Code Conspiracy, page 8
“But you can’t tell until you look at the computers, right?”
She tipped her head. “You’re learning.” She dragged her chair out from her workstation and plopped into it.
Her fingers on the keys woke up the computer and she checked through her processes. “Still working and still making headway into the stealth database.”
“Amit works over there?” Gray jerked his thumb toward another bank of computers.
“Yeah, and I have his codes. He didn’t have a choice.” She sat in Amit’s chair and cranked it up so she was eye level with the displays.
“He’s coming at the database from another angle, but it’s the same database of communications and email traffic. I know he’s looking at the weapons stash in Nigeria, but I’m not completely sure where he is with that. We don’t necessarily share.”
She entered Amit’s passwords to access his computer and tapped into the dark government database that they’d both stumbled onto.
With Gray hovering over her shoulder, she flicked her fingernail at the monitor as lines of text scrolled down the screen. “This is it. I think he broke in even further.”
“What does it all mean? What are those lines of text?”
“They’re entries in the database—emails, files, even text messages.”
“And these are the people setting up Denver?” He dragged over a stool and straddled it. “Can’t you just enter some search criteria to narrow down the conversations?”
“We can and we have, but most of the text is in code. Even if we search for Denver, for example, nothing will return because his name isn’t used in the messages. We would have to crack the code first, and that’s not necessarily what we do—even Olaf.”
“Then it’s a good thing others do it.” Gray’s hands shook as he scrabbled for the phone in his pocket.
Jerrica pressed a hand against her chest. “What are you saying? Do you have the code deciphered?”
“Some of it.” Gray scrolled through his phone. “Try entering these words—fickle, Monday, scope.”
Jerrica stopped the scan process and switched to a search mode. “Repeat those words.”
Gray said the three words again, and Jerrica entered them into the search field. The words popped up on the screen in yellow highlight.
“Can you print this out?” Gray jabbed a finger at the screen.
“I will, but let’s not wait.” She swung the monitor toward Gray. “Can you do it online?”
“Yep.” He tapped his phone and held it up to the screen, mumbling under his breath, his gaze tracking back and forth between the computer and the phone.
He swore and smacked his phone facedown on the desk. “This is it, Jerrica. This database is outlining the plan.”
“What plan?”
“The plan to stage a sarin attack on US soil and blame it on Major Denver.”
Chapter Seven
Gray could barely get the words out of his mouth, past his thick tongue. These people, whoever they were, planned to pin this on Denver. How? Why?
Jerrica blinked. “Sarin? This is the plan Denver was uncovering?”
“Who is this, Jerrica?” Gray slammed his fist next to the keyboard. “Who are these people?”
“Can’t tell you that yet. All we know is that it’s connected to the government, but it’s not a standard government database. It’s under the radar. There’s not a name or a government official we can connect it to.”
“We need to find out before this attack is carried out.”
A crease formed between Jerrica’s eyebrows. “How are they going to blame Denver for this when he’s still missing?”
“That’ll make it easier for them.” He skimmed a hand across his head. “Denver’s going to have to come in. If he’s under military arrest, he can’t be blamed for anything.”
“Really?” Jerrica scooted back her chair and crossed her legs at the ankles. “He can still be accused of the setup if not the implementation.”
“I wonder if Denver knows any of this?”
She flicked a finger at his phone. “He must, if he’s the one who gave you the code.”
“He did give me the code, which he got from someone else, but he doesn’t have access to the files here.” He hunched forward and planted his elbows on his knees. “Nobody but us has access to this. Do you think all this data is going to tell us who’s behind the plan? It has to be someone high up.”
Jerrica cinched his wrist. “Maybe you can help with that, Gray. You know these people. You rub elbows with them.”
He searched her green eyes for the usual signs of disdain reflected there when she spoke of his family. They glinted back at him with hope and enthusiasm.
Her grip on him tightened. “Can you do it? Will you do it?”
“If it means getting to the bottom of this and stopping a terrorist attack, of course. I don’t have any loyalty to people who are willing to destroy this country...do you?”
Jerrica’s cheeks flushed and the jewel in her nose glinted as she flared her nostrils. “I never did. That’s not what my family was about.”
“All right. I’m not going to get into a battle of the families here.” He brushed a lock of black hair from her hot cheek. “But in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in New York and my family and my family connections are all in DC.”
“Maybe we need to take a trip to DC to visit your family. They know you’re stateside? I can’t imagine you’re here on official business.”
“I’m not. I’m on leave, and my family knows it. They did invite me to their annual Memorial Day bash, though. That might be the place to start.”
“Then it’s time for a family visit.”
He cocked his head at her. “You never wanted to meet my family before—when we were together.”
“I didn’t figure they’d be all that interested in meeting the daughter of Jimmy James. I thought you were keeping me away from them. Did you even tell them you were dating the daughter of the infamous survivalist who got into a shootout with the FBI?”
As Gray answered, he shifted his gaze to his phone and the code Denver had sent. “I told them.”
“And?” Jerrica tapped the square toe of her boot on the cement floor.
“They weren’t thrilled.” Gray shrugged it off. His parents’ opinions about the women he dated, even this woman, didn’t matter to him.
Jerrica traced the edge of her phone. “Is that why you dumped me?”
“That had more to do with your work at Dreadworm...and your association with Olaf...than any outside opinions. And that was a mutual dumping.”
“Only because you were acting like an ass.” Her lips pressed into a tight smile. “And now here you are.”
“Who’s acting like an ass now?” He ruffled her hair. “Don’t rub it in.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” She dropped her long lashes and jerked in her chair. “Speaking of codes, I just got an alert from Kiera’s message board. I need to check it.”
Jerrica sprang up from the chair in front of Amit’s computer and scurried to her own desk. As Gray looked over her shoulder, she brought up a website with a discussion board for a popular TV show.
“Zombies? That’s appropriate.” Gray drew up a chair beside her as she clicked on a message thread.
“What are you looking for?”
She ran her finger down the user names. “A message from Deadgirl.”
Gray slapped at a prick of uneasiness on the back of his neck. “Laying it on kinda thick, isn’t she?”
“It fits for the venue. Don’t read anything into it.” She hopped in her seat. “There she is.”
Jerrica clicked on a message from Deadgirl and read aloud. “I think they should’ve blown up the bridge to Bristol to stop the zombies, and my favorite episode this season is five.”
“Okay.” Gray scratched his chin. “Do we need another cipher decoder to figure this out?”
“No, we have our own code. Bristol stands for Washington Square Park and episode five is the time, so she wants to meet at Washington Square Park at five o’clock. The zombies? You can figure that out. Easy.”
“Maybe too easy?”
“Who would know to look for our communications on a discussion board for a TV show?”
“That gives us some time for lunch and to start deciphering the communications from this database. We know the what and where, but we still need the when and the who to stop this thing.”
“I suppose the why doesn’t matter, does it? The whys are always the same—power, control, probably money.”
“You don’t really believe what your father built had nothing to do with power and control, do you? He was an autocrat. He ruled that compound with an iron fist.”
She whipped her head around. “I never defended what he did, but the FBI didn’t have the right to come in and kill innocents.”
“Jimmy James opened fire first, Jerrica. You told me the story yourself.”
“I know, but the women, the children? My mother, my brother...” She put a hand over her eyes as the pain stabbed her heart.
Gray scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her. “I know. I’m sorry. Everyone knows it could’ve been handled differently. That’s why your lawyers got you such a huge settlement.”
“Blood money.” She dashed a tear from her face, and then pointed at Amit’s computer. “That has to be done printing out soon. When it is, we’ll get lunch and bring something for Amit—along with the good news that we can decode the databases we found.”
“Deal.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed her forehead.
Jerrica didn’t like talking about the raid on her father’s compound, which he’d egotistically and ironically called Jamestown. Jimmy James had been stockpiling weapons and ranting and raving against the government for years, starting to challenge authorities on government lands. The FBI had reacted and then overreacted, and Jerrica had lost her entire family in the shootout.
Lawyers had swooped in on behalf of her and the other survivors, and she’d won a multi-million-dollar settlement and had been sent to her mother’s sister, eventually taking her aunt’s married name, West.
Jerrica had a reason to be paranoid and he’d hated to further enforce that paranoia, but the world they inhabited was a scary place.
Olaf, who’d once worked for the federal government, had taken advantage of Jerrica’s situation. He’d recruited her, groomed her to be a hacker and eventually take over Dreadworm. Gray didn’t trust the man or like him.
“Earth to Gray.” Jerrica snapped her fingers in his face. “The printer has finally stopped. I’ll find a manila envelope and put that tome in my backpack.”
“Yeah, okay.” He pointed to Amit’s computer. “Should we put that back doing the job it was doing before?”
“I’ll do it. You grab the printout and check that shelf for an envelope or folder.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted and crossed the room to the printer. He gathered up the papers that contained what was gibberish for most but pure gold for them. The printout was useless without the code and the code was useless without the printout, but together they told a story of corruption, deceit, betrayal and death—he’d protect both the code and the printout with his life.
* * *
GRAY CHOMPED DOWN on the last bite of the taco from the Indian taco place Jerrica had dragged him to.
She dabbed his chin with a napkin. “I can tell you hated it.”
“Pretty good for tofu and other healthy junk.” He shook the paper bag next to him on the counter. “Are you sure Amit’s gonna like this?”
Jerrica slid from her stool and wedged a hand on her hip. “He’s a vegetarian.”
“A buddy of mine in Delta Force is Indian, and I can assure you he’s not a vegetarian.”
“If he’s in Delta Force, I’m pretty sure he’s no pacifist, either.”
“At the end of all this, Amit’s not going to be a pacifist. If he’s going to continue in this line of work, he’d better start packing heat.”
Jerrica snatched the bag from the counter. “Maybe he will.”
They made it back to Jerrica’s apartment building not far from the Indian taco stand on the Lower East Side by the same method they’d used before.
Gray didn’t take a breath until they’d reached Jerrica’s front door. As they eased it open, they faced Amit, bruised and battered, pointing a gun in their general direction.
Gray poked Jerrica in the back. “What did I tell you?”
“It’s just us. Are you all right?” She held out the bag. “We brought you lunch from Goa Taco.”
Amit’s shoulders dropped. “I slept most of the morning. I feel weak. Maybe the food will help.”
“Do you want me to bring it to you in bed?”
“I’ll try eating it here.” Amit sank to the sofa, the gun still attached to his hand.
“I’ll take that, Amit.” Gray reached down and loosened the gun from Amit’s stiff fingers. “You’re going to feel a lot better when we tell you our news.”
“I’m ready for some good news—more good news. Kelly’s friend messaged me back. Kelly’s on her way to Boston—no questions asked.”
“That’s a relief.” Jerrica returned to the living room, two messy tacos on a plate and a glass of water clutched in her other hand. “Do you need more meds?”
“Just some ibuprofen.” He held up a trembling hand. “No more stuff to knock me out. I’m groggy enough.”
Gray sat in a chair across from Amit and pulled Jerrica’s backpack into his lap. Reaching into the pack, he said, “We printed out a chunk of what was coming through on the database you hacked.”
Amit swallowed a bit of taco and choked, his dark eyes wide. “Print? You printed out something, Jerrica?”
“I know. Not standard procedure, but we have a code to decipher and the means to do it.” She held out her cupped hand containing two gelcaps.
“You’re kidding.” Amit wiped his nose with the back of his hand and dropped the pills into his mouth.
“Denver sent the code to me, hoping you guys would have something I could apply it to...and you did. We’ve already deciphered a few words, so I know we’re on the right track.”
“And...” Jerrica perched on the sofa next to Amit “...I got a meet message from Kiera.”
Amit said, “She must have something important to communicate to you if she wants to see you in person.”
“I just hope it’s not that they’ve also been compromised.” She dropped a paper towel on Amit’s thigh.
He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away. “Have you heard from Olaf yet?”
Gray’s jaw tightened as he waited for Jerrica’s answer. She hadn’t told him she’d contacted Olaf, but of course Dreadworm’s founder would have to know if his organization had been compromised.
“I haven’t heard from him.” She shrugged and wrested her hand from Amit’s hold. “He probably wants to keep a low profile. Can you blame him? If the Feds ever catch up to him, they’re going to arrest him.”
Gray plopped the folder on the coffee table. “And you, too. Aren’t you guys worried about arrest? It’s not just Olaf who’s under the gun.”
“If we can help thwart a terrorist attack and save a Delta Force major, we might just be able to talk ourselves out of federal prison.” Amit nudged the folder on the table with his toe.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.” Gray gathered up the papers. “Should I spread these out on the kitchen table?”
“That’s probably the best place.” Jerrica beat him there and cleared off a vase of colorful flowers and a few dead petals. She pushed aside a candle and stacked the four woven place mats on the edge of the table. “I’m going to put my laptop over here, too. I can probably write a program that will do the decoding for us, so we don’t have to match letter for letter.”
Gray shook his head. “I’m in awe.”
Amit grabbed the arm of the sofa and staggered to his feet. “I was using your computer in the bedroom. Hope that’s okay.”
“No problem.” She waved her hand at Amit. “Sit down. I’ll get it.”
When she left the room, Gray sat on the arm of the sofa next to Amit. “Have you ever met Kiera before? Do you even know what she looks like?”
“African-American woman. Small but muscular.” Amit held a hand at his shoulder. “Braids about down to here.”
“So, if a tall white woman with short hair shows up, we’re probably in trouble.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Jerrica strode past them and plugged in her laptop at the kitchen table.
“Gray was just asking about Kiera.”
Jerrica glanced up from the laptop and puffed a strand of hair from her eyes. “She communicated with me via the message board. This meeting is legit.”
“You thought the text Amit sent you was legit, too.” Gray pushed up from the sofa and planted himself at the table.
“Cell phones can be stolen. Nobody knows about this message board.”
“Except the four of you...and Olaf.”
Amit raised a hand. “Leave me out of it. I swear, I didn’t reveal anything when they had me. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have caved once they got me to their torture chamber, but those cops saved me.”
“I’m allowed to be suspicious.” Gray flipped open the file and brought up the code on his phone. “I’m going to try to decipher this first line.”
Jerrica grabbed the back of his chair. “Before you start, Sherlock, can you send that code to my email address?”
“Is it safe?”
“My email is encrypted. Only I could break into that.” She winked at him.
“Okay, here it comes. The subject is a recipe for buttercream frosting.”
