Jack Del Rio: Complete Trilogy: Reservations, Betrayals, Endgames

by Richard Paolinelli

  Georgina, on the other hand, is far too emotionally connected to the conspiracy for her own good. Her usefulness to her two co-conspirators would end once she used her political clout to get their puppet embedded in the White House. She would, he decided on the spot, make the perfect scapegoat to hang certain criminal activities on should it become necessary to further our goals. I am certain Charles would agree.

  The more Cavanaugh thought about it, the fewer hours after the inauguration concluded he expected Soors would live to see.

  ***

  The first hint of the dawn peered over the horizon just as Jack slipped quickly and quietly back into his apartment by way of the back stairwell.

  As soon as he’d reached the safety of the shore, he had pushed the tough-but-light little boat up against a convenient sandbar and, using a silencer, shot enough holes into it to fully deflate it. Rolling it up into a bundle as best as he could, he kicked enough sand from the top of the bar to bury the remains of the little craft. He had no doubt that it would be discovered by someone in a few days, but that would be long enough to prevent anyone from finding out that the Los Angeles had been anywhere near the area; until it was too late to matter any longer.

  The drive home was nearly as quick as the drive out had been, with very little traffic out and about just yet, and he was relieved to find Sara was still sound asleep when he had returned. Not wanting to wake her, and too keyed up to attempt to get anymore sleep, he silently made his way to his desk and plugged in the back-up thumb drive, one Cashman had made for him from the original thumb drive before he left the sub, into his computer. While the files downloaded Jack made his way into the kitchen area to make some coffee. He knew he was going to need it and then some.

  Just as he made his way back to his desk and sat down with a fresh mug of steaming coffee in his hand, Sara walked up from behind and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Everything okay?” she asked sleepily, not quite stifling a yawn. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called away in the early hours by work, so she didn’t ask for details, and he didn’t have to lie to her about where he’d been. “You’re back pretty quick.”

  “Just some unexpected business that needed to be dealt with,” Jack replied, hating himself for the lie of omission, even though it really was for her own protection. “I’m going to be going back in soon, so you might as well go back to bed and get some sleep for both of us.”

  Sara walked around and sat in his lap and kissed him.

  “Hmmm,” she said without pulling away. “You're being very mysterious this morning, Jack. Maybe I should drag you back to bed and make you talk.”

  “What a tempting offer.”

  “But knowing you, it wouldn't work. This has to do with your job I take it?” she waited for him to nod affirmatively before continuing. “Well, I have some packing to do, so you're off the hook at least for now.”

  Sara treated Jack with another kiss before getting up and reaching for the flight itinerary she’d left on the desk, not even noticing the downloading files on the computer screen. She placed one copy back in her purse and placed the other in the letter holder on the shelf above the monitor on Jack’s desk.

  “And you had better get everything you need to do done in time to make this flight, mister,” she added.

  “Yes, ma'am,” Jack replied with a smile that faded as soon as Sara turned back toward the bed. He returned his attention to the files now fully downloaded onto his computer. “I sure as hell hope I do.”

  The problem Jack faced was that he simply couldn’t just log in on the Bureau’s servers and start searching away with abandon. So many red flags would immediately be raised for anyone watching out for such a search that he doubted he would be alive to have lunch much less see the sun set at the end of the day.

  But, fortunately for him, he had spent a few too many days with a certain childhood friend who had been quite the wizard at hacking computers. Some of the tips and tricks he’d picked up back then had proved to be very useful to him as a law enforcement officer through the years, and he would need every one of them now.

  The first order of business was to set up a fake back trail, so that when he cracked into a watched system, and someone noticed his unauthorized presence and tried to trace the intruder’s origin, they would wind up following a fake trail to a destination far away from his. They would eventually find the true origin point, but if he set it up correctly it would take nearly a week for them to do so, and by then it wouldn’t matter anymore one way or the other.

  Once the false path had been laid down, sending any tracer off to a dozen countries, across four continents, before ending up in a small coffee shop in Salzburg, Germany, Jack decided to use the access codes Karpov had provided to first worm his way into the intelligence agencies in Russia.

  Karpov had claimed to have provided them everything available regarding the matter at hand, but Jack saw no harm in double checking. “Trust, but verify” seemed to be the catch phrase to keep in mind at all times whenever America and Russia were involved. Karpov’s drive had not provided any information on his own father aside from his original involvement in the project initiated by Stalin. Within a half hour, Jack had opened up the full file on the elder Karpov which led to a classified file on the project that would not open no matter what command or computer trick Jack tried on it.

  What troubled him most, aside from the fact that he had just blatantly committed espionage without so much as a moment’s hesitation, was a log that he uncovered that showed who had been able to fully open this very same file all along: Vladimir Karpov.

  The old Russian had not been nearly as forthcoming with his friend as Cashman had thought. Which had Jack wondering what was in that file that Karpov found the need to keep so secret despite the dire circumstances. The original names and the American identities they were to assume once in place had to be in that file; those names would have been valuable to have. Karpov had to have known this and still he had withheld it. Jack did not for a minute believe it was as innocently explained as a mere oversight either.

  Having gleaned all that he could from the Russian computers, and surprised that his wandering through their systems hadn’t been detected, he cut loose the web of connections overseas. Even if the breach was discovered later, hopes of tracing it back to its source died once Jack severed the electronic pathways.

  Jack began building a new pathway, one that would let him start working his way into the computers in the CIA and the FBI. Those firewalls would both be easier and much more difficult to get into without attracting too much attention. Easier because of the familiarity he had with those systems and harder because the security on them was a level or two higher than the Russian systems apparently had in place.

  Without a hard starting point to begin with he was flying blind once he broke through the firewalls. Jack tried several different searches based on some of the code words Karpov had provided from the Russian project. When those failed to produce any leads, a result that he had actually expected even before he’d started, he looked for other clues. These people were too deeply embedded not to have some presence in a server somewhere.

  But no matter what search term he tried, nothing came from the results that proved useful. There was one last search that he wanted to give a go, but before he ran it, he opened a special security program that very few people on this side of the Atlantic knew actually existed.

  He had picked this one up during his time in London from an MI-5 agent in the cyber unit. The man had handed him the program, on a drive remarkably similar to the one Karpov had given to Cashman, with a wink and a stern admonishment not to tell anyone what was on it or where he had gotten it from, if it was discovered in his possession.

  This program would tell him if anyone had begun tracing him and was getting too close for comfort. He hadn’t run it earlier due to one of the drawbacks: the program itself tended to increase the chances of a hacker being detected in the first place.
>
  With nothing really left to lose, Jack quickly entered in the names Arthur and Cashman along with the names of the Directors of the CIA and FBI and the Joint Chiefs to see if anything would surface beyond the obvious.

  The hits that appeared were normal results that general information searches would produce for each person he had entered and their respective offices. But no sooner had those results appeared than the security program flared to life.

  He was being traced, and it had begun a hell of a lot faster than it should have under normal circumstances, a fact that concerned Jack quite a lot. With one eye on the results list and the other reserved for the security bar as it tracked the progress of the trace, Jack looked for any hint of a clue as the seconds ticked away to the tracer finding him right here in his own apartment.

  He waited as long as he dared, hoping to see just one shred of useful information, before shutting down the connection and physically disconnecting the internet cable from his computer to be safe. The results screen remained, but there simply was nothing of use to be found there. The security program showed he’d cut it close. Another three seconds and the trace would have been complete.

  Whoever had been on the other end of the trace had blown right through his false trail and had headed straight for him. At best, they’d know someone on the eastern seaboard of the United States had run the search. They wouldn’t know why of course, but for the speed of the reaction to his hack someone had apparently set some impressive tripwires in case of any potential search for any combination of certain people.

  But Jack hadn’t had time to experiment with different combinations to see exactly which names warranted such an unusual response. All he’d done is confirmed that someone very high up in the federal government had something to hide, and was willing to go to great lengths to protect the secret.

  He wouldn’t dare use this computer to crack in again. He’d need to set up shop elsewhere if he felt it necessary to make another attempt. With that, and knowing he was due for the briefing on the preparations for the inauguration inside of an hour, Jack shut the computer completely down and headed for the shower in a very dark mood.

  Cashman had spoken of playing chess. Jack had just made his opening move and had gained nothing from it, while alerting the people he was hunting that someone might very well be on their trail.

  SEVEN

  Cavanaugh flashed his CIA credentials without so much as a look at the security guard and was swiftly waived through the security gate at the Hoover Building. Collins quickly spotted the new arrival and waived him over to join an ongoing conversation with Director Doyle.

  “Well,” Cavanaugh said as soon as he joined the other two men, “we have quite the alphabet soup menagerie gathered here this morning.”

  It was true. Representatives from several federal, state, and local agencies, along with their respective acronyms, were gathering for the morning’s briefing and were filling the large briefing room the FBI was providing for the function. Many more would look in from offices scattered across the world via the live feed that had been set up.

  “Yes,” Doyle replied. “And it’s getting to be more and more muddled all the time.”

  “Don’t mind Jeremy,” Collins said at Cavanaugh’s puzzled expression. “He’s still a little sore that one of my kids is a little better at security arrangements than he’d care to admit.”

  “I’ve told you Baker,” Doyle said with some exasperation, “that I admit your Golden Boy, Del Rio, knows what he’s doing, and he’s damn good at it. I just think he could be a little bit less of an arrogant ass about it.”

  “Del Rio?” Cavanaugh asked, forcing himself to be casual about it. “Ah yes, one of your kids, Baker. He’s made quite a name for himself in London not long ago and also that recent business out west.”

  “He’s a good man, a good agent,” Collins replied. “Maybe I can lend him out to you to put to use sometime?”

  “Perhaps,” Cavanaugh replied coolly, wondering if Collins was trying to be funny. Del Rio anywhere near his affairs was the last thing Cavanaugh wanted and Collins should very well know that.

  “Well, let’s see just how good your boy is, Baker,” Cavanaugh said as he saw Del Rio enter the building.

  For his part, Jack failed to take notice of the three men. His thoughts were in such turmoil that he was surprised everyone in the room could not clearly read the distress on his face. He barely acknowledged the greeting of the security agent, an old friend from his Academy days, as he quickly made his way through the gate.

  When he entered the briefing room, he pulled up short and looked over the entire room as an unsettling thought struck him: One or more of the people gathered right here in this very room could be the enemy and I’d never know it.

  As he stood there, frozen in place, feeling like a man in a foreign land, searching each and every face, the words he and Cashman had exchanged on the Los Angeles rang through his mind:

  One of the most terrible threats to our country....

  Whoever these people are...

  Nor do we know who's running the show over here....

  They tried to kill me...

  What can we do? What can we do?....

  He was jolted out of his reverie by Collins clapping him on the shoulder with a warm greeting.

  “Rock!” he exclaimed. “How are you this morning? Ready for your big moment?”

  Jack had jumped slightly but had quickly gathered himself. He started to tell Collins everything that had happened since they’d last spoken, needing the comfort of knowing he was not all alone in this, but he was stopped by two thoughts. The first was that this was too public a forum for such a discussion. The second, which hurt him deeply, was the thought that he had to proceed as if anyone could be involved and that included the man he considered a friend, a mentor, and a father figure.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be, boss,” he replied, mustering up a miserable excuse of a confident smile.

  “Good, I think Jeremy here still needs a little convincing. You might have to drag back out that paint ball gun of yours again if you aren’t careful.”

  Doyle, who’d been standing behind Collins, merely favored the two with a dour look and walked on to his seat while Collins chuckled softly.

  “Jack,” Collins said after Doyle had drifted out of earshot, “this is CIA Director Bradley Cavanaugh. Director, Jack Del Rio, one of my best agents.”

  Cavanaugh extended his hand and shook Jack’s as briefly as politeness allowed.

  “Agent Del Rio,” Cavanaugh said levelly, “I’ve heard quite a lot about your exploits at home and abroad.”

  “I’ve managed to keep busy, sir.”

  “Indeed,” Cavanaugh said dryly. “I understand your brother is a submarine commander in the Navy?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “I was in the Navy before joining the agency. The Secretary of the Navy and I play golf once a week. Perhaps you and your brother can join us for lunch sometime?”

  “I’ll ask him when he gets back. We had dinner a week ago before he took his boat out. I’m not sure when they’ll be back in port though.”

  “Well, just call my secretary and she’ll set it up.”

  “I’ll do that, sir, thank you,” Jack replied as Cavanaugh turned away to take his seat. He was uncertain as to why he’d drawn a lunch date with a man he’d just met, old Naval connections notwithstanding. Collins noted the look on Jack’s face and chuckled again.

  “He probably wants to recruit you to his agency,” Collins said. “Just so you know, I’m not going to let him poach one of my kids without a fight. So, are you ready?”

  “Sure am,” Jack said, still a little ill at ease. “Look, I’ve been over the Secret Service’s security arrangements with a fine tooth comb—”

  “Good!” Collins exclaimed. “I've been looking forward to seeing Jeremy's face when you poke a bunch of holes in his plans. You know, ever since he took over there he's been walking around like the t
op rooster in a hen house. It'll be nice to see you knock him down a peg.”

  “Boss,” Jack said gently, “Director Doyle has very good reason to be like that. He's the best at what he does. I have to admit, he's come up with a very good plan.”

  “What are you telling me, Rock?”

  “I'm saying he has a solid security net in place…” Jack replied sternly before breaking out a very slight smile. “…with a couple of holes here and there that I just happened to notice.”

  Collins stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, then threw back his head and roared in laughter. For just a second, his mentor’s laugh and calling him by his nickname, “Rock,” chased away the doom and gloom that had hovered over him since he’d left the Los Angeles that morning.

  “That’s my boy, Rock,” Collins said with another clap to the shoulder. “I knew you would come through. Let's go to work.”

  As they headed for the front of the room, Jack remembered a question he’d meant to ask the day before. “By the way, how was your vacation? You went back to see your family in Alabama didn’t you?”

  Collins’ jovial mood vanished in an instant, and the flash of anger that swept across the older man’s face was such that Jack actually took a step away.

  “I'm sorry if I brought up something I shouldn't have.”

  “No, it’s nothing really, Rock,” Collins said, regaining his composure and his good mood, but it seemed a touch forced to Jack. “It was a nice trip for the most part. I just had a run-in with a few rednecks down there that haven't discovered segregation died out a few decades ago.”

  “Are you okay,” Jack asked, his problems forgotten for now.

  “Everything is just fine,” Collins said with a slightly more genuine smile. “Forget about it. Come on, let’s go ruin Jeremy’s day.”