by Joe Nobody
Doubt and suspicion were causing ripple effects. Before all of this began, Marshal Storm would have never considered approaching the barn without backup. Five dead bodies and a heap of evidence laid crumpled on the structure’s dirt floor, yet he still hadn’t notified any local department. Removing the weapons from the scene was close to obstruction. The accountant’s laptop would surely be interesting to the DEA, FBI, and a host of sister agencies.
Still, Griffin felt justified in his actions. They had saved Mr. Mahajan, and they were now chasing down the only meaningful clue they’d identified to date. Someone had to stop this madness, and the marshal felt the situation called for “by any means necessary.”
“We’re in serious trouble,” he whispered to the empty car. “I’m with the newscaster. Now, I’m scared.”
The pesky federal prosecutor and her sidekick marshal were now seriously pissing off Sebastian. Tracking Kit Carson’s cell phone location, he finally realized the two feds had managed to find Ven Mahajan and the group of mafia enforcers. Given Ms. Carson’s mobile device was still on the move, he could only assume the organized criminals had failed to eliminate his two headaches from El Paso.
“What has happened to competence?” he grumbled, studying his monitors closely. “Isn’t there anyone in all of America able to take a life?”
He had no way to know if Mahajan had survived. The software guru’s cell phone hadn’t moved since arriving at the barn. While the marshal and the federal prosecutor appeared to be navigating their way to Cyber Ace’s offices, they might be simply following up after discovering the murdered executive. Sebastian would have to monitor the situation closely.
In real time, he watched Ms. Carson’s cell phone enter the parking lot. Punching two buttons on his keyboard, the live internet feed from Cyber Ace’s exterior cameras popped up on his screen.
A moment later, he inhaled sharply. Ven Mahajan was still alive, his unmistakable face peering up at the security device as he unlocked the front door.
“Damn it!” Sebastian barked. The Komitet wasn’t going to be happy with his failure to eradicate this threat.
For the second time in last 24 hours, Sebastian chanced contacting his master. He required a mere few minutes to compose the succinct message.
“The target eluded our best efforts,” the encrypted correspondence began. “Federal officials close to penetrating. Awaiting your instructions.”
The response arrived less than three minutes later, a terse message of only four words. “Your employment is terminated.”
Sebastian had no sooner scanned the email than all the computer monitors in his complex went dark.
His first reaction was to become indignant. “You ask me to do the impossible, and you then react like a spoiled child when there are setbacks. How typical of America’s technical elite. How predictable.”
Rising from his chair, Sebastian pondered his next move. He had planned to become a man of leisure at the completion of this project. Perhaps it was time for him to take early retirement instead.
He had prepared well for his final years. A well-appointed Swiss chalet waited for him, originally built in a remote Alpine valley by one of Henrich Himmler’s senior officers. It was secluded, boasted breathtaking views, and was easily secured. He would spend the summer months there, residing under a meticulously crafted alias.
Favoring moderate climates, Sebastian had procured several warm-weather properties where he could be comfortable during the wintertime. It wasn’t as if he were going to have to launch a new career… bagging groceries in his golden years. He would have to move some money, notify a few business associates of his retirement, and have his Panamanian law firm execute a handful of transactions. In a way, he welcomed the idea. He had earned some time off.
Yet, he couldn’t get Gravity Well out of his mind. While he didn’t understand all the nuts and bolts of the system, one thing was absolutely certain in Sebastian’s mind. As a mercenary, he had been privy to a plethora of artillery and ammunition… firepower of all conceivable design and purpose. However, the Komitet’s marionette was the most powerful weapon that had ever been wielded.
Anger swelled inside him, the idea that such a potent entity would be controlled by a geek tycoon who had never fired a rifle, let alone survived the ultimate test of combat. Sebastian had always pictured his master to have been like the 95-pound weakling who got sand kicked in his face at the beach. Certainly not a soldier by any means. He believed that no man knew his true, inner self until he had been hunted by other men. No sporting event, university curriculum, business competition, or political contest could rival the experience of other human beings doing everything in their power to eliminate you. When the stakes involved were life and death, the challenge forged courage, honed judgment, and opened a soldier’s eyes to the absolute, raw truths of the universe.
“He’s a fool,” Sebastian whispered, his mind recounting everything he knew about the man who just terminated his contract. “He will fuck this up… squander the greatest opportunity in the history of civilization.”
It then occurred to Sebastian that there was a far, far worse outcome than William’s failure to effectively maximize the authority of Gravity Well.
“What if a ruthless competitor decides to take the software for himself? I can just see the wimpy egghead waving a water gun in the face of the playground bully. What if Gravity Well falls into the wrong hands?”
Shaking his head, Sebastian’s fury began to reach its boiling point. “Fools. They’re all idiots… spoiled billionaire brats who have no appreciation for the power in their hands.”
The decision came quickly. Reaching for the phone on his desk, his instructions were simple and direct. “Get my plane ready. I’ll be leaving in 20 minutes.”
“This is going to take a while,” Mahajan informed the two feds. “I haven’t used this software in several years. I will have to make a few modifications, run a test or two, and then we can find out what’s going on.”
Griff didn’t like it, Kit nodding her head in understanding. “We need bona fide information,” the prosecutor stated coldly. “Reliable intel is critical at this junction. For once, we must know what is real.”
After sitting in the software guru’s office and watching him hack away at his keyboard for nearly 20 minutes, the marshal became bored. “Should I get coffee and sandwiches?” he asked.
“Finally, a job you can handle, Inspector,” Kit teased. “I’m famished, and since I think we’re going to be here throughout the night, caffeine is probably a critical component to our success.”
William was also gazing at his monitor, his hands trembling with anger. Sebastian had been the unanimous choice of the Komitet. He had failed. Anything but absolute success was intolerable.
Trying to calm his world-famous temper, he began to review their accomplishments. The agenda had been advanced. Noteworthy progress had been made. Like so many times before, while building his global empire, William strained to corral his wits. His brilliant mind worked hard, pushing the emotional fog of rage aside, clearing his head of everything but logical thoughts.
Bedlam and anarchy threatened to consume several American cities. Financial and commodities markets were in chaos. Elected leaders in Washington were throwing larger and larger rocks at each other with each passing moment. Gravity Well’s plan was on schedule. The process was working. The results were well within the parameters established by the artificial intelligence’s predictions.
By agreement, William’s next move was to call a meeting of the Komitet. Rules were rules, and while he knew exactly how the other members would react, it was difficult enough keeping the noses of bitter rivals pointed in the same direction. “Herding cats,” he whispered as he typed out the summons.
“With any luck, everyone will be able to gather in the morning. We’ll agree on a slight course correction and then shepherd this project to conclusion.”
Ven Mahajan’
s excited voice rousted Griffin from his slumber.
“This is impossible,” the tech shouted, staring at his computer screen in disbelief. “Something must be wrong.”
By the time Kit managed to reach Ven’s side, Griff was rising from his horizontal perch on the executive’s couch.
“What’s going on?” the prosecutor asked, rubbing the fatigue from her eyes.
“The junk packets… the trash of the internet… they’re being consumed. All of them! They don’t need anyone else’s big data – they have a copy of everything!”
“Please, sir, in English,” Griffin growled, still blinking away the sleep.
“Every transaction on the internet generates junk packages of data. There are probably over a thousand reasons why the packets get corrupted. Normally, they just lie dormant, waiting until the space they occupy is needed, and then they are overwritten,” Mahajan explained.
“Remember Sutherland’s drawing of the cat?” Kit added, trying to help her friend understand. “The damaged square of his drawing?”
At that moment, the meeting with the JASON seemed like a decade ago.
“Okay, yeah, I think I get it,” he managed.
“Something has happened,” the computer guru continued. “Now, all of the junk packets are being routed and accepted. Something is using them.”
“What do you mean by ‘something?’” Kit frowned. “Is there some sort of web monster eating the fiber optics?”
“No, no,” Mahajan said, shaking his head in annoyance. “The fouled packages are being routed to an address, and that command is impossible in so many ways. There isn’t a computer system in existence that could possibly read them all.”
Griff, now wide awake, remembered one of his host’s previous statements. “You said that at one point there was a scarcity of computer servers and all kinds of buzz circulated regarding what caused it. Some time back, you said. Could something like that be in play here?”
It took the Cyber Ace honcho a minute to respond. “No… well… I don’t think so. Maybe. I suppose something like is the only plausible answer,” he stammered.
“Where in the hell are these packets going?” the marshal pressed. “Give me an address, and I’ll have every fucking US marshal on the West Coast kicking down their door.”
“I’m working on it,” Mahajan replied, his fingers now a blur over the keyboard. “Before I can find them physically, I have to trace them digitally.”
William was about to prepare for bed when a string of characters began blinking red on his monitor. A second later, the computer’s artificial voice sounded an audible alarm. “Security intrusion. Back-tracking packet addressing in progress. Breach is imminent.”
For a moment, William simply sat and watched the display, his mind now moving at a frantic clip. “Sebastian said something about the feds. Mahajan! You son of a bitch!”
In reality, William knew there were at least a hundred engineers worldwide that possessed the technical skills to attempt such a move. Most of them worked for him or other members of the Komitet.
He had become acquainted with Mahajan’s skills through his investment in Techventures, one of the many ways William scouted for new talent, revolutionary products, and game-changing technology.
The Gravity Well project was just ramping up when Dr. Mahajan’s name had surfaced. A sharp-eyed assistant had brought the computer tech’s novel software idea to William’s attention. It had taken only a few moments to realize that such technology would increase the odds of discovery. “Set him up in something lucrative… but divert him. Give Mahajan enough money to make him wealthy, but put him on a different track where we can keep an eye on him,” the titan had ordered.
Now, Dr. Mahajan was back, probing around where he wasn’t appreciated.
Sighing, William reached for the keyboard. This contingency changed everything. Discovery by the authorities could foil Gravity Well’s solution. And if the artificial intelligence strategy failed, the extermination of the human species would eventually result. All the Komitet’s efforts would have been for naught, and he wasn’t the kind of man who tolerated waste.
If he had learned anything while building his empire, William knew that those in power would do anything and everything to stay there. He had seen it a thousand times before, watched desperate competitors execute elaborate survival schemes when they stared the hostile takeover beast in the eye. It didn’t matter if it was a multibillion-dollar, international conglomerate or a Mom and Pop enterprise. When people thought they were losing, all the stops were pulled out, all common sense and reason was thrown to the wind.
For less than a minute, he pondered his next step. A security breach changed everything, including the need for a meeting of the Komitet’s members. In a matter of this urgency, he had the full authority to address the situation and resolve the threat.
He began typing, basically shifting Gravity Well’s original instructions. William opted to consider a short-cut to their final destination. He fed the massive AI brain an accelerated timeline, circumventing several months of activity that would have been performed by Sebastian and his team. He had prompted his data-eating behemoth to tell him what impact such a move would have.
As Gravity Well began processing his new parameters, William scrutinized the information Sebastian had streamed before his termination of employment. The Komitet leader could see where his computer mercenary was stalking two feds as well as Ven Mahajan. Instantly, he realized all three were in San Jose, just a little over 800 miles to the south. That made sense, as he recalled, Techventures having recommended he start his new company in the heart of Silicon Valley.
William could also tell that the doctor was having trouble penetrating the minefields created around Gravity Well’s virtual perimeter. Far more potent than the common firewall, the engineers guarding the world’s largest computer system had implemented destructive countermeasures to prevent hackers from peeking behind the curtain.
For a moment, William’s mind played out the digital firefight that was being waged across the internet-battlefield. Mahajan possessed impressive skills. Eventually, he would discover a way in – if given enough time.
William was determined not to give him that time.
“I’ve narrowed it down to the western coast of the United States,” Mahajan informed the now-alert feds hovering in his office. “Whoever is consuming all of this information doesn’t want to be exposed. I’ve had my web-spiders assassinated a dozen times already.”
“Huh?” Griffin asked, the word ‘assassinated,’ drawing his attention.
“Somebody has deployed a destructive virus throughout the web, and it is the most lethal bug I have ever encountered. I’ve never seen anything like it. Not even the Department of Defense or the NSA has a digital weapon like this.”
“Do you need help?” Kit asked, concern evident in the lines on her face. “We can virtually call any resources Uncle Sam has.”
“No, I’m plowing through. One of my first projects while at university was to hack the Chinese military.”
“You did what?” Griff asked, not believing the man seated beside him had just casually admitted to a felony.
“Oh, nothing malignant or destructive. It was a challenge amongst my classmates. See who could be the first one to get inside their military’s payroll system. It was a very educational adventure.”
Griff started to say something else but was stopped by Kit’s soft hand on his chest. “Let it go,” she mouthed.
Another hour passed, both the feds eventually taking seats around the doctor’s desk and watching as his expressions covered the entire catalog of human emotions.
One minute, Mahajan was ecstatic, having achieved some small victory… flashing rage when the virus serendipitously replicated itself with vigor. Melancholy, desperation, and trepidation all paid the software guru a visit as he fought to penetrate the computerized defenses of some digital foe.
&nbs
p; Finally, after numerous bouts of frustration, the doctor pushed himself back from his desk and announced, “I may need help. This is not going as well as I had hoped. Several times, I have thought I was making headway only to find myself in a worse position. One step forward, two steps back.”
“What about Sutherland?” Griff offered.
“I need software firepower,” Mahajan countered, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of his hand.
“He’s not who you think he is,” Kit stated with a grin. “Have you ever heard of the JASONs?”
For a moment, Mahajan seemed confused. Then, brightening, he responded, “I thought his questioning was too advanced for a college professor. Is he still in San Jose?”
“Let’s find out,” Griffin said, obviously supportive of calling in backup. “Maybe they are not monitoring landlines.”
Kit produced Sutherland’s card and reached for a phone on a nearby desk. Winking at the marshal, she teased, “You know, he was a little sweet on me. Let me talk to him.”
Sure enough, the mysterious genius picked up on the second ring, Kit responding in her most alluring tone, “Why good morning, Mr. Sutherland.”
“Ms. Carson, how nice of you to call.”
“Are you still in Northern California, sir?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I hope you are calling to see if I have dinner plans,” he flirted.
Nodding to let Griff and Mahajan know of his positive response, Kit answered, “I think you’d better come by Cyber Ace’s offices as soon as possible. There’s been a development… one that Marshal Storm and I believe is critical to national security.”
