Grady lounged in his room the rest of the morning, relaxing and letting the TV drone in the background. Hunger pains set in around lunchtime, and he went forth in search of food. The front had passed, and sunshine cast its light everywhere, so he decided to wander around the outcropping of stores and restaurants scattered beneath the Pats Peak Ski Resort. The sun made the day feel warmer than it actually was, and made the snow sparkle. It was the perfect ski village setting. As he strolled along the street, nothing in takeout or fast food looked appealing, so Grady chose a sit-down restaurant.
He seated himself in a sunny corner of a small café and scanned the menu. A friendly waitress supplied him with coffee, and a personal-sized warm loaf of banana-nut bread to munch while he made his choice.
“Salmon Wrap or Blue Bacon Burger?” Grady asked when she came back to take his order.
“Both are great,” she responded. “With the salmon, I’d recommend our lemon sauce. The Blue Bacon Burger is legendary.”
“Then the burger it is.” Grady smiled.
“Fries, Sweet potato fries, red boiled potatoes, or steamed vegetables?” the waitress asked him.
“Sweet potato fries.” He’d get back to watching fat grams later.
The burger was amazing. Grady figured an extra five-mile run should make up for it—or maybe ten miles. He read a local newspaper while he ate, thinking how far removed this place seemed from DC, and reflecting on what he’d left behind.
Pushing his plate aside, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the service. They reported that he had no messages. Then he pulled out his key chain code device and asked to be transferred. At the beep he put in the second code.
The phone connection clicked in. “John? It’s Barlow.”
“Colonel; glad to see you’re alive.” John quipped.
“What do you mean?” Grady realized he sounded abrupt, and tried to sound more casual. “Know something I don’t know?” His comfortable lunch mood waned quickly, as he wondered what John had been told.
“Just an expression, Colonel.” John answered, moving on with the conversation. “I found something that may interest you. Modifying that file I told you about would work for a while, but the safeguards would eventually catch it. That’s the good news. The bad news is they could keep setting up new files. If it was done inside, we’d always be a day late, and a dollar short when we caught up to the change.”
“I’m following you.” Grady told him.
“Good. Here is where it gets interesting: imagine you’re the guy in charge of this operation. You don’t want to have to depend on your inside man, right?” John asked.
“Right.” Grady answered cautiously.
“So, you build something that’s self-perpetuating, like a virus.” John sounded confident.
Grady thought about that concept. “If someone did that, wouldn’t a virus checking program stop it?’
“They’re only set to stop unauthorized actions.” John answered. “If your computer is expecting a legitimate change, and the action becomes part of the valid software, virus software will never catch it. At least, not in this case. Pat has figured out that much already. You see, once it is authorized inside the firewall, the anti-virus system ignores the virus, unless it tries to modify a program it is not related to, or the program is flagged to not allow changes. So, unless someone anticipates or spots a problem, the automatic system will run as ‘normal,’ and will ignore it.”
He continued, “The beauty of this scheme is that no one will know the system is doing something wrong. If someone found a way to do this, it would be practically invisible the first time, and from then on it would be impossible to find, except in the software code. I don’t think anyone would ever check there. At least not until it had screwed things up a number of times, or for some reason the results misaligned in some very visible way.”
Grady thought about it to make sure he had a clear picture. “I think I’ve got it. You have anything else?”
“Not at this point.” John answered.
“Any suggestions about how to determine whether this is occurring?” Grady felt that this conversation wasn’t giving him a trail to follow.
“Yes. Have an expert team evaluate every program in the project for changes, particularly those interface files just outside the last firewall, and look for something similar to a virus.” John directed.
“Thanks. Sounds simple, but time consuming.” Grady answered, wondering if Robert had a team ready to do this.
“Not that simple. But done right, it will appear to be. Most truly complex things are.” John answered cheerfully.
“Good job, John. Pass on my thanks. I’ll send the information on, and make sure we plug this hole.” Grady assured him.
“Good luck. Oh...don’t forget, you can’t use any experts who are already inside.” John reminded him.
“Why?” Grady questioned, realizing the answer even as he spoke.
“Because one or more of them may be corrupted.” John told him.
“Great. Who can be used to second-guess these guys?” Grady asked, thinking out loud.
“Good question.” John answered. “Good luck.” He hung up.
Grady called the answering service again. This time he had his service dial the call and introduce him.
“Associate Attorney General’s office. Lorraine speaking, may I help you?” Lorraine answered.
“Thirteen calling for Mr. Carlton,” the woman at the service intoned.
If Lorraine was unnerved or surprised by the use of the number, or by the woman’s voice, she didn’t show it. She quickly put the call through to Robert as Grady thanked the service secretary, and took over the call.
Robert was on the line in a flash. “Grady! God, I was wondering if you were still with us.”
“So far, so good. You might want to think about lowering your voice, instead of shouting out my name. Remember, I’m still dead as far as anyone else is concerned.” Grady said wryly, trying to instill some cautionary discipline. “I have some information for you.” He continued.
“I need to ask you something,” Robert interrupted. “Who was in the car?”
“In the car?” Grady asked blankly.
“Fire, police and the ATF assume you died at your house, and the Secret Service is assuming you died in the car explosion on Roosevelt Island. It’s only a matter of a time before they complete a check on the dental records. I need to know who was in the car,” Robert explained.
“One of the guys who attacked me at the house.” Grady answered. “And what’s this about the ATF?”
“A fireman found parts of an incendiary grenade at your house, so now it is all about arson, murder and explosives. The ATF has jurisdiction on explosives, and we’re assuming that Homeland Security will be involved soon. So, the guy in the car—you took him with you from the house? They found the other guy in the house, or at least what was left of him. He and the house are ashes.” Robert told him.
“I didn’t plan to take the other guy. Actually, I didn’t know he was in the car until I looked in the trunk. I guess you don’t have any idea who these guys are?” Grady asked.
“That hasn’t come to light. Like I said, everyone involved has a different perspective and theory, even on the simple things—like where you died. So nobody’s questioned who the bodies are, yet. Different groups are both assuming they are your remains.”
“And you aren’t asking, either. That’s probably good. A little confusion may help keep them off my trail.” Grady told him.
“So, do you always keep Thermate grenades around for special occasions?” Robert asked curiously.
“Those guys brought them.” Grady said. “They had the grenades ready to use when they came to see me. The one that blew up my house was their idea. I found the second one, and put it to good use.”
“That makes more sense than you having them. ATF and the Fire Marshal are assuming arson as a minimum. Inventive, blowing up your own car.” Robert commented
, sounding a little dazed. Never would he have believed a conversation like this would sound so casual.
“Look, we’ve already been on the phone too long. You’d better let me get to the point.” Grady proceeded to tell Robert what John had told him, as accurately as he remembered. “Some computer expert could make better practical use of that information.”
“I think I’ve got what you’re telling me straight.” Robert was making notes while Grady talked. “I need to get some computer whiz to dig into this, and then we’ll have that possibility covered. It will be a problem finding someone with both the expertise and security clearance to watchdog the NSA.”
“You just said, ‘we’ll have that possibility covered.’ That possibility? I thought this was it—the hole in the operation that we needed to plug.” Grady asked, irritated.
“Well, we can’t count on that being the only thing someone might try,” Robert said reasonably. “It sounds like a strong conclusion, and certainly it’s a logical path to follow if our problem is inside the NSA, but we’re still guessing that this is where someone would strike.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean.” Grady felt a little deflated. He’d been so intent on getting this thing wrapped up that he’d hoped John’s information would lead to an immediate conclusion.
“I wish I could say that this thing is going to be over soon, Grady.” Robert sounded sincerely concerned about leaving Grady hanging. “You don’t know how much I appreciate your help. I hope this is the answer, but until we know for sure, and until we find out who’s behind this, we need to keep digging. I wish I could tell you to lay low, Grady, but I still need your help. Keep checking on this, and call in if anything new comes up. We still don’t know why this is important enough to kill somebody. You’re undoubtedly still a target. I think you had the right idea about getting out of town. It’s not feeling very safe here anymore.” Robert advised him worriedly.
“Believe me, I wish you had never gotten me into this—and I’m not so sure you’re safe, either. Do you know who you can actually trust?”
“I have concerns. I need to check something out, and then I’ll let you know which way it leads, but don’t take any calls from anyone you don’t know. That includes my security detail, since you’d have no way to verify that you are hearing from verifiable agents.”
“Something, or someone?” Grady sighed. “Perfect. Is someone trying to blow up your house?”
“I’m covered.” Robert assured him. “I’ve got the Secret Service for roommates.” Robert had just lied to Grady about being covered. Knowing that Carey had omitted information about Hunt had compromised his faith in the Secret Service.
“I’ll call again later.” Grady hung up the phone. He decided he would grab a much-needed nap. He still hadn’t caught up on his rest, and the big lunch was making him sleepy. He drove back to the cottage. Before he fell asleep, his thoughts fell on the call with Robert, and “the possibility” that they would never find out who might want him dead.
Chapter 61
“Where are we?” Marty had questioned, looking around. He wanted to know if he was right about it being Terri’s house before he said anything else.
“My place.” Terri answered. “Come on, I want you to see it. I can make us some coffee. I think I have some Kahlua, too.” She got out of the car and headed for the door. Marty could do nothing but follow. He didn’t feel like saying no anyway.
The house had a wide, comfortable living room. It was well appointed, with reasonably nice furniture. Terri hung their coats in the hall closet, after they shut the door on the nighttime chill.
“Kona, or Hazelnut?” She said as she went into the kitchen.
“Both are fine.” Marty tried to look at ease, leaning unsteadily against the kitchen counter. “I like your place.”
“Thanks. I haven’t been here long, but it’s coming around.” The coffee maker began making gurgling sounds. “Kahlua?”
“I better not.” Marty answered unsteadily, wondering if he’d sober up enough to drive home.
“Oh, live a little!” Terri poured a small amount into each mug. “It’s just for flavor. Do you want milk?” She asked as she reached for the coffeepot.
“No, thanks.”
“Bailey’s?”
“Definitely not.” He smiled, suddenly. He felt like he was on a first date. He was enjoying the sensation.
“Go pick out a CD,” Terri told him. “The stereo is in the living room.”
Marty dutifully headed in to make a selection. Terri poured more Kahlua into his coffee.
He picked some light jazz CDs from the top of a stack. The stereo blasted out saxophone notes, and Marty quickly turned the volume down. Terri apparently listened to very loud music from time to time. Turning, he found her behind him with the coffee.
“Here you go, have a seat.” She indicated the couch. When he had settled in, she sat cozily beside him.
The conversation died away as the warmth of the room, coffee, and soft music set in.
“I really like this music. I listen to it all the time.” She said softly.
Marty would have felt his eyelids getting heavy if he hadn’t been concentrating on Terri’s hand casually resting on his thigh. It had been on his knee at first, but was slowly working its way up. He drained his cup. When she had asked him if he wanted more, he declined. She got up to get herself some, and took his empty cup with her. When she returned, she had poured more coffee and Kahlua in both cups, despite his protest. She settled back into the couch right next to him. She sighed quietly, and nestled against him.
“Don’t you love this music? It’s one of my favorites.” Her hand slid up to touch where his leg and hip joined.
Marty could feel a rush run through his body. “Yes, I like this music very much,” he said. He raised his arm and put it around her, surprised at how bold he was, and wondering why he felt so comfortable.
Rolling a little to her side, Terri looked up into his face. As she stretched up to place her lips on his neck, her hand ran up between his legs. He flushed from head to toe, fully aroused. The alcohol had filled him with confidence. He set down his coffee cup, and drew his free hand across her young, flat stomach. From there he moved upward to her breasts. They were firm and full. She nibbled his neck harder, her tongue sliding up to his ear, and her hand pressing into him aggressively.
“I think we should go in the bedroom.” She said in a throaty voice. Marty was overwhelmed at how ready he was to be with her. They stood as one, refusing to let go of each other.
She giggled and broke the clench. “Come on.” She said with a wide, sensual smile. Taking his hand, she led him to her bedroom.
She had a four-poster bed with a sheer awning over it. She threw off the comforter and coming over to him, started unbuttoning his shirt. He did the same to her.
Her breasts hid momentarily behind the delicate white lace of her demi bra, which unfastened easily from the front. Their clothing fell to the floor as one. The dark pink nipples of her breasts accented the remnants of last summer’s tan line. Marty felt no inhibition as he caressed and kissed her body. Terri didn’t seem to notice or care that his body was soft and pale, as she wrestled his pants off. Soon they were both on the floor tugging playfully at each other’s shoes and socks.
They rolled over the floor naked together. Marty was thoroughly aroused, and Terri seemed to know how to keep him that way, with an occasional touch, or long delicate stroke. He teased her with smooth circular motions of his fingertips. Her whole body seemed to be covered with erogenous zones, and he happily touched every part.
The pressure was too much for Marty. He fell onto her in a frenzy of sexual extravagance. Her cry of exultation followed closely behind his as he collapsed onto her, beads of sweat turning chilly in the winter-cooled air.
“God, that was great.” She said.
“Pretty amazing.” He murmured back.
They lay there for several minutes just feeling each other inside and o
ut. The exertion and booze were taking its toll. Marty’s eyes were dipping lower and lower.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Terri gleefully chided him. “I’m not done with you, yet.”
“I’m not falling asleep.” Marty insisted, trying to reawaken himself.
“No, and you’re not going to.” Terri rolled him off her. “Go start the shower, I’ll be right in. I’m in the mood to feel slippery.” She giggled as she headed out of the bedroom almost skipping toward the kitchen.
Marty smiled at her departing naked backside, then hopped into the adjoining bathroom, and turned on the hot water. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Terri ran into the kitchen and unlocked the backdoor. Coming back into the bedroom she heard Marty ask, “Are you coming in?”
“I’ll be right there. Go ahead and get in.” She called back.
She reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out a black object. When she heard the shower door close she went in. Marty was turning in circles under the water.
“Hi.” He said when he saw her naked form through the mottled translucent glass. “Come on in! The water’s great.”
She reached her hand forward and opened the shower door a few inches. Throwing the switch on the electric stun gun in her hand, she tossed it into the shower.
The high current battery discharged completely, as the water formed a conductor over Marty’s body. Marty convulsed, falling down into the basin, his arms and legs flailing with the massive electric shock. The gun had been modified to discharge high amperage as well as volts.
When she could tell the battery was dead and the sparks finished, Terri reached into the shower and turned off the water. Marty lay crumpled in the bottom. His breathing was raspy, and getting shallower by the moment. He jerked a couple of times, then fell silent.
Two men stood in the doorway behind her.
“He’s dead?”
“Yes,” she said as she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. She reached forward and checked for a pulse in his neck. “Yes, he’s dead. Take him out. I’ll be along in a minute.”
One Man Two Votes (The Robert Carlton Series Book 1) Page 32
