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Jeremy chuckled. “Sneaky,” he said.

“Pest control people are just like the leaf-blower man; they’re sacred. No one ever questions them. Ever,” she smiled. “We all hate bugs more than we fear anything else.”

“I’ll do that,” Mason said, after a little hesitation.

Alex stood and stretched a little, relieving some of the tension she’d been accumulating in her muscles. She didn’t have much to go on for now; she had to get near the team that used the van. One of the members of that team was the leak, regardless how he managed to copy the file. She felt a wave of anxiety mixed with excitement, the type of excitement one feels before running a race. She needed to catch this mole fast; there was a lot at stake, and she was running against the clock. She might already be too late.

“Jeremy,” she said, “I’m turning this over to you. Let’s talk people. What, or who do we have?”

“We have a few things,” Jeremy said. “Before we proceed, let me clarify something. Team One, let’s call it that, the team of six who used the van in the morning, you’re saying they should be off the hook, ’cause they didn’t have access to the documents?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Mason replied.

“Every one of these eleven people are under round-the-clock surveillance. I feel inclined to play it safe and keep these six people under surveillance for a little while longer. Just to be thorough. I can think of a few scenarios in which one of them could be involved even without having direct access to the document. Any objections?”

“None,” Mason said.

“But you’re saying you want to infiltrate Team Two first?” Jeremy turned toward Alex.

“Yes, can’t do both at the same time and I want to start with the most likely ones.”

“Makes sense,” Jeremy confirmed. He took some of the folders stacked in front of him and pushed them aside, then focused on the remaining five folders. “These are our guys — well, four guys and one gal.”

Alex pulled her tablet and got ready to take notes.

“I’ve run full background on all of them. Financials, credit cards, and phone records will take a little longer ’cause we need to wait for the warrants to come in, and then execute them.”

“OK, shoot,” Alex said impatiently. Everything took forever with the government.

“All right, the first one is Robert McLeod, forty-two years old. He’s the team lead for this project. He’s Walcott’s technical director for Navy systems. Single. He’s an electrical engineering graduate from MIT, finished second in his class. He specializes in electronics, and…” Jeremy hesitated, flipping through the pages of his file, “yes, has been with Walcott for eight years. This is his picture,” he added, pushing the file toward Alex.

“I’ll need their pics sent to my phone,” she said.

“I’ll arrange that to be done,” Jeremy said.

“Ahh… don’t bother,” she replied, taking a quick picture of Bob McLeod’s personnel headshot with her phone.

“Or that can work too,” Jeremy said, almost laughing. “OK, what else do we know about him, Mason? What makes Bob McLeod tick?”

“It’s really hard to say, Agent Weber. As I was saying, we have thousands of employees; I don’t have this kind of information readily available for any of them. But I will talk to human resources, see what they have.”

“Please do. Move on, then?”

“Yes,” Alex replied.

“Quentin Hadden, forty-seven, weapons systems engineer. Masters of science in electrical engineering, cum laude. Nothing much else in here. Single. Been with the company for twelve years.

Alex snapped another picture, then gestured for Jeremy to move on to the next suspect.

“Sylvia Copperwaite, thirty-three. She’s the youngest of this elite crowd. She’s an electromechanical engineer and holds a PhD in computational modeling for mobile platform installations and use of remote-sensing technologies — wow, that was a mouthful. At that age, very impressive, I’d say. Single, attractive.”

Alex snapped another picture, then said, “It’s amazing how you didn’t mention the attractiveness factor about the two men.”

Sam chuckled.

“Touché,” Jeremy responded. “OK, next one is… Faisal Kundi.”

“Whoa…” Sam interjected. “They have a Middle Eastern on the team? Where from?”

“I can assure you all Walcott employees undergo thorough background checks in addition to the clearance investigation they have to pass,” Mason offered, sounding almost defensive.

“OK, so… Faisal Kundi, twenty-nine,” Jeremy continued, “he’s an embedded software engineer, whatever that means.”

“I can explain,” Alex offered.

“Umm… maybe later,” Jeremy replied. “Faisal is a Muslim. He was born in Pakistan, and emigrated at age three with his family. Married, two children. American citizen, of course, otherwise he wouldn’t have had any clearance.”

Jeremy stopped talking, waiting for any comments. No one said anything. Could it be that easy? Alex thought. It could, but that shouldn’t cloud their judgment. Shouldn’t cloud hers, anyway. She needed to remain cool-headed and not jump to any conclusions. She suddenly realized she felt sorry for how hard life must be for Faisal Kundi, if people instantly suspected him of treason by just hearing his name.

She snapped her picture, then said, “Next!”

“The last one is Vernon Blackburn, forty-four. Married, no children. He’s a… here comes another mouthful, a laser electro-optics engineer, with a PhD in laser applications.”

Alex took her last picture, then asked, “Is this it? Is this all we have?”

“Afraid so,” Jeremy replied.

“Let me see what I can get from human resources,” Mason offered.

“What are you planning to do, kiddo?” Sam asked.

“Well, tomorrow I have the f—” she stopped abruptly, refraining from dropping an f-bomb in front of the composed and ultra-professional Mason Armstrong. “I have the polygraph test,” she continued, “without which I can’t enter the premises beyond this point, or board the vessels, right?”

“That is correct,” Mason confirmed.

“Any exceptions we could pull off?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Mason replied.

“OK, just thought I’d ask. We’ll work on my cover story and run that by you, Mason. Then, assuming everything goes well and I pass, Friday I can deploy with this team.”

“Sounds good,” Sam said. “You’ll pass the test, don’t worry. We’ll work on that later today.”

Mason’s surprised gaze moved from Sam to Alex and back. Neither of them flinched.

“Until then, Jeremy, I’ll need as much background info as you can get me for all five suspects. I can’t go in like this, with nothing but their names, and expect to pull it off.”

“Understood. What will you do in the meantime?”

“Who, me? I need to prepare, to be able to sustain a conversation with these people. I guess I’ll have to learn a little about… what was it?” Alex consulted her notes briefly. “Yeah, electro-optics, laser technologies, embedded software, remote sensing, and all that kind of fun stuff. I have forty-eight hours. Wish me luck!”

…45

…Wednesday, May 18, 7:49PM EDT (UTC-4:00 hours)
…Sam Russell’s Residence
…Timberlake, Virginia

Alex lounged on Sam’s deck furniture, engulfed in how beautiful the rural Virginia landscape could be on a May evening. The sun was getting ready to set, a pleasant heat still lingered in the air, carrying the smells of spring blooms. Cottonwood, insects, and birds randomly passed through the sweet sunset light, occasionally disrupting the perfect stillness of sound and air. Sam’s deck and yard backed toward a farm’s countless acres, spread on mild sloping hills and green pastures. It was a peaceful, scented paradise.