The Shadow's Code

by Miles Goodson

  Lindon checked his phone and had received a message via SecureNet. Payment had been sent whilst he was at the gym. That was fast, he thought. There was a message below the payment confirmation, it asked him to contact Dino Logging. He knew it was going to be another discussion about an upcoming job he wasn’t interested in. After checking his emails and scanning through world news for a few moments he called Dino to say he wasn’t interested in any upcoming work.

  The phone rang for less than a second before a secretary picked up. Lindon told her he needed to speak to Carón. The secretary was used to Jim being requested by the name of Carón; he was out of his office but could be contacted. Lindon waited on hold for two minutes. The hold music sounded like the soft tunes played in a dentist’s waiting room. Lindon wondered why they bothered. Jim picked up the line in his office, standing bolt upright with a glass of whiskey in hand.

  “Hi Carón, its just a quick call, I’m not interested in the job. I know it’s triple pay but I’m going away for a month,” Lindon said as he walked into the kitchen.

  “C’mon Lindon, how can I change your mind? This is easy work,” Cáron said eagerly.

  “I’m not interested, I’m having my vacation, besides if it’s so easy I’m sure you can get other guys to fill my spot, how about Marcus, he’s good and a freelance.”

  “Lindon, you know the score with these clients, they’re used to getting what they want and they want the team that’s just done a job for them. Listen, I’ve spoken to the senior guys and we’re willing to offer six million. Half now, half on completion. You know these types of fees don’t come around often, and how many times have you heard me offer you half up front?”

  Cáron had a point. Offering half up front was almost unheard of. Lindon had never met another freelance who had ever been offered it. He paused for a few seconds longer than he should have and Jim pounced with another strong pitch.

  “You wouldn’t have to work for a long time with that in the bank, could pick and choose your jobs from now on!” he said like a salesmen closing a deal.

  “Well…it’s a good amount but I’m still declining.”

  Jim was caught off guard. He was sure Lindon would take the deal. “You sure, when is an offer like this likely to come again?”

  Jim was right and he and Lindon knew it. Jobs with fees that ran into millions were very rare and almost always tendered to employees of Dino Logging Brothers Co. As a freelance Lindon would be very unlikely to get offered a fee like this again.

  “You’re right, but still, I’m comfortable how I am, got all the money I need right now.” Lindon was now standing by his breakfast table, staring at his reflection in a spoon.

  “OK, but you’re turning down easy money here Lindon, look I won’t tender the job to anyone else for twenty-four hours, just read over it, it’s a job made for you, all cyber stuff, just think about it, OK?” Cáron said.

  “I will, but don’t hold your breath on me for this one,” Lindon said as he looked toward the large window in his apartment.

  “Speak soon Lindon.”

  Jim hung up the line before Lindon could respond. Jim collapsed onto the sofa in his office and stared at the wall for a moment. He hurled his drink at the wall and instantly regretting wasting good whiskey.

  Lindon had a humble 2-bed, 2-bath apartment with a large living area and lived near downtown. He also had a small single story house in Miami and a retreat in Sweden. They were all purchased under different names and all paid for with cash from offshore accounts.

  Lindon had covered his tracks since leaving the military; he hid from his neighbors and rarely went out without a baseball cap. Lindon had enough money to keep himself living well but he was no fool. Six million dollars would mean he could turn down any job he wanted and cherry-pick the easy ones. He could even retire and sell his places in Chicago and Florida and move to somewhere the sun always shines. He would always want to keep the retreat in north Sweden. It was his hideout should he need to disappear. Plus an old girlfriend that had never left his mind lived in Sweden. He hadn’t forgotten about her but he was sure she had forgotten about him.

  Lindon sat at his breakfast table and daydreamed about what he could buy if he accepted the job. He could stop working as a mercenary and buy a small gym or restaurant and enjoy the rest of his days on a beach with six million dollars in the bank. He could get a nice place to live and watch the clouds go by or he could move home and try to settle down. He snapped out of his daydream. If the job paid this much it wouldn’t be easy, no matter what Cáron said, and he was tired and drained from his last job. Lindon decided long ago that in this game he would live to a rule of never taking on work unless he was 100% fit and ready, but the money tempted him to break this golden rule. He decided to re-heat some Chinese food from the night before and watch the football highlights on TV. He would look over the mission with a fresh perspective later that night but remained skeptical.

  Warren arrived at a tactical team meeting at 0800.

  He had slept well and used the day before to do mundane tasks such a buy groceries and do some chores. Warren lived alone but had an on-off relationship with Alicia. She was eight years younger than him. He struggled to keep up with her most of the time and she didn’t believe that he had gone missing because of national security and wasn’t speaking to him. Warren walked over to a few people he knew and got the morning’s pleasantries out of the way. The meeting started promptly and finished five minutes later. No work was assigned to Warren, as no one knew he was back. At 0830 he had a meeting with his superiors. Bill had mentioned the possibility of a promotion for a job well done.

  James Conran and Bill Stanfield were standing waiting by Bill’s large desk when Warren knocked on the office door.

  The small talk between James and Bill stopped immediately. Bill’s office contained a lot of wood furnishings, broken up by small American flags and photos of military vehicles and servicemen from different points in history. Bill gestured for Warren to sit; the chair was eight feet away from the desk, on its own. Warren looked at it, solitary and deliberately pulled back from the desk, shown by the vacant seat above indents in the rug where the feet usually pressed down. Warren looked at James who said nothing but raised his eyebrows whilst looking towards the seat. Both Bill and James were standing on the other side of the desk. Warren took long strides to his seat and lowered himself down like a naughty school child.

  “Good morning, Warren,” James said. Warren nodded. “OK, well first let’s get the obvious stuff out of the way. Nothing said in here leaves this room, if anyone asks you then you tell them this was meeting for a promotion, understood?” James said and then sat down.

  “Yes,” Warren said as his began to realize that a promotion may not be on the cards. Bill sat on the edge of his desk.

  “Warren, you remember working with Professor David Ebton, right?”

  “Yes Sir,” Warren answered more confidently this time.

  “Well as you know he is no longer with us. Now the program he designed is now so important that James and I have dropped all other operations until this is resolved. You see, we need to wrap up the operation ‘Parasite’ since the professor is no longer able to help us and….this is the most important part of what we are going to tell you. We think someone may have breached the program’s ongoing security,” Bill said and then stood before sitting back down on the edge of the table.

  James decided to add his part in all this. He spoke with a booming voice. “Warren, the situation has changed over the last year or so. This is deliberate and we know that not even you know what information it contains, but this order is direct from the president. Now several events have taken place in just the last month and we now need to move much faster. The reason we needed you to identify Ben or Lindon, whatever you want to call him, is that he has become the center of the operation, but we need him alive and we need to make sure we get the right guy first time around.” James stood up to sit on the desk next to Bill.
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  “I don’t understand why you need me, there were two guys the professor worked with, Ben Svenonsson and Randy Dean, if you can’t get Ben to help you mothball ‘Parasite’ then get Randy. I’m sure he’s still in the military. A SEAL last time I checked. He would come in and sort all this out, no problem,” Warren said.

  “Yes, he would and up to a month ago that was the plan. We had the professor’s plans for the project if it ever had to be mothballed and we knew exactly what code we needed to create a bridge between the start of program ‘Parasite’ and the two operatives. We could tell him to unlock everything we need… but… he’s dead,” James said.

  “What? Dead? Randy was one of the best there is, and he had a marker over his name so he saw no overseas combat. How did he die?” Warren asked like a detective trying to solve a murder without a suspect.

  “We lost a team in a car wreck, looks like an IED. His team was sent for recovery only, not combat, repatriating bodies and destroying anything that the enemy could use against us. That sort of thing, but some how they got caught up in a firefight. Randy was the only man down,” Bill explained, clearly upset that it had happened.

  “So that explains why you need Ben, or shall we call him Lindon now?”

  “No, Ben’s his name, that’s what we’re calling him,” Bill insisted.

  “OK, well why don’t you just put the message out that you need to speak to him, he must have friends still in the service or family that know where he is?” Warren said, knowing that everything he was suggesting would have already been done. Sure enough James had an answer ready.

  “We’ve tried, he went to ground after leaving the military, family haven’t seen him in years, no friends to speak of, best we heard was from his mother who told us he’s traveling in Europe. That’s why you’ve been running around the whole of South America to give us a positive ID.” Warren rubbed his forehead that was still bruised after the knockout blow he had taken from Lindon in the hotel.

  James took a step towards Warren. “We know he’s working as a mercenary for a company called Dino Logging Brothers Co., but they’re based in Canada and we can’t just go marching into their offices. In fact from what we understand they not only have the best legal protection but some of the best cyber protection. He’s working as a freelance and they won’t give us his details but if we get him on another job we can put him somewhere easy to catch,” James said. Warren nodded, as he had nothing more to add.

  “Warren, tell us again everything you know about operation Parasite,” Bill said.

  Warren shifted his weight from side to side and looked at the ceiling. “Well, I was recruited by a man in the CIA, he didn’t tell me his name. I met the professor a few weeks later and was told to do anything he asked. He explained that he was building a coding system for weaponry that could never be hacked into. He also said that the project dealt with weapons that only he, the president and the director of the CIA knew about. We did some testing on computer systems. I created a virtual bridge. The professor had done most of the work before I got there. I just translated it into military code. I hope that makes sense.” Bill and James nodded and Warren continued. “The professor was given two guys, Ben and Randy, they were both eager to join the team.”

  “Who chose the two men?” James asked.

  “I don’t know, I guess the same mystery guy that picked me. Anyway, I created all the coding for the bridge, that’s what you both would have seen. The bridge ends by needing passwords, a selection of numbers, letters and symbols. I never got to see them. I don’t even know if Ben and Randy saw them, the professor was very secretive. After a week our work was done, none of us was told what the project protected and we didn’t ask. The two soldiers went back to their respective bases and I was given a small promotion and a bonus. I hadn’t seen Ben again until he knocked me out in the hotel. He didn’t appear to recognize me. It was like we had never met. Sorry I can’t be more help. I don’t suppose you know what weapons Parasite covers up, do you?”

  Bill and James looked at each other. “I’m going to be honest with you Warren, it looks like a mission that ran black ops years ago with experimental nuclear weaponry but what it became is anyone’s guess. All we know is that for us both to have to work on this together and drop everything else, it must be big,” Bill said ominously.

  “So do you guys still need me?” Warren asked, hoping he would be free to get back to his mundane coding.

  “Yes, from this point on you’re our point man. The director of CIA asked me and Bill to only use you for all coding. Two of my men will now be with you at all times to keep you safe,” James said.

  “Keep me safe? I work on a military base. It couldn’t get much safer, could it?”

  James looked at his shoes. “Warren, we’re not sure that Randy’s death was just a potshot by some terrorists. We think he may have been the target of an assassination. If he was, that means someone is targeting the team that set up the program. It also means that the professor’s suicide may have been the subject of foul play. Until we know if anyone is taking out the team and who they are, we’re taking every precaution,” James said sternly. Warren nodded. Two men in sharp suits stood at the door.

  “Sir, you wanted to see us.” James smiled.

  Lindon caught himself daydreaming halfway through reading the mission sent by Dino Logging.

  He was imagining driving a fast car. His love for cars had only grown stronger since rallying around the yard in a go-kart as a child. He could just see himself cruising along the side of a mountain. Chasing down the corners on a twisty road with peaks all around him and sheer drops at the edge of the road. Cresting a hill he imagined dropping a gear and rolling down a window to hear a V8 burble echo all around with cold air rushing in through the window, blue sky, not a soul in sight, just him, a twisty road and lots of horsepower. Driving nirvana. Lindon snapped out it and stared down at the dull mission statement on the table. The twisty roads and roaring engines would have to wait.

  Chapter 7

  James Conran sat in his office, packing his briefcase.

  James often worked late, much to his wife’s dismay. The high ranking role he held at the CIA came with a high ranking salary, which she enjoyed spending and so tolerated her husband’s lack of appearances at dinners, birthdays and Christmas. As he walked away from his desk the phone rang. “A little late for calls,” he muttered to himself. James was already at his office door and thought for a moment about ignoring the call, it was 10.15pm by his watch, but duty called so he walked back and grabbed the receiver.

  “Conran,” he answered, expecting one of his few superiors to be on the other end.

  “James, it’s Roger Eghard, sorry to call so late.” Roger had been an advisor to three consecutive presidents and was the current secretary to the sitting president. Now in his 60s he still worked an eighteen hour day and criticized those who didn’t.

  “Hi Roger, don’t worry, I know you have no concept of time when it comes to work, what can I do for you?” James said with a hint of sarcasm. He had known Roger for a long time. The two had formed a working relationship but not a friendship.

  “I’m calling off a secure line in the White House, I trust it’s secure your end.”

  “Of course,” James blurted, almost offended at the idea that his office line, at the CIA headquarters in Langley, could be anything other than secure.

  “Well, the circle has just got a little smaller,” Roger said gravely.

  “I’m not sure I follow.” James had been at work since 7am and fatigue had set in.

  “James, you know what I mean, unless I’m not speaking to James, who are you!” Roger had a clear sign of nervousness in his voice.

  “Relax, Roger, it’s me. It’s just been a long day, we don’t all work eighteen hours and be as fresh at the end as we do at the start.” Roger remained unsure on the other end of the line. “Are we talking about the…big project?” James asked.

  Roger’s voice lowered to a
whisper: “Parasite”.

  Several White House staff had been trusted with the knowledge that a project known as ‘Parasite’ had been started by the CIA but none of them knew what the project’s actual purpose was except that it was given higher priority than the briefcase containing the nuclear launch codes; none of them could imagine what could possibly have more importance. The president was the only person in the White House who knew the project’s true purpose. The secret was handed down from one president to the next in a briefcase that each president opened on his first day in office, alone. Presidents added a letter or a file on their last day in office and sometimes then removed old files that were no longer needed. The briefcase was then placed in an Oval Office safe and the key was handed to the next president. It was an old school routine but it had worked so far.

  “OK Roger, what do you need to talk about?” James sat back at his desk.

  “It’s Julie, she was found dead this morning, a suspected heart attack.” Julie had been the only female member of the privileged circle that knew about the project. She had worked at the white house for thirty-five years in many different capacities.

  “I can’t believe…of all of us, I didn’t think Julie would be the first to go,” Roger said.

  James had only met Julie on a handful of occasions. “Heart attack, well that is very sad Roger. I shall be sure to attend the funeral, do you know when it is?” James asked, ready to hang up.