Aftershock, page 4
But she couldn’t let herself forget the real reason she was here. She had a client who needed her help. Even if that client didn’t currently know Alex Kayne existed, she was still a client. She still needed help. And right now, Ross Eckhart and Curie Motors appeared to be the bad guys in that scenario.
Kayne still had a job to do.
Whether Eckhart’s odd business move factored into that job, she’d have to figure out later. For now, all of this weirdness had created an opportunity, and she needed to take.
For five days the Curie Motors facility had been locked down tight, with only a skeletal team of security personnel and essential workers present. Two million dollars worth of security measures made this place tough to crack at the best of times, but it was ironically much harder with fewer people on site.
QuIEK could get her past any digital security measures as if they weren’t there. Camera’s wouldn’t see her, scanners and sensors wouldn’t notice her. Door alarms would mysteriously disable themselves, and keycard and biometric access would be wide open to her. If it was connected to a network, and that network had any outward-facing access point, QuIEK owned it.
But with no people in the building, beyond the roving teams of security personnel and a worker skeleton crew, there was no one for her to blend in with. She’d stick out as very noticeable—an unfamiliar face who had no business being in the building. It was a fast pass to a prison cell.
Kayne could handle herself if things ever came down to a physical altercation. But even she couldn’t take down an entire team of trained security guys, with orders to break the limbs and extremities of any intruders they found. And after a week of observing that security team in action, Kayne knew some of their patterns. They had the place sewn up pretty tight. There were no gaps wide enough for her to get in unseen.
Her original plan had been to go in disguised as a consultant, with clearances established ahead of time by QuIEK. Once she was on the inside, the security thinned a bit, and relied more on the digital gatekeepers. No need to police the halls of a building that almost no one could get into without being seen. She had a better chance of getting to that air gapped network without being spotted once she was past that first level security scrutiny.
But the polar vortex had turned that apple cart over. All nonessential personnel had been ordered to leave, the place was physically locked down, and the security team literally lived on site for five days. Kayne’s plan had been rendered worthless.
But today…
The spectacle of Ross Eckhart’s press conference, and the shocking announcement he’d just made, were practically custom-tailored to be the perfect distraction. And with personnel returning in droves, including consultants and contractors who were not necessarily regulars in the halls, there was now a shifting army of strange and new faces moving into the facility. Security was stretched a little thin, making sure all the people gathered to hear their boss speak were kept out of the facility. Fewer guards manned the doors and the scanners within the building, and they were at their limits dealing with checking and verifying identifications and credentials. As long as no one had a gun in their pocket or some other forbidden object, nearly everyone was being waved through with minimal scrutiny.
This was the time.
Kayne had dressed appropriately, wearing business clothing that made her look the part of a consultant, but wouldn’t restrict her movements. She kept her gear light—the sat phone and her smart watch were her connection and backup connection to QuIEK, respectively. She had a couple of paperclips in her pocket to use as a makeshift pick and tension wrench, in case you needed to pick a physical lock. And she had on a stylish pair of sneakers instead of pumps or heels, because running was just something she inevitably had to do.
There was always running.
At least the sneakers were somewhat high fashion, and didn’t look out of place among the health-conscious Austin crowd.
She would have loved to go in with more of an arsenal of tools and resources, but it was better to travel light. The first rule of illegally infiltrating a place was “carry only what you need.”
The first barrier to entry was simply getting through the crowd and into the queue for the security checks. Everyone on site was eager to speak with Eckhart personally, it seemed. Everyone except Kayne. She managed to squeeze and dodge her way through the crowd and get into a line leading through the first set of X-ray and ATI scanners. No one raised an eyebrow over the items she put into the little tray—her phone, watch, and paperclips were innocuous enough. And she wasn’t wearing anything unusual that might have caused her to be stopped and searched. She was the least interesting person in the queue.
Once on the other side of that set of security measures, she moved to the next. Here, the guards checked her credentials against their in-house systems. QuIEK had generated a full profile for her, including her photo, and she had created a driver’s license to match her data. The guard checked all of this, scrutinizing it, and Kayne was glad to see her work passed muster. She was ushered through and into the facility.
From the front entrance, she checked in for a temporary badge, which gave her access to certain areas. She was informed that the badge had a RF tag that allowed the building’s scanners to track everywhere she went. “So don’t lose your badge,” the woman behind the desk smiled. “Security holds people for twelve hours when they’re found without a badge, or if they end up in an area where they have no clearance.”
“Good to know,” Kayne smiled. “Twelve hours is kind of a long time.”
The woman shrugged. “They run a ton of background checks on anyone they detain, and it takes at least that long.”
Kayne understood. This was part of the “reasonable timeframe” that Texas courts used as a standard for detainment. Though she knew that it took far less than twelve hours to run even the most extensive state and federal background check. The timeframe was meant to be intimidating, to deter anyone from breaking the rules, or from ever breaking the rules again.
Kayne had no intention of being detained. But she did plan to break a lot of rules.
Almost from the instant her RF badge was generated, QuIEK had reprogrammed her access levels, and established an echo of her badge in the system. No matter where she went in the facility, the internal systems would register as someone and somewhere else. If anyone stopped her and scanned her badge, they’d see she had access to wherever she happened to be. And if they checked it against the system, it would dutifully report that she was in that location.
Of course, her image was being live-masked out of all video footage. She was effectively a ghost in the system.
She moved away from the lobby and took the elevator to the third floor—the top floor for the facility. This was where a series of offices and work spaces had been set up, and it was where she would be expected to go, if she really were a consultant or contractor. But for her purposes, it was a good access point for her target.
The Curie Motors facilities was massive—more than a mile long, with vast spaces dedicated to assembly line work. The office level stretched the entire length of the building, along the second and third floors, and was the easiest way for Kayne to get from one end of the facility to the other. She had a 3D rendering of the entire building on her phone, stitched together from a combination of public blueprints, city planning documents, and the building’s own internal cameras and sensors. With this, QuIEK was guiding her through the maze of corridors and cubicles, to a stairwell that would get her close to the vault she was trying to access.
The air-gapped network was inside that vault—really a set of nested labs and dedicated office spaces on the first floor, set aside from the assembly line and segregated from the rest of the facility. To even have a shot at accessing it, she would need to get down to the first floor via a stairwell on the East end of the building. That particular stairwell was locked off from casual access—it required a special key card, along with biometric screening. Very secure.
Easy.
And there was a bonus.
The likelihood of encountering anyone in that stairwell would be slim. Only authorized personnel could even get in there, and most people in the building—even including security personnel—had no need. According to her surveillance, the people working in the air-gapped lab all came in through a dedicated entrance on the ground floor, and rarely required access to the levels above. The lab was its own space, its own ecosystem within the Curie Motors facility, and anyone coming and going was already scrutinized, vetted, and verified. So if you were there, the assumption was you belonged there.
QuIEK would make it so that Kayne belonged there. Or at least would appear to. Again, easy.
Still, it always paid to be extra paranoid, especially in confined spaces. She had QuIEK run through worst-case scenarios, finding her as many ways out of there as possible. Meanwhile, she concentrated on continuing through the gamut of office spaces on the third floor.
It took a very long time to get to the stairwell. Covering a mile through cubicles and corridors, dodging anyone who might look too closely and ask too many questions, meant it was slow going, end to end. At one point she stopped at a break room for a cup of coffee—which turned out to not be so bad. Curie Motors had a very hip atmosphere, for a corporate office space, and the “break room” was actually a faux coffee shop and café setting, with a fully functional espresso machine and even a selection of healthy meals, available for free to employees and visitors alike.
Kayne always avoided eating and drinking when she was on a job. It wasn’t like she’d get a chance to stop and use the restroom if someone started chasing her. But she justified stopping and sipping a latte and nibbling on some fruit, in the name of stealth and camouflage. To anyone watching, she was just another consultant enjoying some surprisingly good coffee and a healthy nosh.
Noshing complete, however, it was time to get back to work.
She took the coffee with her.
The closer she got to the secure stairwell, the more the office crowd thinned out. The people she encountered now were typically working at the Director level—a notch above management, a notch below the executives. She was more cautious here, and began disguising her movements by snagging file folders and papers, studying them as she walked, nodding perfunctorily as she passed anyone who might notice her.
File folders were the clipboards of corporate life—carrying one was essentially a deer-tail signal to everyone who looked your way, flagging you as “someone who is supposed to be here and is also busy, and so should not be bothered.” It didn’t always work, but it helped her move without garnering all that much suspicion.
It went like this for more than an hour—much longer than she had hoped, but less time than she had feared. As she picked her way through the space, several times she had to sidetrack, or divert around people or obstacles in her way. The pace was slow, but she had time. It was better to creep along than to gain attention by appearing to be in a hurry, especially in a place where she wasn’t a familiar face.
Finally, the door for the secured stairwell loomed ahead of her. She had the file folder and papers closed against her side, and her coffee cup in hand. She put the cup on the edge of an empty desk, then angled toward the door.
“Miss?” a woman’s voice came from behind her.
Kayne felt her heart thump. She was so close! But she couldn’t exactly make a break for it. Everyone in this end of the offices would know that the stairwell was secure access, and that not just anyone could go there. If she tried to ignore whoever this was and bee-line to the door, she’d inevitably alert security that something was up. She’d have to deal with this with tact.
She turned to see a middle-aged woman, well-dressed, holding the cup of coffee that Kayne had just set down. “You forgot your coffee.”
Kayne smiled and shook her head. “I’m sorry, thank you! I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” she held up the file folder, as if its contents were the source of all worry and concern.
The woman smiled and held up some file folders of her own. “Don’t we all?”
Kayne laughed lightly and took the cup from her, then turned and moved toward the door. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she just went to it and used her bogus keycard to get in. But… well… why not?
Without looking back, but knowing the woman was watching her the whole way, Kayne stepped up to the door and waved her keycard over the sensor. Then she placed her hand on the biometric sensor plate as she leaned forward and looked into the unblinking eye of a retinal scanner.
The moment of truth.
A blue light blinked brighter, along with a charming little sound, like tiny harp strings. The all-go signs that access was granted.
Kayne opened the door and stepped through, glancing back to see that the woman had, in fact, been watching her every move, likely waiting to see if she actually did have access to this, the most sacred and secure of doors.
Kayne waved with her coffee cup, smiling, and the woman smiled and waved back, before turning to walk away. Apparently she was appeased by the fact that no alarms or sirens went off, and that Kayne had actually been able to enter the forbidden zone. Trust in the system was complete.
As the stairwell door closed, Kayne leaned against it briefly, and let out a breath. Then, file folder and lucky coffee cup still in hand, she made her way down the three flights of steps that would deposit her near the air-gapped lab.
So far, so good.
Though, somehow, she hardly thought this had been the toughest part.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ross Eckhart Private Office | Curie Motors Facility
“Sir,” one of the security detail said. “There’s something you should see.”
Ross Eckhart still didn’t like being called “sir.” It had felt weird to him for nearly all of his adult life. No matter how much money he made, no matter how many businesses he built, no matter how many times his face appeared on the news or his voice echoed back to him from an interview, Eckhart always felt like people who called him sir were either addressing someone else or being contemptuous.
Sometimes the latter was true.
It had been about an hour since he’d managed to escape the press and the public, and to duck into his private office in the Curie Motors facility. And this really was his private office—not the Executive Suite he used when he was entertaining investors or other CEOs or even just the media. This little space, tucked into a corner of the ground floor of the Curie Motors building, was a replica of others he had scattered among all of his various businesses. It was a largely utilitarian space, with a drafting table and a workbench dominating one whole wall, and research materials adorning all the others. If anything, this looked more like the space he’d started in—a tiny garage apartment in San Francisco, where his landlord had forever been threatening to kick him out for being late with rent or, sometimes, for setting the place on fire.
These little offices were replicas of the very space where all of this had started for Eckhart. A humble space, too small for much more than him and his obsessions. It was comforting to be in such a humble setting. It was a reminder that billions of dollars shouldn’t change who he was at the core, if he was determined enough to keep his values in check.
It was kind of an indulgence, otherwise. And a private haven to retreat to, when he’d extroverted enough for one day.
Usually, no one bothered him when he was in here. And he would have preferred to have a couple of hours alone, to come down after the press conference. But security always had a pass on interruptions. Eckhart had learned years ago that in this business, in any tech industry business, the key to keeping things from going sideways too fast to handle was to let security types have their say and their way. Paranoia could be very useful.
He waved for the man enter and took the digital tablet when it was handed to him. He watched the footage, then looked up in surprise. “Who is she?”
The man shook his head. “We’re not sure yet. We’re trying to run facials, but it’s like there’s a glitch. She looked dead into the retinal scanner, but we show no record of it. Every interaction with those scanners is usually recorded, but there’s nothing.”
“Which camera is this?” Eckhart asked, pointing to the tablet. The footage was weird—like a recording of a security monitor, taken from a handheld camera.
“The stairwells have three sets of cameras at each landing. One is networked, connecting to the general system. The other is infrared, also networked. The third is direct, connected to a DVR and monitors from inside the air-gapped lab. No network. Your rules.”
Eckhart nodded. “I see. And let me guess… the networked camera and the infrared camera aren’t seeing anything?”
The guard nodded. “It’s like she’s invisible. To the networked cameras, at least.”
“She’s using some kind of live masking,” Eckhart said, awed. He studied the woman on the screen. She looked familiar, but he hadn’t quite clicked to who she was yet. The footage hadn’t given him a clear image of her face, just quick profiles as she moved past. “This is the second floor. Did she come down from the third?”
“Yes sir,” the man replied, nodding.
“And she had a badge?”
“Yes sir, and she passed the biometric scans.”
“The stairwell camera on the third floor is hard wired, isn’t it? Direct line to the DVR?”
The security agent thought for a moment, “Yes sir, I believe that’s correct.” He immediately took out his phone and made a call. After a few short moments there was another knock on the door, and the agent answered, taking a tablet from the guard outside.
He handed it to Eckhart. “Every time they try to send any video of her over the network, it vanishes.”
Eckhart nodded. “I don’t know how she’s doing it, but it’s impressive. She’s live-masking herself out of any footage, and whatever she’s using is doing it in real time, across the network. We’re never going to see her that way.”
