Death of Secrets

by Bowen Greenwood

  Mike sat down at the table and accepted a bottle of beer from Jerry. Kathy took one too, and then took a couple pretzels from the offered bag. Once he’d supplied a bit of food, Jerry disappeared back out the door.

  "What're you thinking, Mike?" Kathy asked, seeing his frown.

  "I'm thinking I want to have a word with Nathan, and find out what he's thinking. I don't believe he just lied to me flat out. There must be more to this."

  Kathy scooted closer to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. "Maybe he didn't know?"

  "He'd have to know. He's the go-to guy at the NSA for high tech stuff. All the evidence makes it look like he lied to me about what that thing can do. But he’s been my friend forever. I want to believe there’s something I don’t know."

  After a moment Kathy said, "I guess I've always thought politics would make a person used to backstabbing and stuff." She trailed off and squeezed Mike's shoulder.

  He shook his head, pushing the subject away for now. "I always thought of Nate as just a good guy with a job that he wasn't able to talk much about." He sighed and muttered. "Well, that's me. D.W. always said that being too trusting was my worst political weakness."

  Kathy gently ran her hand up and down Mike's back. "You do alright on who you trust, Mike. Look at me."

  His head rotated to look at her, and his face changed swiftly from dark to light. "I trust you more than anyone else, Kathy."

  He reached slowly to her and brushed the hair aside, and she allowed it. Mike moved his face closer to hers, but she shook her head, smiling to soften it.

  "I can’t do it that way Mike."

  He backed up slightly, hurt and surprised.

  Kathy laid her hand over his. "I like you Mike. I like you a lot. But guys… I mean, a guy, that’s not something to do just for happiness, or just because it feels good. Whatever happens between me and a guy – me and you, maybe…" She stopped, then tried again.

  "I’m sorry. For the past two years I’ve been getting mad at guys for not understanding this, and now I find that I don’t know how to say it any better than they do.

  "If anything’s going to happen between me and you, it’s going to start with God. That’s what I know how to say."

  Mike thought that was one more thing than he knew how to say at that moment.

  His eyes grew a little wider as he found a new thought in his head. He wasn’t getting a chance to kiss her. Instead, he was getting a chance to know her. Wasn’t that better?

  The only words that seemed to fit were, "Tell me more."

  Kathy smiled. "You tell me more."

  "Well…" Mike stammered. "I guess I know what everyone else knows. Created the world in seven days, made a flood and an ark, etc. etc."

  Kathy gave him a broad smile. "Let’s set all that aside for now. Do something with me."

  She took his hand in hers, and Mike happily let her.

  "God, please help Mike and me."

  When she didn’t say anything else, Mike asked, "Was that it?"

  She laughed. "Let’s just see where it goes."

  ***

  Colleen watched as Jakarta set up his chain of intermediary computers to conceal his identity. "How many proxies total?" she asked, using the more technical term for the intermediaries.

  "Four," he replied. "Any attempt to backtrack this is going to be really, really hard."

  "Not impossible, though," Colleen said.

  "That's true," he replied. "There's no such thing as perfectly untraceable. But the odds of being able to do it are very low. That's why I go with four proxies. Somewhere along the line, someone's going to screw up. Making the line that long makes it much more likely they'll make that mistake, and that's what I count on."

  He changed the topic slightly and said, "In a decent world, it wouldn’t be this hard to be anonymous online. People go around posting their anonymous comments, and turning on their private browsing when they want to look at dirty websites, and they’ve got no idea that their Internet provider knows every bit of that. Every video you watch, every drunk tweet… the phone company sees it all, and so does the government. Thought Recognition is just the latest way the Internet is changing what privacy means."

  Colleen said, "What you’re talking about doesn’t change privacy. If the technology is used, it’s literally the end of privacy."

  Jakarta nodded, not looking at her.

  Colleen sighed and shook her head. "I’m not political at all. But I guess I’m not surprised the government would do this. It just makes me more cynical."

  He nodded. "I’m a little bit more political than you are. I'm very defensive about my privacy. If you can’t even keep your thoughts to yourself…" He trailed off and shrugged.

  Colleen gave him a long, significant look. "If you can’t even keep your thoughts to yourself, then you couldn’t keep your real name a secret either."

  He smiled at her. "Since it’s just you… Hugh. Hugh Collins."

  Jakarta turned his attention away from the pretty girl who was showing so much interest in him, and back to the screen. "OK, let's do this thing. We're connected to EG's public server."

  ***

  Carlos Saglieri stood at his window facing away from the door of his office. A frown spread across his lips. He gazed out at the vacant loading dock below. It was a far cry from the view he'd wanted out of life.

  Once upon a time, he'd been a federal law enforcement agent. It hadn't been a bad life. Carlos had loved the look of fear in a suspect's eyes when he came into the interrogation room. He'd loved the way people had backed up when he flashed his badge, and the way local cops hustled out of his path when he and other agents took over a case. But eventually a case had been thrown out of court when the suspect claimed he'd been beaten into a confession and Carlos's career as a G-man had come to an end. He wished he'd known J. Edgar Hoover – in his day, Carlos would have been celebrated instead of being fired.

  All that was past. Carlos looked at it as his chrysalis. He had emerged as something far greater.

  Or rather, on the cusp of something far greater. He was very nearly there. Oh so nearly. He only needed to see the GigaStar program through to completion. For that he needed Tilman – only Tilman had the political connections to get it through Congress. But Tilman also needed him. If Congress found out the truth about the GigaStar, it would never pass. And if Katherine Kelver needed to die to make sure no one found out the truth about GigaStar, well, that was where Carlos came in.

  Tilman had shown real foresight in hiring him, Carlos thought, not without a smug smile. He remembered the initial meeting quite well. He'd received a card in the mail, inviting him to the Neon Nightclub.

  Carlos had never gone before, but it turned out to be a dance club – a bit, Carlos thought upon entering, like being inside a music video. He would have turned around and walked out, but for the same thing which had lured him here in the first place.

  That card was a very expensive linen cardstock with a handwritten note. "If the government can’t use your skills, I can."

  The ink smeared when he ran his thumb over it – real hand writing, not something faked by a computer. Someone wanted him here – someone who wouldn't give his name. It smelled like intrigue, and that was what Carlos wanted. It was, after all, the best way to advance quickly in the world.

  So he stayed at the Neon, and made his way toward the bar. He had to cross several different dance floors to get there. When he'd finally reached the bar area, Carlos found a crowd around it six deep, making it essentially impossible to get in close enough to order.

  Fortunately, someone put a drink in his hand.

  He looked to his right, prepared to turn down an invitation to the dance floor. But the face of the man standing there showed no interest in dancing. He wore a suit and tie. He was balding, and wore his hair slicked back, revealing just how high his hairline had gone.

  When he spoke, the volume of music in the room made it next to impossible to hear him. It would also, Ca
rlos realized, make a tape recorder or microphone useless. "I hope you'll forgive the meeting place," the man said. "I didn't want to be overheard."

  Carlos only nodded. Out the corners of his eyes, he watched the crowd of young people whirl around them, lost in the loud music and flashing strobe lights.

  "I understand you need a job," the man continued. "And judging by your background, I doubt you're looking for something behind a desk."

  Carlos didn't ask the man how he knew – talking about his record in law enforcement was his way of demonstrating his seriousness – demonstrating just how "inside" he was. The man before him was a player, of that there could be no doubt. But for what team? Carlos replied by asking. "Agency, foreign, or private?"

  His potential employer gave a respectful nod at the question. Both of them had to establish their bona fides, after all. "Private. Interested?"

  Carlos gave a noncommittal shrug.

  "The salary would be more than generous," the man said, trying to draw him out.

  "Money is only the playing piece. I want to know what game I'd be playing."

  The man said, "I think you'll like it."

  Now, remembering, Carlos smiled. Yes, he had enjoyed the game so far – new identity and all. That had been the one thing that almost kept him from taking the job, but he'd decided that his old self was a wash-up and a failure, and there wasn't much point in being him anymore. Tilman explained it as necessary because his company would do so much work with his former employers. But in the end, Carlos didn't care that much about the reason.

  Tilman' operation was about power, plain and simple. It was such a delightfully vicious circle. With the government as his chief client, Tilman was able to tap into the greatest revenue stream on Earth – the federal budget. And with money to burn – or more accurately, to funnel into political campaigns – he could manipulate the government. He'd made himself, his company and not least his Director of Security filthy rich over the ensuing years.

  Now, they were on the verge of the greatest score yet. GigaStar would do more than line their pockets with more money. It would give them the fountain from which money flowed. GigaStar would give them information – uncounted terabytes of information. And in a town like Washington, where secrets could kill, knowing all the secrets would make them kings.

  He allowed himself a rare smile, and gazed one last time out the window. But he didn't see a parking lot. He saw a kingdom, and it stretched far beyond Reston.

  To his surprise, the phone rang. He sat down at his desk and picked up the receiver. His eyes snapped all the way open when he heard the voice on the other end.

  "Carlos, Nate Jacobs at the NSA. You guys have a hacker on your system right now. Can you do anything about it?"

  "Now? Right at this very moment?"

  "Yeah, we’re tracking the guy. He stumbled across one of our decoys and used it as a proxy. He just crashed your web server, Carlos, get on there and kick him off."

  Carlos turned in his swivel chair to look at his PC. "Crap, my computer’s powered down."

  ***

  "So we’re through the firewall?" Colleen asked.

  Jakarta said, "Yes," and then kept typing, firing off several of the little packets of information at the EG servers. Responses fed back to his screen until one of them showed a weakness.

  "Yes!" The exclamation came from both Jakarta and Colleen at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.

  ***

  Carlos couldn’t stay in his chair. He whirled and walked away from his desk, then stomped back to it so he could pound his fist on the table. It was precisely the opportunity he needed, and he was going to miss it!

  He’d slammed the phone down on the NSA after telling them, "I’m on it right now." But the trouble was, his computer had been off. Now, watching the desktop finally appear and waiting for the cursor to become responsive, he ground his teeth and waited.

  ***

  As Jakarta navigated the computer screen, Colleen tried a bit of small talk.

  "How do you guys afford this place, anyway?"

  Jakarta turned away from the screen for just a moment and grinned, showing his teeth. "The sum in one's bank account is a simple computer record, after all."

  Colleen gasped. "I never imagined. This whole place is paid for with stolen money?"

  He shrugged and turned back to the screen. "More like created money. I simply add to the bank's holdings, I don't take it away from anyone else."

  She whistled. "Sheesh. I could do a lot with unlimited money."

  He made two more mouse clicks and a couple keystrokes. "What would you do?" he asked, turning back to face her.

  Colleen blinked a couple times. "Well… I guess the same things everyone would do. Take a cruise, buy a Ferrari, whatever."

  He laughed. "That’s not much of a list for unlimited wealth. I like that about you. Expecting possessions to make you happy is a sign of low character."

  The computer made a noise, and he turned his full attention back to the computer. "OK, Colleen, this is it. We're in their internal network now. Next stop, the GigaStar project.

  She sucked in a breath. "They don't know we're here?"

  He shook his head. "When I took down the firewall I took down their ability to detect intruders easily. There are only two ways they could find out about this. One is by checking their server logs tomorrow, which I'm sure they'll do, and the other is if one of their employees logs onto their network and checks who else is connected. The first one I'll fix before we log off by messing with their log files. The second is harder to prevent, but unlikely because of the hour.

  "It is possible, though, so to be safe I'll pop open a little window to monitor network connections, so I'll know if anyone else logs on. Maybe we'll also pop open their surveillance feeds. That'll help know if anyone's about to start looking for us."

  Jakarta clicked through a directory called surveillance. Each file represented a day's footage taken from cameras mounted around the offices of Electron Guidewire. He could only find recordings, not live feeds.

  The first one he opened turned out to be almost completely useless in terms of letting them know if someone else was monitoring them. It held recordings from cameras in the roof of the building. Soon he was fast-forwarding through scenes of EG employees coming out for cigarettes and, in some cases, lunch breaks.

  Then he saw footage that made the whole enterprise feel a lot more serious.

  He stopped fast forwarding and his jaw dropped open as Colleen gave a tiny scream.

  "Replay that," she breathed.

  In stunned silence, they watched a man standing near the edge of the roof, savoring a cigarette. But the smoke had only burned half an inch when a strong-looking man wearing a ratty, unshaven beard walked up behind him and calmly shoved him off the edge.

  "We just watched a murder," Colleen said when she was finally capable of words.

  Jakarta nodded. "That should clear up any questions you had about the kind of situation you're dealing with here," he said. "They killed one of my friends too."

  "I've got to tell Mike and Kathy," she said. "They said the guy who broke into Mike's house had a beard like that."

  "We'll get them in a bit," Jakarta said. "First, let's get back to work, before we get caught in here."

  He closed the video files and went back to looking for the GigaStar code. A few more moments of searching brought a shout of triumph to the young man’s lips. "Bingo! Now, to make the modifications."

  "What are you going to do, precisely?" Colleen asked. "How are you going to change the code to make it unworkable."

  Jakarta talked as he typed. "Well, I've been thinking about that since you guys brought me the flash drive. I want to make it as hard as possible for EG to notice the flaw, so this is what I've come up with. I'll put in a few lines of code that will destroy the program – actually wipe out the whole hard drive – unless a password is entered every twenty four hours."

  Colleen blinked. "
So you'll have to keep hacking in here once a night until you decide it's time to wax them?"

  He nodded. "Exactly. The benefit is that they will never be able to give a working copy to the NSA, because I'll only be logging into the Electron Guidewire server to enter the password, not the NSA server – that one’s too much for me. So even if I keep entering the code forever at EG, I'll never enter it at NSA, and thus every time they give the code to NSA the package will self-destruct in twenty four hours."

  She whistled. "That's beautiful, but it imposes quite a risk on you, doesn't it?"

  He turned to her and nodded. "It's worth it, though, to stop this thing."

  Colleen smiled at him. "Brave."

  Jakarta shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then nodded and turned away. "Now, let me write for a sec." With that his fingers began flying over the keys, entering new lines into the program.

  Colleen watched as the code poured out of him, scrolling up on the screen as he wrote. No doubt the man was brilliant. It was actually much harder than he let on, as Colleen knew quite well from her own experience. But he was flying through the code. This kind of talent could be earning him a seven-figure salary in Seattle or any of the big Silicon Valley companies. But of course, in private practice, he just created all the money he needed.

  A few minutes into the programming, one of the other windows on his screen beeped.

  Colleen's eyes went wide and Jakarta sucked in a quick breath. "Another network connection," he said, his voice just a bit too loud. "Someone at Electron Guidewire logged in. I knew I'd want those surveillance cameras. I need to get out of here now, before they check to see if anyone else is on."

  "Maybe they won't check," Colleen replied, hope threading through her voice.

  "Only reason for someone to be on at this hour is a security check," he replied. He returned to his coding, and now his fingers veritably flew over the keys. Colleen watched the login process as whoever was behind the new connection entered a password. In less than a minute, though, Jakarta was done, and about to close the text window.