said Norbert. “I have a dummy network set up that will act as a model of the target. An executable will be transported as a self-propagating subcomponent of the DLL used in version control. At the desktop level, of course.”

  “Of course.” Mason waited for further clarification. None was forthcoming. “So what will that do?”

  Norbert smiled. “The version DLL itself is inconsequential. I’m only using it as a cloaking device of sorts. I’ve created a replacement that looks and acts exactly like the original, so it should bypass any low level security checks.”

  “You’re losing me.”

  Norbert leaned forward, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “Okay. The DLLs–dynamic link libraries–are small, rapidly executing programs that help the computer perform all kinds of functions. Some are mundane, repetitive tasks, and most are fairly specialized.”

  “So you’re creating a virus that looks like one of these DLLs?” said Mason.

  “Sort of. The Bureau’s data center no doubt runs software to check for changes to DLLs–that’s one way of scanning for viruses. The challenge here is to create a new DLL, in
this case the version DLL, that looks, acts and feels like the original, with some undetected enhancements. It’s basic component design.”

  “Oh.”

  “The version DLL, once introduced, will function normally. Any calls to its interface will be met with unhesitating compliance. Smooth. But then, without warning, at a predetermined time, the naughty side of the DLL will wake up and assert itself. It won’t be pretty.”

  “What does it do?” asked Mason.

  “It depends on the level of authority of the user who receives it. That part is kind of a crapshoot. Even here, at our agency, various users have differing levels of access.”

  “Let’s say for the highest level. What would happen?”

  Norbert understood. Mason wanted to know what was about to be unleashed. “Once it activates, it will start replacing allocation table values. Then it wipes out the boot sector. If the user has sufficient security privileges, it will attempt to issue a command to shut down their primary database. I’m not real confident about that one, but I thought I’d throw it in.”

  “Sounds like pretty serious stuff,” said Mason.

  Norbert shrugged. “Only in the short term. They may have to reinstall some operating systems, but for the most part it will just be a big nuisance. They’ll lose some data, and they’ll go crazy for a while trying to figure out what’s happening.”

  “During which time we’ll be upgrading our equipment.”

  Norbert nodded.

  “Will it work?”

  “We’ll find out this afternoon when I run the tests, but yes, I believe it will.”

  “Send me the source code. Put it in my secure folder,” said Mason.

  “I doubt it will mean much to you.”

  “Nevertheless...”

  “You’re the boss.” The phone rang as Norbert turned to his console to copy the files for Mason. It was Kayoko. “Hello, there. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Norbert looked at Mason and indicated that the files were on the way. Mason nodded his thanks and left.

  “I have some questions regarding the test matrix,” said Kayoko. “I was hoping we could get together this afternoon.”

  “Sorry, Kay, no can do. Mason has me working on something that’s going to keep me busy for a while.”

  “I see. Then can I get you to do me one small favor?”

  “For you? Anything.” Norbert smiled to himself. He had a thing for Kayoko.

  “Could you give me privileges to the matrix base data? At least that way I could run some test scenarios to verify initial functionality.”

  Norbert tapped on his desktop with a pencil as he considered. “I could, since those files aren’t restricted from you specifically, but there’s other information in there besides what you would need. It’s integrated.”

  “I’m at a standstill with the test preps, Norbert. Unless you can run the extracts for me, everything comes to a halt.”

  Norbert was about to say no, when a program he had been running aborted abnormally, demanding his attention. “Okay, okay. But you’re the only one, and don’t go peeking at stuff that’s not related to your area.”

  “Okay, Norbert, I won’t peek.” Her good-natured laugh reassured him.

  He said goodbye, set up her file privileges, and turned back to his work.

  ***

  It had been dark for about an hour when Stanley pulled into the abandoned gas station. There was already one other vehicle in the parking lot, a van, so he pulled up behind it. Katherine had returned to Slocum’s apartment, waiting either for Stanley to return with Bobby, or for a call demanding the real palm unit.

  As Stanley pulled up to the white van its doors opened. Three people emerged–two men and a woman.

  Stanley opened his door and got out. He held the palmtop he and Katherine had just purchased in his left hand. “Where’s my son?”

  The trio from the van stopped when they were ten yards away, and the two men moved to positions on Stanley’s flanks.

  The woman spoke. “You have the device?”

  He held it up. “Right here. Where’s my son?”

  “He’s safe.”

  “I want to see him.”

  “You will. May I see the palm unit, please?” She held out her hand.

  “First I want to see my son.”

  The woman looked at one of the men and nodded. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun, pointing it at Stanley.

  He cowered, covering his head with his arms. “Wait! This isn’t the real palmtop!”

  The woman looked at the man with the gun and held up her hand. “What are you talking about? Let me see it.”

  Stanley started walking towards her, but was quickly warned back by one of the men, who retrieved the device and brought it to her. She turned it over in her hands, carefully examining it.

  She looked at Stanley. “Where’s the real one?”

  “In the hands of someone I trust. When my son is free, I’ll call for it.”

  The woman looked at him in disgust. “Put him in the van.”

  ***

  At the agency, Bobby was being treated much better than his father. Though confused as to why he had been brought here, the explanation that his father was soon to arrive helped alleviate his anxiety. But Mason insisted that Kayoko spend some time with him to help put him at ease, and to learn what she could about the father. As they sat in an agency lounge, Bobby sipped a soda that Kayoko had given him.

  “Your dad should be here soon, Bobby.” He didn’t respond. “Is the soda okay?”

  He briefly took his mouth off the straw. “It’s fine.” He went back to the straw.

  “I’m sorry about the way you were brought here.”

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s an office building. We do very important work here.”

  “It’s different from my dad’s office. There are no windows.”

  Kayoko nodded. “That’s true, no windows. But that’s because we’re underground.”

  “Cool. How far?”

  “Two stories. I don’t know how many feet that would be. Maybe about a hundred?”

  Bobby shrugged, already losing interest. He pushed the drink away. “When’s my dad going to get here? I want to go home.”

  “Where do you live?” asked Kayoko.

  Before Bobby could respond, the woman who had picked Bobby up from school walked into the room. “So, there you are. Good news, Bobby. Your father’s here.”

  Bobby was immediately on his feet. The woman led the way to the conference room, where a clearly overjoyed Bobby was reunited with his father. Stanley was thrilled to see his son, but apprehensive about the agency’s intentions. The presence of Pampas and two armed men did little to relieve his concern.

  Mason entered the room shortly afterwards. “So, Mr. Whipple, we finally meet. As you can see your son is safe and sound. We’ve taken very good care of him, thanks in large part to our counselor, Kayoko Watanabe.” Mason gestured towards Kayoko.

  Stanley looked at her and nodded his thanks. “I appreciate your kindness.” He looked back at Mason. “I think we need to discuss some business.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Mason. “The item, which you have so cleverly withheld. It’s readily accessible, I assume?”

  “I need to make a phone call, say a particular phrase, and then the device will be brought to a predetermined location.”

  Mason stared at Stanley. This character was too clever by half. “We seem to be at something of a stalemate, Mr. Whipple. I want the device, and you want your–interest. How do you propose we solve this dilemma?”

  “It’s not that hard. We can all ride in your van, including Bobby, and the exchange can be made in a public place. There will be no trickery, and you’ll get your device back.”

  Mason paused. “I need some more time to think about it.” He looked at the woman who had escorted Bobby into the conference room. “Put these two together in one of the holding areas for now.” When they had been escorted from
the room, he turned to Pampas. “I want this thing ended. Suggestions?”

  “Whipple thinks he’s calling the shots,” said Pampas. “But no matter what site he picks for the exchange, we can retrieve the palm unit and maintain custody of him and his son.”

  “Why?” asked Kayoko. “You just want the palmtop back, right?”

  Mason shook his head no. “Think about it, Kayoko. What do you think Whipple is going to do once he hits the street? We don’t know for sure who he works for, and we can’t let the doctors at him until he gives his partner the signal to bring in the real palmtop. We need both the palm unit, and Whipple.”

  “What about the boy?”

  Mason shrugged. “Obviously his knowledge is limited.”

  Pampas offered a solution. “The father could be housed in one of our medical facilities, the son placed in a foster home, with an explanation of how his father ‘died’.”

  Kayoko was aghast. Not so much at the ‘solution’ suggested by Pampas, but by the fact that Mason didn’t dismiss it. She decided to probe. Carefully.

  “Isn’t that a bit dangerous? What if the doctors at this facility believe what Whipple tells them? Wouldn’t we risk exposure?”

  Mason smiled. “The facility is totally secure, don’t worry about that. My primary concern right now is convincing Whipple that everything is on the level. You did a good job with Slocum on that count, and Whipple seems to be sincerely grateful at how you’ve treated his son. So you take the lead. Make him feel at ease, and see if he’s engaging in any subterfuge.”

  “I believe I can do that,” said Kayoko. “What about the son?”

  “For now keep them together.” Mason looked at Pampas, who nodded his agreement. “When we’re ready to start the operation, we’ll put them in separate vehicles. That’s the last they’ll see of each other.”

  “And Slocum?” asked Kayoko.

  “Ah, yes,” said Mason. “I had almost forgotten. It looks like Whipple will have a roommate.”

  ***

  Kayoko was desperate. She knew she had to do two very important things, and she had no idea how to do either. First, somehow, she had to rescue the three prisoners. Second, the agency had to be exposed. Of course, in the middle of this she had to survive. She shuddered to think of being locked up in a mental ward for the rest of her life, with perhaps only fleeting moments of coherent thought between drug treatments. This was the fate that awaited Whipple and Slocum if she failed. She shook her head and stared into her computer screen, and suddenly had an inspiration. An idea of how she might accomplish her daunting mission started to take shape.