T Wave
Page 21
The next several hours consisted of the pleasant task of planning their time abroad. As he huddled his head next to Mallory’s, sharing the itinerary and travel-company’s online brochure with her, Alton reflected on the joy of creating the plan for their shared experience.
He rose for a moment to stretch his back. “Being here with you and making all these plans—it’s almost as fun as going on the actual vacation.”
“I know what you mean,” she said, laughing. “But I’d still like to test that assertion with the trip itself.”
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22
CHAPTER 60
The alarm clock blared to life, and Alton quickly rolled over to silence it. He texted Mallory, “Are you up?”
“Yes,” she replied, “getting ready.”
The long-anticipated day had finally arrived. Within hours, Mallory would accompany Alton on the vacation he had planned over two months ago, before their recently-concluded investigations had even begun. The three-week tour of three Italian gems—Rome, Naples, and Florence—seemed a fitting celebration of the successful conclusion of their cases.
Having agreed to drop off Alton and Mallory at the airport, David and Fahima arrived at Mallory’s apartment around noon. After loading their luggage into the trunk, Alton and Mallory piled into their friends’ LeSabre. Mallory sat in the back with Fahima, sharing an overview of the itinerary, while Alton described to David the unearthed remains of the ancient Roman city of Pompeii, a location he planned to explore while in Naples.
David pulled up to the “Departures” section of the airport terminal and helped Alton unload the baggage. After bidding their friends farewell with a series of handshakes and hugs, David and Fahima climbed into their black sedan and pulled away, leaving Alton and Mallory to themselves.
Although the season had just changed to autumn, the day of their departure was marked by a brilliantly-lit afternoon, and for a moment, Mallory turned her face into the warmth of the sunshine.
As the couple stepped into the airport terminal, Alton could scarcely believe he had won the treasure of his dazzling companion’s love. He knew other men eyed him enviously, and he gloried in the knowledge. He could not have been prouder of Mallory, not simply for the exterior beauty others could see but also for the inner beauty fully known and appreciated by only a select few.
Mallory, for her part, couldn’t possibly have appeared happier. She teased Alton unmercifully on all manner of subjects, a behavior he knew to be a good omen of her high spirits. Yet she hung to Alton’s side and cast upon him glances of love and affection that most men would consider themselves lucky to experience once in a lifetime.
The happy couple checked their luggage and obtained their travel documents, then made their way to the departure gate. As they waited for the flight, Mallory used her phone to review the itinerary yet again. Her countenance radiated excitement.
After a seeming eternity, a chipper Delta agent announced the boarding of their flight. Alton and Mallory provided their boarding passes to the gate agent and, holding hands, made their way down the Jetway to the waiting plane.
Although they were both thrilled to be on the cusp of their vacation, Alton held a particular reason for anticipation. He carried concealed in his jacket a symbol of his eternal fidelity—a symbol he would soon bestow upon his beloved—and he carried in his mind a certainty that this vacation would be fondly and indelibly stamped in their memories. Their pending Italian journey, like their future lives, promised to be filled with adventures they would face and experience—together.
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havoc
CHAPTER 1
Brian McFarland took brisk strides through the Silicon Valley campus of Vidulum, Inc. After swiping his magnetic security card at the building’s main entrance and then again at the R&D section’s heavy door, he wound his way through a maze of cubicles and lab equipment to arrive at the office of Leo Burton, Vidulum’s CEO.
Burton, a lean, tall man showing the first signs of graying temples, rose to greet his company’s Chief of Security. “So, McFarland, what’s so important that we had to meet on a Saturday?”
“We’ve had a security breach.”
“How serious is it?”
“As bad as it gets. Someone copied the complete set of Silverstar files—design specs, production facility schematics, product capabilities—between twelve and twenty-four hours ago.”
Burton sank into his chair. Through white lips, he asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. When the archive job ran last night, the backup server kicked out an exception message, saying the day’s batch had already been archived. We didn’t copy it, which means someone else did.”
“Do we know the files were actually stolen? Couldn’t the exception message have been triggered by some tech accidentally running the backup job earlier in the day?”
“We asked the same question. No one ran it, and whoever did copy the files suppressed his user name.” McFarland cracked his knuckles, a habit he exhibited during times of stress.
“I didn’t think our systems allowed jobs to be run without a user ID,” said Burton.
“They’re not supposed to,” admitted the security chief, “but somehow this person figured out a way to get around that restriction.”
“What about our file segregation? Don’t we keep our key files on separate servers to make it impossible for someone to crack a single password and access all of the confidential information at once?”
“Yes, sir—we do. This thief was a smooth customer. He—or she—copied the files from all eight servers.”
“It’s an inside job. It has to be.”
“That was my conclusion too, sir.”
“Wait a minute—if this thief is so good, why didn’t he prevent the redundant backup message from being generated?” asked Burton. “We would’ve never known about the theft if not for that.”
“I’m the only person who can suppress that warning message. It’s one of the safeguards I put in place when I was first hired on.”
“I see. Thank God you set that up.” Burton paused to reflect. “So, we have a renegade employee in our midst—someone who’s out to make a quick buck at the expense of the very existence of our company.”
“Sir? The existence of our company?”
“We’re a one-trick pony, McFarland. Using the proprietary technology contained in those files to successfully launch the Silverstar project is a make-or-break proposition for Vidulum. We have no failsafe, no alternative strategy if some other company brings this technology to market before us.”
“So you think someone stole the files to resell them?”
“It has to be, don’t you think? Silverstar is miles ahead of everyone else. It could be worth hundreds of millions of dollars on the open market.”
“So just look for the employee that buys an island in a few months.”
“By then, it will be too late. We have to stop this person before they have a chance to sell the files. If they do, we’re all out of a job.” Burton began to pace the floor of his office. “Do you have any suspects?”
“Not off the top of my head. I’ll have my staff investigate—see if anyone was out sick yesterday or the day before, acting suspicious or angry towards the company, that kind of thing. We’ll have to act quietly, though. Our investigation must be discreet to avoid tipping off the thief that we’re on to him.”
“Good man.” Burton stared McFarland squarely in the eye. “You understand…while it’s important to move quietly, we must also act quickly. It’s not just our company’s existence that’s at stake. If Silverstar is sold to the wrong people, our nation could be at risk, too. You are to employ any measures necessary to reacquire the project files. Are you clear on this? Any…measures…necessary.”
“Crystal clear, sir.”
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CKWELL FILES” SERIES NOW!
Book 1: Nefarious
Book 2: Ruthless
Book 3: T Wave
Book 4: Havoc
Book 5: The Devil’s Due
Book 6: The Evolution of Evil
Book 7: Bloodline (Coming later in 2015. See below for notification when available.)
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author Steve Freeman is a former member of the US Army's Signal Corps, a twenty-seven year employee of a large American technology company, and an avid traveler who has visited five continents. The novels of The Blackwell Files draw from his firsthand knowledge of military service, the tech industry, and the diverse cultures of our world.
He currently lives near Atlanta, Georgia with his wife, daughter, and three dogs.
Visit www.SteveFreemanWriter.com for a complete list of his titles.