The Agenda, page 23
“Mr. President, I have Director Leif Morrison, National Clandestine Service Chief, on the line for you. He says it’s urgent.”
“Put him through.” His phone beeped again and he lifted the receiver. “Yes, Leif, what can I do for you?”
“Mr. President. Is it true that Croft Technologies has been given a contract to install its SecuraVault system nationwide?”
Starling’s eyebrows rose slightly at the odd question asked with such urgency. “Yes. I gave the order last night.”
“Mr. President, it’s essential that you halt the rollout of the SecuraVault system immediately, and detain anyone involved in the installation.”
Butterflies assaulted Starling’s stomach. “What? Why?”
“The Assembly is behind it, Mr. President. They’re behind everything. They created the crisis so that you would install their system. We’re playing right into their hands!”
Starling gripped his prize pen, given to him by his late wife on their first anniversary. “Are you sure? Harry recommended it to me personally. He’s known Roger Croft for decades. Hell, I met the man last night right here in this office.”
“Mr. President, Vice President Vance was a member of the Assembly.”
The pen dropped, along with his jaw. He stood, running his hand through his thinning hair. “Bullshit.”
“No, sir. We have his confession on tape. He confirmed he was a member, and named six others. They’re all dead or soon will be.”
Starling twigged on a word that had been said.
Was.
“Do you know where the Vice President is?”
“No, sir, but he’s dead. Executed by a former Assembly agent.”
He dropped into his chair. “And you’re certain Croft is involved.”
“Yes, Mr. President. You have to stop the installation of the SecuraVault system immediately, otherwise the Assembly will have complete control of all of our systems.”
Starling closed his eyes. “What have I done?”
“Mr. President, please. Minutes count.”
Starling bolted to his feet. “Understood, Leif. I’ll issue the order immediately.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. You’re doing the right thing.”
“From your lips to God’s ears, Leif. Because if you’re wrong, I could be condemning millions of people.”
65
Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
“Sir, I might have found something!”
Leroux glanced up at Randy Child as he rushed into the operations center, waving a tablet. “What have you got?”
Child reached Leroux’s station. “I was at my desk, pulling footage on those bodies we found at the Port of Baltimore, and I might have something.”
Leroux’s eyebrows shot up, a wave of guilt washing over him. “Shit, I forgot about that. What did you find?”
Child tapped at his tablet then handed it to Leroux.
“What am I looking at?”
“Security camera footage showing how they were killed.”
Leroux watched in awe as a woman, dressed as Nadja Katz had been, swung across the dockyards on top of a shipping container, leaping to another, before blasting the doors open as she continued through the air.
His heart leaped. “Is that—?” He hesitated to say it as two women slid down a rope to the ground with Katz.
“I believe it’s Agent White and Lee Fang.”
Leroux gasped as he saw Fang drop hard to the ground, gripping her side. “She’s been hit!”
“Yes, sir, I believe so.”
The three women ran out of frame. Leroux handed the tablet back. “Were you able to track them?”
Child nodded, bringing up another video showing a box van leaving the docks. “I believe they’re in this vehicle. It came from the general vicinity of where they were running toward, and…” He pulled up a frame capture of the main gate. “…Katz is clearly behind the wheel a short while before.”
Leroux sucked in a quick breath, some hope returning. “Were you able to trace it?”
“I caught it on a few video cameras, and I’m pretty sure it was heading south, out of the city. They could be anywhere, but my money’s on DC.”
“Why?”
Child shrugged. “Hunch, I guess. If you look at the time it would take for her to get to DC, then to here, it roughly coincides with when she turned herself in.”
Leroux nodded. “See what you can find.”
“You got it.”
Child headed for the door when Morrison rushed into the room.
“I’ve confirmed with the President that Croft’s company was given the contract, and the system is rolling out nationwide as we speak.”
Child turned toward them, one hand holding open the door. “They’re here already.”
Morrison froze and Leroux spun in his chair. “What?”
“Croft Technologies, right? I saw about a dozen of them in the lobby earlier.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Child shrugged. “I didn’t know you were looking. I’ve been at my desk.” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Nobody answered, Leroux already grabbing his desk phone. “Get me security. It’s urgent!”
“One moment, please.” He heard the call transferred then picked up a moment later.
“Security desk.”
“Hold for Director Morrison.” He handed the phone to his boss.
“This is Director Morrison. Immediately arrest all Croft Technologies staff and contractors on site. Shoot them if they try to touch a computer. Understood?”
Apparently they did, Morrison handing the phone back.
Leroux hung it up. “I hope we get to them in time.”
Morrison shook his head. “Who the hell knows? The President is ordering the immediate halt and detention now, but it’s been nearly a full day. If they were after a specific system, they would have prioritized it so they’d install there first. We may already be too late.”
Tong stepped over. “They had to know they’d be caught, right?”
Leroux nodded. “Eventually, I guess. But would they be? If it weren’t for Katz, we would never have found out about Croft.”
“Right, but if their system is installed, wouldn’t we get suspicious when the hacks continued?”
“I’d hope so.” Leroux stood, staring at the displays still showing news reports from across the nation. He spun toward Morrison. “Whatever they’re going to do, it has to be soon. Very soon.”
Morrison nodded. “We need to find Croft.”
Tong sighed. “If only we had a starting point.”
Morrison’s head swiveled toward her. “We do! The President said he met with him and the Vice President in the Oval Office last night.”
Tong and Leroux exchanged excited glances.
“Security protocols would have been in place because of the crisis,” said Leroux.
“Which means they’d have done an IMSI capture of his phone when he arrived.”
“And scanners would have been activated all over DC.”
“Which means we can track him anywhere in the city!”
“Run with it!”
Tong grinned and rushed back to her terminal, leaving a lost Morrison standing in front of an excited Leroux.
“What the hell is an imzee?”
“I-M-S-I. International Mobile Subscriber Identity-catcher. They basically pretend to be a cellphone tower and scan for signals. We can pull phone numbers, text messages, intercept calls, listen in on calls, pretty much the works depending on the phone. They’re illegal and can only be used with a warrant. But in times of national emergencies, they’re automatically enabled so that we can track the movements of terrorists if they had their phones turned on during an attack.”
Morrison nodded. “Right, I read about those, I just never heard IMSI said out loud. So you can trace him with this?”
“If we can get our hands on the White House scan, we’ll know what device to look for, then see what scanners he triggered in the city, so we can see where he went, what calls he made, anything.”
“Can you just trace his cellphone?”
“Yes, once we have the number, assuming it’s on and has a signal.”
Morrison jabbed a finger at Leroux’s station. “Then get on it. I want to know the second you have him.” He headed for the door. “Now, I need to see what damage those Croft bastards did. Maybe we can get one of them to talk.”
“Do you really think they know what they’re doing?”
Morrison paused. “I did until you asked.”
Leroux stepped toward him. “That company has tens of thousands of employees. To install nationwide, they’re using most of them. There’s no way they’re all involved in a criminal conspiracy. At least not knowingly.”
Morrison frowned. “So we could be arresting patsies?”
“I’m willing to bet that the only ones that actually know what they’re doing, are the ones installing on the system the Assembly actually cares about.”
“And we have no idea which one that is.”
Leroux shook his head. “Not a damn clue.”
66
Seattle FBI Field Office
Seattle, Washington
Special Agent LaForge sipped on a pitiful cup of black coffee, courtesy the cafeteria at the Seattle FBI Field Office. The flavor may have been awful, but at least it contained the necessary caffeine to keep him going. His partner, though, seemed to be enjoying hers.
“Want another?” Alfredson tapped her empty glass.
LaForge eyed his still half-full one. “Nah, I’ll pass. I don’t think I could stand another cup of that shit.”
Alfredson shook her head as she rose from her seat. “I like it.”
“I’ve tasted that turpentine you call coffee, so no surprise there.”
Alfredson shot him a look. “You’ve never complained.”
“What would be the point?” He held up his cup. “You know, I used to think you couldn’t make coffee, but now I think maybe you actually make it that way on purpose.”
Alfredson’s eyes narrowed. “Oh?”
LaForge tilted his cup, regarding the putrid liquid. “Yeah, I think you actually like turpentine.”
Alfredson rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t know a good cup of coffee if it blew you.” She motioned toward the vending machines. “Want anything?”
“Something sweet. Let’s see if sugar can fuel the night.”
The doors to the cafeteria opened, and a confused security guard entered, her head on a pivot as she searched for someone in the nearly empty room. He had a feeling it wasn’t anyone in particular.
He rose and stepped toward her. “Problem?”
Her wide eyes fixated on him. “Are you an agent?”
“Special Agent LaForge.”
“Oh, thank God. There’s like nobody here! I just got a message.” She held up a piece of paper. “It says to immediately arrest all Croft Technologies employees on site, and uninstall any modifications they’ve made to our systems. It came from the President!”
LaForge glanced at his partner. “Told you I had a bad feeling about this.” He marched toward the doors, tossing an order over his shoulder. “Anybody armed, follow me!”
Several chairs scraped and he shoved through the swinging doors as he broke out into a sprint, footfalls hammering behind him as more joined the posse. He reached the control room where he had last seen the Croft employees, and opened the door, weapon in hand. He stepped inside and rounded the corner, the two employees still at the terminal.
“Stop what you’re doing, now!”
The first glanced over his shoulder, his jaw dropping as his hands slowly rose. The second kept typing away, staring at the screen. “Just a sec, I’m almost done.”
“Stop what you doing, now!”
The first rolled his chair away from his partner, his hands reaching for the sky. “Bill, he’s serious.”
Bill held a finger up as the other hand continued to type. “I’ve got like two more commands, then I’m done. Hold your horses!”
LaForge stepped closer. Whatever was going on had to be related to the national crisis. These people were here to install a security system that was supposed to protect against it, and if they were now to be arrested, they must be behind it.
And if this person were only two commands away from completing their task…
He fired two shots into Bill’s back. The Croft contractor’s body slumped on the keyboard, blood quickly spreading through his crisp white shirt.
LaForge motioned at the surviving contractor. “Take him into custody.” He turned to the FBI staff manning the room. “Get whoever you need in here and find out what they did to the system. These guys could be behind everything that’s been going on.”
The second employee’s eyes widened. “What the hell are you talking about? We’re trying to fix what’s going on!” He stared at his partner as he was dragged away, then glared at LaForge. “You didn’t have to shoot him! He was just installing security software!”
LaForge stared at him. “That’s what you say.” He pointed at the door. “Get him out of here.”
The room emptied of armed agents as Alfredson checked for a pulse. She shook her head slightly at LaForge.
No surprise there.
“Do you think he knew what he was doing?”
LaForge frowned. “No idea.” He sighed. “If he had just stopped typing, he’d be alive.” He dropped into a chair as a medical team entered the room, Alfredson directing them toward the body.
“Maybe the fact he didn’t stop means he knew.”
LaForge shook his head. “If this system is being installed across the country, I find it hard to believe they’re all involved. That would be thousands of people. Tens of thousands.”
Alfredson nodded. “All it takes is one.”
“I have a funny feeling he wasn’t the one.”
The tech they had been dealing with earlier cleared his throat as he joined them. “He might not have been the one, but someone is.”
LaForge looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”
“I just heard back from my NSA buddy. He traced that number for me, the one that our Utopian guy, Bixby, was communicating with.”
LaForge sat up a little straighter. “And?”
“And besides messaging with him, it was also in contact with several numbers at Croft Technologies.”
LaForge glanced at his partner, both smiling, a sense of relief washing over him for a moment. Croft Technologies was definitely involved. Now the question was whether the man he had shot was aware of it. He still doubted it.
And he had a feeling this one shooting, the first of his career, would haunt him for the rest of his days.
67
Assembly Detention Facility
Washington, DC
Sherrie fell back behind Vice President Vance’s chair and crouched, still gripping the pipe. Two men stepped inside, chatting in something that sounded like Tagalog, her training giving her a taste of many common languages so she’d at least recognize them for a debrief. They appeared unarmed.
Too bad.
She surged forward, swinging the pipe, grand slamming the first on the side of the head. He went down, unmoving, probably dead. His partner gasped, dropping the body bag he had been carrying, as Sherrie raised the pipe over her head. He turned to leave when she two-handed it down on the top of his skull, a distinct indentation messing with his hairline.
He fell through the still open door.
Someone shouted.
And an alarm sounded.
Shit!
She quickly confirmed neither had weapons, then tossed the pipe aside. It wouldn’t work on prepared, armed guards. She heard footfalls in the distance as she rushed to the tables filled with the tools of the torture trade. She stuffed half a dozen small knives in her belt, then picked up two good sized ones. She stepped to the door and listened, her trained ear counting four people approaching.
If this is it, it’s going to be one hell of a fight.
She sucked in a deep breath as she tried to calm her nerves, her experience at combat limited. She stepped back behind the chair, not happy with the prospect of being the sucker who had brought a knife to a gunfight. She jabbed one of the large blades into the back of the chair, then drew one of the smaller knives from her belt.
A guard appeared in the door, his weapon raised. She whipped the blade at him and he groaned, his hand reaching for the projectile now embedded in his throat. A second stepped into view, opening fire. Sherrie ducked behind the chair, Vance’s body shaking from the impacts as she drew a second blade. The bullets stopped as his magazine emptied and she popped up, whipping her blade at him as he reloaded. He twisted in time, the sharp implement burying itself in his forearm as she surged around the chair, pulling her second knife from the back. The guard’s eyes bulged as he slapped a new mag into the well, but it was too late.
She shoved the first knife into his belly, twisting, as the second sliced across his throat. Before he had a chance to hit the floor, she released her grip on both blades and disarmed the man, dropping to a knee as she took aim at the doorway.
Two more appeared.
She fired twice, one dropping, the second opening fire, but too high. She fired two more shots.
Then there was silence.
Except for the alarm.
She grabbed a second weapon and stuffed it in her belt, along with several magazines, as she glanced down both ends of what appeared to be a terrifyingly long corridor, considering what she was seeing. Door upon door, suggesting dozens of people might be held here against their will. Yet no more guards were visible.
How long will that last?
She rushed to the next door over and put three shots into the lock, then kicked it open. She rushed inside and dropped to her knees beside Fang. “I got out.”
Fang smiled. “I heard.”
Sherrie pressed the spare weapon in Fang’s hand and placed another magazine on her chest. “Safety’s off, fully loaded. You shoot anything that comes through the door unless it’s me. Got it?”
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