“So how will we find out?” asked Justin.
“In the second half of the serial number, one of the numbers is a six or an eight or a five.”
“That really narrows it down. Should I start canvassing the neighborhood?”
“Very funny. No, what I had in mind was something more computerized. Start out by creating a database of all manufacturers, globally, which make this sort of thing. Then generate a list of all serial numbers of all components manufactured by each company.
“Since when?” asked Justin.
“Good question. Go back five years. Once you have your database populated, you can begin eliminating candidates.”
Justin shook his head. “I have to tell you, boss, probably none of them are going to be eliminated.”
“It’s all we have to go on,” said Sharon. “At least we’ll end up with a list of names.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Sharon put his hand on Justin’s shoulder. “This is important. It may be critical to finding out who’s messing with the Net. But I can’t tell you more than that.”
Justin was desperately curious, but knew better than to pry. “Like I said. I’m on it.”
***
“Wow.” Norbert muttered the word under his breath. He had impressed even himself.
The program that Mason had him working on was ready, and the results in his test system had been mind numbing. He had thrown every conceivable obstacle in the path of his little monster, and in every case it neatly sidestepped the unexpected barrier. He even issued direct commands to delete the file, and it appeared to go away. Then, unexpectedly, it would come back under a totally different guise, but just as deadly. He made some quick notes before shutting down the system, and carefully removed the hard drive and locked it in the vault. This was one bug that he would have to be very careful with. As soon as it was safely locked away, he went to see Mason, who waved him into his office.
“I just wanted to let you know,” said Norbert. “The program is ready for your approval.”
Mason looked at him blankly. “The program?”
“Yes, sir–the one that you asked me to create, so we have a defense if someone like the FBI gets too close again.” He was getting a bit upset at Mason’s apparent memory lapse. “I was just testing it, and…”
“Norbert, slow down. Let’s go to your lab and you can show me.”
“Okay.” Norbert was disappointed at Mason’s response. He had busted his tail on what had seemed to be an important project, and now Mason was acting like it was nothing. But he perked up at what came next.
“I have to say, Norbert, I’m impressed at how quickly you developed this program.”
Norbert shrugged, as if it was nothing. “Well, a lot of it was reusable code from the earlier projects against the FBI and the travel industry.” His excitement returned. “But what really sets this apart is its ability to adapt.”
“Tell me more,” said Mason.
“There are basically two modes. In delayed mode, it enters the host system in one of several ways, then waits for an activation signal before it begins shutting down processes and wiping out data.”
“Like a mole,” suggested Mason. “A spy who’s planted and is only activated when needed.”
“That’s a good analogy. The difference is that this would be like multiple moles, and when activated, they would raise hell.”
“So the system it resides on, in delayed mode, would be affected once the activation code was received?”
“That, or it could be set to go off at a predetermined future date. That way you would only have to worry about getting into the target system once. Of course, it couldn’t be recalled once it was delivered.”
Mason smiled. “Like an intercontinental missile.”
“Exactly. And like an ICBM, it’s very destructive. The host system would be totally wiped out. So you can see why careful targeting is critical.”
“Obviously.”
They arrived at the lab.
“The program is currently stored on a removable hard drive,” said Norbert, “which is only used in a closed environment. I don’t want to risk letting this thing into our own system.”
“Couldn’t you delete it?”
Norbert looked at Mason as if he had heard nothing he had been saying. “No, sir. At this time, I don’t know how to destroy it.”
Mason nodded and indicated that Norbert should proceed with the demonstration. After he had once again put the program through its paces, he carefully removed the hard drive and locked it up.
“I’m impressed,” said Mason. “What else remains to be done?”
“Right now it’s too dangerous to use, mainly because we can’t control it.”
“But I thought you said we could tell it where to attack?”
“We can, and that part of the design is pretty solid. What I worry about is its adaptability. It might escape back into the general population, possibly even into our own system if we aren’t careful. We have the poison, but we don’t have the antidote. Also, I need to refine the delivery system, and write the technical documentation.”
“I see,” said Mason. “Let me know when it’s completely finished.”
“Of course.”
Norbert’s earlier disappointment had vanished, and he immediately turned to the task of fine-tuning the new program. He smiled as he opened the file containing the computer code behind ‘Pascua’. Mason had insisted upon this name. Norbert had no hang-ups about secret names, though. Call it Barbara Ann for all he cared; he just loved to write code.
***
Stanley and Katherine arrived at work early on the day following the demo, hoping to spend some time planning their campaign against the agency. They were surprised to see that Boyd was already in Klugman’s office, but their conversation didn’t seem to be a happy one. Klugman waved his arms, while Boyd occasionally shook his head vigorously. While this went on, Stanley and Katherine had a cup of coffee and discussed their plan to ‘borrow’ ScanDat equipment.
“I figure,” said Katherine, “that the disk arrays are going to be way too heavy.” She referred to the racks of storage disks, far larger than the main processor itself.
“Even the smaller one?”
Katherine shrugged. “We might be able to wheel one rack out on a cart, but getting it into a vehicle would be a nightmare.”
“We don’t really need the disks,” said Stanley. “There’s enough storage on the Alpha itself for our purposes.”
“Yeah, but we’d have to reinitialize it and load it with our own programming before we took it. That’s okay, assuming we can get it done under Boyd’s nose.”
“Which appears to be rather bent out of shape at the moment,” said Stanley, as he gestured towards Boyd, who was coming towards them.
“Hey, Boyd,” said Katherine.
He nodded and glanced back at Klugman’s office. “You two are early.”
“What about you and Klugman? Looked like a grudge match in there,” said Stanley.
“Yeah, well. I guess you guys are going to find out anyway. The screw-up on the demo was my fault.”
“How could that be?” said Katherine. “We used that data–I don’t know how many times–without any problems.”
“I know,” said Boyd. “But just before the demo I pulled the input criteria one last time and made a minor adjustment. Apparently when I reset it there was an extra byte of blank space at the end of one of the strings. It wasn’t supposed to be there.”
Stanley shook his head. “But you couldn’t have known that. Any one of us might have missed it.”
“That’s just it,” said Boyd. “I did know, and I didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t be so bad, but those geeks with their laptops found out and told Klugman. Or rather, that Johnstone lady did. Anyway, I’m going to have to walk on eggshells around here for a while.”
Katherine put her arm around him. “Boyd, you didn’t make a mistake. We did.”
&n
bsp; “No, man, it was my…”
“We’re a team, Boyd,” said Katherine. “If the team wins, we all win. If the team loses, oh well.”
Boyd looked at each of them in turn. “Thanks, guys. You’re all right.” He returned to his cubicle, leaving them alone.
“That was nice, Katherine,” said Stanley.
“Yeah, and think how much he won’t be looking over our shoulders now.”
“That’s a bit cynical.”
“Oh, I meant what I said about the team,” said Katherine. “I’m just saying that with Boyd’s good will, we should have more freedom to do what we have to.”
“If I know Boyd, that benevolence will dissipate pretty quickly. He won’t be watching things too closely today, though. No one will.”
Katherine agreed. “This is probably the only chance we’re going to get to prep the Alpha without anyone noticing.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
***
It wasn’t that Agent Sharon didn’t like his supervisor–Roberts–it was that he didn’t trust him. Sharon had good instincts when it came to people, and he’d had a bad feeling about the man from the start. Nevertheless, he had given him the benefit of the doubt, played by most of his rules, and been paid back with nothing but grief. With more on the line now than ever before, his defenses immediately went up when Roberts summoned him to his office.
“Agent Sharon, please have a seat.” Roberts established his authority by starting the conversation with an order.
Sharon sat down. “You wanted to see me?”
Roberts nodded solemnly. “Some disturbing information has come out of the investigation into the deaths of the Philadelphia agents.”
“The deaths were disturbing. I knew one of the men personally.”
“Yes…in fact, your name has come up in connection with the investigation. It seems that the Philly office logged a call from our branch shortly before the men were shot. That call was placed from your office.”
Sharon crossed his leg. “As I said, I knew John. We worked together on a racketeering case in New York a couple years back. We kept in touch from time to time.”
Roberts smiled. “And it just so happens that you reached out and touched him hours before his death?”
“It’s a small comfort,” said Sharon. “But at least I did get to talk with him.”
Roberts leaned back. “Did you know it was an anonymous tip that led to the discovery of the dead agents?”
“I heard.”
Roberts tapped on his desk. “Something stinks here, Sharon, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
“Yes, sir. Will that be all?”
Roberts waved him out without another word, so Sharon rose and left the room. He had come close to lying, but felt that his answers had been close enough to the truth. As he went to check on Justin’s progress, he realized he was going to have to walk a narrow tightrope if he were to survive long enough to get to the bottom of this mess.
***
Charles Mason sat in his leather chair, remote in his left hand, watching the video of Norbert explaining the programs that were used to shut down the travel industry and the FBI. He replayed certain parts again and again, occasionally looking at a set of notes he had taken, and at his computer screen.
“Norbert, Norbert, Norbert…what have you done.” He spoke softly, under his breath, as he rewound the tape and played it back.
“Norbert…pascua florida. Ah, well, it had to happen eventually.” He leaned back and hummed a tune he remembered from his youth, from a time when things had been so much simpler. He longed to go back to those times. To the time before the…No! He refused to think about it. “Norbert, Pascua. Pascua, Norbert. Soon, my friend…soon.”
Chapter Seventeen
Robert Slocum was finally in his element. From a rain-soaked back alley he watched as a team of three workers finished unloading a white panel truck, transferring its cargo of stolen goods into a ground floor warehouse. It was two o’clock in the morning, on a Wednesday, so few souls were stirring besides those with ill intentions. Slocum was no exception. He waited an additional ten minutes before crossing the street, and cautiously made his way towards the truck.
He came to a window with dirty glass panes that offered a view of the inside of the warehouse. He had to stand on a rickety piece of spouting to reach that high, but he took the chance. Inside he could just make out the three figures sitting around a pile of boxes. He couldn’t tell what they were doing, and didn’t care. He stepped down from his perch and quickly surveyed the nearby ground. He soon found what he was looking for–a short piece of iron rod. He picked it up and quietly placed the latch on the outside of the door over the ring that served as a locking mechanism. He jammed the piece of metal through the ring, locking the men inside. They heard nothing.
Slocum went to the truck. The keys, as he suspected, dangled from the ignition. He smiled at the irony; the thieves were a trusting lot. When he started the truck and pulled out of the alley, the men inside the warehouse looked towards the door. Slocum laughed to himself as he headed back to his apartment. If you’re going to steal a truck, steal it from a thief. They’re much less likely to report it.
***
Kayoko watched from the kitchen as the truck pulled up outside the apartment. “That must be him,” she said.
Slocum came in the side door.
“Any problems?” asked Kayoko.
Slocum shook his head. “No. I knew where to look, and these guys won’t be calling the cops.” He looked at Stanley and Katherine, sitting in the living room. “How are you doing?”
“A little nervous,” said Katherine. “But we’re hanging in there.”
“You have the addresses of your co-workers?” asked Slocum.
Katherine held up a slip of paper. “Mr. Klugman drives an Audi. I think he keeps it in his garage. Boyd’s car is a Ford Taurus, and that’s probably parked outside his apartment. The plate numbers were on record with personnel, so I assume they’re still valid.”
“Good work,” said Slocum. “Are you sure no one else will be at ScanDat at seven a.m.?”
“The security guard will be there,” said Katherine. “But he’ll mainly be concerned with people whose faces he doesn’t know. We have the bogus work order that we printed, and since you’ll be with us, we should be able to get in and out.”
“Unfortunately,” added Stanley, “the building won’t be accessible until seven, and Boyd or Klugman might come in early. You never know.”
“Right,” said Slocum. “I’ll make sure they’re delayed in case they decide to go to work early. You two better get some shuteye.”
“What about you?” said Katherine. “You’re going to be up all night.”
Slocum smiled. “Sweetheart, I’m doing what I love to do. I could go three days without sleep if I had to, longer if it meant taking down the agency, which it does. You just be ready in the morning.”
Katherine nodded and handed him the paper with the addresses. Without another word Slocum left the apartment, and considered how he would accomplish his mission as he drove through the empty city streets.
***
Klugman was a light sleeper. Even when he had been married, it was more often he than his wife who heard strange noises in the middle of the night. He liked to think it was because of his heightened sense of hearing, but in reality it was because he was a coward. He was afraid of the dark, of all things, and the very thought of it kept him on edge, even while trying to sleep.
Now, at four in the morning, he was once again awake, peering into the shroud of darkness that blanketed his upscale home. He thought he had heard something, but it had been one of those peculiar noises that seem to be half fantasy, half real, and he wasn’t altogether certain that he hadn’t dreamed it.
“Probably the house settling,” he told himself. None of the alarms had gone off, so he wasn’t concerned about robbers. His state of the art system was foolproof. After staring out th
e window for another few minutes, Klugman finally went back to bed.
On the ground beneath the vintage Audi, inside the garage that had taken him ten minutes to penetrate, Slocum lay on his back, a small flashlight held between his teeth. Without a mechanics crawler it was slow going, but he finally found what he was looking for. He reached up and carefully loosened the wiring harness that ran from the fuel pump. He pulled it completely apart, and then reseated it so that the plastic ends met, but the metal contact points inside were separated. The car would now turn over, but without fuel pumping there was no way it would start. It would probably take a decent mechanic a couple hours to determine the cause.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Slocum eased himself from beneath the vehicle. Before leaving he reset the garage alarm, then readied himself for his next victim.
***
It surprised Slocum that the security around the Taurus was better than that of the Audi. Of course, it had more to do with the perimeter around the apartment complex than with the actual value of the car. Still, it presented a challenge.
The security guard who sat perched on a stool inside his tiny booth wasn’t especially attentive. In fact, if Slocum wasn’t mistaken, he actually dozed off from time to time. The moment Slocum set foot in the parking lot, however, his movement might attract the attention of the man. This would not do.
The Taurus itself was parked in the middle of the lot. He knew it was the right vehicle, since it was the only blue Taurus anywhere near Boyd’s apartment, or anywhere in the lot for that matter. There didn’t seem to be assigned parking spots, and the car had apparently been left in the closest available space, which happened to be out in the open. Slocum looked at his watch. It was almost five o’clock. Plenty of time.
He didn’t want to get too close to the building, in case someone in one of the nearby units owned a dog. A barking animal was the last thing he wanted. He moved to the farthest point from the guard shack, diagonally across the parking lot. Crouching low, he made his way towards the Taurus, careful to always keep a vehicle between the guard’s line of sight and himself. He reached the car, and took a moment to ensure that he hadn’t been spotted. All was still.
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