by Tom Clancy
Granger said, “Okay, but let’s keep it small. Ryan and Chavez can go to Hong Kong and meet with Yao. See what you can find out about FastByte Twenty-two and report in to us.”
Jack nodded, but Ding said, “Sam, I’m going to throw something out there, and I hope you’ll consider it.”
“Shoot.”
“Ryan and I are going to be out of our element when it comes to this hacking stuff. I mean, even conceptually. I don’t know what these servers look like, how many people it takes to run them, who does what, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Yeah. Me, either,” admitted Ryan.
Chavez said, “I suggest we take Biery with us.”
Granger almost spit his last sip of coffee out with that suggestion.
“Gavin? Out in the field?”
Chavez said, “I know, I don’t like thinking about it too much, but he’s one hundred percent reliable and has all the intel we need to sell our situation to the NOC working this. I think he can help us with our cover for status as well.”
“Explain.”
“We go to this company like we’re chasing a hacker, but only Gavin can represent the problem we face. Hey, I’ve got a master’s and Jack is a freaking genius, but if the guy on the ground starts questioning us too much we are going to show ourselves as out of our element. We’re going to look like a couple of knuckle draggers compared to the computer geeks.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, Ding. Request granted. I need you guys to keep him safe, though. He will be a babe in the woods if things get dicey.”
“Roger that. I will say that since the Agency is going to notify the U.S. Marshals, there’s a good chance that we don’t have a lot of time to act. If they go over there and arrest FastByte, and he enters the justice system, we may never know who he was working for.”
Chavez continued, “And he might have loose lips about our operation here in order to bargain for a reduction in sentence.”
Hendley said, “Why don’t you guys go over tonight?”
“Sounds good,” said Ryan.
Chavez did not respond.
“Ding?” asked Granger. “Something wrong?”
“Patsy is out of town this week, in Pittsburgh for some training till tomorrow. I’ve got JP in school and then an after-school program, but I have to pick him up at five.” He thought for a moment. “I can get a sitter. No problem.”
“What’s Biery going to say about going to Hong Kong with the operatives?” Caruso asked.
Jack stood up. “I guess the only way to know is to ask him. I’ll go talk to him and ask him to come to our afternoon meeting and we’ll get his take on the Iran angle and let him know he’s heading to Hong Kong.”
THIRTY-TWO
Todd Wicks was not sweating, and he felt like his pulse and blood pressure were low. In fact, he felt calmer than he had in years.
Three Valium saw to this.
He sat in his Lexus in the parking lot of Hendley Associates, giving the pills every last second available before his appointment so they could have plenty of time to do their work. He’d also applied three times the antiperspirant that he normally wore, and he’d forgone his normal quad latte at Starbucks this morning so that he wouldn’t have his normal midday jitters.
He’d even listened to a half-hour of cool jazz satellite radio on his drive from DC up to West Odenton, thinking that might put him in an extra-mellow frame of mind.
At eleven a.m. he determined himself to be as prepared as he was going to get, so he climbed out of his luxury car, popped the trunk, and pulled out a small plastic box that contained his delivery for Hendley Associates.
He knew very little about this company; he had nearly one hundred accounts, so it was impractical to dig too deeply into what each and every one of them sold or offered or serviced. Half of his clients were government-agency IT departments, and the other half were companies like Hendley that, as far as Todd Wicks knew, traded stocks or invested or something like that.
He knew Gavin Biery, and kind of liked the rumpled computer nerd, even if Gavin could be a bit of a curmudgeon.
And Biery didn’t fight him on his pricing. Hendley Associates was a good account, and Wicks hated to do anything that might hurt them, but he had resigned himself to the fact that it was necessary.
He knew a thing or two about industrial espionage; he read Wired magazine and he worked in an industry where fortunes were won and lost by the secrets that companies keep. The Chinese would have some sort of spy software hidden on the German-made drive, probably in the master boot record. He had no idea how they did it, or why they were so interested in Hendley Associates, but it was no great surprise to him. The Chinese were immoral bastards when it came to stealing industrial secrets, especially high-tech or financial secrets from Western companies.
Wicks was sickened that he was helping the Chinese, but he did have to admit to himself that he was getting off lightly.
It beat spying against the government.
He carried the shopping bag containing the drive and entered the front door of Hendley Associates right on time, stepped up to the reception desk, and told the security officers in blue blazers that he had an appointment with Gavin Biery.
He stood in the lobby while he waited, a little wobbly on his knees from the muscle relaxers, but he felt good.
He actually found himself more relaxed now than he had been the day before.
“What the hell, Wicks?”
Todd jerked back into reality, spun around, and found himself face-to-face with an angry-looking Gavin Biery. Behind him, the two security men stood at the reception desk.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Wha-what’s wrong?”
Biery said, “You know what’s wrong! You always bring doughnuts! Where are my damn doughnuts?”
Todd sighed all the air out of his lungs, but he felt sweat forming on the back of his neck under his suit. He forced a toothy smile. “It’s almost lunchtime, Gavin. Usually I’m here a lot earlier.”
Biery replied, “Where is it written that doughnuts are just for breakfast? I’ve enjoyed many a bear-claw lunch, and more than my share of apple fritters for dinner.”
Before Todd could think of a funny reply, Gavin said, “C’mon up to IT and let’s take a look at the new toy you brought me.”
—
Wicks and Biery stepped out of the elevator on the second floor and headed toward Biery’s office. Wicks would have loved to have dropped off the drive and then left immediately, but he always went up to IT to talk shop for a few minutes with Gavin and some of the other Hendley IT staff. He did not want today to appear any different than normal, so he agreed to the quick visit to the computer department.
They’d made it only a few yards when Todd saw a tall young man with dark hair heading toward them.
“Hey, Gav. I was looking for you.”
Biery said, “I leave my department for five minutes a week, and that’s when I get a visitor. Jack, this is Todd Wicks, one of our hardware vendors. Todd, this is Jack Ryan.”
Todd Wicks extended his hand, had already begun greeting the young man, when he realized he was face-to-face with the son of the President of the United States.
Instantly panic washed through his body, his knees locked, and his back stiffened.
“Nice to meet you,” Ryan said.
But Wicks was not listening. His mind was racing with the realization that he was doing a job for Chinese intelligence against the workplace of the son of a man who went to war with the Chinese in his first term, and was now back in the White House.
He stammered out a “Nice to meet you” before Biery told Ryan he would call him when he was free.
Jack Ryan, Jr., headed back to the elevator.
As Gavin and Todd continued up the hall, Todd Wicks put his hand
against the wall to steady himself.
“Crap, Wicks. You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” He recovered a little. “Just a little starstruck, I guess.”
Gavin just laughed.
They sat down in the office and Biery poured coffee for them both.
“You didn’t tell me the President’s son works with you.”
“Yeah. ’Bout four years or so. I don’t make a point of saying anything about it. He doesn’t like a lot of attention.”
“What does he do here?”
“Same stuff most all the other folks who aren’t in IT do.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
Biery said, “Financial management, currency trading. Jack’s a good egg. He’s got his dad’s brain.”
Wicks was not going to tell Biery he’d voted for Ed Kealty in the last election.
“Interesting.”
“You really are starstruck. Hell, you look like you just saw a ghost.”
“What? No. No. Just surprised. That’s all.”
Biery looked at him for another moment, and Todd did his best impersonation of someone who was calm, cool, and collected. He caught himself wishing he’d popped a fourth Valium before getting out of his car. He tried to think of a different line of small talk, but fortunately he did not have to.
Biery opened the plastic box containing the hard drive and said, “There she is.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
Gavin took the board out of its protective sheath and looked it over. “What was the deal with the delay?”
“Delay?” Wicks asked nervously.
Biery just cocked his head. “Yeah. We ordered this on the sixth. Usually you guys get off-the-shelf items to us in a week.”
Todd shrugged. “It was on back order. You know me, buddy, I get it to you as fast as I can.”
Biery just looked at the salesman. He smiled while he shut the box. “‘Buddy’? What, you trying to butter me up? Sell me a few mouse pads or something?”
“No. Just being friendly.”
“An ass-kissing is a poor substitute for a box of doughnuts.”
“I’ll remember that. I hope your system wasn’t inconvenienced by the back order.”
“No, but I will install the hard drive myself in the next day or two. We need the upgrade.”
“That’s great. Really great.”
Biery looked up, away from the component that Wicks knew could get him thrown in prison. He asked, “You feeling okay?”
“Fine. Why?”
Biery cocked his head. “You seem a little out of it. I can’t tell if you need a vacation or if you just got back from one.”
Todd smiled now. “Funny you say that. I’m taking the family down to Saint Simons Island for a few days.”
Gavin Biery suspected his vendor had started his vacation a little early in his head.
—
Biery finished his meeting with Todd Wicks, and within twenty minutes found himself sitting in the conference room off Gerry Hendley’s office. Where the other seven men in the room looked crisp and clean, Gavin looked like he’d climbed the stairwell up to the ninth floor on his hands and knees. His pants and shirt were wrinkled, except where his significant paunch pulled them tight, his hair was unkempt, and his baggy eyes made Ryan think of an old Saint Bernard.
Jack told Biery about the NSA’s discovery of the connection between Iran and the drone attacks, going into detail about how the pilfered data was exfiltrated to a command server at the Qom University of Technology.
Instantly Biery declared, “I’m not buying that for a minute.”
Rick Bell said, “You’re not? Why not?”
“Think about it. Whoever managed to break into the secure Air Force network and exfiltrate the data back out would most definitely hide the origin of the attack. There is no way in hell the Iranians would have put a line of code in the virus that sent data to a drop point in their own borders. They could put that server anywhere on the planet and then use other means to get the data there.”
“So you don’t think Iran had anything to do with this?”
“No. Somebody wants us to think they did.”
“But,” asked Ryan, “if it wasn’t the Iranians, who—”
“It was the Chinese. No doubt in my mind. They are the best, and something like this took the best.”
“Why the Chinese?” It was Caruso asking. “The Russians are good at cyberstuff, too. Why can’t this be them?”
Gavin explained: “Here is a good general rule of thumb for you guys to keep in mind when it comes to cybercrime and cyberespionage. The Eastern Europeans are damn good. The Russians, Ukrainians, Moldovans, Lithuanians, and so on. They have tons of great technical colleges, and they train computer programmers of high quality and in high numbers. And then, when these kids get out of school . . . there are no jobs over there. No jobs over there except in the underworld. Some get recruited in the West. As a matter of fact, Romanian is the second most spoken language at Microsoft’s headquarters. But still, that’s a small subset of the total number of the East and Central European talent pool. Most of the rest go into cybercrime. Stealing banking info and hacking into corporate accounts.
“In China, on the other hand, they have amazing technical universities, as good as or better than in the former East Bloc states. They also have special training in the military for young programmers. And then, when these young men and women get out of school or out of military vocational training . . . each and every one has a job. In one of many military information warfare battalions around China, or working for their Ministry of State Security’s cyberdirectorate. Or else they go to work for the state in telecom or something like that, but even these programmers are organized for offensive and defensive CNO, that’s computer network operations, because the government has cybermilitias that conscript the best and brightest minds into working for the state.”
Hendley strummed his fingers on his desk. “So, it sounds to me like the Chinese are more organized and ready to act against us.”
Gavin said, “Yes. A Russian hacker will steal your ATM card number and your pin. A Chinese hacker will blow out the electrical grid in your city and send your commercial aircraft into a mountainside.”
It was silent in the conference room for several moments.
Chavez asked, “But why would the Chinese do this? We aren’t operating drones against them in any number. This happened in Afghanistan and Africa and in the U.S.”
Biery thought about this for a moment. “I don’t know. The only thing that comes to mind is they want to distract us.”
“From what?” asked Ryan.
Gavin said, “From whatever it is that they are really doing.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just the computer guy. You guys are the spooks and the analysts.”
Sam Granger leaned forward on the desk. “Well, now. That is a good segue into the next order of business.”
Biery looked around. Quickly he noticed everyone smiling at him.
“What’s up, guys?”
Chavez said, “Gavin, we need you to get on a plane with us tonight.”
“A plane to where?”
“Hong Kong. We have located FastByte Twenty-two, and we need your help to go over there and learn a little more about him and who he’s working for.”
Gavin’s eyes widened.
“You found FastByte Twenty-two?”
“The CIA did, actually.”
“And you want me in the field? With the operators?”
Ryan said, “We think you could be a crucial part of this operation.”
“There is no question about that,” Gavin said with immodesty. “Do I get to carry a heater?”
Chavez cocked his head. “A what?”
; “A heater. You know. An iron. A piece.”
Ryan started laughing. “He means a gun.”
Chavez groaned. “No, Gavin. Sorry to disappoint you, but you don’t get a heater.”
Biery shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
—
John Clark sat on his porch, looking out over his back pasture at the blustery autumn afternoon. In his left hand he held a paperback book that he’d been trying to read for the last few days, and in his right hand he held a racquetball.
He closed his eyes slowly and concentrated on squeezing down. His three functional fingers exerted enough pressure to slightly deform the rubber ball, but his index finger just wiggled a little.
He threw the ball into the backyard and returned his focus to the paperback.
His mobile rang, and he found himself happy for a temporary diversion from his boring afternoon, even if it was probably some telemarketer.
He read the name on the phone and his mood perked up instantly. “Hey, Ding.”
“Hey, John.”
“How’s it going?”
“Good. We got a lead on the Istanbul Drive.”
“Excellent.”
“Yeah, but still a lot of work ahead. You know how it is.”
Clark knew how it was. He felt incredibly out of the loop at the moment. “Yeah. Anything I can do to help?”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Anything, Ding,” Clark reiterated.
“John, this sucks, but I’m in a bind.”
“Say the word.”
“It’s JP. Patsy is in Pittsburgh till tomorrow and I’m heading up to BWI on my way to Hong Kong.”
A babysitter, Clark said to himself. Ding was calling him because he needed a babysitter. John recovered quickly and said, “I’ll pick him up from school. He’ll stay with us until Patsy gets back tomorrow.”
“I really appreciate it. We’ve got a lead but there is no time—”
“Not a problem at all. Found a new fishing hole that I’ve been wanting JP to check out with me.”
“That’s great, John.”
“You guys watch your backs in HK, you hear me?”
