"So, do you think my gut was right to make me drive all the way here?"
"Definitely. This is not a benign email message. This email demands action and is riddled with poisonous sarcasm, the type of sarcasm someone like that would reserve for those who have deeply disappointed him. This email is manipulative and punitive, and at the same time, demands immediate action."
"What should we expect?"
"I would expect a seriously negative media exposure incident. Whether a TV newscast, a press article, or who knows what other media vehicle they might choose, this exposure will probably take place within two days," Tom said, hitting the page with a finger. The noise made Little Tom open his eyes for a minute or so, while silence fell in the dark garden.
"What should I do?" Alex asked, in a whisper.
"I think the time has come to cut Dr. Barnaby's losses. We need to move in for the kill. We need to close this case in the next forty-eight hours." Tom's hand was stroking Little Tom's back, causing his legs to stretch with every motion. His purrs were louder than their voices.
"Are we ready? Do we have enough?"
"Well, get what more you can in the next couple of days, then that's it. Be more visible in your inquiries, start making some noise. Ask uncomfortable questions, scare them a bit."
"Won't that get me in trouble?" Alex asked.
"Not if you're careful. Plus, we'll have your back."
She looked in his eyes, with a flicker of doubt.
"This time I really mean it," Tom said. "You know, I'm also smart enough to be able to learn from my own mistakes." He smiled sadly. He had beaten himself up numerous times about the error in judgment that caused him to abandon Alex in jail. He was determined to never let it happen again. Not ever. Alex read that determination in his eyes, although he didn't speak a word.
"But what's the benefit of making noise and raising potential questions?" Alex asked. She was missing Tom's strategy, could not grasp his thinking.
"Well, for some of these executives, we have enough incriminating evidence to recommend termination of employment and maybe even involve the authorities. The final call belongs to the client, because such court cases can tarnish the company name and public image. That's an aspect we need to manage carefully. As we move on to address the ones we can, those who know they did something wrong will start fearing exposure and will disappear on their own. Or they will make an incredibly stupid mistake."
"We're betting on scaring them off?" Alex asked. "It doesn't seem like a foolproof method to pull all the bad ones out of this mix."
"You're thinking like an honest person again," Tom smiled. "What if you were one of these crooks? What if you saw all, or most of, your partners in crime eliminated from the company, and you'd never be able to hear from them again? Wouldn't that scare you just a little bit?"
"More than just a little bit, I get it. You're right, this might work out just fine," Alex said. "Then we should be done and wrapped up in two days. I'll need your help figuring out my exit strategy, so we don't raise suspicions and cause the client any issues. I only wish I could find out which one of these bastards set me up."
…72
Louie liked testing software — testing the limits of software, understanding how a particular piece of software can interact with other pieces of software — leading to new results for him to discover.
He had started playing with the self-guidance software a while ago, forgetting about time, dinner, and his favorite TV show. He had validated several modules of the software, exploring the configuration settings, and the simulated functioning. So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary. He took another sip of cold coffee from his giant travel mug, and then moved on to the next module — target acquisition.
Based on image recognition, target acquisition was a simple module. If the drone captured an image that matched a preexisting, preloaded image from its library of targets, the drone would acquire the target and ask ground control for permission to fire. Curious to see who had most recently made Homeland Security's shit list, he started browsing through the images. A number of well-known terrorist figures paraded in sequence, some he recognized, some he didn't, but they all looked equally dangerous.
As he was quickly browsing through a relatively vast collection of images, comprising residences, hiding places, vehicles, helicopters, and wives of wanted terrorists and enemy leaders, his eye caught an image of the front view of a Toyota 4Runner with California plates.
"What the fuck?" All his weariness disappeared in a second. He clicked the mouse again, and the next image displayed. It was a close-up head shot of Alex Hoffmann, his boss.
He froze for a minute, thinking. No other target images involved any targets on American soil. Foreign soil only, in countries unfriendly to the United States, faces of known terrorists. He paced the room for a few times, nervously examining options. Who would want Hoffmann killed?
He tried to access the image upload details. The images of Alex and her car had been uploaded on July 8, at 6:57AM, by Dustin Sheppard.
"Uh-oh… That's strange, he's never here that early," he muttered. "Well, maybe he would be, if he was planning to do this…"
He felt a chill down his spine. The self-guiding software's library of images and general settings were common to all drones in operation. He suddenly realized that this image was on every drone, distributed by the central system. He tried to remove Alex's image. The screen prompted him to enter a username and password. Hesitating a split second, as he knew he was about to leave a trail of his actions, he entered his credentials, but the system rejected them. Insufficient authority level. Authority level needed: L1.
He started thinking who could help with this. There were only a few L1s in the company. Only Barnaby was above them, as L0, but grapevine had it that Barnaby was semi-retired already, not caring about much of the business anymore. HR? Definitely not. Cops? He thought of what his top secret clearance level meant, and how unlikely would it be to find a cop with a high enough security clearance to be allowed to see the software and its imagery. The Feds? Too slow to get them to listen.
A split second of hesitation, then he cracked his fingers and started his attempt to break the security codes of the self-guidance system.
…73
Her throbbing headache wasn't going anywhere.
Alex had struggled with the insufferable pain almost all day long, despite the need to be extra alert and perceptive in her activities. She had one day left before closing this case, and she still had a lot more questions than answers. Wednesday had yielded little gain from that perspective, bringing zero new data. Maybe that had triggered her headache, the frustration of not being able to nail all the sons of bitches involved in this mess. But the thought of leaving this assignment with a half-done job caused her stomach to churn. Not acceptable, she thought.
She grabbed a jacket and her wallet and stormed through the front door. She needed a fistful of painkillers to do away with the obnoxious migraine and restore her critical judgment.
She opened the rear door of her car to throw the jacket on the back seat and saw the bomb-dismantling robot sitting there, forgotten on the rubber mat between the seats.