by Andrew Watts
Still, Max knew this wasn’t normal, the FBI showing up like this. He tried to think of why they might have done it. Something time-sensitive, perhaps.
Or maybe they wanted to catch him off guard. Before he had the chance to lawyer up. If Max was running this little op, he would want to get as much out of the guy as he could, as soon as he could.
The FBI probably realized that as soon as one of Max’s father’s high-powered attorneys came into play, he wouldn’t be saying a thing. Max wondered if they knew about his background. No. That’s not possible. If anything, they knew about his cover. Now that could be a problem. Maybe that was it, then.
Max reverted back to his training. In the US, federal agents would need probable cause to arrest him. They could detain him no more than about twenty minutes without placing him under arrest. But if he voluntarily went with them…that changed the dynamics of the relationship. Still, it would be hard for them to use anything in court if they didn’t play it by the book.
The FBI was all about what they could prove in a court system. That wasn’t an issue for men like Max. In his former occupation, they only cared about getting accurate information, no matter how it came out.
Max and his FBI escorts walked up to a line of dark government SUVs parked on the curb of Rock Creek Parkway. The doors opened, and a few men stepped out of the cars, “FBI” emblazoned in bright yellow on both sides of their blue raid jackets. People on the street stared. It must have looked like a scene out of a movie.
“Mr. Fend, my name is Special Agent Jake Flynn. We’d like to speak with you for a few moments, please.”
Max looked at the group, a grin on his face. “All of you?”
“Could you come with us, please, sir?”
Max said, “Sure thing.”
A few moments later, Max sat in the middle seat of the Suburban. Two big FBI agents on either side. The vehicle drove fast through the streets of D.C.
The SUV stopped at a townhouse on Eighth Street in Northeast.
Max gave the FBI agents an odd look. “What’s this?”
“It’s an off-site residence that we use sometimes. It’s easier than taking you all the way down to the D.C. field office in Manassas. Unless you’d rather be stuck on I-95 for three hours today. If you can answer all our questions, we might be out of here in under an hour.”
“I’ll do my best.”
An agent at the door collected his phone on the way in. “You’ll get it back once we’re done. Security.”
They walked up to the second floor. Max kept going over things in his head. With this many agents here, Max figured that whatever they were working on must have been pretty high-profile. Maybe that was just because his father was Charles Fend. Maybe it was something else.
“Have a seat.” Special Agent Flynn extended his hand to a simple white desk, surrounded by a few chairs. Max sat.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, thanks,” Max said.
“Do you know of any reason why we might want to speak with you today?”
Max shook his head. “I don’t.”
Agent Flynn stared back at him for a moment, letting the question hang.
“Can you tell me where you were on the fifteenth of last month?”
Max thought about it. “I was in Jacksonville, Florida.”
“Where exactly?”
“I was with my father. Touring the Fend Aerospace plant and headquarters.”
“Touring the Fend Aerospace plant and headquarters?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you access the computer network at the Fend headquarters?”
“Can I ask you something? Do I need a lawyer?”
“Not if you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then we can keep this informal, if you want. It’ll be quicker. Did you access the computer network at the Fend headquarters?” His voice was melodic. Casual.
Max didn’t have a good feeling about this. Why were they concerned about the Fend computer network? He thought about his former line of work. If the right person had access, they could have done a lot of things with corporate network access like Max had.
Max said, “I think I might have used one of the company computers. Maybe to type a few emails. That sort of thing. But that was several weeks ago. It’s hard to remember.”
“It was three weeks ago.”
“Okay, it was three weeks ago.”
“So you had access to the Fend network?”
“Yes. I’m becoming an employee there. They’ve granted me access.”
“What type of employee?”
“Excuse me?”
“What will your job title be, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“My father owns the company. He’s training me for a managerial position.”
A few of the agents raised their eyebrows, smiling. “Must be nice,” one of them said. Max reddened.
Flynn said, “While you were there, did you email anyone who resides outside of the country?”
Max frowned. “I don’t know. I doubt it.”
“You doubt it, or you did not?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember?”
“It was almost a month ago. Do you remember everyone you emailed exactly one month ago?”
“Did you email anyone in Syria or Iraq?”
Max frowned. “No.”
“Have you ever had contact with a foreign government, its establishment, or its representatives—whether inside or outside the US?”
“I worked for a European consulting firm. We did a lot of business with a variety of clients. Some of them were foreign governments.”
“Any from any of those countries that I mentioned? Syria or Iraq?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Have you worked with any government or nongovernment organizations that were involved in criminal or terrorist activity?”
“No, of course not.”
“Were you involved with any nongovernment organizations from any of the countries I previously mentioned? Or maybe somewhere else in the Middle East?”
“Probably not.”
“Probably not?”
“What do those countries have to do with anything?”
“Could you please answer the question?”
“I thought we were having a friendly discussion.”
“We are.” Flynn gave a forced smile. “See?”
“Some of our clients were from Saudi Arabia, I believe. And I think at least one was Syrian. But I worked with businessmen from just about every other country in the world. So it’s not like I was just working with Syrians and Saudis the whole time. Although last time I checked, Saudi Arabia was a pretty staunch ally.”
Flynn frowned. “Did you communicate with any of those clients from the Fend network on the fifteenth?”
“What clients?”
“The Syrians.”
Max shook his head. “No. I do not have a continuing relationship with any of my former clients. I don’t send any of them emails. I’m changing fields.”
“Are you aware of a Fend network security breach last month?”
“No.”
“Did you know that a foreign entity attempted to steal information from Fend Aerospace?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“Do you know how much someone would pay to access the Fend Aerospace servers?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Don’t you find it interesting that this security breach happened on the fifteenth, right when you were there?”
Max stayed quiet. Was the FBI agent telling the truth? He certainly looked like it. So how was it that Max didn’t know about this, if it was true? Why would his father have kept it from him? Perhaps the agent was misinformed? Or maybe it was a minor incident, and they were blowing it out of proportion. If it was something routine, Max could see his father not telling him about it. Would the FBI be
questioning him if it were a minor incident? Unlikely…
Flynn waited for a response but got none. Then he said, “Mr. Fend, you will understand when I tell you that this security breach has raised some very serious questions. Fend Aerospace has some pretty big government contracts in the works. Some of them are defense-related. Some of them aren’t, but still affect the safety and well-being of many Americans.”
The agents were watching him closely.
“How can I help you with this Agent Flynn?”
Flynn said, “We have reason to believe that on the day of the incident, someone provided an external source—likely originating from one of the countries that I mentioned—with access to the Fend computer network.”
Max moved in his seat. “That is concerning.”
“It is.”
No one spoke. A dog barked outside. An ambulance siren was going off in the distance.
“You understand why I’m asking you about your foreign connections now, don’t you?”
Max said, “I think I see where you’re going, yes.”
“My team of specialists think it’s possible that someone from the inside granted access to this hacker group. The hacker group then attempted to steal highly confidential corporate secrets from Fend Aerospace.”
“That’s incredibly disturbing,” Max said.
“Yes, it is. And do you know what else is disturbing?”
“What?”
“The hacker group had connections to one of your former business associates in Europe.”
“Well, I wasn’t—”
“And the account that granted them access was yours.”
They continued to question him for almost an hour. The longer it went on, the more uncomfortable Max got. There was definitely a trail of evidence that pointed to Max.
Multiple cyberintrusions on the Fend network over a two-day period. Each through Max’s account. Each from some group that was supposedly connected to someone Max knew in Europe. They wouldn’t say who.
“Are you sure there isn’t more that you’d like to tell us?” Flynn said. “Because to me, it looks like you could be connected to a cybercrime. You know people that were likely involved, and you were at the location of a crime at or about the time it occurred.”
“Special Agent Flynn, respectfully—I can assure you that I had no knowledge of any hacking that went on at my father’s company.”
“And?”
“And you must agree that I have no obvious motive. You have a few bits of information that are implicating me, but the obvious hole is this: why would I want to harm my father’s company? I have a good relationship with my father. And I would never want to harm him, his company, or our country. Look, I’m happy to continue to answer any questions you might have—I will cooperate fully. But please know that I didn’t do anything wrong.”
The room was silent. One of the agents glanced at Flynn, who looked uncertain.
The doorbell rang. Max could hear one of the agents as he marched down the stairs and spoke to someone at the door.
“Flynn?”
“What?”
“The father’s lawyer is here.”
Flynn whispered. “You gotta be shitting me. How’d he know where we were?”
The agent shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”
Max tried not to appear pleased.
Flynn said, “Let him in, of course.”
A tall, thin black man wearing a suit jacket walked up to the floor where Max was being questioned.
The lawyer scanned the room in silence. He seemed completely comfortable as he looked each one of the agents in the face. His gaze landed on Flynn.
The lawyer said, “What in the world are you doing?”
“He voluntarily came with us. He—”
“Do you have PC?” Probable cause.
Flynn clenched his jaw. “Not at this time.”
“Then he doesn’t need to answer questions. Let’s go, Max.”
Max stood. The lawyer began walking out.
Agent Flynn cleared his throat. “We aren’t finished. We really could use about twenty more minutes of your time, if you’ll give it to us, Mr. Fend.”
Max looked at the lawyer questioningly. He guessed that the lawyer would say no, but Max didn’t want to appear as anything other than cooperative. Let the lawyer be the bad guy.
Max said, “If it will help clear up this mess…”
The lawyer stopped and turned, hands folded across his chest. He sighed. “If Mr. Fend wants to continue to answer your questions, we can finish this at my office. Tomorrow. I need time to confer with my client.”
The FBI men looked at each other. One walked away with his phone to his ear, whispering into it.
“Fine,” Flynn said. “We’ll finish up tomorrow.”
Max could see the other agent on the phone in the kitchen area. He was making eye contact with Flynn. He held up two fingers.
Two minutes.
Special Agent Flynn nodded back to him.
What was happening in two minutes?
Max got up and the group of agents escorted him down the stairs. Flynn said, “Give him back his phone and personal items.”
One of the agents leaned in close to Flynn. Max tried to read his lips but couldn’t. It looked like he uttered the phrase “press charges.” As in, “Do you want to press charges?” Max knew that if one of the agents was asking that, then they were probably close to that threshold of evidence they needed to place him under arrest.
They couldn’t have that. Not unless there was something they weren’t telling him.
He didn’t hear Flynn’s reply. But he saw Flynn looking right back at him, shaking his head. The group continued to walk outside the building.
A maroon Lexus sedan was parked on the curb. The lawyer opened the door for Max. “We’ll be in touch,” he told the FBI agents.
Once Max was inside with the doors closed, the lawyer looked Max in the eyes. His expression changed.
Max heard some commotion outside the vehicle. The FBI agent that had been on the phone was running down the front steps of the townhouse. Holding up his hand, calling something out to Special Agent Flynn.
In the side mirror, Max could see them talking. Flynn turned and looked at the sedan. He held out his hand and yelled, “Hold up!”
The doors in the sedan locked and Max looked at the lawyer in confusion. The lawyer placed his hand on Max’s shoulder. “Listen to me.” His eyes were deadly serious. “I’m not a lawyer. And I’ve never worked for your father.”
A sinking feeling grew in the pit of Max’s stomach.
The driver said, “Someone set you up. That’s why the FBI is questioning you. And it won’t get any better.”
A knock at Max’s window. Flynn stood there, giving him a signal to roll down the window. His voice sounded muffled from outside. “Max, please step out of the vehicle.”
Max looked up at him. A group of agents were behind him. One was going around the driver’s side. Flynn’s hand began reaching down toward his holster.
The lawyer said, “Max, whatever information they just received, it’s false. But it’s something that could lock you up for years, and place your father and his company in peril. You need to get out now, while you can.”
“Right. Question—can you go back to the part where you—”
“Max, I need your consent. This will be your only chance. Come with me now, and I can give you a shot at freedom. You’ll have a chance to find out who set you up, and stop them. But you need to tell me now that you’re in. Otherwise, my orders are to release you back to the FBI.”
Max looked into the face of Agent Flynn. He didn’t look happy.
Max said, “Let’s go.”
“Strap in. We’re going to try and lose them.”
“Oh, hell.”
The lawyer slammed on the gas and peeled out, his Lexus tearing down the road. They left the FBI agents openmouthed and panicked.
4
; At first, Special Agent Flynn had thought the lawyer was just a pompous ass. Coming in like he owned the place, happy to throw his weight around and force the FBI to play by the rules.
Flynn had been stuck between a rock and a hard place. He had taken a risk, asking Max to voluntarily come in to answer questions before the second arrest warrant was issued. The first warrant had been recalled as they were moving in to arrest him.
The Cyber Division had sent them evidence that morning, and his team had a location on Max Fend. A judge issued the warrant, and they began moving.
The evidence was obvious enough at first glance. Fend looked dirty. The Syrian hacker group on the other end certainly was. The electronic forensics data connected Max to the cyber intrusion. The Cyber Division had cross-checked it with their partners at the NSA, who in turn had shown it to the DNI’s office as a courtesy.
That’s when the trouble started. After the warrant was issued, the lawyers from DNI and the NSA had informed the Justice Department of some irregularities in the data. Flynn had seen this show before. The judge would recall the warrant. But by that time, his team was walking toward Max Fend and had likely been spotted. Pulling them back meant that they would be alerting Fend that they were on to him, and giving him a chance to flee.
Sure enough, the judge decided to cancel the warrant. Flynn’s team was already moving in on Max. He had to think fast. So he told them to see if Fend would come in voluntarily.
But Flynn needed corroborating evidence. So he reached out to the DST—the French domestic intelligence agency. They had responded to a request for information on Fend earlier. The French had records of Max taking meetings with men connected to the suspected hackers. Flynn needed those documents sent to the judge.
Flynn’s team received the evidence from the French and were taking it up the chain. They would have an arrest warrant within the hour. In the meantime, Flynn would ask Max Fend a few questions. If they were lucky, he might get spooked. Maybe he would admit allowing the hackers into the Fend computer network. If not, the French evidence would provide what they needed to place Fend under arrest before they had to let him go. That was the plan.
The Fend lawyer had changed everything.
Once he entered the picture, Flynn began to worry that any case he had would be thrown out because of procedural mistakes. He had stuck his neck out, and now his head was about to get chopped off. Flynn had attempted to take down wealthy guys like this Fend character before. Their lawyers always got them off on technicalities. That’s what the money paid for. Greatest judicial system in the world.