Kill Switch

by William Hertling

  That left her with only one viable option, a path she never intended nor wanted. She could release Angie’s Tape code with modifications to place it under the control of the chat personalities, leading to a worldwide manipulation of essentially everyone, perpetuating what amounted to a crime against humanity for the sake of letting people own their own data and have and control their own privacy. It was a terrible choice, but were the benefits worth it?

  The thing was, they’d been operating under the old system for years. Things kept getting worse. From stories Angie used to tell, back when the Internet and the web were getting started, everything was created, owned, and managed by people. Regular individuals. None of this corporate owned shit. Commercial activity had been highly frowned upon. Now it was barely possible to find anything that wasn’t moderated, controlled, and templated by the corporate world.

  She had to release T2 and she had to ensure it would succeed. If the government hadn’t forced her hand with their lies, she might have been able to do so without resorting to this extra step. That she was being forced to undo their manipulation was their fault, not hers. She was only doing what was necessary.

  Damn it. Did it really all come down to this? It did. Otherwise, everything else, including Angie’s death was for nothing.

  She put her hands on the keyboard and raced to restore Angie’s code along with the modifications to tie it into the chat personalities.

  Chapter 54

  Forrest assembled her team in the parking lot behind Tapestry Headquarters. She had six principal investigators and eight techs loaded down with forensic gear.

  She stood in front of the group to address them, more than a little guilt rumbling inside her. They deserved better than to be lied to. “We need a list of options, possibilities that could indicate where the T2 team is, how they’re communicating, what other objectives or weaknesses they might have. We’ve dug deep online, and the rest of the team is chasing down every one of those leads. Now we need to see what we can find here in their offices that, for whatever reason, wasn’t visible online. Who were these people? Who did they associate with? What hobbies, interests, or activities unique to the workplace did they engage in? We’ve got an hour. Let’s go.”

  Most of the team stood with the appearance of disinterest. At least that’s how it would look to the casual observer. And in truth, they’d heard her speeches a thousand times before, knew what they here were for. But what appeared to be almost boredom was professional detachment; an ability to stay calm, avoid triggering the lizard brain, even in situations of high stakes. Her team was well aware of the time crunch and the immense pressure from above to turn up something actionable.

  When she finished talking, everyone picked up their gear and headed toward the building. Ben, dressed in an FBI jacket and cap, and loaded down with 3D imaging gear, followed close beside her.

  The parking lot doors, like all the other entrances, were patrolled by national guardsmen.

  “Special Agent in Charge Forrest,” she said, holding out her badge.

  They filed in as a group, then splintered off to different areas, following subdivisions of responsibility they’d staked out earlier. Forrest consulted a map, headed for the small onsite data center. Ben trailed behind her.

  On the fourth floor, they approached the data center. Even from down the hallway, FBI Do Not Enter tape covering the doorway was visible. As Forrest drew closer, an agent she vaguely recognized from Cyber Crimes division approached, meeting them at the door.

  “Forrest,” he said, in greeting. “How are you?”

  She discreetly read his name tag. “Good, thanks, Brin.” She nodded toward the door. “We need to head in.”

  Brin looked back toward the door. “We’re keeping it under lockdown until forensics is done.”

  “They in there now?”

  He nodded.

  “We can join them. I’ve got an hour deadline from Enso to produce something.”

  Brin was visibly conflicted, his eyes darting back and forth. It was logical he’d have a hard time saying no to her, both because she was a superior, and because Forrest’s reputation preceded her. She guessed he’d been given direct orders to keep everyone out.

  “Look, you’ll feel better if you run it up the chain. We can wait a minute.”

  Brin immediately relaxed. “Thanks for understanding.”

  He spoke into the mic at his throat. The response took a good minute.

  Forrest tried to avoid staring at Ben, but she couldn’t help noticing his tight jaw and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. She drew herself up, making herself as imposing as possible. Better to keep Brin’s focus on her.

  Brin spoke again into his mic, then nodded to Forrest. “You can go in.”

  She bent to duck down under the tape and pushed the door open, then held it for Ben to follow her.

  They entered a long, skinny room. Where once an onsite data center might have consumed an entire floor, technology had progressed, and a modern building like Tapestry held only the vestiges of such a room. Rack-mounted machines occupied either side of a central hallway, maybe twenty feet in length, and most of those would be communication hardware rather than servers.

  Ben nodded toward the far side of the room.

  They walked the length of the room and stood in front of the burnished steel vault door that held Tapestry’s private keys used to sign their root certificates. With these keys, Igloo and her team would be able to fabricate a new set of certificates that would allow them to pass off the T2 update as authorized by Tapestry.

  “Don’t bother,” called a voice from behind them.

  Forrest looked back. “Ugland.” One of the bureau’s top counter-terrorism data gurus.

  Ugland pointed two of his lackeys to a rack. “That’s got a secured log. Crack it and let me know what you find.”

  Ugland walked up to Forrest. “We’ve already been in the vault. There’s nothing of value to the investigation in there. Their root signing keys, but that’s about it.”

  “I’d like to take a look myself,” Forrest said. She wished she could simply order Ugland out of the room, but he’d be on the phone to Enso in a split second. There was no plausible reason she could give to explain why she wanted the room cleared.

  Ugland frowned. “Literally, there’s nothing in there. Besides, we needed two sets of authentication codes to get in. Enso has them now. You’d need to get him to come in and enter them to get in. Not worth it.” Ugland gestured over toward one of the racks. “Look, I’ve got work to do.”

  Ugland sat down at one of the few work areas, pulled out a laptop, and plugged into the backplane of one of the racks.

  Forrest contemplated this turn of events, unsure of how to proceed with Ugland in the room.

  Ben leaned over and spoke in a whisper. “I just need to enter the bypass code. I can get in and out in five minutes.”

  That might be true, but they weren’t going to get five minutes with Ugland and his folks in here. Forrest glanced at her watch. Igloo was waiting on those keys.

  Chapter 55

  Enso watched as the video feeds of the other participants blanked out, one by one, until only Griz was left.

  “You gotta problem, Enso.” Griz opened his desk drawer and pulled out a half a cigar. He put the end in his mouth and seemed to relish the experience.

  Enso didn’t say anything. He knew something that most didn’t: the old man didn’t dare light the cigar. Doctor wouldn’t let him. Griz was mostly held together by grit and inertia at this point. He’d seen how Griz only pulled out the cigar during periods of high stress.

  “Inspector general has taken notice of operations.”

  “Who clued her in?”

  “Who clued—” Griz broke off in a laugh. “Son, you’ve got FBI, NSA, and military assets from all five branches on your little boondoggle. For an agency that doesn’t even fucking exist, you’re running the most visible operation in the world right now. You think labeling this
a ‘training exercise’ is going to sweep it under the rug?”

  Griz shook his head slowly. “I covered for you. You know why?”

  Now it was Enso’s turn to shake his head.

  “Because my ass is already on the line. I spoke up for you. Got you those pretty planes you’ve got circling up there. Five fucking signals intelligence planes. Backed up your request to the NSA. Got you the whole stinking Utah site. Got the National Guard and Coast Guard involved. Because when I give you my word, I don’t skimp on that, goddamnit. I said I’d back you up for forty-eight hours, and by golly, I’m doing that.”

  “Sir, we are doing our best,” Enso said. “I’ve got Forrest in the building now, leading an investigation to track down any clues. I’ve got the NSA crunching every last packet of data crossing the Internet. They are an evasive and tenacious group, but we know they’re still on U.S. soil, and we will find them. It’s just a matter of time.”

  Griz jabbed at the desk in front of him. “Time is the one thing we don’t have. Get me some fucking answers ASAP. Clean this mess up. Because this whole thing is going to get shut down in a matter of hours.”

  This wasn’t a time to argue. Better to placate the old man. “Copy that. Thank you, Sir.”

  Five planes?

  He stood and bumped his elbow on the wall behind him. He maneuvered his way out of the cramped private communications closet and reentered the main suite of the mobile command center.

  “How many planes do we have up?” he asked one of the coordinators.

  “Five, sir,” the coordinator said.

  “I thought we only had the three Air Force assets.”

  “Plus the two Coast Guard planes Special Agent Forrest got them to loan us.”

  Enso’s second in command, Alice, came over. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I just didn’t realize we had five planes.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  Enso stared at his second in command. Had the woman just had her brains sucked out? “It gives us nearly twice the coverage. How would that be a problem?”

  Alice shrugged.

  “Is Forrest still in HQ?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get her for me now. Radio, phone, whatever. I want to talk to her. We need some kind of clue as to where the T2 team is.”

  Chapter 56

  Forrest glanced between Ben and the other FBI agents. Ugland’s people wouldn’t give a shit about Ben, but Ugland himself probably would.

  “Wait a minute, then get the keys. Don’t worry about those two.”

  Ben nodded.

  Forrest clapped him on the shoulder and went over to Ugland.

  “You got a minute to talk privately?”

  Ugland’s hand poised over the keyboard. “I’m in the middle of something. Can it wait?”

  Forrest suppressed a sigh. Ugland was a prima donna. Obviously Forrest wouldn’t interrupt him unless she had something important to discuss.

  “If we could talk now, that would be good.”

  Ugland took a deep breath, put his hand back in his lap, and pivoted his chair to look at Forrest. “Go ahead.”

  “I want to talk privately.” She looked meaningfully at Ugland’s other people, then leaned in close. “About Enso’s behavior.”

  Ugland shook his head. “No. Not going to get involved with gossip. I just do my job.” He turned back to his computer.

  “This is serious. This isn’t your first time on this ride. How many BRI operations have you been a part of? You ever see BRI pull in this many assets?”

  Ugland opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. “What’s your point?”

  She gestured with her eyes toward the door.

  “Fine.” Ugland stood, and they walked outside the data center together.

  She continued out of earshot of the agent guarding the data center door.

  “Something fishy is going on.”

  Ugland threw up his hands. “Something fishy is always going on. It’s BRI. Fishy is what they do.”

  “FBI. National Guard. Military vehicles. Air Force. Every BRI operation I’ve ever been pulled into has been two or three, maybe a half dozen people across different organizations.”

  Ugland paused. Then he leaned in. “Utah is single-tasked on this. Everyone is trying to crack where these people are. They’re hopping around. The latest theory is that they’re either on a plane or they’re bouncing signals off a satellite. Whoever they are, they’re major league. I don’t believe this Tapestry stuff. Don’t know if it’s a cover story or what. But there’s a demon in the system. That part is for real.”

  “So why is BRI in charge? Shouldn’t this be kicked up to Cyber Command?”

  Ugland pointed to himself. “Cyber Command is here. What do you want?”

  “I want to know why Enso is running things, and not General Blalock.”

  “Hey, Forrest.”

  She looked up, saw the agent manning the door calling her as she approached. “I’ve got Enso on the line. He wants to talk to you.” He held out a phone.

  “Not right now,” she said.

  He held the phone against his chest and raised his eyebrows. “He doesn’t sound happy.”

  “Gimme a second, Ugland. Don’t go anywhere.” She turned to the agent and took the phone. “Forrest here.”

  “I need an update,” Enso said. “I’ve got everyone breathing down my neck. What do you have for me?”

  “Sir, my team is all spread out. I need to talk to everyone.”

  Ugland shook his head, and walked away, back toward the data center.

  Shit. “Enso, I gotta go. Can I call you back?”

  “No, dammit. Our time is limited. Give me something I can use now.”

  Ugland disappeared back into the data center. Fuck.

  “I don’t have anything now. I need to check in with my team. That’s why I need to go. I will call you back in ten minutes.”

  “Make it five.”

  “Fine, five minutes.”

  Jesus Christ. She trotted back toward the data center, but the door was locked again. She gestured to the agent, who slowly entered the code.

  She wanted to punch him, make him move faster, but anything she did would only slow him down.

  Finally, he was done, the door lock clicked, and she yanked it open.

  Ugland had Ben up against the wall, one arm against his throat.

  “What were you copying?”

  Ben’s eyes were wide. He looked toward Forrest.

  She couldn’t lose control of the situation. Forrest felt herself going for her gun. Oh. Was it all going to come down to this?

  Ugland looked toward Forrest, and his eyes glanced down to her hand moving toward her gun. Ugland spun away from Ben.

  Forrest drew her weapon and fired twice, clipping Ugland in the shoulder. He disappeared behind a rack of equipment.

  The other techs in the room dove out of their chairs.

  Ben cowered against the wall.

  From out of sight two shots were fired, and Ben bounced against the wall.

  Fuck. Forrest ran forward, her pistol firm in a two-handed grip, and turned the corner.

  Ugland was on the floor on his back, gun out.

  Forrest fired three more times, direct hits to the midsection.

  Ugland lay still.

  The two techs were staring at her from the corner.

  She tried to think over the adrenaline coursing through her system. How should she handle them? Leave them alive? Come up with some excuse for what she’d done? Or kill them and buy herself some time? No, there was still the agent outside who would have heard everything.

  The door.

  She glanced back in time to see the door being yanked open, the agent’s gun out.

  She pulled her weapon back up and fired three shots, taking him in the arm twice and neck once. He dropped to the floor before he got a shot off.

  She ejected her clip and loaded a new one from her waist holster in one move. Her
pulse pounded in her head. She scanned the room, pistol ready.

  The techs cowered in the corner. She gestured toward the door, and they hesitated for a moment, then ran.

  No threats left.

  “Ben, you okay?”

  Ben didn’t answer.

  Forrest crouched down and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Ben was dead.

  Did he get the root certificates? Did he transmit them? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  A hint of shiny black on the floor attracted her attention. There was a memory card a few feet away. Had Ugland knocked it out of Ben’s hands?

  She glanced around at the roomful of computer equipment. She had no idea if anything here had an outside connection. Probably not.

  She pawed through Ben’s bag. He had a laptop. Two phones. That jogged her memory. Doug had given him burner phones to use for data comm. She’d overheard Igloo, Ben, and Doug discussing how to exchange the data using an FTP drop box.

  She grabbed the bag and memory card and ran out of the data center. She searched for somewhere to hide that would buy her a few minutes. She came to a conference room and ducked down on the far side of the conference table, where she was invisible from the door.

  She pawed through the bag, extracting what she needed. She plugged the phone into the computer, slipped the card into a slot, and booted the machine. Luckily, it was one of her unit’s laptops, and it was still running a stock image.

  She logged in with her credentials, opened up the file listing for the card, then realized she had no idea where to transmit the files. What server? What login credentials?

  She pulled out her own phone, connected to the secure comm channel she used for Doug.

  “Ben down. Need FTP login creds.”

  She heard shouting in the hallways. Heading into the conference room would have bought her a few minutes. Although maybe they’d triangulate on her radio transmissions now.

  Waiting felt like an eternity, although she knew only seconds passed. The reply with credentials came a half a minute later, followed by a second message.