“Other than being a major component in a computer, I haven’t the foggiest.”
Once he’d finished connecting the hard drive and had booted up the computer, Sanderson stood and returned to the kettle that by this time was whistling like an old steam locomotive pulling out of the station. “Milk? Sugar?”
“A touch, if you please, and no, thank you sir.”
Having finished his chores as a host by handing Andy his mug, Sanderson returned to where the computer he’d been fiddling with was now up and running. “While the logic board, better known as the motherboard, can be considered the heart of the system, the hard drive is the brain where data is stored, sorted, and retrieved from.”
Unable to resist, Andy rose from his chair, stepped around behind the major’s desk, and came up behind the man to watch what he was doing. “How does it work?” Andy asked quietly.
Pausing, Sanderson glanced over his shoulder. “Are you aware they call me the Sandman?” he asked with something of a grin on his face.
“The corporal I asked directions from did mention it,” Andy admitted sheepishly.
Sanderson returned to studying the small monitor where a directory of the hard drive’s content was now displayed. “I’m called the Sandman because I have a knack for putting very senior officers to sleep whenever I’m called on to brief them on computer security, which isn’t done near enough, I’m sorry to say.”
“I’ve often been accused of the same thing, though I expect the reasons are a tad different,” Andy admitted. “I’ve been told my voice takes on something of a monotone quality when I am presenting.”
“Hmm, it seems it’s a curse I share with you that only serves to compound a near utter lack of interest whenever I try to impress upon our betters they need to pay more attention to computer security.” Sanderson sighed. “Well, be that as it may,” he continued in a more upbeat tone after a brief pause. “If you were to fieldstrip a hard drive, you’d find it bears an uncanny resemblance to an old gramophone. Inside the metal casing of the modern hard drives manufactured these days you’d find one or more small platters made out of an aluminum alloy, glass, or a ceramic material, which are covered with a magnetic material. Information input into the computer is recorded on each platter and then read by magnetic heads mounted on the end of a moving actuator arm. The big difference between the actuator arm on a hard drive and a gramophone is the hard drive’s can wander across the surface of the platter and retrieve information in any block, or track if you like, that is on the platter.”
Pausing, Sanderson peeked over his shoulder again and cocked his brow. “Still awake?”
Unable to help himself, Andy chuckled. “Yes, very.”
“Hmm, I must be losing my touch,” Sanderson muttered as he turned his attention back to the screen. “In this case I just ordered the hard drive to fetch a file entitled liaison officers, the name the officer who used this particular hard drive attributed to a list of serving officers who dealt directly with the sources we rely on to keep us abreast of what PIRA and all their little friends are up to.”
In an instant the levity that had been creeping into their conversation evaporated as Andy recognized a number of names on the list the major was slowly scrolling down, names that included his own.
“As you can see, the seemingly innocuous electronic component you brought me could, in the hands of the wrong people, not only undo years of effort to infiltrate the RA, but could very well result in the wholesale slaughter of some of our best and brightest young officers.”
Suspecting he’d made his point, Sanderson spun about in his seat, came to his feet, and stared into Andy’s eyes. “I’m always on the hunt for talent, officers who know what they’re about and have a quick mind. After you brought this in I had a chat with your colonel. He’s rather fond of you.”
This caused Andy to blink as his mind raced to catch up to where the major was now taking their exchange. “I must say, that’s the first time I ever heard someone attribute Colonel Lockhart with being fond of anyone, save that pair of hounds of his,” he replied in a feeble attempt to regain his footing by injecting a spot of humor into a conversation that had taken an unexpected and very grim turn.
“He told me you not only know how to keep your wits about you, but that you’re the kind of officer who never misses a chance to take advantage of an opportunity in the field when it comes your way, no matter how seemingly dodgy it at first appears.”
To this, Andy, a man who his friends considered far too modest to be an infantry officer, had no answer.
Pleased by his silence, Sanderson resumed his seat and wheeled it away from the side table and back to his desk, indicating Andy was to take his seat as well. When they were both settled, Sanderson immediately cut to the chase. “I need someone like you to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time and, thanks to that hard drive you brought me, I can finally attempt.”
Now on his guard, Andy sat up, cocking his head to one side as he took to warily regarding the Royal Signals officer.
“I’m told you’ve managed to become something of a known quantity to some of our sources in PIRA,” Sanderson stated in a manner that alerted Andy that the major knew far more about him than he had originally thought. “It seems they even trust you enough to run errands for them from time to time, much to the vexation of your colonel.”
Unable to help himself, Andy nodded. “Well, as you yourself said, if the opportunity to learn more about the RA comes my way, I’d be a fool not to take advantage of it.”
“Hmm, yes. Be that as it may, what I have in mind is something a bit more involved than simply running an errand.”
Like any good Rifleman, Andy realized he was being led into an ambush. Still, the lure of learning more about the Sandman’s strange world, one that impressed Andy as being something well worth looking into, was simply too much to resist. “I’m listening.”
The idea of spending even more time north of the River Tyne was one Tommy did not relish, for he considered the Geordies and their fellow North Countrymen to be little better than Scots. His attitude went through something of a transformation not long after arriving in Morpeth when he came to discover the shipment of laptop computers he’d been sent to check on had been ordered and picked up by a company that didn’t exist. “The address the cheeky bastards listed on all the shipping documents that Northumberland Haulage had on file belongs to the rectory of the Roman Catholic Church here in town,” Tommy informed Andy over the phone.
While he could easily dismiss the notion there wasn’t any possible link between his own religion and the choice of addresses the people associated with the fictitious company had chosen, Andy could not escape the very real possibility the reason behind the subterfuge was more than a simple case of smuggling. “Once you’ve acquired copies of everything you can from Charlie Mills concerning that particular order, and the people who picked it up from him, you’re to head straight for the local police,” Andy ordered. “Inform them if they’ve not yet heard from someone belonging to the Security Service concerning this matter before you arrived, they will be shortly.”
“What do I tell them is so bloody important about the computers we’re interested in?”
“To start with, tell them they’re not to think of them as computers.”
Tommy, who’d dealt with every sort of miscreant who used computers and the Web for every imaginable crime, didn’t need to ask Andy to explain any further. He knew better than most that a single laptop of the type that had been in the missing shipment could contain all the instructions needed to construct a dirty bomb using material obtained within the territorial boundaries of the United Kingdom, formulas that would allow a first-year university student to mix up a drum of sarin and easy-to-follow instructions on how to weaponize anthrax using the facilities and material found at any number of universities engaged in agricultural research. “I’ll get right on it.”