The Delta Chain

by Ian Edward

  ‘No, I thought Kate was still in Sydney. But I guess it’s obvious she and Walter are looking for those hunters.’

  ‘I was rather hoping you could’ve told me something different,’ Letterfield said.

  ‘It shouldn’t take me too long to charter a flight and-’

  ‘There’s nothing you can do here, Detective, that isn’t already being done. We’ve located their four-wheel drive and search parties are on the way. Just stay near a phone and I’ll keep you posted.’

  Daniel gulped down the breakfast Barbara Cail had prepared. Barbara didn’t want Costas and Joey standing about, staring at the boy, so she gave them chores to do; Joey was asked to toast more bread and make hot chocolate; Costas was given some dishes to wash.

  His mouth full, Daniel said: ‘Thanks…for helping me.’

  ‘You’re more than welcome,’ Barbara said with a motherly smile.

  Once the boy was well fed, Costas sat with him at the kitchen table. Joey served the toast and hot chocolate, and lingered.

  ‘Now let’s see if we can find out something about you,’ Costas said. ‘Where exactly are you from?’

  ‘The Com, I suppose.’

  ‘Ah yes, this…Com. What is that?’

  ‘It’s…home. It’s where I’ve always lived.’

  ‘And where is The Com?’

  ‘It’s over the border, in New South Wales. In God’s country.’

  Costas frowned. God’s country. It seemed an odd phrase for the boy to use.

  ‘Who are the Keepers, Daniel?’ Joey asked.

  ‘They’re the ones who look after us and teach us.’

  ‘Then where are your parents?’

  Daniel thought about this for a moment. ‘…I guess, the Keepers are my parents.’

  ‘Then why do you call them the Keepers?’

  Daniel stared back at Joey. He didn’t seem to have an answer.

  ‘And you ran away from The Com?’ Costas asked.

  Daniel hesitated. Then, guiltily, he admitted, ‘Yes.’ Tears smarted in his eyes. ‘You said you wouldn’t send me back.’

  ‘We won’t,’ said Barbara, touching the boy’s shoulder in a gesture of support. ‘You look incredibly tired.’

  ‘I am.’

  Barbara looked to Costas. ‘Then no more questions for now.’ And to Daniel: ‘How about a nap?’

  ‘You can use my bed,’ Joey offered.

  ‘But I need to get my backpack.’

  ‘And where’s that?’ Costas asked.

  Daniel explained how he’d dropped it in a bush near the bridge. He told them how it contained things that were important to him, though he didn’t specifically mention his journal.

  ‘You get some sleep,’ Costas said. ‘I’ll go into town and find your backpack. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  After Barbara had led Daniel through to the bedroom, Joey turned to Costas. ‘Are we going to go look for it now?’

  ‘It’s as good a time as any.’ In the midst of all that was happening, Costas remained aware Joey was continuing to respond to him in a positive manner. In fact, it was the first time there had ever been any real communication between them. As he led the way out to the car, Costas turned his eyes skyward for just a brief moment and thanked God.

  The area Daniel described was easy to find and the backpack sat, nicely hidden, in the bushes near the bridge.

  Returning, they found Daniel was fast asleep. With an eager Joey and a concerned Barbara hovering, Costas inspected the contents and he fished out the thick but compact journal.

  Kate and Walter had been on the road a couple of hours, crowded into the ute driven by Simon. From the outstation there’d been an easier access to the highway.

  Thomas and Simon were taking Kate and Walter back via the quickest route to where they’d left their four-wheel drive.

  They stopped at a roadside café and while Simon ordered refreshments, Kate selected a table. The sound of a helicopter swooping overhead caused a number of the patrons to look out the windows. ‘Third time this morning,’ the woman behind the counter said to Simon.

  ‘You know what it’s about?’

  ‘Word has it the Wildlife rangers have a search on for one of their own.’

  ‘Uh oh.’ Simon quickly rejoined the others at the table. ‘Guess who that copter’s out searching for?’

  Using the café’s public phone, Walter called Harold Letterfield. ‘You’re not searching for me, are you, boss?’

  ‘Of course I’m damn well searching for you.’ Letterfield’s tone was relieved but testy. ‘Is Kate Kovacs with you?’

  ‘Well, yeah…but why? We’re-’

  ‘I want you to stay right where you are. I’ll have one of the choppers pick you up. Another team will bring back the four wheel drive.’

  ‘Boss, there’s no need-’

  ‘Humour me. I want you both back safe and sound asap.’

  ‘Harold, listen. We have a way…well, to be more precise, Kate has a way to track the hunters.’

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘Kate’s the best one to explain that.’

  ‘Save it for when you’re back here. I’m going to want some explanations.’

  ‘Why did you come looking for me in the first place?’ Walter wondered. ‘I was on leave…’

  ‘Because we have a photograph of an alligator poaching gang taken in Florida a couple of years back. Need you to have a look at it.’

  ‘Florida? What’s Florida got to do with any of this?’

  ‘That’s what we all want to know.’

  Kirby called Adam in to his office. ‘I’ve spoken to both Westmeyer and the mayor,’ the senior sergeant said. ‘Everything’s set up.’

  ‘Reaction?’

  ‘Well, the mayor’s ecstatic, likes the idea. You know Sandy Bingham. He’s nervy about the festival and his re-election, wants to keep any more bad news under wraps.’

  ‘And Westmeyer?’

  ‘Welcomed the help but quite frankly seemed a little cool.’

  ‘Doesn’t want me snooping about the place,’ Adam said, ‘but at the same time doesn’t want to give the wrong impression by rejecting help.’ Adam headed through to his own office, but found his focus on the case continually under threat from his fears about Kate.

  Hank Mendelsohn had asked to be present when Walter was shown the photograph. He and Jean were patiently seated in Letterfield’s office when Kate and Walter arrived. Letterefield made hasty introductions but before he could show the Florida photo, Kate removed the Landscan III from her carry bag.

  ‘This is the computer I spoke of,’ Walter said to his boss.

  Jean inched forward, her curiosity piqued. ‘Mr Letterfield told us you said you had a way to track the hunters.’

  ‘Yes. And this is it.’

  ‘They killed my son, Kate,’ Jean said, and for a moment it was as though there was no one else in the room and time had frozen. These two women from different generations and different countries empathised with each other’s pain. ‘And I know you lost your brother to them.’

  The older woman embraced the younger one and then the moment passed and Kate said, ‘We’re going to get them, Jean.’ She placed the unit on Letterfield’s desk, clicked open the lid and keyed in the start up codes.

  ‘So just how does all this work?’ asked Hank.

  ‘This is the prototype for an advanced tracking system, designed for commercial use.’

  They grouped around as the map appeared on the screen. Kate explained how the micro tracking pad worked.

  A blip on the screen showed the movement of the boat.

  ‘But that shows the boat as being on land.’ Letterfield was confused. ‘And it’s over the border into Queensland.’

  ‘They’ve covered a hell of a lot of ground since yesterday,’ Walter said.

  ‘The tracker is on a section of the deck that Walter believes was removable,’ Kate told Letterfield, ‘and which would’ve since been loaded onto a truck.’


  ‘It’s a purpose-built boat,’ Walter confirmed. ‘It uses hydraulic systems, and harnesses, to catch the crocs. The same gear could lift the removable section of the deck onto a truck.’

  ‘And it would appear,’ Hank said, ‘that they’re headed directly for the east coast.’

  Walter and Kate verified that the boat in the Everglades photo had the same deck as the one they’d encountered.

  Letterfield called the Federal Police.

  Nervously, Kate made the promised phone call to Adam. She expected he’d be furious. Once on the phone, her hyperactivity went into overdrive. At lightning speed she told Adam about the Landscan III. Adam asked a couple of questions but for the most part he just listened, overwhelmed by her manic energy. He did manage, after a while, to say, ‘Kate, I wish you had thought to phone me…’

  She said that she would explain in full later.

  ‘I’ll fly over there in the morning,’ Adam said.

  ‘There’s no need. I’m fine, and I’ll be back in Northern Rocks in a day or so’

  After the call, Adam slammed the phone in an uncharacteristic display of frustration. An image flashed in his mind: his sister, alone and buffeted by wind, moments before being swept into the sea. The one thing most likely to stress Adam was when someone close to him simply wasn’t there, without warning, without explanation…why couldn’t Kate have understood that? But no, she had to do it all her own way. Adam had avoided close relationships for just that reason, letting his guard down for the first time…and what had happened? The girl he’d fallen in love with had gone missing, without warning, without explanation.

  And it seemed, without caring.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Despite the early start and the long day so far, Adam was energised. The late afternoon saw him meet with Westmeyer and Donnelly at the Institute.

  Adam sensed Westmeyer’s upbeat welcome was an act by a seasoned performer. Donnelly, as usual, was cool and tight lipped.

  It was left to Tony Collosimo to take Adam on a tour of the premises. Adam had met the security officer previously and remembered him as capable and pragmatic, a man whose eyes took in more than he let on.

  Collosimo had spent the earlier part of the day keeping tabs on Melanie Cail. He liked the idea of catching her red handed at something - anything- that exposed her as the saboteur. He’d followed her as she’d gone to a meeting back at The Express. After a brief stop at her apartment, which had now been bugged, he’d followed her back to the Institute. Then he’d instructed his security team to play tag, keeping her within sight at all times.

  Although he’d been there a few times before, Adam had, in fact, seen very little of the Institute.

  It appeared laid back on the surface, nestled as it was in picturesque surrounds, but the Institute was actually heavily guarded. A lightweight steel fence encircled the grounds. At strategic points around the perimeter there were sensors and closed circuit television cameras. None of this was obvious to the casual eye. On the interior there was easy access to many of the general offices and labs. However, smart keys were required for entry to the labs, storerooms and executive offices.

  The ground floor had a spacious, open feel, with its generous entry lobby and reception/security desks. A mezzanine strip with indoor plants and slanted skylights added to the sense of space. The second and third levels had a closed-in feel, with narrow corridors, cluttered offices and dozens of labs of varying sizes. Some of these had easy walk-through access. Others, deeper within the complex, had security doors that slid back with a sharp hiss when activated by the insertion of a card.

  Despite the differences in size and access, Adam found the labs similar: crammed workbenches and computer terminals against an expanse of chrome and glass in neutral shades. Tungsten light bulbs gave an impression of natural daylight.

  On the first level, they encountered James Reardon. He was surrounded by screens and hard drives.

  He and Adam shook hands. ‘Awkward question, but how did it go in Sydney?’

  ‘Depressing, obviously, but all things told the family held up as well as could be expected.’

  ‘I got a call from Kate, as I believe you did-’

  ‘Yes.’ Adam’s abrupt reply was a clear sign he didn’t want to discuss Kate’s secret journey. ‘How’s your investigation into the virus?’

  ‘Slower than I’d like, because it’s not spreading in the usual way. In fact, it’s not actually spreading at all.’

  ‘Not spreading,’ said Collosimo. ‘But the computer crashes-’

  ‘The great stumbling block we’ve had was figuring out why, after anti-viral software cleaned the system, that the virus resurfaced. I’m now certain the virus was being deleted successfully each time by our software.’

  ‘So how was it operating?’ Collosimo asked.

  ‘I believe the virus was being sent in anew each time it struck, through a “backdoor” created by a hacker. Once having planted the virus, the hacker then closed that backdoor and erased all signs of their presence. It’s as though they were never there. But backtracking through the system with some highly sensitive tracking programs, I can detect residual traces of a hacker’s activity.’

  ‘So you’re saying,’ Adam clarified, ‘that each time Kate deleted the virus, the hacker returned afterwards, creating a new portal and replanting the virus.’

  ‘Yes, although with variations to the code, so that it could initially evade the anti-viral guard.’

  Adam frowned. ‘Wouldn’t that require comprehensive knowledge of the system and its firewalls?’

  ‘Yes. And quite possibly, this hacker is someone with insider access. Or it’s someone using a “stolen” password to access the system. Either way, once inside, the hacker creates the backdoor, allowing them to re-enter later. Afterwards, they patch over the hole to throw off any sign or suspicion that they were ever there in the first place.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Adam, ‘and they then repeated that whole process each time the virus reappeared.’

  ‘Yes. A deliberate game of cloak and dagger, to fool Kate and the rest of us in to believing the virus hadn’t been erased, and was still lurking in the network.’

  ‘Stephen Hunter takes his laptop off site every evening,’ Collosimo said, ‘and he’s a got a thing going on with a reporter. Melanie Cail.’

  ‘You suspect her of using his password, on his own laptop, to enter the system?’ asked Reardon.

  ‘We suspect her of being the fax saboteur, and if you ask me she’s a prime suspect for this as well.’

  ‘Can you trace this hacker?’ Adam asked.

  ‘Hopefully, yes. As I explained, this hacker covered their digital footprint, but sometimes, by digging deep, we can retrieve that data.’

  ‘How?”

  ‘When a hacker breaks into a system and leaves a “back door” for re-entry,’ Reardon said, ‘they do it by leaving a signal code which only they know and to which their own computer is linked. If this file has such a signal, and if I can retrieve it, then that code is the way I trace the hacker. I do it with a DOS prompt, like this…’ Reardon’s fingers flew across the keyboard, ‘…that sends a ping to the network, instructing it to send a reply signal back to the hacker’s computer. Our signal then bounces back again, bringing with it the hacker’s computer’s IP number. When and if I have that number, Adam, I hand it to you and you obtain the name and address listed against the IP through police resources.’

  ‘When will you know?’

  ‘Patience, patience.’ Reardon knew the art of being both jokey and serious at the same time; he was in his element and loving it. ‘This is painstaking work and there’s a big “if” about whether it will be successful. But I’ll call you as soon as I have any answers.’

  ‘It’s a personal journal,’ Costas said, flicking through the dog-eared pages of the diary. ‘The lad must’ve been keeping it a long time. And he’s quite the writer. It looks as though he hasn’t just kept a record of daily events. There’s…we
ll, many passages of observations and reflections.’

  ‘His own private world,’ Barbara said, ‘I believe it’s common with children who suffer abuse or isolation.’

  ‘Does it say what The Com is?’ asked Joey.

  ‘Who-a! It would take ages to read through the whole journal and establish anything like that. And it is, after all, Daniel’s private writings, not our business to go rummaging through.’

  ‘Surely it would help though,’ Barbara said, ‘if a glance through gives us some …idea…’

  ‘…Where he’s from and why he’s in trouble and stuff.’ Joey completed her thought in his own words.

  ‘How’s he doing?’ Costas asked Barbara.

  ‘The poor kid is out cold.’

  Costas was still flicking aimlessly through the pages. ‘Okay, perhaps just this once. If it helps us help him…’ He sat at the kitchen table, stopping at one of the undated NOTES pages on which Daniel had scribbled “Our Secret” as a heading. ‘Let me try this,’ Costas said. He read the passage out in a quiet voice as Joey and Barbara crowded in closer.

  “There are times, like now, when we are confined to the main house for weeks at a time. During these times we are not allowed onto the grounds of The Com. I’ve always hated these times, especially when the weather is warm and the sun is shining.

  “My brothers and sisters and I wonder about these confinements. The Keepers tell us it is part of their teaching. That learning to cope with confinement is good for our souls. Once, one of the younger girls crept out onto the grounds, against orders, whilst the Keepers and the Carers were occupied. The girl just wanted to play with her ball during a recess. I don’t remember the girl’s name now. She was given a terrible beating, which we all saw, and then locked without food or light, just daily water, for a full week in The Darkness.

  Sometimes, during the night, we could hear her crying or whimpering and that sound, more than any other, is the one I try to block from my memories. Afterward, the girl was sent away to one of the other Coms. Or so we were told.