Endgame (Last Chance Series)

by Dee Davis

  "That was Harrison," she said, still struggling for composure. "There's a problem with the computers."

  "What kind of problem?" He was instantly alert, his voice disturbingly normal.

  "The disk array has been wiped."

  "Sabotage." It wasn't a question, but she answered anyway.

  "He thinks so." She drew in a breath, feeling calmer, her thoughts on the problem at hand. "Cullen's with him. And they want us there as soon as possible."

  "All right then, let's go." He stood up, closing the space between them, reaching out to trace the line of her lower lip. "But make no mistake, Madison, we're not finished here."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "HOW BAD IS IT?" Gabe asked, striding into the room, Madison at his side.

  "Nothing's retrievable. It's been wiped clean." Harrison swiveled his chair to face them. "Everything was backed up, of course. But it'll take time to get it all running again."

  "Is it just our system? Or Cullen's, as well?" Gabe asked, trying to assimilate the consequences of the crash.

  "Cullen's was hit, but not to the same extent." Harrison shot a glance at the man who was standing in the corner, talking on the phone. "With his people working on it, he should be back up by morning."

  "Thank goodness we've got you here to work on ours," Madison said, moving to stand behind Harrison as he resumed working at the computer.

  Gabe fought a surge of irritation. She'd hardly spoken to him since they'd left her apartment, and here she was practically fawning over Harrison. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. What the hell did he care who she shacked up with? "What caused the crash?"

  "It wasn't a crash. At least not in the sense of mechanical failure." Harrison pulled up a diagnostics screen. "This was definitely sabotage. A virus, maybe. I don't know. After I restore the system, I can run more detailed diagnostics."

  "You think it was a prank?" Madison asked, leaning over for a better look at the screen.

  "No way." Harrison shook his head. "We've got a firewall, a secure Internet connection and about a dozen other security measures. If someone got into the system, it's because they wanted to."

  "But if it was intentional, why didn't it do more damage? You've already said everything was backed up. Surely a hacker would be aware of that fact." Gabe was far from an expert at computers, but this seemed a blinding glimpse of the obvious.

  "That's exactly the question I've been asking." Cullen walked over to the computer bank. "If they were trying to destroy my system, why attack you? And if they were after your system, why didn't they do a better job?"

  Madison shrugged. "Maybe they were just inept."

  "No way." Harrison shook his head, underscoring his words. "This was deliberate. If they knew enough to get in, they knew enough to do more damage."

  "So what was the point? To send a message?" Gabe couldn't contain his growl. It had been a hell of a day.

  "No." Madison turned to face him, her brows drawn together in thought. "They wanted to cover something up."

  "That doesn't—"

  "Think about it," she said, cutting him off. "They wiped our system clean. And hit parts of Cullen's, as well. But didn't do any lasting damage. All that's lost is the record of activity after the backup."

  "Which I did before I left for the night," Harrison said. "But I'm still not with you."

  "Okay. Think about an intentional crime. I'm talking about something planned. Like a murder or a robbery."

  Gabe watched as Harrison and Cullen considered her words. He wasn't sure exactly where she was going, but he was definitely interested in seeing how she presented her case.

  "What's the last thing the unsub would do? After completing his objective?" Her gaze encompassed them all, waiting, and Gabe fought against the urge to answer, to win her approval, knowing he was just caught up in the moment. He needed Madison Harper's approval like he needed another assignment in Iraq.

  "I get it." Harrison said, his enthusiasm rising. "He wipes the room down. Gets rid of any evidence that he's been there at all."

  "Exactly." Madison beamed, her attention still on Harrison.

  "And that's what our perpetrator did," Cullen said. "He hacked into the system, then covered his tracks."

  "Seems a big leap to me," Gabe said, watching as Madison's smile turned to a scowl.

  "I think it makes a lot of sense, actually." Harrison was quick to jump to Madison's defense. "When you access a computer—any computer—you leave a trail. Sometimes it's really obscure. But it's there. And if a programmer knows where to look, he can find it."

  "But if the system has been erased, there's nothing to find." Cullen, too, was obviously on Madison's side.

  "All right," Gabe said, his tone grudging. "I'll admit the idea has merit. But in order for it to have value, we need to find out what he was after."

  "That's going to be a bit trickier." Harrison turned back to the computer. "Once I've restored the system, all traces of the failure will be eliminated. I've run almost all the diagnostics I can without rebooting. So it's sort of a rock and a hard place."

  "What about tackling it from Cullen's end?" Madison had moved over to look at the computer screen. "You said they had damage, as well. But his system wasn't wiped clean, right? Maybe you can work backward from there."

  Gabe had to admit it was sound thinking. "Is that possible?"

  "It might work." Harrison frowned, obviously considering the idea. "A lot of it depends on if they actually accessed Cullen's computer or if the failure there was merely a proximity problem. Our servers are linked by necessity."

  "You certainly have my authorization to have a look. Anything we can do to find out what's going on. If an unauthorized access was made to either computer I want to know about it." Cullen's expression was grim. "Could the problem have generated from my computer system?"

  Harrison shook his head. "Based on what I'm seeing I'd say it definitely started with us."

  "Which leaves some really big questions. Not that many people know we're here, right?" Gabe asked.

  "I haven't broadcast it, if that's what you mean." Cullen shrugged. "But I haven't kept it a secret, either. I thought your presence might actually act as a deterrent. So I imagine most of the employees here are aware of your existence. And of course, the consortium members know."

  "So we're talking at least a couple hundred people." Madison sighed. "Which means finding the culprit will be next to impossible."

  "At the moment, I'm more interested in what they wanted." Gabe walked over to Harrison. "I want you to see if you can use Cullen's system to back in to the information. We need to get someone over here to check for physical evidence. Although I suspect it's been destroyed." He glanced down at the keyboard.

  Harrison winced. "Sorry. I should have thought about that. I was just so shocked to find the system failure."

  "It's totally understandable," Gabe said. "I'd have probably reacted the same way. Still, it's worth checking out. I'll put a call in to Nigel."

  "I already contacted him." Madison's gaze held just a hint of one-upmanship, and despite himself, he smiled. "He's on the way."

  Yeah, he'd definitely underestimated her. But the jury was still out on whether that was a good or a bad thing.

  *****

  "YOU'RE WIRED tighter than the Energizer Bunny. Something else going on?" Harrison asked, his keen eyes seeing far more than Madison wanted him to.

  They were sitting in the Marriott's bar. Harrison had gone as far as he could with Cullen's computer system, the rest would have to wait until morning. She hadn't wanted to go back to her apartment and hadn't been up to staying at the scene. Besides, her expertise was putting together who from what, so she was better off letting the others work on the what.

  "Just three murders, a hacked computer, and an apparent conspiracy with the potential to affect all international trade as we know it. Not to mention Cullen's involvement. I don't like the idea that he might be a target."

  "How about your
dad? He have any dealings with this consortium?"

  Madison shook her head. "He's not interested in China. Not until they're more technologically advanced, anyway. I think the truth is that he doesn't want the political ramifications. His bread is buttered on the other side."

  "Frankly, I don't see how you keep up without a scorecard."

  She allowed herself a smile. "I've had lots of practice."

  They sat for the moment, letting the sound of the bar wash over them, happy conventioneers whose only care was which seminar to attend in the morning.

  "Have you formed any impressions about who might be behind all of this?"

  "Isn't that the question of the hour?" Madison sighed, and took a sip of wine. "The first two deaths point to someone with experience and contacts. Either someone in the medical field, or a pro. And based on the way things went down with Bingham Smith, I'd lean toward assassin. But the fire is another thing entirely. Really messy. Hit the man, then burn the evidence."

  "Seems logical to me."

  "In a situation where the murder was unplanned, or unintentional maybe. But if we're to believe it was planned, then it doesn't follow. The fire didn't destroy the evidence. Granted, the first M.E. missed the details, but Tracy didn't."

  "She didn't miss the potassium chloride, either. So does that count as a mistake?"

  "No. A pro. He doesn't care if the method is discovered as long as it doesn't point to him. Ultimately, he just wants the man dead—preferably with as little fanfare as possible. That's the problem with all three murders really. If it was terrorists, why not a more dramatic attack? Something to really hit the news and make waves. Surely that would be the best way to guarantee the accord failed."

  "Maybe not." Gabriel's baritone filtered down from above her, and she looked up to meet his glacial stare. "Mind if I join you?"

  Yes came to mind, but it probably wouldn't stop him, so she resisted the urge to voice it. Instead she waved at the empty chair next to Harrison, but he ignored it and sat beside her, his thigh grazing hers in the process. She waited for him to move it, but he didn't, instead leaning back, the movement pressing him closer. With a feigned sigh, she shifted her chair away from him.

  Gabriel lifted an eyebrow in amusement, but stayed put, signaling a passing waitress and ordering a whiskey on the rocks. "You were saying that the obvious ploy for a terrorist is to make a splash."

  "And you, as usual, were disagreeing." She hadn't meant to snap, but the man was trying, to say the least.

  Harrison's lips quivered as he tried to contain a laugh.

  "The problem with your logic is that there is more than one kind of terrorist." Gabriel went on as if they were having a normal conversation. "The first is the kind you referenced. They're in it for the impact. And publicity only helps that. They jump at the opportunity to claim responsibility."

  He paused to pay for his drink, then continued. "But some terrorists are more like soldiers. Attacking an enemy using less-than-acceptable means to achieve their goals."

  "How does that differ from Delta Force, or black ops?" Madison voiced the question before she thought about how it sounded. Or maybe some part of her had asked it on purpose, wanting to goad him the same way he did her.

  "It doesn't, really." He shrugged, ignoring her barb. "It's all a matter of perspective. If someone is fighting for your interests you're much less likely to question their methods or label them. If it's the enemy, then…"

  "Surely there's a difference between someone righteously striking an enemy even under clandestine circumstances, and someone who randomly blows away innocents." Harrison leaned forward, interested.

  "Morally, there is definitely a difference. But righteousness is in the eye of the beholder. And in either case the attackers could be termed terrorists."

  "While I appreciate the lesson, I don't see how it applies here." She still sounded snippy and hated herself for it. She'd always prided herself on her self-control. "We're not talking about either flagrant attacks, or anything remotely righteous. In fact, if I had to call it, I'd say that greed was the most likely motivation."

  "Bigger crimes than this have been committed for less." Gabriel shrugged. "The point is that even with the lack of splash, this could still be considered terrorism. If some entity is determined to stop the accord, and killing the consortium's key members to do it, then the methodology doesn't matter. They're still considered acts of terror. Especially in today's political climate."

  Madison nodded, not really listening to his argument, a new thought having occurred to her. "Has anyone thought to check the Chinese delegation? Maybe they're having the same kind of problem."

  "One step ahead of you." His smile was smug, or maybe it was just a trick of the shadows. "Payton did some checking before he left China. He knows Beijing and he's familiar with most of the players on that end."

  "I suppose there's no point in asking why he knows so much about them?" Harrison queried, idly turning his beer glass with his fingers.

  "None at all." Gabriel grimaced. "And believe me, I tried. But according to his intel, none of the Chinese involved have died from natural causes or otherwise."

  "So whatever is happening here, it's targeted at the American side of things." Madison took another sip of wine, her mind turning over all that they knew, trying to assemble pieces into a recognizable whole. "At least that limits the investigation."

  "But it still leaves us with a lot to prove. Although it goes a long way, three of six doesn't establish conspiracy." Gabriel's icy gaze encompassed them both.

  "Don't forget the computers." Harrison leaned back in his chair, still playing with his beer glass.

  "I take it you've finished your analysis?" Gabriel asked.

  "I still have a few more tests to run." Harrison shrugged. "But I've exhausted most of my options. I even checked Cullen's tracking system. Old bastard designed a hell of a program. But whoever did this wiped it clean, as well."

  "So you think they were after something of Cullen's?" Madison frowned.

  "It makes more sense than wanting something off of ours. All of the accord records are stored on his system. But it's still only an educated guess. One that I certainly can't prove. Once everything is back online, I'll finish the diagnostics. But I wouldn't hold my breath." Harrison sat back with a sigh. "Did Nigel find anything?"

  Gabriel shook his head. "Nothing conclusive. Some partial prints. Most of which are probably ours. Anything that we can't identify will be checked against Cullen's employee list. He's got prints on everyone in the building."

  "Nice of him." Harrison smiled. "And I suppose if we still have any unidentified we can run them through the computers at Langley and Quantico just to be certain."

  "Exactly, but my guess is they won't turn up anything significant."

  "Even if we don't identify the hacker," Madison said, "I'd still say the fact we had one, combined with the murders, is a pretty strong indication that we're on the right track."

  "It would seem that way, certainly. But until we verify that the other three deaths were also intentional, I'd prefer we maintain our skepticism." Gabriel finished the last of his whiskey.

  "Well, without an autopsy, how do you suggest we proceed?" Harrison asked. "They're all in different jurisdictions."

  "Divide and conquer." Gabriel smiled, and Madison was certain she wasn't going to like the rest of what he had to say. "Harrison, you can check out Macomb's death. The car wreck happened in Albany, so you should be able to request records from here and still finish your work on Cullen's computers. Payton and Nigel can head for Virginia. Dashal has family there. And we already have the police report."

  Madison's stomach churned. Alan Stewart had died in Colorado. In a remote mountain town.

  "And you and I—" Gabriel's gaze collided with hers, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth "—will head for the mountains."

  Madison looked to Harrison for support, but he only shrugged.

  Some best friend.


  There had to be a way out. Something she could say. But her brain stubbornly refused to provide an excuse, choosing instead a completely reprehensible route, and before she could stop them, the words tumbled out of her mouth.

  "What time do we leave?"

  *****

  CULLEN PULASKI SAT at his desk, staring at the computer screen. The list of files stared back at him, the cursor blinking, waiting for him to take action. He entered a series of keystrokes and a password, and the machine buzzed, then presented him with a list of documents. Opening one, he skimmed the pages, wondering if the intruder had made it this far.

  He'd set up safeguards. But nothing was impregnable. Whoever had broken into the computer system had obviously known what they were doing, and what they were after. Cullen entered more keystrokes and checked the hidden log. He hadn't shared its existence with Harrison. The man had found the decoy. And searched it. But of course there was nothing to find.

  Cullen had almost told him about the second one, wanting to share his genius with someone who could appreciate it. He'd designed the program himself. A way to track activity within his systems. An extra set of eyes watching his back.

  But in the end, caution had won out. He needed to look on his own. See what, if anything, was there. He scrolled down the screen, stopping when he reached the record of the day's activities.

  It took a moment to isolate, but it was there. An unauthorized entry. Someone had gained access to his files. Unfortunately there was no identifier. Just as Harrison had predicted, the pathway had been wiped clean. There was nothing left to tell him who it was.

  Nothing at all. Only the fact that someone had been there. Someone who desperately wanted to bring Cullen down. But Cullen couldn't let anything get in his way now. He was too close. Everything depended on these final moves, the death dance of opponents in a battle for survival.