Mastermind- Rise of the Trojan Horse

by Tom Wheeler

  “I heard.”

  “Someone disconnected the security system, accessed the vault, and stole the gold, and nobody saw a thing. What do you know about Jonah Soul?”

  “Well, evidently someone did see something . . .”

  “Right, but he is dead.”

  I blinked, taking that in.

  “Jonah is somewhat charismatic, obsessed with work, elitist, a suit, although I didn’t have much interaction with him,” I answered.

  “A suit?”

  “Forgive me. He appeared to be wearing a mask behind his starched shirt, colorful tie, and matching slacks, coat, and socks. But who am I to judge?”

  Paradyse nodded slowly, scratching notes on her pad. Then she looked me in the eye and asked, “You don’t like ‘suits’?”

  “I don’t trust them.”

  “Who do you trust?” Paradyse stared at me, waiting for an answer.

  “Now, that’s a good question. Nobody. Not anymore. Emmanuel. Would you trust people if you were in my shoes?” I asked, having lived long enough to watch the trust I’d once had in people fade. I recalled my mom and dad warning me that when and if money was at stake, in any relationship, money normally trumped loyalty, despite the good intentions of people. I hadn’t understood back then, but now that I was older, I found it was true.

  She shrugged.

  “I also read up on him during my time at Phoenix,” I added.

  “And?”

  “I’m sure you know more than I do, but he made his billions in the computer industry as an investor in Sun Microsystems, Apple, and Microsoft,” I said, knowing a good bit of his background. “I believe he had a stint at IBM back in the day.”

  “Microsoft?”

  “According to my research,” I said, “he was a friend of Mark Allen’s, cofounder of Microsoft. In fact, Jonah was part of the Allen Institute for Artificial Intelligence—the MOSAIC project. His interest was deep learning. So,” I asked, “what do you know about this bank robbery?”

  “Not much,” she answered.

  “Except three people are dead,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Am I next?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Obviously I have not been privy to everything Phoenix has been involved with. I don’t need to find out I’m next on someone’s kill list to keep it that way.”

  “All we know is that Duncan said he had followed a woman to the bank and watched her enter with an empty sack and exit with a full one.”

  “Duncan?” I asked.

  “Ralph Duncan, the witness who told us about the robbery and is now dead.”

  “She’d have had to be a superwoman. That gold weighed what?”

  “Eight hundred pounds,” said Agent Ashton. “What were you building at Phoenix?”

  “Phoenix built a state-of-the-art car they call the Akula. While the car they have introduced cannot fly, the one I worked on could hover. That is the big announcement that’s coming in 2020. That, along with a state-of-the-art manufacturing facility, is it. At least as far as I know.”

  “The car hovers or flies?”

  “Hovers. I never saw it fly beyond a hover, but that was the idea. It has advanced AI.”

  “Which means what exactly?”

  “Artificial intelligence beyond Watson, if you are familiar with IBM’s AI. Phoenix’s version is called EVE.”

  “EVE?” she asked with a quizzical look.

  “It’s an acronym for Evolved Vehicle Eclosion,” I said, pausing. Paradyse still looked like she didn’t have a clue. “Eclosion is French for hatching. You’ll have to figure out any potentially clandestine reason for the name.”

  “This fellow Duncan said he had seen the woman’s head, and it was robotic. What about the DVD sent to NASA that is being used to blackmail you? What is on that DVD, and how is it connected to Jack Dawson?”

  “I didn’t think you knew about that.”

  “I called Dr. Hannah after I spoke with you. Most people don’t think they’re going to be arrested just because someone from law enforcement calls,” she said with a slight smile. “He told me. Are you keeping secrets, Mason?”

  I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. “Evidently not anymore,” I said, looking at Paradyse, who folded her hands on her lap. “I’m not being blackmailed—it just cost me my top secret status, which cost me my job. You know, just another day in paradise,” I said, flashing a nervous smile. Paradyse countered with a longsuffering look from under lowered brows.

  “Did you know the DVD existed before it showed up at NASA?”

  “Yes,” I said without elaborating, as my worst nightmare continued.

  A short pause followed.

  “Mason . . . ,” she said, as if to spur me on.

  “I was drunk and ended up naked at a condo with some strangers I met at a bar. Beyond that, I am in as much shock as you are. I knew there was a DVD, but I thought I’d retrieved the only copy.”

  “You made it yourself?”

  “Why does everyone think I would make it myself? Of course not,” I said, exasperated.

  “You have no idea what people do.” She paused. “Well?” she said inquisitively.

  I took another deep breath.

  “You’re telling me the DVD just showed up at NASA from an unknown source for an unknown reason at a random time?” asked Paradyse.

  “Exactly. I have no idea what is going on, but the only person who has been in my hurly-burly life from the time that DVD was made until now is Jack Dawson. It makes sense why they let me go so easily, though.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “When I told the three of them about the job offer at NASA, Adam was furious until they sent me out of the room and talked awhile. When I came back in, they appeared happy I was going to NASA. Then all they wanted was—oh geez.” I stopped short.

  “What is it?” Paradyse asked as my mind raced. I remembered the code but knew I couldn’t say anything, not yet.

  “Jack always appeared to be one step ahead of my life. He met me at Apple, then hired me away to Phoenix,” I said, without saying anything about the code.

  “So nobody had ever contacted you about the DVD before?”

  “Never. Dr. Hannah got it in the mail, not me. Why are we at the CIA?” I asked.

  “We also found code that our analysts are reviewing.”

  “Code?” I said as my heart pounded.

  “According to the forensic analysts, it’s some kind of actuator that—”

  “What was it used for? Sorry, I understand what an actuator is—ensures signals work correctly in automation.”

  “We don’t know. Do you know anything about the code?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she watched me closely.

  “No,” I said, lying.

  “We just can’t figure out why it was sent on the same DVD. Except for one reason . . . ,” she said, glancing down at the table as I waited for the other shoe to drop.

  Agent Paradyse Ashton hesitated. She sighed and then looked up at me.

  70

  Who said Murder?

  “We suspect Jonah Soul has connections to foreign governments,” she said as I took a breath. I closed my eyes.

  “Mason?”

  “Which ones?” I asked, feeling as if I’d dodged another bullet, although I was certain a barrage more were coming.

  “We aren’t sure.”

  She paused. I looked at her, knowing she was holding back.

  “The Russians may be funding Phoenix. At least that is what we suspect,” she admitted. I was stunned by the deceit I’d apparently been involved with.

  “You think Jonah had something to do with this? You said he was in Atlanta,” I asked, my mouth staying open. I remembered the face of the mysterious person I’d still never seen along with Jonah’s face popping up
in one of my dreams.

  “Yeah, he has a solid alibi. He says he is as shocked as everyone else,” said Agent Ashton. “But things aren’t adding up.”

  “Such as?”

  “I can’t say, other than we found black files on people that Jack was apparently blackmailing. There is a file on you.” I bit the inside of my lower lip. “But things aren’t adding up. For instance, there was no reference to the DVD you received.”

  “Still, I thought forensics could conclusively tell if a shooting was suicide or not?” I asked.

  The conference door opened before Paradyse could answer.

  “Hello, Mason,” said General Crane, stepping into the room. “I’m glad to see you are okay, son,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to me.

  “Well, that’s a matter of opinion,” I replied. “How are you doing, General? I haven’t spoken with you since the . . .”

  “I know. I’m doing well. I trust Agent Ashton has filled you in?” He looked up at Paradyse. I smiled, ignoring the nausea in my stomach.

  “Yes, sir, to the point where you needed to step in,” said Paradyse.

  “I spoke with Dhilan, Mason,” the general said. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is the last thing you want to talk about. If it’s any consolation, you may have uncovered some Russian agents working in the United States in areas of technology that we thought off-limits—at least to them,” he went on, gazing at me intensely as if that implicated me in some way.

  “I’m still not following . . . ,” I said, likely having a confused look on my face as I attempted to read whether they suspected me or not. “You actually think Phoenix Corporation is a Russian organization?”

  “We believe it may be funded by the Russian government to confiscate technology.”

  “But why wouldn’t they just have the organization in Russia? Or infiltrate Leon Tuss’s firm? Or NASA, for that matter? That doesn’t make any sense,” I said.

  “Perhaps they did infiltrate NASA,” said Crane, looking me in the eyes.

  “Except sending the DVD would be antithetical to that theory, or they are dumb as doormats, which would be its own paradox. Besides, how could anyone know I would wind up at NASA?”

  Crane’s eyebrows moved up and down at my question. “You are speculating on who sent it and why. Maybe that DVD is the reason someone shot Adam and Jack,” Crane opined as Paradyse’s eyes met mine.

  Paradyse looked at General Crane. She said, “I haven’t told him.”

  “Told me what?”

  “Well, we believe someone else was in the room with Adam and Jack. Besides the DVD, and, like I said, some things aren’t adding up.”

  “Have you looked at the video footage?” I asked. “Phoenix has more cameras than Fort Knox.”

  “Someone turned them off—all of them,” the general answered. “That is one of the mysterious issues.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Jack’s fingerprints are on the system, so we assume it was him,” said Crane.

  “Well, there you go,” I said. “Wouldn’t that confirm it?”

  “Jonah Soul’s fingerprints were on the door,” he said as my eyes narrowed.

  “Jonah? Agent Ashton just said he had an alibi and was as surprised as we were.”

  “What do you know about Phoenix?”

  I took a deep breath before speaking. “According to Jack, Phoenix was a Steve Jobs invention that started years ago. Adam and Jack worked for Apple and followed Jobs to NeXT. When Jobs died, Adam and Jack started Phoenix and recruited Jonah Soul to finance the endeavor. He demanded he be CEO as part of the deal. And, as they say, the rest is . . .”

  “How’d they find Jonah, do you know?”

  “Someone referred Jonah . . . ,” I said as my mind raced. “Murphy, Richard Murphy, one of the developers, at least according to Jack,” I said.

  Paradyse nodded with an expression that said she knew more about Murphy than I did.

  “But what does Jonah have to do with it?”

  “Still working on that,” said Paradyse, giving me a look.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. The expressions on their faces appeared to be telling me something was coming.

  “Well . . . ,” she said, “we could use your help finding out.”

  I took a deep breath, relieved nobody had linked me to the code. Yet. “Last time I heard someone say that, I was sent back to Iran,” I said, trying to mask my secret.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Never mind. What would you like me to do?”

  “We want you to call Jonah to express your sympathy regarding Jack and Adam,” Paradyse said. “Tell him you lost your job over something in your past. Be honest if you have to, since he may know. Then see if he needs any help.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Mason,” said Crane, “the United States of America was just hit by a nuclear warhead, and the president was almost assass—”

  “I know, General. I was there. But I didn’t sign up for this . . .”

  “Who did?” asked Paradyse, as if instinctively.

  “You did, I am assuming,” I said, looking her in the eye. “Right?” I asked, as she nodded as if I had scored a point.

  “Dr. Hannah is on his way to Edwards as we speak,” the general said. “Why don’t you tell Jonah you heard the news and have a meeting near Sunnyvale. Make yourself available to him.”

  “What’s Dhilan got to do with this?”

  “He is preparing for the meeting—because of the recent events, he is recruiting someone to help in your absence. He may need you.”

  “Okay, but that quickly?”

  “You should be in shock, so yes, that quickly. If you wait, he might become suspicious.”

  Paradyse spoke again as my mind continued to race.

  “One other thing. We want you to look at the code on this DVD and let us know if you can verify what the actuator was created for and where it might have been developed,” she said as heat rushed to my face. “Here is a duplicate of the DVD,” she said, handing it to me as if handing me a death sentence. “Dhilan has a copy as well.” I figured I had a week at most before I had to spill the beans that might just put me in jail.

  

  71

  Islamophobia

  October 7

  Los Angeles, CA

  While Dhilan gave some credence to premonitions, he believed most dreams were rooted in subconscious thoughts typically disconnected from reality and therefore irrelevant. That said, the fact that Mason had told him he’d had a dream of impending doom gave him more incentive to keep his pistol in the glove compartment of his car; particularly since he knew Mason had predicted the melee at the UN, and domestic and foreign tensions were at a boiling point. Despite the fact that Dhilan and his friend Pierre kept a low profile, two brownish men together could spark unwarranted attention. Of course, traveling through the TSA meant his firearm had remained in his vehicle in Florida.

  As for Pierre, Dhilan’s associate at Edwards Air Force Base, he wanted to live as a free man, just as the president had insisted in another one of his speeches. “Free” meaning fearless of mean-spirited people. It was the same speech they’d both heard for years now; “don’t let the terrorists win by altering your lifestyle.” He also supported the government’s efforts to keep citizens safe via DECREE 2020, despite the slippery slope he knew the country was taking with its democracy. Better safe than sorry was what he told Dhilan as they maneuvered through Los Angeles, his firearm in his own glove compartment. Just in case.

  “Stop there!” Pierre shouted, peering out the window, pointing from the passenger’s side of the car at a Jiffy Lube.

  “Geez, Pierre. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” said Dhilan as his friend looked out the window.

  “Well,
stop!” he repeated.

  “Pierre, we need to head back. Our meeting is in three hours,” Dhilan protested. “It doesn’t look that safe.”

  “That’s Sunset Boulevard just ahead. Anyway, do you really want to hear me continue to complain about that stupid dashboard light?” Pierre responded, making a face.

  “Why now?”

  “Oh please, Dhilan. It’s right here. We’re 90 miles from Edwards. And, like you said, the meeting isn’t until 7:30.” Dhilan sighed and reluctantly turned in to the Jiffy Lube. Pierre jumped out of the car. Dhilan walked in a moment later.

  “How long?” Pierre asked the greasy attendant who had just walked into the office, wiping his hands on a rag.

  “I’m just about finished with this car. I have one more, then yours is next, so I’d say no more than an hour,” he said, watching Dhilan enter.

  “Perfect. Anyplace around here we can go to kill some time?” Pierre asked.

  The attendant nodded to the sign on the corner that read “Circus.”

  “What’s inside?” asked Dhilan.

  “That’s the surprise,” said the mechanic, sliding into Pierre’s car to pull it into a parking space just outside the bay area. “But it’s like Vegas,” he said out the window.

  “Meaning?” Pierre asked.

  “People do whatever the hell floats their boat,” he said as he exited the car.

  “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” said Pierre, smiling.

  The attendant smiled back.

  “Seriously, Pierre? I’m here because of what happened to Mason on one of his fishing expeditions. Besides . . .”

  “I know, you told me about his ‘dream,’ ” he said, using air quotes. “Except this isn’t illegal, we haven’t done anything, and Allah’s got our back,” he said.

  “Then why do you carry a gun in your car?” Dhilan asked, giving Pierre a look. “Although I’m not complaining since mine wouldn’t make it through the TSA.”

  “That’s different,” he said as Dhilan pursed his lips, heading down Sunset Boulevard, the stunning sun blinding their eyes. Dhilan lowered his sunglasses from the top of his head.

  “Looks like another beautiful sunset is coming,” said Pierre as they glanced both ways to ensure they safely crossed Sanburn Drive, walking toward the unfamiliar store. Dhilan approached the glass door and pulled open the right side, setting off a chime noting their entrance. Several people were standing at the counter, one man pointing to what appeared to be small plants under the glass, the smell indicating it was the kind of plant that made you fly. Neither Dhilan nor Pierre used pot since it could end their careers, but this was California, Dhilan thought, wondering if he could get away with just a toke or two. Perhaps it would relieve his anxiety, particularly since it didn’t come with calories. Precious calories that Dhilan was counting in order to shed the 10 pounds he had struggled to lose for most of his adult life.