Zero Day: A Novel (29 page)

“Who is, in your opinion?”

“The Division of Counter Cyberterrorism. That’s you, George. That’s why we’re here.”

Carlton was sweating now. He licked his upper lip. For long seconds he remained motionless. All he could think was
Superphreak!

Jeff leaned forward. “You’re not going to sit on this too, are you?” Daryl looked sharply at him but Jeff paid no attention to her; his eyes focused on Carlton like lasers.

Carlton drew himself up. “I’ve never sat on anything important. Despite what you think, Jeff.”

Jeff laughed, the sound coming out more like a sharp bark. “You make me sick! I gave you the World Trade Center Towers as targets, the Pentagon, for God’s sake! I gave you the names of five of the hijackers and you did nothing!”

Carlton seemed to recoil. “It’s true, but you gave me a lot of unrelated information as well. But that’s not the point. I passed the report up. I can’t be held responsible if no one believed you.”

Jeff shot to his feet. “You son of a bitch!”

Daryl stood up, taking control. “Jeff! Leave this room now! I’ll take care of this from here.”

Jeff stood immobile, then abruptly turned away and walked stiffly out the door. Carlton leaned back, removed a handkerchief, and wiped his brow. “Thank you. I thought he was going to assault me.”

“But he didn’t,” she said. “Are you all right?”

Carlton drew a deep breath, still staring at the closed door, then slowly released it. “Yes. You see how emotional he can be, though.”

“I don’t want his anger to temper my message,” Daryl warned. “I need for you to lean on the security vendors, to get as much of the government moving on this as possible.”

“You think it’s that serious?” Carlton struggled to regain some composure. He was finding it impossible to get his mind on track.

“I think in eleven days we’re going to wish to God we’d done something more. You can be absolutely certain people are going to ask questions. At the least, we need to show that we did everything we could.”

“Yes, yes,” Carlton hurried to reassure her, “I understand and agree. I’ll see to it at once. Today, in fact.”

“Thank you.” Daryl gazed at Carlton, who’d behaved oddly for most of this meeting, and wondered if she could trust him. “I’m going to see to Jeff now. He’s in no state to be left alone.” She rose. “I guess I asked too much bringing him here. I apologize for that outburst.”

“It’s all right. I respect how he feels. I just wish he could see my position.”

A grateful Daryl shook Carlton’s hand, then left his office. For once, he didn’t check out her ass the minute she turned her back to him.

Carlton staggered over to his desk. His mind was whirling.
How could I be so stupid?
he thought. Frantic, he replayed his last conversation with Fajer. He had to act, had to do
something
!

*   *   *

Jeff wasn’t outside Carlton’s office or in the lobby. Instead, Daryl found him leaning against her car in the parking lot, staring in disbelief at his BlackBerry.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Jeff looked up at her, stunned. “I just received a message from the IT manager’s assistant at the law firm in New York. Sue Tabor was found murdered this morning. She was in a hotel room with the firm’s managing partner. They’d both been tortured.”

47

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

HOTEL LUXOR

EAST THIRTIETH STREET

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 1

5:33 P.M.

Brian Manfield spent the day in two different movie theaters. He’d found them to be as safe a refuge as there was when on a mission. Movie theaters were dark, with a large room to disappear in. They also had several exits; the police would have to be certain the man they wanted was inside to cover them all.

And he liked American hot dogs. He’d been told the very best were sold at baseball games, but he’d never attended one. He found it difficult to believe any could be better than those he’d enjoyed that day.

Manfield’s mind had not been on any of the movies that played across the screen, though. Instead, he’d relived the experiences of the previous night. Extracting the information from them had not been difficult. Threat alone had been sufficient to learn everything they knew. Once satisfied, he’d slit both their throats before taking a shower.

They were long dead as he dressed, making certain no blood was on his clothes. The hallway had been clear when he’d left the room, and there was no security camera to avoid. A clerk had been at the front desk, but Manfield had turned his face and was on the street within a moment.

He finished his third hot dog of the day and wondered what they put in them. They had to be unhealthy, but he didn’t care. Wonderful. He glanced at his watch. It was time.

Outside, the city was beginning to slow from the bustle of the day. He walked eight blocks to the Hotel Luxor, glad to stretch and get the exercise, then positioned himself in the shadows of the alley across the street, checking first to make certain he had the alley to himself. Removing the pistol, he screwed the silencer onto it, then slipped it into his right jacket pocket. He had a good description, but it could apply to any number of men. He’d need to be certain first. From here he could cover both directions to the hotel. He hoped the man would be back soon.

There was much to do and, as always, little time in which to do it.

48

MOSCOW, RUSSIAN FEDERATION

DMITROSVSKY ADMINISTRATIVE DISTRICT

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 1

6:38 P.M.

The two-bedroom apartment was spacious and well lit, with a southern exposure. It was new, and empty of all furniture, which only heightened the sense of size. It was everything Boris had promised.

“It will be like living in a gymnasium,” Ivana said.

The building manager who was showing it to them smiled agreeably.

From his wheelchair, Vladimir said, “It will fill up fast. My stuff will take up an entire bedroom.”

“Everything is to European standards,” the building manager said. “High-speed cable in every room. It’s all very modern.” He was a short, unshaven man, the kind of “new” Russian who’d secretly become rich in the last decade.

Down a hallway they heard laughter. “It seems a bit noisy,” Ivana said.

The man shrugged. “Not so much. We do have a few lighthearted types, but it is not an issue. They are reasonable. You will find this as quiet as any such building in Moscow.”

“When is it available?” Vladimir asked. If he wanted silence, they would have to move to a dacha in the country.

“Now, of course. Today. I will need your decision and the deposit if you decide to take it, before you leave. I have others scheduled to see the apartment later.”

“Perhaps we could have a moment to talk in private?” Ivana said.

“Of course. I’ll return in ten minutes.”

Ivana walked about the open space, stepping briefly into each room. “What do you think?” she asked her husband, who was sitting in the middle of the living room in his wheelchair.

“It will do. It’s expensive, though.”

“You said you wanted more room. You said you have the money. I can keep looking, but this is the first suitable place I’ve found in six months.”

Vladimir said nothing as he fumbled a cigarette out of a package and lit it. “I’d like to take it. I don’t think I can stand our place any longer. I feel like I’m suffocating there.”

Ivana thought of the rent, more than she made in an entire month. She couldn’t possibly make the payment on her own. “Can we afford it? Really?” She still wasn’t certain her husband was telling her the truth.

“Yes,” Vladimir said irritably. “I wouldn’t say take it otherwise. Why don’t you listen to me?”

“And what if State Security comes crashing in some night? What then?” Her grandfather had vanished in that very way. It had been the worst night of her life, one that came back to her again and again in her nightmares. She’d watched her grandmother wither away and die the following year.

“That won’t happen. I’m not working for the Mafia. How many times must I tell you? I’m not breaking laws.”

“You have. You used to brag to me about it.”

“That was a long time ago. It was stupid of me to do that, and I don’t think there were laws about it then anyway.”

“But you were glad to do it. I remember how you told all your computer friends. Then I learned hackers used what you learned and ruined computers or stole records. It was terrible. It’s like you are a burglar or something. I want an honest life, Vlad. After all I’ve done, haven’t I earned one?”

Vladimir lit a cigarette. “Yes, you have. Believe me, I’ve told you everything.” Ten minutes later he counted out one thousand euros into the sweaty hands of the manager.

49

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

FISCHERMAN, PLATT & COHEN

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 1

8:33 P.M.

Jeff and Daryl said little on the shuttle back to New York City. Daryl had taken a window seat and stared morosely into the early-evening sky. Jeff withdrew into his own thoughts, trying to make sense of the murders.

Torture suggested someone wanted information. What could an IT manager know that would be of interest to anyone? Or the managing partner of a law firm? It made no sense, unless it was a psychopath. Difficult as it was to believe such people existed, he knew they did.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the murders were connected to Superphreak in some way. No one killed anyone over a virus, but this was no ordinary virus. The idea struck him as ridiculous, yet plausible at the same time, causing him to feel even more disoriented.

As soon as the plane landed, Jeff called the IT Center directly at Fischerman, Platt & Cohen. He’d tried several times before boarding with no luck. This time Harold answered. He was clearly distraught and could scarcely speak, but managed to convey that he was still working his way through backups.

“I’m going to the law firm,” Jeff said to Daryl as they walked toward ground transportation. “Want to come?”

“If you think I can help.”

“I do. And I’d like you to come.” He could use the emotional support, he realized.

Traffic as they entered the city was heavy as it made the transition into the weekend. The feel of Manhattan was different as night descended, it seemed to Jeff. Or perhaps that was due to the murders. Suddenly, his world seemed darker than it had been since 9/11. With a certainty that startled him, he grasped the connection. What had begun that terrible day in 2001 was continuing; events that had cost him so much then were now poised to engulf his world again.

He placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder, which seemed thinner and more vulnerable than ever. “We need to be careful,” he warned her, seated with him in the back of a cab.

She turned to face him.

“There may very well be a connection between Superphreak and the murders.”

Daryl looked at him as if he’d just slapped her. The car bobbed as it hit a dip, then droned as it crossed a bridge with a metal surface. Jeff held her gaze. “I don’t believe this is simply about hackers. It’s clear to me it’s something much bigger.” Her eyes grew round as she took in what he was saying.

A few moments later they arrived at the offices of Fischerman, Platt & Cohen, taking the elevator to the IT Center. Perhaps three associates were at their desks. Otherwise the office was darkened and empty. Compared to when he’d first arrived, it seemed all but abandoned to Jeff.

They knocked, then entered. Harold was there, his young face set with determination. He looked up from his computer screen with watery eyes. “Any luck?” Jeff asked. He’d expressed his condolences by telephone earlier when he’d asked Harold to stay over that day.

“Yeah. I think I’ve located it.” Harold looked tired, but determined to do all he could to help. He’d had a crush on Sue. She’d been smart, knew computers, and treated him like an equal. Her death left him feeling empty.

“Good. Show me, then let us get to work.” When he introduced Daryl, Harold waved at her without interest. “How are you doing?” Jeff asked as Harold typed, even though he knew Sue’s young assistant had been devastated by her murder.

“I’m glad you gave me something to do. Sue always ran the show here and gave me instructions. I was lost.” He looked at Jeff. “I guess I should be looking for a job or something.”

“Probably. How’s the firm taking the losses?”

“Pretty bad. Things weren’t looking so great, now this. Some people…” Harold’s voice trailed off and he stopped typing. Jeff placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Some people aren’t so nice, you know?” Harold continued, his voice wavering. “They said, ‘Good,’ when we got word, as if Sue and Mr. Greene had it coming for messing up. I just hate them!” Harold finished typing while choking back tears.

“Go home, Harold,” Jeff said, squeezing his shoulder. “Get some rest. Thank you for your help. I know how much Sue valued you and what you did. Try and remember the good, okay? It will help a little.”

The young man nodded, looked at Daryl in farewell, then gathered his knapsack and left.

“What are we doing?” Daryl asked, as Jeff sat at the monitor.

“I’m trying to find out what got Sue killed.”

Harold had left the computer open in one of the chat rooms Sue had visited. But Jeff found that he couldn’t really concentrate. Always in the past he’d been able to put from his mind any concerns he had. In fact, he’d buried himself in work after Cynthia’s death primarily to block the pain.

But he found he was still stunned at the murder of Sue Tabor and Joshua Greene. He’d liked Sue. She’d been attractive, bright, and dedicated. He’d even come to like Greene, though it was now more apparent why he’d dropped by the IT Center so often. Still, he’d never pressed Jeff unreasonably for results as his clients often did. He’d seemed to understand the enormous job with which Jeff had been tasked. He was horrified at the thought of both of them tortured and murdered. Neither of them had deserved what was done to them.

The extent of the evil he and Daryl were confronting threatened to overwhelm him. Memories, both real and imagined, of Cynthia and the awful death she’d suffered crowded his mind. But when he turned toward Daryl, the sight of her quietly working at Harold’s computer, her attention totally focused on the screen in front of her, had an unexpected calming effect on him.
She’s right,
Jeff thought,
and she’s exactly the person I want by my side
. Turning back to his own screen, he gave it his full attention.