Kalata’s voice carried from the phone, “Ever seen him before?”
She put the handset back to her ear. “Never. You?”
“Not in my life.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “Look, Shannon, you’re right — this might be nothing. But I knew it was important to you, so I tried.”
“Thanks, Jim. You did good. If anything else comes up please give me a call.”
“How’s your dad?”
The question caught Lund off guard. “Oh … he’s—”
She was cut off by his chuckle. “Good luck, Shannon.”
The call ended.
Standing in the hotel lobby, Lund whispered the name to herself. “Douglas Wilson.” Hearing it aloud was no help. It meant nothing to her.
It was well after midnight in Vienna, and Patel had been on the phone with the technician in D.C. for nearly an hour. His name was Nelson Chadli, and he was the man Patel had chosen specifically to manage META on the server end. He and Chadli had studied together at Caltech, so Patel knew he was smart. He also knew he was timid by nature and prone to indecisiveness. On the scale of malleability, Chadli was a rock-solid nine.
“You’ve finished the sequence?” Patel asked.
There was a slight delay as the call ran across the ocean. “Yes, it is done now. I’m getting a response. There we are … the command algorithm is running.”
“How long will the sweep take to confirm?” Patel asked.
“Well, things have been busy. Our real-time restricted databases, the ones with tailored access operations — they don’t often get modified using an alpha-priority clearance.”
Patel was happy the phone connection could not convey his grin. So lost in a technical haze was Chadli, he had no idea what was about to happen. The changes he was making would on appearances erase META from the primary server. They would in fact do quite the opposite. Once finished, Patel’s software would be fully embedded, his Trojan horse complete. Although it wasn’t a classic Trojan horse play. He intended no damage to the government’s host system, nor was it meant to attack other databases. It would simply exist, working in the background, feeding and extracting like the parasite it was from the most labyrinthine network on earth. Aside from Patel, no one knew of its existence, not even Chadli, who at that moment was making META’s intrusion permanent. The software was now operationally proven. In five years or ten, it might be discovered — if the overseeing agency restructured its servers to an entirely new architecture, or if a very, very clever auditor stumbled upon it. But Patel doubted any of that would happen. For the foreseeable future, he had private access to the most powerful information gathering network on earth. Then Patel amended this thought. In truth, he wasn’t the end user — Delta was.
But Delta was his.
He said, “Yes, I’ve discussed this at length with the supervisory team. The alpha-priority clearance was authorized far above our level — that’s the point of the entire exercise, but I can’t divulge details, and certainly not on an open line.”
Chadli said, “I understand. While we’re waiting for confirmation I’ll run a usage scan.”
“No!” said Patel quickly. “That’s not nec—”
“Oh, it’s not a problem. It only takes a few seconds.” A pause, then, “I see there has been some use.”
“Yes, those are authorized test inputs,” Patel said quickly, which was true in the strictest sense. “Most were from here, in Vienna, followed by a few in Alaska. We were assessing geographic coverage and measuring response intervals.” Then he added, “You may also see activity in New York City.”
“Ah,” said Chadli, “here we are. Yes, Vienna for the past month, and Alaska. New York today. Also up in New England for the last few days.”
On hearing this Patel went rigid. The last few days? He sat upright behind the desk in his hotel room, and tried to keep a level tone. “Where in New England?”
“All across Maine, from top to bottom. Then New Hampshire briefly and Boston.”
For the second time in twenty-four hours Patel was stunned. He knew Delta’s schedule precisely — he had been nowhere near New England until a few hours ago. Then he was struck by an outrageous possibility.
Bravo?
He knew DeBolt had survived the surgery — that was a surprise to everyone — but could he possibly have gone active?
Patel tried to think clearly. He had specifically enabled Delta months ago, the final links made. Yet those instructions had pertained specifically to him. How could Bravo possibly be using them? Was there a weakness in the code he’d written, a back door that had somehow allowed access? Then a greater worry flooded into his head — the man had so far escaped Benefield’s vaunted team of killers. Had Bravo gained an advantage over them by leveraging META?
“Dr. Patel? Are you still there?” came the reedy voice from across the ocean.
Patel reacquired his focus. “Yes, of course. My connection is a bit dodgy. Tell me one thing … where is the most recent activity?”
“I show usage in Boston right now … actually hits on two nodes. They’re separated by about a mile. How could that—”
“No, that’s fine,” said Patel in a rush, “exactly as it should be. I have another call I must take. Let me know when the uninstall sequence has finalized.”
“Yes, I’ll—”
Patel cut the man off. Dozens of worries rushed into his mind, any of which might threaten his control of the situation. But if it’s true …
He quickly went to his texting app, selected the contact he wanted, and typed a frantic message.
USE EXTREME CAUTION: BRAVO MAY ALSO BE ACTIVE.
39
Baumann and Stevens pulled into the unlit driveway at 3443 Saddle Lane, splashing into a days-old puddle. The two Navy SEALs had buddied up, as they usually did, to deliver the Coast Guard investigator back to where they’d found her. Things had gone smoothly, largely because she’d cooperated.
As Baumann parked and killed the engine on the SUV — a Homeland Security — supplied Ford Explorer — Stevens paused in the backseat with his hand on the door, and said, “What do you think about this guy, DeBolt? Is it possible? You really think he’s like … connected somehow?”
“Has to be. You heard all that stuff he told the colonel.”
Stevens whistled. “You know what you and I could do with something like that? What it would do for our unit effectiveness? It would be, like, exponential … or whatever the word is.”
“No doubt about it,” said Baumann, pocketing the keys. “I was thinking what you could do with it on the outside too.”
“But you’d have to have all that stuff put in your head. Circuits or antennae, whatever the hell — a lot could go wrong there.”
“True. But the things you could find out about people. Imagine it. I mean, any girl — you could get her address and phone number, find out if she has a boyfriend.”
Stevens laughed. “Listen to you. Give you the keys to an information kingdom, and all you’d use it for is to get laid.”
“What would you do? Rob a bank or something?”
“Maybe so.”
Stevens was still laughing at his partner when they stepped out of the vehicle. It was in those next seconds, distracted as they were, that the two SEALs made the slightest of tactical mistakes. Baumann had been driving, and Stevens was in the backseat, the way they’d been situated to shepherd their prisoner on the outbound ride. Now back at the safe house, in the suburbs and feeling confident, they made an almost imperceptible error. Both got out of the same side of the truck.