A Dark Place
Page 29
“Get in here or I’ll fucking shoot you right there,” the man hissed from the alley.
Dennis stood his ground. Was the mystery man alone? He was a software engineer, not an assassin, for chrissakes. Or was he?
Shit, Dennis thought. What’s your guess, Cunningham? Is this guy a problem or is he just scared shitless?
Dennis stepped into the alley and was instantly grabbed by the neck and slammed up against the brick wall. A cold pistol barrel was pressed against his forehead.
“You fucker. You set me up.”
“Calm down,” Dennis said. “And get that gun out of my face. I don’t think you know how to use it.”
“I ought to just kill you after what you did.”
“Did what?”
“Put that device in my pocket, you stupid shit. Could get me sent to prison for fifty years.”
“Hey, would you just calm down a bit,” Dennis said. “Let’s talk like adults.”
The man suddenly shot a glance to his left at the sidewalk and dropped the pistol to his side as three young men walked by. They saw Dennis and the mystery man in the shadows and chuckled as they passed by.
“Poofters,” Dennis heard one of the men say.
And just as quickly the barrel was back onto Dennis’s forehead.
“Jeez,” Dennis said. “Would you please put that friggin’ thing down? You’re pretty high-strung right now, and I’d hate to lose the top of my head because an alley cat rubbed against your leg.”
“Asshole,” the man said, putting the pistol in his coat pocket. “It’s still pointed at you.”
“Fine. So you have a gun on me. I got it. I’m scared. But why are you so scared?”
“I’m not scared.”
“Well, it’s a damn good imitation.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, well, can we get past the salutations and talk about something more useful? Like the device. What is it?” Dennis asked.
“You know exactly what it is.”
“Hello? Mr. NSA cryptographic wizard. Anyone home? I have no fucking idea what that stupid thing is. I put it in your pocket because I thought you could tell me. I think it has something to do with Freddie’s death, but I don’t know. Thought you’d help me figure it out. Instead you’re freaking out and sticking a gun to my head. Not sure Freddie would be sanctioning this approach.”
The man, who was easily a foot taller than Dennis, stood back a few feet and peered down at Dennis.
“Where did you get it?”
“The plug?”
“Yes.”
“I told you. Menwith Hill.”
“Fuck!”
Silence. A cab drove down the street, and Dennis could see the strain in the man’s face as the light from the street lamp splashed his face again.
“Well, what is it?” Dennis said.
“It’s a node in a PLC network.”
“Umm, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you just humor me a bit?”
“It’s a surveillance device. Part of a network. It’s not the whole network. Just a node.”
“Well, was it there on purpose? Is it ours?”
“No, it’s not fucking ours.” The man gave a short and vicious snort of derision.
“I’m getting confused,” Dennis said. “What is it exactly?”
“It’s a PLC node, and its only job is to eavesdrop.”
“What’s a PLC?”
“Power Line Communications.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“PLCs use the powerlines in a house or building to move data around. They’re like normal data networks, only they don’t use Ethernet cables or Wi-Fi. They use the copper wires and power outlets to do the same thing.”
“They can do that?”
“Of course they can fucking do that.”
“Okay, so this is going to sound stupid, but stick with me. I pulled this thing off a laptop power supply cable at Menwith Hill. Make sense?”
“Yes. It was put there to mask the device. Unless you look closely, you can’t tell it was added on.”
“How can something this small be so important?”
“I said it was a node, not the entire system. The hub and repeaters are elsewhere on the electrical system. Do you have access to the repeater?”
“No. I wouldn’t know a repeater if it hit me in the face. What makes you so worried about this device?”
“First, it looks like Russian hardware. Second, it’s been tampered with.”
Dennis sighed and rubbed his forehead where the barrel of the man’s gun had created a neat, small, depressed circle.
“Okay. This device was used to eavesdrop on a computer or computer network. But it wasn’t attached to the Ethernet cable on the computer. Instead it was attached to the power cord. That right?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re saying that the power line can be used to do the same thing as an Ethernet network or Wi-Fi system, only it uses standard power lines?”
“Yes. It’s new and experimental. Never seen anything like this, but the device was using the power lines to push data.”
“What kind of data?”
“Whatever was going on with that computer.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Dennis said.
“Don’t believe it then.”
“Okay, fine. So this device was just a node, right?”
“I told you that already.”
“You mentioned a repeater. Would the repeater collect this data and pass it along?”
“Yes.”
“What would a repeater look like?” Dennis asked.
“My guess is you wouldn’t be able to see it. It was probably slipped behind the power outlet. Maybe a network of repeaters.”
“So this network of nodes and repeaters would capture data, then what?”
“Then send it somewhere for capture.”
A large group of young people could be heard laughing hysterically nearby, and Dennis and the man stood farther back in the alley until the group passed.
“This PLC network — whatever the hell it’s called — would be a secret surveillance system? Is that what you’re saying?” Dennis asked.
“Could be.”
“Is it possible that Menwith Hill didn’t know this PLC system was listening in?”
“Not just possible, it’s likely,” the man said.
“Can you tell who might be listening in, you know, from the device I gave you?”
“Something’s wrong with the node you gave me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been tampered with. I told you already.”
“Yes, you did. But I didn’t understand what you meant.”
“This is the last time I’m going to respond to one of your postcards. This is much more serious than you know. This meeting tonight was for Fred. But no more.”
“Hey,” Dennis said, grabbing the man’s arm as he tried to walk away. “Come on. What do you mean tampered with?”
“Jesus, do your ears work at all, you old fart? I told you: the hardware looks Russian, but it was tampered with and an additional chip was added.”
“Why would someone do that?”
“You figure it out. Now get your fucking hands off me.”
✦
Judy sat on the bed in her flannel pajamas and yawned.
“Perhaps it’s the late hour, or my befuddled brain, but I’m a tad lost in all this.”
“He said that little device had been tampered with. He pulled it apart under a microscope and toyed with the chip inside. Said the original chip was connected to another chip that seemed to have been added later.”
“Devil’s advocate here: so what? What does any of this mean? Who tam
pered with what and why?”
“He didn’t know, and I don’t think he wanted to know. He said it was one of the strangest things he’d ever seen and thought I was being naïve in pursuing this.”
“What did he do with the little plug you gave him?”
“Said he crushed it with a hammer then flushed it down the toilet.”
“Think he actually did that?”
“Yeah. He was scared shitless.”
“I’m going to bed,” Judy said. “Look, it’s 1:12 a.m. Come on.”
“I have a headache,” Dennis said, rubbing his temples.
“You’ve been knocked around a bit, poor fellow,” she said. “Come to bed.”
“I don’t know if it was the music, or the gun, but my head’s throbbing.”
CHAPTER 28
The phone rang incessantly until Dennis heard it go to voicemail. Then the burner Louise had given him started up again.
“Christ,” he said, stumbling out of bed. “Hello?”
“This is day zero,” Louise said. “We’re out of time. The investigation officially ends tonight at midnight Eastern time. You were holding back yesterday until the project was closed. So the project is nearly closed, and we need to meet for a debrief.”
Dennis could hear Judy pull the pillow over her head to deaden the sound.
“How about tonight? Let’s have dinner.”
“Sounds cozy. And a dumb delaying tactic. How about now? I got another call from the IG.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. ‘What’s going on with the Arnold thing?’ he asked.”
“Dinner. Please, Louise. We’ll clear the air then. Promise.”
She didn’t say goodbye but just hung up.
“God, what a pain in the ass she is.”
✦
After breakfast they decided to take a long walk, but not before Dennis put nearly all the mobile phones he had into the hotel safe.
Bundled up, they walked out of the hotel onto the crowded sidewalk, dodging the rush-hour pedestrians. Dennis walked no more than twenty steps with Judy when a well-dressed man coming toward him on the right suddenly stumbled and veered into his path.
The man wore a pinched cap and held a traditional hard, black briefcase in his right hand. As the man stumbled, he flung out the arm holding the briefcase wildly to get his balance, and Dennis felt the corner of it slap against his rib cage.
The man gathered himself and muttered, “My word, man. I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes,” Dennis said, grimacing. As they walked on Judy asked if he was okay.
“I’m fine, I just can’t wait to get out of this city.”
They walked for thirty minutes until they arrived at a small park.
“Son of a bitch,” Dennis said, rubbing his lower chest. “That bastard caught me good. Probably cracked a couple of ribs.”
“You poor fellow, you can’t catch a break,” Judy said, rubbing his gloved hand. “I’m so glad your assignment is over.” She was afraid to ask about his plans to move to Australia. Why press him now? He wouldn’t back out now, would he? she thought.
Back at the hotel Dennis kept complaining about his ribs. Judy thought he was really complaining about meeting with Louise that evening. She knew he was paranoid about Louise’s true motives, which further complicated his decision to turn over what he knew about Arnold in Moscow, and the purloined eavesdropping device from Menwith Hill.
“For heaven’s sake, Dennis, show me your ribs.”
Dennis took off his sweater vest, then his shirt.
“Right here, can you see anything? A bruise?”
Judy put her face six inches from his rib cage.
“I can make out a small bruise, or at least I think so. Oh, what’s this? There’s a tiny bit of blood.”
She rubbed her hand over the tiny spec. “Does that hurt?”
“Sort of. Of all the damn things to happen, this idiot trips and falls into me, breaking a bunch of ribs.”
“Now Dennis, you don’t know if you have broken ribs. You’d have trouble breathing. It’s just a bruise.”
✦
During lunch Dennis barely ate his food and Judy worried about his meeting with Louise. He was clearly distracted and agitated.
At 2:35 p.m., Dennis complained to Judy that he didn’t feel well. She checked his forehead and said he felt warm.
“I’ll go purchase a thermometer,” she said.
“No, forget it. I’m fine.’
At 4:20 he threw up for the first time. Judy did her best to comfort him, but he seemed very warm, especially around his ribs.
At 5:00 p.m. he threw up until there was nothing left in his stomach. She went out and purchased a thermometer, aspirin and athletic drinks with electrolytes.
His temperature hit 103 degrees at 5:45 p.m. and Judy began to walk around the room, wondering what to do. She knew he was supposed to meet Louise in several hours, but he could not make that appointment.
She tried to coax Dennis into explaining how to get in touch with Louise, but Dennis became increasingly sullen and sleepy. His breathing was labored.
At six thirty he was dry-heaving in his bed, and his temperature had spiked to 104 degrees.
She called the front desk and asked for an ambulance.
✦
The small waiting room was empty except for Judy, who sat with a worn magazine on her lap, trying to focus on the captions underneath pictures of celebrities.
She had been at the hospital for over two hours, after Dennis was admitted to an isolation ward. They diagnosed him with something called methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus, or MRSA. She had never heard of it before, but the emergency room staff was extremely nervous and rushed Dennis to a special section away from patients and most staff.
A door swung open, and Judy saw a very young man in a lab coat walk over to her. He introduced himself as Dr. Ravishana.
“I’m afraid this is a very serious illness, and it is also contagious, so Mr. Cunningham must be isolated. He is being treated with very powerful antibiotics intravenously, and we hope to stop the infection from spreading.”
“Can I see him?”
“That is not advisable right now. He is sleeping. We have his fever under control. Please remember that this is a serious bacterial infection that is resistant to most of our drugs. You should make sure that you take a very hot shower this evening and wash yourself with a disinfectant soap. I’m sorry to be so rigid, but it is contagious. Please let us know immediately if you start feeling sick and develop a fever.”
“I assume you have new antibiotics that can target this infection,” she said.
“Presumably, yes. But there is some confusion about the exact type of bacteria he is infected with.”
“What confusion?”
“Well, the swab sample we examined in our lab is a little different than what we’ve seen before.”
Judy noticed the physician was exceedingly polite but had no facial affect, neither a wan smile nor a knowing frown of sympathy or concern. The blank expression worried her.
“Do you think he’s going to be all right?”
“We certainly hope so, but until we find the correct antibiotics, the bacteria will continue to affect him.”
“Affect him how?”
“It is attacking his liver and kidneys.”
“Well, stop it then! You must be able to do something! This is a modern hospital, isn’t it? We’re in London, for god’s sake!”
“I assure you we’re doing everything possible to help Mr. Cunningham. Please understand that.”
“I want to see him right now. I demand to see him.” Judy could feel the rush of helplessness and fear wash over her, and it reminded her vaguely of the dark time in the cement basement room.
“Yes.”
“And please do not reach any false conclusions about his health simply by looking at him. He is being well cared for and is being given intravenous antibiotics and other drugs.”
✦
Judy wore a gown, gloves and a paper breathing mask, but none of it helped when she caught a glance of Dennis.
She gulped. Dennis lay in a bed enveloped in wires and tubes. He wore a clear plastic breathing mask. Several machines beeped in the background as his heartbeat and respiration were monitored on small video screens.
His eyes were closed, and he seemed not to breathe.
“Is he alive?” she yelled through her mask to the physician.
“Yes, of course he is. Please, don’t be alarmed. He is breathing and fighting this infection as well as can be expected.”
“He looks frail.”
“He’s very sick.”
Her eyes welled up so fast that she did not have time to fight the sob.
The doctor quickly led Judy out of the room then had a nurse help her remove the protective clothing and studiously monitor her hand-washing.
Judy was led back to the waiting room, exhausted, sad and angry. Though she had never met the other person in the waiting room, she knew who it was.
Louise walked over and sat next to Judy.
“How is he?” Louise asked.
“Not well.” Judy was angry at Louise for no other reason than that this small blond woman with ice-blue eyes was the embodiment of everything she hated about Dennis’s employer.
“Can you tell me what happened to him?”
“How did you know he was here?” Judy asked.
“The hotel told me.”
“I thought your surveillance teams or phone tracking satellites would have picked up his whereabouts.”
Louise sighed. “I’m sorry, Judy. But I have to ask you what happened to him. It might be nothing or it might be important. Please help me.”
“He doesn’t trust you,” she said, staring across the room. “And that means I don’t trust you.”
“Let’s say he doesn’t trust me, and you don’t trust me. I still might be able to help. I’ve requested an agency physician who is on call 24/7 here in London to review the case as well, and he’s on his way over now.”