Headhunters (5 page)

“Good morning, Mr. Parks. Nice to have you here,” she said.
Her voice was somewhere between a greeting and a warning. Max seemed not to
notice.

“Simon will be joining us as a headhunter,” Max said.

“’Headhunter’,” Catherine scoffed. “No one calls us that
anymore, Max.”

“Maybe they ought to,” I said.

Christine’s eyes locked on mine and I didn’t blink. Max
didn’t seem to notice and led us away.

“Nice to meet you both,” I said over my shoulder.

“You too!” Tom said, leaning out of his door. Christine said
nothing, just watching as we walked away. When we were a fair distance from
them, Max leaned closer to me.

“Tom’s a good recruiter. Up and comer. He’s a junior me,”
Max laughed and squeezed my shoulder. I chuckled for his benefit. “Christine is
our senior recruiter. She’s tough, determined and takes absolutely no shit off
of anyone. I’m glad you didn’t back down. You show fear around her, you’ll have
to piss on your own desk to mark it as your own, otherwise she’ll take anything
she can get.”

We strolled to the huge glassed-in room and I realized that
it was not in fact a conference room, but rather it was Max’s office. He
flicked on the light and illumined the entire place, revealing a polished wood
desk and cabinets, bookshelves and end tables. It was truly an executive
office, but unlike most old school executives, Max’s office had one critical
difference.

On his desk sat a state of the art desktop computer and flat
screen monitor. That told me something about him. This was a man who took his
job seriously and did not leave the running of the business to other people. He
was willing to roll up his sleeves and work side-by-side with his employees. I
had to respect that.

I noticed from my peripheral vision a woman approaching from
my right, but it wasn’t until Max addressed her that I truly took notice.

“Jessica? Have you got a second?” he asked.

The woman stopped and I saw she was on a cell phone call.
She told the person she’d call back and rang off, giving us her full attention.

I’m not one to be taken by physical beauty. A woman is who
she is, not what she looks like. But this woman was truly, classically pretty.
Her auburn hair framed her face in soft curls. Her green eyes were lively and
inviting. I couldn’t help but want to talk to her. And when she smiled, I felt
like I could enjoy her company for quite a long while.

“Jessica Madison, this is Simon Parks,” Max said. I’d begun
to grow tired of his introductions, but this one was a worthy exception. “He’ll
be working with us in recruiting.”

“Hi! Welcome aboard,” Jessica said warmly. “I’m sure we’ll
be talking a lot in the next few days.”

“Jessica’s our junior recruiter here, but she brings some
excellent background in corporate records and documentation. She’s our expert
in research,” Max filled in. “You two will be working closely together on
special projects.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll talk soon.”

And then she was gone. Charming woman. I’d have to get to
know her better.

“Your office is right this way,” Max explained. He led me to
the office that flanked his. I began to understand the layout now. Max Donovan’s
office sat in the center of the north wall. His senior recruiters, Christine
Frost and myself, had offices on either side of his on the west and east walls
respectively. On the outside, beside the senior recruiters’ offices, were Tom
Ellis and Jessica Madison.

Max flipped the light on in my office and I could see the
bare essentials of office furniture. A desk, a chair, a credenza… it was there
for me to make it home, as much as I wanted to.

“Thank you,” I said. “This will be just fine.”

“Your PC is set up and our network techs will give you all
the support you need to get started. Come into my office for a moment. I want
to show you something.”

I followed Max back to his office and sat in the chair
across from him. He spun his chair around and opened a cabinet behind him
revealing a safe. He turned the lock and opened the heavy steel door. Then, he
reached inside and removed a file folder. The paper clip on the outside of the
folder shifted and in a brief blur, I noted a thin document within the project
folder with the words “SECRET” stamped discretely across its face. A small
flash of panic went through me and I wondered how far from Blackthorn I’d
really wandered. But the truth was companies all across the country do business
with the government. Every day, software development for government agencies is
outsourced to private firms. Safety precautions had relaxed in a post-911
backlash to the harsh restrictions on private firms being used.

The process was relatively simple. An agent from the United
States Secret Service would come and visit the facility of the company to do
the work. They would verify that the work being done was held in the strictest
confidence and that company could hold security clearances to do the needed
work. This was no different. There were no shadows in the closet here, I
assured myself.

Max found the page he was looking for, leaned back in his
chair and locked his gaze on me.

“Simon, the Department of Homeland Security is concerned
about their internal security, specifically security of their information
systems,” Max began.

This wasn’t really news to me. This was a fairly obvious
statement. It was their job to be paranoid.

“Specifically, their concern lies in the area of their
finances. Since the Enron and Goldman Sachs debacles, I’m sure you know what’s
happened in the area of IT Auditing.”

“Of course,” I replied. “Sarbanes-Oxley compliance has
become a huge area of concern for publicly traded companies. Millions have been
spent to bring in consultants in order to comply with that law.”

“Then imagine if you will, how important it is to the DHS,”
Max said, his eyes boring into mine, “to track funding for every operation in
the war on terror. And to keep that information absolutely secure.”

The ramifications were obvious. If information on funding
for DHS operations were ever to get into the open, the details of the
operations and where that money was being spent weren’t far behind. It was the
backdoor that would cripple domestic counterterrorist operations.

“I see your point,” I said quietly.

“We’ve been tasked by the Undersecretary of Management and
the CFO to find a project manager to lead a project to test security of the
financial systems within the Department of Homeland Security,” Max’s voice was
lowering with each word, his eyes intent. This was gravely important. The sink
or swim moment.

“What’s the JO look like,” I asked, inquiring about the job
order.

“Fairly extensive write up but the long and short of it is
this,” Max explained. “We need someone who can test system security from the
hacker side. A real black hat operation on the front-end. Find a way to beat
the system, holes in security, any possible way in. Then, it’s all white hat…
lead the team to stop outsiders from doing the same.” “Basically, plug the
holes behind them,” I offered.

“Precisely.”

“What’s the talent pool look like?” I asked.

“Active Top Secret clearance, experience doing these kinds
of projects before or at least references that can speak to their abilities,
even if they can’t publish it on their resume. We’re looking for a criminal
hacker, except one that will work for us. Savvy enough to get dirty.
Professional enough to fix the problems.”

“When do we begin?” I asked.

“The clock is running, Simon,” Max said somberly.

I unclipped the cell phone from my belt and began dialing.

“Alright,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s do this…”

“I’m sorry?” Max asked, puzzled.

“We’re going to find you the best security guy in the
business. I’m just hoping he’s still in the country. And not in lockdown.”

“Right now?” Max asked.

“Right now.”

Chapter Five

There are moments in life when the
best approach is to take it easy and let the answers come to you. This was not
one of those moments. I was under the gun, under pressure to find the perfect
candidate for the hottest project in the market right now and time was
critical. Failure was not an option. There was no free pass, no easy way out.
It was put up or shut up time.

How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found? You
make them come to you. I dialed from memory and was listening to the phone
ring.

“Who are you calling?” Max whispered, leaning across his
desk. I looked at Max and wondered how much I should tell him. A name wouldn’t
hurt.

“Chris Swenson,” I said.

“The Christopher Swenson?” Max hissed. I didn’t bother to
answer him. Chris Swenson had made the news three years ago when he’d managed
to hack into NASA. What didn’t reach the news was that the NASA job was a cover
for his real pet project, hacking into ECHELON, the global network for
monitoring communications by phone, fax, email and everything else practically
down to smoke signals. Blackthorn had found him before he was successful.

I first met Swenson in an interrogation room in what the
newspapers would describe only as an undisclosed location. The field agents
called it the “Recreation Room” and from the looks of Swenson, they’d had a bit
of fun with him while bringing him into custody. He was scuffed and bruised and
cuffed to the wall. His face was crimson with anger and his “Off-Duty Ninja”
shirt was torn at the collar. He looked like he was best friends with a plate
of ribs and wouldn’t recognize a treadmill if he walked past one. I recruited
Chris that day and put him to work for me.

Chris and I and a team of agents took on terrorist
operations up and down the east coast for six months. Then, one day, Chris
disappeared. He vanished without a word and went off the grid. I knew the work
made Chris high-strung. I knew the work made Chris high-strung. He would gulp
down Redbulls and pork rinds, then wash that down with double espressos. But
the thing about people like Chris is that they are irrevocably tied to
technology. They can’t bear the thought of not being in touch, no matter how
much it could come back and bite them in the ass.

I tried his home phone and work phone of the small PC fix-it
shop he ran. Both numbers were disconnected. I tried his cell and heard the
message that his number had been changed. Chris had used scrambled mobile
phones on Blackthorn operations so I’d never needed to use his personal cell
number. That’s the only reason he hung onto it. I dialed the alternate number
and got Chris’ voicemail at his new cellphone. He sounded better, healthier in
his message. I couldn’t discount what a life away from the stress of our
business could do.

“Hi, this is Chris Swenson of Clarion Corporation. I’m
unable to take your call...” Chris’ voice droned on until finally he said, “If
you need assistance immediately, please call extension 338 to speak to Joe
Beckett in IT Security.”

“He’s working at Clarion,” I said.

“The software design company?” Max asked. “Don’t they do…
video games or something?” I was already dialing again.

“Video games are incredibly well-guarded secrets in their
industries,” I said. “You take the top software developers in the country, pay
them a ton of money and put them in a hyper-competitive marketplace. Somebody
better be watching security.”

I dialed information and got the number for Clarion. They
put me through to the front desk and I dialed Joe Beckett’s extension… except
for the last digit. I didn’t want the security person who worked for Chris. I
wanted Chris himself.

While the phone rang, I gestured to Max that I needed
something to write on. He pulled a legal pad from his top drawer and handed it
to me. I saw him look up then and wave someone in from the doorway. It was
Christine Frost. She approached and sat down, quietly listening. Max was
explaining something to her, I assumed giving her the play-by-play of my call.

The phone was picked up a moment later by a woman.

“This is Susan,” she said, her voice pleasant. I had no idea
what department she worked in or what her position was, so this next part was
critical.

“Hi Susan,” I said. I softened my voice and tried to be
charming without coming off as smarmy. “My name is Max Frost and I’m the new
field technician for Clarion. I’m working under Joe Beckett in IT security…” I
watched both Max and Christine stiffen as I threw their names into the mix and
tried not to chuckle.

“Oh, yes…” Susan said. I could tell from the uncertainty in
her voice that she couldn’t confirm or deny this story. There was some truth to
it by using Joe Beckett’s name but she didn’t know me. Surely I must be the new
guy, just not added to the company directory yet.

“Well, Susan,” I continued, “I’m having some serious issues
with the remote network and I don’t want to compromise any of our data. Joe’s
busy at the moment and I really need to talk to someone.”

She was flustered now, unsure of how she fit into the
picture.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“Susan, all I need is the directory listing for Chris
Swenson. I’m up to my eyeballs in cabling down here and I don’t have his number
programmed into my phone. Could you get that for me? I’d be so grateful.”

I could hear her flipping pages and then she rattled off a
number. It was completely different from Joe Beckett’s number. I’d never have
found him by intentionally misdialing off of Beckett’s number. Chris was
entrenched, well-hidden.

I looked up. Tom Ellis had joined us. Christine was watching
me.

“Did you find your mystery man?” she asked. Her tone seemed
to indicate that she doubted if I ever would.

“Why yes, I did,” I said. Ellis smiled, then quickly hid it
when Christine looked up at him. I saw that woman walking by again. Jessica…
that was her name. I gestured to Ellis. “Could you ask her to join us please?”

Ellis ran out of the room and a moment later returned.
Jessica smiled when she saw me in the middle of everyone.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

I tore a piece of paper off the pad and handed it to her.

“We’re recruiting someone,” I said. “I need you to call this
number. The man at the other end will be Chris Swenson…”

“The Christopher Swenson?” she asked. I wondered for a
moment why everyone did that, but simply continued.

“Yes, tell him that your name is Susan from extension 337
inside Clarion Corp. Tell him you just got a phone call from someone that you
think is a hacker trying to get company names from the directory.”

“You mean social engineering?” Jessica asked.

I was pleasantly surprised that she knew the term.

“Yes, exactly, but don’t use those words or he’ll know
you’re not Susan. Then tell him that the person who called dialed in from this
number…” I handed her another sheet of paper.

Jessica looked at the numbers, at me, at Max and back to me
again.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“That’s it,” I replied with a smile.

Jessica began dialing and Christine couldn’t help but pipe
up.

“Oh for God’s sake, that’s never going to work,” she said.
“No one does these ruse calls anymore, because they don’t work.”

“Well, we’ll just see won’t we?” Max said. He was eyeing me.
I knew he was wondering if I could pull it off. No one hoped that more than I.

I watched Jessica and was amazed at her confidence, how she
took direction and applied it immediately. This was obviously foreign turf for
her, but she picked it up without blinking an eye.

“Hello?... yes… this is Susan at extension 337 at the
Clarion offices... Right… someone just called… no, I don’t know who it was… he
was asking for names out of the company directory… no, he didn’t say who he
was… no, I don’t know!” Her voice was more emphatic this time and I wondered if
our mask of deception might be slipping. “He left this number, though… yes…”
She read him the number, thanked him and hung up.

“Very nicely done,” I said.

“Really?” Jessica asked. Her face was hopeful. I hadn’t been
around anyone like this. Eager to learn, not jaded or cynical.

“Absolutely.”

“I don’t see what that accomplished,” Christine said.
“You’re not any closer to recruiting that person now than you were before.”

“Do you really think he’ll call?” Ellis asked. He saw
through the posturing and bull to what the entire point of the exercise was, to
get Chris to call me.

I raised my cell phone and looked at the display. I wasn’t
grandstanding. I wasn’t putting on a show. I waited… a beat… then two… I could
feel everyone watching me… and then my phone rang. I allowed myself the
smallest of smiles before I answered.

“Hello, Christopher.”

“Oh, son of a bitch…” He said, his voice barely a whisper.

It was him. No number of years could make me forget that
guy.

“I thought you were dead…” he breathed.

“Those rumors have been greatly exaggerated,” I said. “Got a
minute? Or would you like me to come down to your office for a visit?”

“No, no, no… don’t come down here,” he said. Chris was
panicky. I could imagine him looking for a conference room or his office,
anywhere that he could talk and not be overheard. “Ok, go ahead. I can talk
now.”

“Been behaving yourself?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah… straight and narrow, man.”

“Good. Hate to hear otherwise. Look. I need something.”

“Wh-what is it?”

I smiled to myself. I had his attention and he knew that
there was nowhere on the planet that he could hide from me. One way or another,
I’d track him down.

“I have a little project I want to talk to you about with
the Federal Government…”

“Oh my God…”

***

We walked out of the office after
the call and I hung back to walk out with Jessica. She smiled at me.

“Thanks for including me on that,” she said.

“Oh, I was glad to do it,” I said. “You were perfect.”

“Yes, it looks like it actually worked,” Christine offered.
She’d been walking out ahead of us, but couldn’t help but interject her
opinion. “Congratulations.”

Christine gave me a pinched smile before she turned and
walked away. Somehow I couldn’t help but feel like I’d won a battle but was
losing the war with her. Like winning an argument with your wife… you don’t
really win.

Standing next to Jessica, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d
done some good though. I was getting the impression that maybe she trusted me a
little, maybe even liked me a little. Not that I was hoping for anything. I just
wasn’t looking for enemies.

“I really couldn’t have pulled that off without you,” I
said.

“You would have thought of something,” she offered.

“I did. You were the best idea I’ve had all week.”

She smiled and we walked back to my office.

“I’d invite you in, but it looks like someone just moved in
here,” I said.

“Yes, it does. Do you have plans for lunch?”

“To eat. Don’t know what… or with whom.”

“There’s a nice sandwich place on the first floor,” she
offered. “Soup and deli sandwiches. If that’s your thing.”

That was my thing.

“I’ll be going at around 12:30 if you want to tag along,”
she said. She wasn’t offering to buy, wasn’t even offering to let me buy. She
was just putting it out there, one coworker to another.

“Sounds great,” I smiled.

We did have lunch together that day. Jessica paid for her
meal, I paid for mine. We talked over ravioli soup and hot turkey sandwiches on
fresh baked bread.

“So? Looks like your first day is going well,” Jessica said.

“I suppose.”

“You’ve got a submittal on your first day. That’s great!”
Jessica had a lot of enthusiasm for the job, which was great. You had to have a
passion for this business or it would eat you alive.

“Thanks,” I said. “So, tell me… about yourself. God, that
sounded like an interview question…”

We laughed together at that and she took a bite of her
sandwich. She was neat about eating without being dainty. I liked that.

“Sorry, it’s hard to shut off work sometimes,” I said with a
smile.

She shrugged and swallowed.

“I’ve been recruiting for a couple years now,” she said.
“Before that I was a working contractor doing research, competitive
intelligence, business warehouse, that kind of thing.”

I was about to take a drink of my Coke and stopped.

“That’s what you do, not who you are,” I said. “What do you
do when you’re not here?”

“Oh… well, I go to movies…” she began.

“What kind?” I asked. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was
curious, wanting more than the glossed over, pleased-to-meet-you version.

“Comedies mostly, independent films…”

“Who do you like?”

“Christopher Guest is great,” she said.

“’Best in Show’,” I supplied.

“Right! Do you like him?”

“I’ve seen that. I enjoyed it.”

“He does good work,” Jessica said.

“Which begs the question… Dog person or cat person?” I
asked.

“Both,” she sighed and laughed. “I’ve got one of each. Oscar
and Felix.”

“Odd Couple. Very funny.”

“Neil Simon” we said, frighteningly near unison.

“So, what about you?” she asked.

“What about me?” I realized that my comeback might have
sounded defensive. I was punchy. This was new territory for me. Unfamiliar.
“Oh, dog or cat? Dog… I’m a dog person.”

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“I’m between canines at the moment,” I said. “Maybe once
we’re settled in the new house.”

“We? So, you’re…” she didn’t know how to finish the
sentence. Which was the safer side to land on? Married or kids? Or both? I
decided to bail her out and not let her hang.