Stafford relayed the question and listened. “Maybe not. Dave’s guys swapped out the computer. It had the USB cable plugged in, but the computer was closed. If they simply put the computer into the office safe, they may not know it’s a different computer.”
“Tell Dave we need Thornton’s computer delivered to Brett in B6 area 4 of the NSA building, and see if he and his unit can get the fractal antenna off the outside of Thornton’s building without raising suspicion. That needs to go to Brett, too.”
“What are you thinking?” Honi asked.
“Thornton didn’t have a special device or a phone connected to the fractal antenna, he had his computer connected to it. His computer has to have a special board installed so he can communicate over the fractal encrypted network. If we have the computer and the antenna, we can tap into the network. The computer should have the encryption built in.”
Honi continued her conversation with Brett. “Where are the transmitting antennas?” She covered her phone with her hand. “He’s checking. This could take a while.” She waited. “There’s how many?” She covered her phone again. “Brett says according to Echelon, there are over two hundred active antennas located all over the globe. Now what?”
“Relay stations,” Stafford said. “They receive a signal on one frequency and retransmit it on another. Or, in this case, they receive on one set of frequencies and retransmit on another set.”
“So how do we find the original transmitting antenna?” Honi asked.
“Simple. Repeaters have more than one antenna — the original should have only one.”
Honi uncovered her phone. “Brett, we need National Reconnaissance Office photos of every antenna in that system, ASAP.” She disconnected. “How long is it going to take for our surveillance satellites to cover all of the antenna locations?”
Stafford lowered his head in thought, and then he looked up. “It could take half a day to cover the entire planet. It’s orbital physics. It’s not like driving a car. When the orbit takes the satellite over the target, we get the photo, not before.”
“What if we focus on just South America?” Honi asked.
“We still have to wait for a satellite to be in position, by that time, it’ll be dark here. No sunlight, no photo.”
“That can still work,” Jake said.
A computer chirped. “First NRO satellite photo coming in now,” Stafford said.
They clustered around the display. “It has five antennas,” Ken said. “I thought we were looking for two?”
“No, no,” Stafford said. “Look at the arrangement. Four antennas, same size as on the buildings, but these are pointing north, south, east and west. Those are all transmitting antennas. But see this one?” Stafford pointed to the screen. “That one is receiving the signal. It’s bigger because it is operating at a lower frequency. That makes sense. Lower frequencies follow the curvature of the earth, higher frequencies don’t. So to cover great distances, you need a lower frequency.”
“And a bigger antenna,” Honi said.
“Exactly. The receiving antenna should point directly toward the antenna transmitting the original signal. If we can measure the true angle on the antenna, we can plot where the original source is located.”
Another chirp from the computer and the second NRO photo began arriving. “Now, all we have to do is triangulate the two antennas to find the source,” Stafford pulled up a picture of the world on another computer and placed the two antennas on the global map. He read the angles off the photos Brett was sending them, and created lines running in those directions. “And they cross…”
“In the Pacific Ocean,” Honi said flatly. She leaned in to see the screen more clearly. “There isn’t even an island there.”
“Could be a ship.”
“Okay. I’ll give you that.” She pulled her phone, called Brett and gave him the new coordinates, and disconnected. “We’ll know in a couple of hours.”
One by one the NRO photos arrived. Stafford faithfully plotted the direction for the receiving antenna and entered it on the globe on his computer screen.
Honi’s phone buzzed. She looked at it. “Here’s your ship.” She handed her phone to him. He looked at the screen, expanded the image, and then expanded it again. He handed it back without saying a word.
“So what was on the image?” Jake asked.
“Water.”
“No ship?”
“Not even a raft. Obviously, the antennas were pointing at different transmitters. We’re going to need all of them, not just the ones in South America.”
Four hours later, Stafford called them over to see the new photo.
“This one’s different. Look, four large antennas and one small one.”
“Is that the same size as the building antennas?” Jake asked.
“No. It’s smaller.”
“So higher frequency?”
“Yep,” Stafford said. “With this frequency range, you’re looking at line of sight. The transmitter has to be on top of a mountain, or at least a high plateau.”
“But where?”
“We’ll know when we get more photos,” Stafford replied.
Jake turned and walked away. He stopped and turned around, returning to Stafford.
“Those repeater antennas. Are they near cities or towns?”
“No. Why?”
“Don’t they need electricity?”
“Of course. For an antenna in this range, you’d need a lot of electricity.”
“So where is the electricity coming from?” Jake asked.
Stafford enlarged one of the photos. “Each one of the antenna towers has a small concrete building at the base of it. There has to be a generator inside the building.”
“And who refills the fuel tank?”
Stafford expanded the photo again. “This one’s on a peak of some kind. It’s not buried in snow, so I’m guessing it isn’t that high an elevation.”
“Shouldn’t there be a road or at least tracks where a truck delivered fuel to the generator?” Jake asked.
Stafford expanded the photo more. “I don’t see any tracks, or a road.”
“So how does the generator run without fuel?”
“It can’t, can it? We need to get into one of these buildings.”
“Uh huh,” Jake said. “Let me know when you find one close to us.”
The photos continued to arrive on the computer throughout the night. The locations were on the other side of the world. The satellite needed to be above daylight on the surface. Infrared could be used at night, but it was difficult to get an idea of the antenna sizes from the images. With dawn of the last day of the deadline, more photos from South America began showing up on the computer screen.
Honi’s phone rang. It was Brett. She listened and then said, “I’ll have to get back to you.”
“Brett’s been working on Thornton’s computer, but it requires an encryption key. It has a three-try lockout security feature, so we’re going to have to have the right encryption key to get into his computer.”
“I’ve got a repeater close to us,” Stafford announced.
“Where?” Jake asked.
“Paraguay. Six hundred and twenty-eight miles north.”
“So how do we get there fast?”
“Private jet and helicopter,” Agent-In-Charge Clayton answered. He picked up the phone and made the arrangements. “Your FBI credentials and American Passports aren’t going to get you through customs in South America. I have some Brazilian Passports we can use, but you’ll need to look like very prosperous business people. Wealthy people get preferential treatment in this part of the world. There is an upscale clothing store on the way to the airport. We can stop there while my people are preparing your papers for customs.”
A twenty-minute shopping spree transformed Jake, Honi, Stafford and Ken into what looked like a business investment group for a Fortune 500 corporation. In fifteen minutes they were boarding a private Learjet 45 at the Aeroparque Jorge Newbery Airport in Buenos Aires. An hour and twenty-six minutes later, they landed at the Silvio Pettirossi International Airport in Luque, Paraguay.