The StarSight Project

by S. P. Perone

  Nagle’s brow furrowed as he stroked his chin and looked off into space. Momentarily, his gaze returned to Sarah, and, with a smile on his face now, he replied, “Nothing. The normalized data would just be a string of ‘zeroes’ or ‘near-zeroes’ added to the existing data.”

  “Exactly. And, now you can see why the data for a simulated event wouldnot add ‘zeroes’ into the data base, but only the information related to that event.”

  The rest of the group simply stared at Sarah for several moments. Slowly, after turning to each other with questioning looks, it became clear that no one could find a flaw in her reasoning.

  Finally, Shane spoke up. “Sarah. Your idea might just be worth a try.” Then, turning to Sharon Carson, he added, “What do you think, Sharon? Do we have enough isolated ‘unique’ events to try out Sarah’s theory?”

  “I don’t know,” Sharon responded. “But, I know what I’m going to be looking at as soon as we break up. I’ll be able to let you all know later on today.”

  With that, Shane looked around at each of them, and said, “I know we’re all working on different parts of this puzzle…and we’ve only looked at Sarah’s and Sharon’s progress here today. But, there’s two things each of us should do before we get together again tomorrow: first, think about how Sarah’s idea could be used for the different techniques we’re each investigating; and second, think about how we get to the next level of prediction…if this idea really works.”

  “The ‘next level’?” Sharon inquired.

  “I mean: can we narrow down the prediction geography to a specific site, facility, group, individual, etc. And, can we predict events for which there isno precedent in the database?”

  “You know something,” Shane added before they dispersed. “I have the feeling we are really close. My gut tells me we’re going to make this thing work…soon.”

  Several minutes after the StarSight scientists had left the room, each of them going off to their individual cubicles, a slight figure emerged from behind the row of electronic racks which stood in front of the workstation the scientists had recently surrounded. Johnny Treadwell had been replacing a multiplex unit in one of the racks, out of sight, when the scientists had first entered the room. Walking briskly now to the doorway, and opening the door slightly, he found no one in the hallway. Quickly slipping out of the room, he walked deliberately towards the exit from Building 451.

  The dark figure seated in front of the computer screen was surprised to find a message for Solomon. Although he recognized the source of the query, he had not expected the contact, and he was not prepared to respond. When he did, he would have to route his connection over the secure line. He could not risk being identified. Especially not now.

  The contact at this time both puzzled and amused him. He rarely underestimated his partners in crime, but he suspected this contact had acquired information, which Solomon had believed was completely secure. If so, he knew that the subsequent communications would offer a prize worth many millions of dollars.

  The Bear had been satisfied with the regular arrival of surveillance data describing progress on the StarSight project at Livermore. But, the most recent reports had been disturbingly lacking in consistency. Pondering the significance of this contradictory intelligence, he began to make contingency plans. He wasn’t concerned that Max would not deliver whatever the Bear demanded; he was concerned that Max might deliver more. In that event, the Bear would be prepared.

  Chapter 17

  Drastic Measures.

  The heavy rain falling outside only added to the cozy atmosphere inside the Taddich Grill in the Financial District of San Francisco. Tony and Sarah were enjoying dinner, along with a noisy crowd of well-dressed regulars that filled the modest-sized restaurant. A long-time favorite of San Franciscans, this seafood restaurant with an Italian flair had been operating continuously since the 19thcentury. Seated side-by-side in one of the intimate, secluded booths, Tony was finishing his grilled swordfish, while Sarah was deciding how much of her oyster stew she would leave for Tony. The house salad, loaded with bay shrimp and tangy-sweet vinaigrette, along with the fresh sourdough bread and butter, had more than satisfied her. The oyster stew was wonderful; and she knew Tony would savor the remaining morsels. Although he had ordered the swordfish, he had coveted the oyster stew. After telling her how rare it was to find a restaurant on the West Coast that served this creamy delicacy, and that the Taddich Grill’s was one of the best…she knew she had to order it…for him.

  From their previous overnight excursion to the City, they had learned how easy it was to take BART from the Livermore Valley. They could spend the night in the City, and still be back at work at the Lab by seven thirty the next morning. Because of their pact not to sleep together while the entire team was housed in Livermore, and because of the buoyant optimism felt by the entire StarSight group over the recent progress discussed today, they had decided to spend the night in San Francisco once again. This time Tony had obtained a reservation at the Villa Florence Hotel, one of the charming European-style hotels situated close to Union Square in the heart of the city. Because it was mid-week during a brief lull in tourist activity, Tony had been able to secure a room for the night on short notice.

  Watching Tony finish the last of the oyster stew, Sarah leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Where do you think they are?”

  Consuming the last scrap of sourdough bread soaked with the last few drops of stew, Tony sat back, futilely gazing out through the narrow gap in the curtained booth…as if he could divine where their FBI “shadows” might be. “I don’t know. I saw them on BART, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. I saw three of them. One in the car ahead; one behind; and one in our car. But, do you think they’re in here having dinner?”

  “They’re in here, Sarah. Probably two at the bar and one outside. They want to be able to get out of here quickly when we leave.”

  “Do you think they’ll get a room at the hotel?”

  “I don’t know how they work these things. Maybe they’ll stay up all night and get relieved by another team of agents.”

  “Are you beginning to feel a little guilty about causing so much fuss, Tony? Are we being a little selfish with these excursions? Don’t get me wrong. I love these getaways. They’re good for us; and they’re good for our work. But, look at Sharon. She hasn’t seen her daughter for over a month. And, I think Barry has only come into the City one or two days this past month to see his family.”

  “You put your finger on it, Sarah. These getaways…despite the added ‘fuss’…probably have helped us make faster progress. We clear our heads for a few hours; return to the work refreshed; and, probably, jog loose a few ideas that might not have surfaced otherwise. Believe me, the FBI agents have cleared this with their superiors, and Carothers; and Carothers knows the investment is worthwhile.”

  “OK, Tony. You’ve convinced me. No more guilt trips. Now…why don’t we just get out of here,” she said softly, as she snuggled up close, placed a hand on his thigh, and placed her lips close to his ear. “I’m anxious to see what our room looks like,” she whispered.

  The firm tug on his right arm was insufficient to arouse Shane from his contented slumber. It only caused him to draw Sarah’s sleep-drenched nude body closer to him under the soft cool sheets of the bed. A second and third tug finally caused his head to turn, and his eyes to open partly. The sight of a huge hand encircling his arm…the hand connected to a wrist, covered partly by the dark sleeve of an overcoat…only served to irritate his subconscious.Dad…it’s too early for school. It’s still dark outside! he protested in his dream.

  The next sensation…a second huge hand firmly covering his mouth…shocked him awake instantly. The steely grip of this intruder prevented his movement, and allowed no sound to escape from his throat. Quickly, he got his bearings. He and Sarah were in their room at the Villa Florence. She was safely next to him. They were under surveillance by at least three FBI agents. But, despite
that, some intruder had entered their room, and was about to make a move on them. Calmly, he began to think of what counter-actions he might take to free himself and Sarah. His first thought was to look around to see how many intruders were there.

  Moving his gaze away from the hand on his arm, Shane found his eyes had become better adjusted to the dark of the room. Quickly he searched the corner of the room that he was able to see. Observing no other human form, he allowed his gaze to move up the sleeve of the intruder holding him down, until he was able to see the big black face at the other end.

  What is Carothers doing here?he thought.

  Seeing the recognition in Shane’s eyes, Carothers released his grip on the arm, and brought a finger up to his lips in the familiar request for silence. As soon as Shane indicated his understanding, Carothers released his grip on Shane’s face. Using sign language, he instructed Shane to arouse Sarah, while maintaining silence.

  Shane moved his right hand to Sarah’s shoulder, and gently shook her until she was half-awake. Facing away from him, and thinking that Shane was arousing her so that they might make love once again, Sarah reached up with her right hand, grabbed the hand on her shoulder, and tried to draw his arm around her. Not wanting to alarm her, Shane cooperated, and felt her move back into him while bringing his arm tightly around her, placing his right hand on her breasts.

  Slowly, Shane moved up on his left elbow, and began to lift his upper body so that he was looking down on Sarah…her eyes still closed. Gently, slowly, he moved his right hand from her breast up to her shoulder and then to her face. Feeling his hand close over her mouth, Sarah’s eyes suddenly opened wide…a look of confusion…and alarm…clearly visible. As she lurched over on her back, Shane moved to his knees at her side and brought the fingers of his left hand to his lips indicating that she should remain silent. With her gaze locked onto him, Shane motioned with his eyes that she should look over his shoulder, hoping she would recognize Carothers…and that that would not alarm her.

  Thankfully, Shane saw that Sarah’s recognition of Carothers appeared to ease her state of alarm. After a few moments, the vigorous nodding of her head indicated to Shane that she had understood Carothers’ sign language, and would remain silent if Shane released his grip on her face.

  Mouthing the words, “I’m sorry,” Shane released her. As soon as his hands were free, he pulled the sheet up to her shoulders. Quickly, he leaned over to kiss her. Then, they both turned their attention to Carothers.

  The night light in the room was sufficient for them to follow Carothers’ movements. He grabbed the garments they had placed on the nearby chair, and laid them on the bed. From his subsequent sign language it was clear he wanted them to get dressed and to follow him out of the hotel room, and that they must maintain silence.

  Seeing them nodding their understanding, Carothers turned and strode to the door, and quietly exited the room. Taking up his post outside the door, he waited patiently while Sarah and Tony dressed and came out to join him. Gesturing again that they should remain silent, he motioned them to follow him.

  They proceeded down the hall, past the elevator, and out the exit door leading to the stairway. Maintaining silence, they crept down the stairs from the sixth floor to the lobby level. Instead of exiting, Carothers brought them down yet one more level, revealing two exit doors. One door led to the Machiavelli banquet room. The other door was locked, but Carothers had a key. They passed through it into a basement, housing what appeared to be a laundry area, multiple storage tanks, ventilating equipment, and various electrical panels. Criss-crossed with plumbing, ventilating shafts and electrical conduit, the area presented a hopeless maze to Shane. Nevertheless, Carothers led them deftly through several corridors until an exit door to the outside was encountered.

  Passing through the door, Tony and Sarah found themselves climbing a flight of concrete stairs that led to a dimly lit alley behind the hotel. Waiting there was a large black sedan with a driver whose face Shane could not see. Quickly, Carothers ushered them to the back door of the sedan, opened it, and motioned them in. Closing the back door, and moving around to the other side, Carothers got in to the right front seat. As he closed the door, the sedan moved silently down the alley into the open street.

  Turning around and speaking, finally, Carothers’ first words were an apology. “Please forgive me for scaring you, and whisking you out in the middle of the night. I hope you know me well enough to know I believed it was necessary.”

  “Can you tell us what’s going on, Nathan?” Shane demanded.

  “First of all, let me introduce FBI Agent David Johnstone, our driver.”

  As Johnstone nodded, he turned his head slightly, and Shane recognized him as one of the agents who had tailed them into the city earlier in the evening. No words were exchanged. None of them believed this was a social occasion.

  “In case you’re wondering, it’s about three in the morning,” Carothers continued. “The reason we picked you up this way is because we have some urgent instructions for you. And, we have to be sure that no one else is aware of these instructions. Up until this past week, we onlysuspected you were under surveillance. We had no proof. But, now we do. The FBI screened your hotel rooms at the Residence Inn, and detected periodic transmissions that normally occurred when room occupants were asleep. They had previously screened the rooms for ‘bugs’, and hadn’t found any; so, it was a real puzzle. Finally, someone came up with the idea that the ‘bugs’ were not planted in your rooms, but on something that was transported in and out of the room. During a lunch break this past week, when you were all elsewhere, an agent examined your briefcases at the Lab and discovered some micro-recording devices cleverly hidden in the linings. We didn’t disturb them. So, the surveillance continues.”

  “Does that mean our conversations at the Lab have been monitored?” Sarah asked incredulously.

  “Yes. I’m afraid so, Sarah. And, we think your hotel rooms have been ‘bugged’ on occasion. We couldn’t be sure that your room at the Villa Florence wasn’t ‘bugged’ tonight.”

  Sarah shuddered, and pulled closer to Shane, as he put his arm around her.

  “Whoever is spying on you is very clever. He plants and retrieves ‘bugs’ before anyone can find them. He uses advanced technology. He has probably been monitoring your external e-mails. We don’t think he can penetrate the Lab’s secure networks; but we’re not certain.

  “Before you ask me why we’re letting him get away with this, let me tell you it’s in our best interest that he doesn’t know that we’re on to him. And, we can turn these ‘bugs’ to our advantage,” Carothers added.

  While Carothers paused, Shane took the time to notice that their driver was taking him on a route headed for the Golden Gate Bridge. He wondered absently what their final destination might be.

  Anticipating Shane’s concerns, Carothers interrupted his thoughts. “We’re not going anywhere, Tony. You and Sarah will be returned to your room as soon as we’ve finished here. Until then, we’ll just go on a tour of the City.”

  Noting that his passengers were both looking at him with anticipation, Carothers continued. “Tony…Sarah. We’re getting dangerously close to the beginning of the holiday season. Thanksgiving is a little over a week away. And, StarSight isn’t working. The time for drastic measures has arrived. So, I’m here to tell you what we’re going to do. And, I’m asking you and Sarah to be a part of it.”

  Looking directly at one, and then the other, of his passengers, Carothers sensed their apprehension, but pressed on. “We want to plant a story that this ‘spook’ will pick up, and draw him out where we can nab him. To do this, we first need him to think that StarSight is working, and that we are going to transport a working copy of the software and data files to Langley for operation by our counter-terrorism section.

  “Now comes the part you might not like. You two will have to fake results that indicate StarSight is ready to fly on its own. You have to deceive your colleagues. And, y
ou’ve got to get it done tomorrow.”

  Before Shane could protest, Sarah spoke up. “Nathan, we can’t possibly do something like that! They’ve all been working so hard. It’sdishonest andcruel .”

  Allowing his gaze to lock on to Sarah’s eyes, Carothers said simply, “This isn’t a negotiation, Sarah. The project team has had its opportunity to get the information we need. We’ve run out of time.”

  Returning his attention to Shane, Carothers continued. “Tomorrow afternoon you will call a meeting of the project team in your office. You and Sarah will announce that you’ve solved whatever technical problems remain, and demonstrate accurate predictions of some recent terrorist events. I don’t know enough about the technical details to give you any help here. But, I trust you can do this. Am I right?”

  “Nathan,” Shane responded heatedly, “Sarah and I are not accustomed to faking results. Not only do we find this whole idea abhorrent, but I’m not sure we could do it if we had to.”

  “Make no mistake, Tony. You have to,” Carothers said heavily. “So, why don’t you and Sarah take a little time right now and discuss how. Then, I’ll fill you in on the rest of the plan.”

  With that, Carothers turned around and proceeded to study the windshield wipers rhythmically stroking the large raindrops repeatedly smacking the window, as they continued to cruise through the dark and lonely avenues of the city.

  Chapter 18

  Old Friends Get Together

  Gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window that spanned the entire length of the front room of Sharif’s Manhattan penthouse, Ellen Moorhouse marveled once again at the glorious night skyline. Reflected in the window, she could observe her husband and Ahmed Sharif engaged in an animated conversation while seated at the bar situated between this room and the large dining room. Sipping from her glass of Pinot Noir, she allowed her focus to shorten up so that she could make out her own faint reflection in the window. As her gaze moved down the reflected figure, she took satisfaction in the fit of the long black knit gown that she had chosen to wear this evening. Set off by her striking long blonde hair, worn down to her shoulders for this occasion, the gown flattered her firm slender figure. With a deep breath, she prepared herself to undertake the mission that Carothers had persuaded them would be necessary.