Coding Isis (28 page)

Chris dropped his cell phone and car keys in the open drawer and swiped his card again.

Red light. Buzzer.

‘Anything else?’ said Maynard.

Chris made a pretense of patting his pockets but he knew damned well what had triggered the buzzer. He put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out the key logger.

‘Extension cable,’ said Chris.

‘We’ll provide everything you need. If you want something special and you can’t find it, just ask. We like to look after our staff.’

‘Just so long as I can rest my keyboard on my knees, I’ll be happy.’

He dropped the cable in the drawer and swiped his card again. The drawer snapped shut and a green light appeared on the card reader.
Shit
, thought Chris,
so much for this being a piece of cake
.

The doorway opened into another lobby area. There was no reception desk here, but on the wall facing him was a large bank of phones.

‘When you get in, grab a phone from the rack,’ said Maynard. Place your swipe card on it and it will become your phone. All calls made to your number will automatically be routed to that phone. You can call out on it if you wish. We maintain the phones and keep them fully charged and sterilized. Don’t try taking it home though, you won’t get out of the building if you’re carrying it. Similar to how we don’t let you bring anything in.’

‘You’re very security conscious,’ said Chris.

Maynard simply smiled and nodded. He held out his arm to the left. ‘Our office is this way,’ he said. ‘I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team later on.’

Chris followed Maynard through to a room that was light and airy, which was surprising since there were no windows. There were no windows in the entire building as far as he could tell. There were two desks, each with an identical setup. Three large monitors, a computer keyboard and mouse. The keyboard and mouse were wireless.

‘Where’s the PC?’ asked Chris.

‘We don’t use desktop computers here. Too much maintenance. Instead we have a Bluetooth setup in each office that relays your keyboard strokes and mouse movements through to a central server. A video signal is transmitted back to your desk. It’s pretty cool. It’s just like having your own computer with none of that nasty fan-noise coming from under the desk.’

Maynard pointed to a little square pad in front of the monitors. ‘Drop your swipe card here to login.’

Chris dropped his card down on the pad. Nothing happened. ‘You’ll need to face the monitors too’, said Maynard. ‘We use a combination of biometric profiling and the keycard.’

Chris sat down and the three computer monitors lit up. ‘You’ll need to take your keycard with you if you want to sign in on another workstation. The biometric recognition means we don’t have to worry about our cards being stolen or copied. There was a camera in the doorway that let you in. You probably didn’t see it. It works the same way so when you swiped your card, it checked you were who you were supposed to be. If you walk away from your workstation the computer system is locked. If you can see the screens, the computer can see you and everything is unlocked again. Is it all making sense?’

Chris was stunned. This place was locked down tighter than Fort Knox. He was screwed. What did he think he was going to do? Hack in to the NSA’s computer system and take them down?

‘I would show you how to use the computers but, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,’ said Maynard. ‘However, I think you’re going to need some help with the coffee machine. It’s through here.’

Maynard led Chris back out of the office and through into a communal area. There were sofas and a large TV. Despite his reservations, Chris was starting to like this place.

Agent Salter watched Ben closely, trying to gauge a reaction to his question about terrorists. He was fishing, but he didn’t get a bite. Maybe Ben was gifted at hiding his feelings, he was a detective with many years of experience. Maybe he genuinely knew nothing or it was simply past three in the morning and he was tired. Salter figured that, more likely than not, Ben hadn’t a clue what was going on.

‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain what you mean by the question,’ said Ben. ‘I know plenty about terrorists, but what I don’t know is why you felt the need to bring me here at this ungodly hour.’

Agent Salter relaxed some. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I guess I have some explaining to do. Would you like a cup of coffee first?’

‘Hell yes.’

Salter appeared to be in his late forties but looked fit. He wore a dark gray pin-striped suit. His top button was still fastened and his tie knot perfectly in place against a stiff white collar. Ben had no idea how long this guy had been at work, but he was sure there was no way in hell he’d look so good if
he
were working through the night. He wondered whether they had a night shift at the FBI.

Agent Salter finished pouring the coffee and passed a mug over to Ben. ‘At around six yesterday, you sent a series of case files through to Special Agent Ridley at the D.C. field office. A series of homicides that you were investigating, am I right?’

‘Sort of,’ said Ben. ‘The case I was investigating was the murder of Jasmine Allan, a research assistant who was shot whilst running in Rock Creek Park. I must admit, the case has me stumped. Then, by chance, I got an idea to look for cases with a similar MO in other states after watching an unsolved crimes show on TV. You have to love the irony, don’t you think?’

‘Yes. Kind of funny.’

‘Anyway, three other cases showed up. Remarkably similar in many respects, but again each one was a dead end. The victims were all loners and no suspects were found amongst the few friends and acquaintances they had. There was no physical evidence other than the single bullet of a most unusual nature.’

Agent Salter walked around to his desk and sat down. He opened a manila folder and leafed through a couple of pages. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.’ He leafed through a few more pages and then looked up at Ben, removing his reading glasses.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have anything to help you with the case of the young girl, but the other three names raised red flags when we put them through the system. All three names are on our terrorist watch list, but not because they had the wrong skin color or faith. These people all had known links to confirmed terrorist recruiters and couriers. They have been watched closely for some time by agents in field offices throughout the States. No one had connected their deaths. Until now that is.’

Ben drank his coffee. It was good coffee.

‘And what about Jasmine?’ Ben asked.

‘She’s the anomaly. Could she have been mistaken for someone else? It’s possible she was involved with terrorists, but we hadn’t picked her up yet.’ Salter seemed to be considering a problem, ‘What do you make of the ballistics?’ he asked.

Ben said, ‘.50 caliber steel slug. From my understanding, these are used by the military in long range sniper rifles. Steel bullets are not on sale to members of the public.’

‘Exactly. We’ve been tossing some ideas around and we think we may have a vigilante on our hands. Someone with military training, more importantly an expert marksman or a trained sniper. Someone with access to classified signals intelligence, either with contacts in the military or law enforcement.’

Ben thought about Chris Sanders. A computer expert with a background in signals intelligence gathering. Ex-military, an expert marksman. But it couldn’t be. Not after everything he’d been through on this case. Chris was clean he was sure of it.

Michelle arrived back at the house after visiting her dad at a little after ten and there was no sign of Wyn. She figured he was still asleep so she put some music on, not too loud, but loud enough to wake him. Then she set to and tidied the kitchen, making sure to bang the occasional pan when putting it away. Chris seemed happy to be starting at the new place but there was something different about him in the last few days. It could be nerves about starting work in a new place, or maybe something to do with Wyn arriving. She’d give him a couple of days for things to settle down and then ask him if everything was OK.

She heard sounds coming from upstairs, Wyn was awake and seemed to have found the shower. She wondered what she was going to do with him today. Chris had said to show him the sights of D.C., but that wasn’t really her strength. She walked through to the lounge and scanned the book shelf. She remembered that when she and Chris had moved here from London, Chris had bought a Lonely Planet city guide to D.C., that would certainly help her now. She moved countless computer-related books to the side and finally found the little book wedged between a collection of papers from the National Institute of Standards and Technology and a book on case-based reasoning.
How on earth does Chris understand this stuff?
She considered she was fairly good with computers, but when Chris got carried away, she really found it hard to understand what he was talking about. But that was the world they lived in, technology had taken over and things had changed such a lot, even since she was a girl. People used forums and Facebook for advice where they would have once asked their family or friends. Wikipedia had become the place to look-up things she didn’t understand. Printed encyclopedias could not keep pace with the rate of change in the world today. It wasn’t just information that had been freed in the modern world, music, and other media had changed. Even the humble book was being replaced by a binary substitute. Sometimes she wondered whether this was really progress. She knew there were kids growing up today that had never bought a musical recording, in fact the concept of paying for music seemed alien to them. Letters had been all but replaced by emails, how long would it be before books were something you went to see in a museum? Or maybe people wouldn’t even go to the museum.

Michelle knew that Chris was a part of this juggernaut. His work was in bringing the cyber and real worlds together, to create an augmented reality; one where the computers genuinely helped people to be better people. It made her proud to think of Chris doing such good for the world, and possibly becoming famous for his pioneering work.

She flicked through the Lonely Planet guide until she found the section on sight-seeing. She had no idea how long Wyn was going to be around, but she decided the two day itinerary was about as much as she was prepared to do. The guide recommended to start the express tour with breakfast at Jimmy T’s on Capitol Hill, then wander down to the Mall.

Wyn came in looking just as crumpled as he had the night before. ‘Good morning, Michelle, so what have you got in store for me today?’

‘How do you fancy breakfast?’ she said.

They took the Metro to Eastern Market and Wyn was impressed by the cleanliness of the station and the trains.

‘Wow, this certainly beats the tube,’ he said.

Michelle agreed. She remembered the first time she’d gotten the London Underground from Covent Garden to Piccadilly and was shocked at how crowded and dirty it was, not just the stations but the trains too. The Metro here was well-lit and well run. She definitely preferred being here, but she knew that Chris sometimes missed the life back home.

‘Does Chris ever talk about wanting to go back to London?’ she asked.

‘Nah,’ said Wyn. ‘To be honest with you, I don’t understand most of what Chris talks about.’

They laughed. ‘I thought you worked together? Don’t you do that computer stuff?’

‘Chris and I worked together in a team where we had people with different skills. Some were good with command, some with signals, like Chris, and some were trained medics, or trained with explosives.’

‘And what were you good at?’

‘Whacking people.’

‘Is that it?’

‘I was pretty good at running too.’

They arrived at the station and Wyn stared back at the red-brick building as they left.

‘It looks like a cross between a Georgian mansion and an electricity sub-station,’ he said.

Michelle simply smiled. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ she said. ‘It just looks like part of the landscape to me. You go past a place every day and you don’t see it anymore.’

They headed west down Capitol Street SE and turned right on Sixth.

‘It’s not far,’ Michelle said. ‘Just another couple of blocks.’

‘Do you and Chris get out in D.C. much now?’ asked Wyn.

‘Not really. We did quite a bit of this when we first arrived. Chris really wanted to look around, and it was fun. But now he mainly works. He spends a lot of time working.’