Mina Cortez: From Bouquets to Bullets

by Jeffrey Cook

  The Director led her through two security doors, pushing in a code before both she, then Mina, had to pass fingerprint, eye recognition and voice recognition tests at each station. As they went, the Director talked, sounding like she was not pleased in the least to have Mina there. “This installation was largely protected by anonymity. The programming center was moved here thirty years ago. Black marketeer infiltration into both military ranks and a handful of private security services complicated security for programming and data loading onto highly sensitive chips. Reactionary terrorists also hit the Houston facility around that time, using a targeted EMP pulse to shut down everything, and destroyed a lot of the chips in development. Since then, the data on chips is better protected, though a strong enough pulse will still cause reboot and recovery periods. Everything needed for high level testing was here, but since production continued in Redmond, most people assumed the programming was also done there.”

  Mina kept quiet, pretty certain that telling the Director that Scott may have mentioned that detail wouldn't help any at this point.

  “Despite that, no one trusted a bit of misdirection to hold up, however much appearances were maintained,” the Director continued. “This place has state-of-the-art security. This sub-basement doesn't exist on any maps or blueprints. The elevator system shouldn't be obvious to most. Then there's the codes, plus three-step identity verification. If every person in a group doesn't pass each station, the doors won't open, to prevent people from taking a single worker hostage and forcing them to lead through security. Significant security resources are available should a single alarm be triggered. Additionally, every inch of this place is monitored by security cameras at all times.”

  The second set of doors opened when Mina finished her verification. Just inside the door, they were met by a middle aged man. Only a few inches taller than Mina herself, he was heavyset and looked even thicker due to a full, slightly unkempt beard and thick glasses. He wore rumpled clothing and smelled like he'd been in that same set of clothing for a couple days. Over it all, he wore a taupe gray jacket with ivory lettering on the arms and back reading 'SECURITY', though he didn't look much like any security guard Mina had ever seen. Given the cramped quarters and stale air of the place, she decided she wouldn't mind not seeing him again any time soon.

  “Miss Cortez, this is Fulton Hawkins, director of security. Fulton was the one who first reported multiple programmers missing and found the floor supervisor's body.”

  Mina was certain that Fulton Hawkins had some kind of title he was used to going by, or at least would typically be Mr. Hawkins, Chief Hawkins or Director Hawkins, to those outside the facility. Based on Director Richter's subtle body language, the director didn't think much of Hawkins, and insisting on forgoing any hint of formality was an intimidation technique. She was also sure it was working, given the way the basement troll shied away from her boss. Mina still didn't like her much, but suddenly felt a certain tiny amount of perverse pride at the reaction.

  After a couple of moments of uncomfortable staring, Fulton seemed to realize it was his turn to talk. “Normally, all the stations are monitored from the electronic security room. Accessing it requires going through an additional layer of security, with different codes. My security chip syncs with the algorithm it uses to generate the codes,” he explained, drawing a quirked brow from Director Richter and an impatient glance from Mina. “That means that I could open the door, but no one else. I can see the whole facility from in there. The cameras shut down, and the doors locked me in. The University is on its own power grid, and we have our own backup down here. That shouldn't have been possible. And had there been any serious interruption, it should have set off an alarm to at least get someone checking things out. We're too far underground for me to call out using my subdermal comm, so I had to wait ‘til systems came back up to get out. I couldn't have been stuck in there for more than ten minutes, max. When I got out, the supervisor was dead. Someone had shot him in the head. He was just ...” Fulton gestured. “... just lying over there, face down. No signs of a struggle or anything. All of the programmers who had been on duty were gone. Again, no struggle, no nothing. The cameras caught nothing. No alarms went off, but all records of entries and exits were wiped for a half hour period. Any of the programmers could have pulled off that kind of hack, but not many others. This is high-level stuff. Even they should have set something off if they'd tried to hack it.”

  He led them around the facility, cramped, kept cool, full of some of the highest-end computers Mina had ever heard of. Basement troll heaven. She could see Scott being very happy in here ... though probably even happier if a couple of the lights had been a bit higher. She was almost positive he'd hit his head a couple times while getting acclimated. As soon as the brief tour, which included the security room, ended, Director Richter thanked him with a distinctly 'you are dismissed now, Fulton,' tone to the politeness. Despite the few options in places to go, he found somewhere to disappear.

  “Miss Cortez, you'll be given full access to all of the crime scene photos. Both of the other city agents have been down here and surveyed the scene. There are painfully few people to be interviewed. You just talked to the primary one,” she began. “Obviously, Fulton Hawkins remains a suspect, but he's under almost constant monitoring. He's also been here for several years with no hint of any incident. Whatever else he is, Fulton is, historically, honest and good at his job of watching screens and programming security codes. If he had anything to do with this, he's made no contact whatsoever with the hostages.”

  Mina was already trying to envision the scene, and running through the reactions she could imagine from Scott, and a handful of other people like him, to being kidnapped. Following the directions and locations Hawkins had given them, Mina moved to examine Scott's work station while Director Richter continued.

  “All of the computers have been swept for any signs of a clue as to what happened. No one seemed to have left any kind of warning messages or hints. Everything was undamaged and in full working order. The only hint of violence was, obviously, the supervisor's death via a single shot to the back of his head. Going by his expression and posture, he did not appear unduly alarmed. We're fairly certain that he was taken by surprise near the start of the kidnapping. We're also quite certain that this was, at least in part, an inside job. Someone with extensive knowledge of this facility and its systems had to be involved. Even then, we have numerous inconsistencies.”

  Mina continued to search the workstation, looking for signs her friend had been working here, or what he was working on at the time. While most of the stations had small signs of the personalities and interests of the users, Scott's station was mostly clear aside from a coffee cup and a modified ocular implant interface. Given his home computer station, she was pretty sure he just hadn't had much chance to move any of his toys in yet.

  “Additionally, while the University grounds are quiet, a group that size would draw attention. In any direction, a group would have had to pass any number of buildings, and eventually, traffic monitoring cameras to get in and out of the university. No one on campus at the time saw any groups in the area. Authorized security has swept through every building on campus, out to the streets on all sides. We're monitoring every black market contact we're currently aware of for signs of additional chips becoming available, as numerous chips and programs were taken, but not wiped off of the existing computers. Everything was done within a narrow time frame, since the gap in the cameras, as Fulton indicated, is not long.”

  Mina approached the Director again, talking more quietly now, with one big question remaining on her mind, above and beyond the mysteries presented by this case. She could absolutely see the value both in the programs, and especially the people capable of creating those complex programs. The motivation was simple. The ways to pull off the disappearing act weren't, but obviously those had been under analysis for a while by the AIA

  “So ... why me? You could call other agent
s and specialists in. You have two other agents, and you obviously know the case. I mean, sure, I appreciate knowing what's going on here ... but isn't this kind of a breach of protocol? Scott is my friend. I'd do anything to find his kidnappers, but this is ...”

  Director Richter cut her off, narrowing her eyes. “We are pursuing every angle. This is a matter of security on the highest level, and I trust you to act professionally. If I didn't, you wouldn't have gotten that chip, Miss Cortez. However, you misunderstand. Every other programmer here had a significant work record and history with the facility. Mr. Szach was a borderline case. He had a history of system hacking, but his profile indicated that this tendency was benign. Nonetheless, he almost didn't get the assignment. He was the newcomer, and in his first day, received a black mark for a near altercation with his supervisor. When this happened, he was under review and at risk of losing the job right after getting it. At this time, we brought you in on the case due to your familiarity with Scott Szach's habits, because evidence suggests that he is currently our primary suspect.”

  Chapter Ten

  Despite the shock of the news, and her obvious conflicts over it, Mina had been expected to continue her work and go about her day like any other. Throughout much of the day, she was glad for the chip's ability to let her go into near auto-pilot for many tasks without risk of mistakes. Her mind was much more on the data drive in her pocket than the flowers in her hands. She had to keep herself from fidgeting with it as she thought. The drive had the record of Scott's argument with his supervisor, as well as extensive records of his history of hacking the school's systems, along with the service records of the rest of the programmers.

  That afternoon, between her two actual flower deliveries, she was given additional information and assignments. Whoever was on the inside had to have help from someone within the black market or some other criminal organization. All of the agents in the city were following up on various leads, and Mina would be no exception. The following day, following training, she was going to be sent into the International District on a fake delivery to look into one of the likely fronts for black marketeers with the resources to move counterfeit skill-chips.

  Mina was so lost in that train of thought that she almost missed her mother talking to her near the end of the workday.

  “Mina, honey ... it's time to go.”

  “Wha ... oh? Another delivery?”

  “No, honey. Your dad has the van ready. I know you haven't had much chance to pack, but they've already arranged for your new apartment. We thought you might like to take a look at the place and see what you're going to need. Amiko started getting some things together for you to move, so you wouldn't be moving anything too heavy or pushing yourself too hard after the difficulties.”

  “Oh ... I'll be sure to thank her. I can handle packing. I would like to see it, though,” Mina agreed readily enough. That much was true. In addition to just the thought of having her own place, she was liking the thought of having somewhere she didn't have to pretend to have her mind on flowers, deliveries, and landscaping.

  “Then get going. Your dad is waiting.” Mina's mother hugged her. “Thank you for the hard work around the shop. It's already making a big difference having you here, honey.”

  The trip to the apartment wasn't a long one. It only made sense, of course, that Mina should be within easy biking distance of the flower shop. All in all, it wasn't a bad place. Modest, certainly, befitting her supposed income. She'd eventually get an upgrade if she got married and combined incomes, or when she took over the business entirely. Until then, this would be her home. The elevator took them to the seventh story, the top floor.

  “Seriously, Dad, I can help with stuff. I've been making deliveries all day.”

  “There's not a lot just yet, sweetie. Just sit down at the window.”

  Looking out over her little section of West Seattle, she had to wonder if it was intentional that the chipping center recommended a place with such a view. Most of the neighborhood was older-style architecture, some of it dating back over a hundred years, to the reconstruction. Few other buildings in the area were taller than three stories, built in an era when earthquake paranoia was at its height. The building was also at the top of one of the region's many hills, giving Mina a fantastic view in two directions from her corner of the building. Nothing in her chip's knowledge stores indicated she had any particular lookout duties here, so, she figured, it might just be that if they were going to give their highly paid agent a lower-middle-class apartment, they at least gave her one with a view.

  Jim Cortez set down the last of what they'd brought. “This was in the blankets,” he said as he handed his daughter a note. Mina read it.

  Mina,

  Don't worry; I'll let you handle most of packing your own room, but here's enough to set up your kitchen. There's also some blankets and pillows so you sleep at the apartment, if you want. Also put in the music player in case you need to think. Some of us still have school, but Dad will partially let me off practice this weekend for an unpacking sleepover!

  Be seeing you,

  Miko

  After weighing the benefits of personal space against having access to her computer and her own bed, Mina finally assured her father she'd be fine for the night, and would be at work on time the next morning, even setting her chrono's alarm five minutes earlier to make sure she had plenty of time, while he was there, watching. As soon as he left, Mina took a few deep breaths and turned on the music player, trying to help herself relax enough to process everything. She settled in at one windowsill, looking out over the cityscape of her new home.

  Somewhere out there was one of her best friends. Her real employer had him at the top of a list of suspects, though far from the only one, at least. Regardless of the truth, he was now either working with or in the hands of someone dangerous enough to have raided the high-end facility. She would be given every chance to help discover the truth of the kidnapping, but even Mina had to admit, the evidence looked quite strong that an inside presence had to have been involved. Her chip helped her run through the logistics, letting her perfectly picture the maps and camera patterns of the area. Every scenario she could easily come up with was impossible to execute within the time frame and data they had.

  Mina fidgeted with the drive. Scott currently looked like the strongest case for an inside job, not that she believed that for a second. To clear him, though, she'd still have to follow all of the leads and take advantage of the one thing she had that the other agents didn't—direct familiarity with one of the victims. Even if he wasn't involved with the kidnapping, whoever was almost certainly wanted Scott, and the others, for their knowledge and computer skills. As such, her knowledge might still be valuable in tracking them down if he had any access to systems with internet access, or some way he might be able to plug into something that did.

  Despite her best intentions to eventually try to make something of a bed for herself, Mina ended up falling asleep in the windowsill, still trying to find the one detail someone had missed. By the time she drifted off, she was still no closer than when she started.

  * * * *

  Mina woke with a start. Only her newly chipped reflexes kept her from tumbling out of the window. All the chipping in the world wasn't going to do a thing about the crick in her neck. She took her bike into work, arriving ten minutes before her shift, and promptly reset her chrono alarm to five minutes later. Any hint of smugness didn't last long, before her mother set her to work arranging the display cases.

  She'd only just finished with the displays when the phones turned on for the day, and, as she expected, she promptly got calls for three deliveries. As it turned out, use of the van had been a first-day thing, since all the deliveries were in biking range. She made the one legitimate delivery first, then plugged in the code her chip gave her to hack her tracker and falsify her location, then headed for the hidden gym. Agent Park's idea of 'easy' was no kinder than the day before, but at least this time she
knew what to expect. What she didn't expect was how quickly the program was taking hold. Even in just her second day, she showed measurable improvement in her top speeds, and especially her balance and greater ability to use her off-hand and off-foot. The progress was almost distracting from her contemplation of the case.

  “Not bad, Cortez, but try to keep your mind a little on the exercise.”

  “Right. Sorry. Scott being a suspect is ... just ...”

  “—a lot to take in for you, yeah,” Agent Park said with a sigh. “There's a reason we have policies in place to avoid that sort of thing. Don't take it personally, Mina. I learned about taking cases personally the hard way. One of my former partners—he was a good cop—an actual cop, not an agent. We'd worked together about five years and were pretty close. Jonas was the first time I got to be the one to give the chips-are-a-tool-not-a-crutch speech.”

  “There's a speech?” Mina said breathlessly as she tried to keep up with the treadmill.

  “Only among a few cranky old men. Chips never replace instinct. Especially in our line of work. They're always handy, but if you're the type to get the Inquisitor chip, odds are good you have a good sense for things, and it won't always agree with the chip. Usually I say trust your gut. Programmers are good, but they don't do what we do and can't prepare for everything.” He sighed, turning the treadmill off, calling a break while he got back off the tangent.

  “So, anyway, I'd been working with Jonas five years. I got to be the cranky old man. He got a little too enthusiastic and got himself hurt, bad. He didn't even see the attacker, but I'd seen the M.O. I'd practically seen the same ruined leg before, on Tommy Escalante.”