The Carbon Cross (The Carbon Series Book 2)

by Randy Dutton

  Chapter 6

  August 6, 2100

  Spider

  Gabriel pressed his hand against the black biometric reader. A horizontal scanning light passed down his palm then back up.

  Beep.

  A green light flashed, indicating approval, and the metal door slid open. A rush of air flowed past him as he entered the cooler room. His ears popped when the door closed behind him. The computer center was lit by the highest quality, high definition monitors and focused task lights. Through a glass door to his left was a small server room. Its myriad LED lights flashed in primary colors. In front were three men busily adjusting computers and cables at individual workstations.

  Gabriel stepped behind a skinny man in his early 30s.

  “Yoav, how soon until you’re set up?” Gabriel pulled out a spare chair next to the man’s desk.

  “Should be another hour for the hardware...two more for the NSA connection,” Yoav said, shifting his hyper-caffeinated can of Surge out of the way. “Got the protocols?”

  “Right here.” Gabriel put a tablet on the analyst’s desk. “These will allow connection into NSA’s XKeyscore real-time data collection and its three-day rolling buffer.”

  “It’ll take time until we’ve got the right filters. Meanwhile, we’ll be busy trolling through the clutter.”

  Gabriel handed the younger man a printed page. “You’ll be assuming the identity of an existing NSA analyst, code-named Harley.”

  Yoav’s brow furrowed just under his curly black hair. “Sounds country.”

  “Try to fake an American southern accent when you talk to the bounty hunters,” Gabriel said.

  “Right.... And the target?”

  Gabriel touched an icon on the tablet. A file titled ‘Anna Catherine Picard’ opened.

  The computer expert’s eyes widened as he turned toward his boss. “Really?! Swanson’s ice queen?!”

  “She’s gone rogue....” His brow furrowed. “Ice queen?”

  “Miss Picard was pleasant but always frosty...always focused on work. I’ve spoken with her several times over the past couple years—”

  “What about?” Gabriel’s voice was wary.

  “Well...it was never social. Knowing I had worked for Mossad, she’d ask computer security questions.”

  “Like?”

  “How to avoid NSA detection, mostly hacker tricks.”

  “Figures....” Gabriel let out a deep breath. “You’ve made her tougher to find.”

  “Sorry.... Woman’s a fast study...never asked the same question twice.” Yoav grinned. “I saw her heading out of the Spider’s gym a few times...all sweated up.” The grin went crooked. “I’d certainly—”

  “Stay focused!” Gabriel’s voice was sharp and his disapproving stare cut the man’s admiration short. “Let me remind you that this beautiful woman...is extremely dangerous.”

  “So I’ve heard from the guards,” Yoav said.

  “What do you mean?” Gabriel’s brow narrowed.

  “From her first day she made them nervous—”

  “Really? How?”

  “Suddenly appearing behind them...often clicking open then closing a switchblade or some exotic, sharp weapon.”

  “Anyone ever challenge her intimidation act?” Gabriel’s harsh demeanor softened.

  “Yeah.” Yoav chuckled. “I heard one big guard did, the first month she appeared onboard.”

  “And?”

  “It was a week before they released him out of the hospital.”

  “Prison tactics.... What’d he do afterward?”

  “Requested a transfer elsewhere, far away from that demon woman.”

  Gabriel contained a chuckle and put a melted hard drive on the desk. “Add this to your projects, and keep what’s on it, entirely between us.”

  Yoav nodded, then picked up the carcass and focused a magnifying lamp on it from different angles. “Optical drive’s data is probably unrecoverable.”

  “Do what you can. If you need outside resources, you see me first. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” the lead analyst said while still focusing on the carbonized device rotating in his fingers. After a few seconds he placed it in his inbox.

  “Regarding the search.” Gabriel grinned, then opened a subdirectory named ‘Interests.’ “We’re only going to tell the hunters her pseudonym, Olga Svechinsky. Start with Anna’s computer use habits. She’s an insatiable reader and may continue perusing the same news outlets.”

  “Where’d you get the list?”

  Gabriel focused on the display. “I’ve got connections within NSA’s Utah Data Center where they store nearly everything.”

  “Sweet! And I should be able to get a lot more from Snath’s virtual private network—”

  “You can try, but she deleted most of her files over the past three weeks.”

  “Nothing’s ever truly deleted.... I’ll see how much I can recover. NSA’s social graphing on everyone will help.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because individual contact lists don’t delete old entries automatically, thus, we get latent associations.... We can tap into NSA’s ‘contact chaining’ program that will help map everyone connected with her.” Yoav scanned the long list, and emitted a low whistle. “No wonder she was so busy.” His brow furrowed. “She actually delves into these fields? Biology, chemistry, psychiatry, medicine, military tactics...the topics are extensive.”

  “She’s eclectic.” Gabriel clicked on another list. “Here are some French Riviera social websites she might not be able to resist. After spending a decade inserting herself into high society, withdrawal may be impossible.”

  “This may help.” Yoav’s finger ran down the list. “She routinely reads news websites in several languages.”

  “Why are the languages important?”

  “Because we can use NSA’s XKeyscore to extract language tags that originate in a country with a non-native language.”

  “Explain.”

  “It’s an http application plug-in.... Let’s say NSA’s computers reference hits from the same IP address originating from a Caribbean Island server for a German medical newsletter, a French fashion site, an American military tactics study, and Russian computer developments. Cross referencing only the languages we know she reads, it’ll dramatically narrow the search.”

  “Good idea, but consider she might split her queries on different computers.”

  “But it’s likely the timing of her searches would be closely aligned.”

  “Good.” Gabriel cocked his head. “Yoav, didn’t you once say Google Map searches can be traced?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Watch for searches focusing on her villa, the burned out data center, or the Spider.”

  “Sure. By the way, do we have federated access?”

  “Yes. You’ll be able to simultaneously query all 150 NSA collection points.”

  Yoav’s grin widened. “Sweet! How about the NSA’s Muscular program.”

  “I’m working on that.”

  “It’s important. Getting access to the full data stream between the Internet cloud and users in Europe is important. That’s where most of her communication passed.”

  “True.... Though, if she followed my training protocols, whatever she passed will be coded or vague.”

  “Just makes the challenge more fun.... Do we have any of her computers’ IP addresses?”

  “Yes.” Gabriel shook his head. “But it won’t matter. She’ll have replaced them with one or more computers to prevent us tracking the various hardware IDs and probably will segregate functions to different devices.”

  “One for emails, and one for searching?”

  “And another for VoIP calls, then she’d throw those away after a short while.... That’s what I would do,” Gabriel said.

  “That in itself creates a pattern if we map viewers to a website where one starts up just as another disappears.”

  Gabriel nodded.

  “
I see she has several email and VoIP accounts,” Yoav said.

  “And probably many we don’t know. Of those we do, she’s too smart to use them, but we can always hope she makes a mistake. That aside, monitor those people still trying to contact her. It may help us narrow down where she’s gone to ground.”

  “Right. We’ll also analyze her past Internet use and create meta tables. That’ll group everything into tables: phone numbers, email address, log-ins, search keywords, contacts.... Did you include her fingerprints?”

  “Yes, but how’s that going to help the computer search?”

  “She’s a gadget freak...loves high technology. If she uses a device with a finger swipe security system, the NSA or Google may record the data points.”

  “Smart....” Gabriel’s large hand settled on the smaller man’s shoulder. “There’s a reason I recommended Swanson hire you years ago.... Oh, and while you at it”—Gabriel opened another file—“get one of your analysts to focus on finding Sven Johansson and anything unusual about the Snath Genetics products he released.”

  “Hate to say this boss, there’s nothing usual about those genetic nuisances. That carbon trapping moss crap floats in the air...everywhere.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “It was being pulled into the server cooling vents. We now have to run the A/C through a HEPA filter and slightly over-pressurize the room to keep it clean.”

  “Do whatever it takes. Just expect the problem to get worse.”

  “Yes, Sir....” His brow furrowed. “Worse?”

  The older man slowly shook his head. “The moss is growing exponentially.”

  “Yikes! Same for the phytoplankton in the harbor?”

  “Ours is not to second guess the boss’s business decisions.” Gabriel’s legs pushed his chair away from the workstation. Now standing, he added. “So now I’ll leave you to get your team up to full speed.... You need more people or equipment, tell me.”

  The moment the door closed behind Gabriel, Yoav opened another Surge and scooted closer to the keyboard. “I love a challenge.... This is going to be fun.”

  Chapter 7

  August 6, 1200 hours

  Dallas Fort Worth Airport

  Patrick changed radio stations. “You know, Anna, unlike most of my family, until you came into the picture I was never much into the news...other than sports.”

  “Really, what did I have to do with that?” Anna was wiping off bronzing crème from her arms and hands. The plastic trash bag was filling.

  Patrick ignored Pete’s warning eye in the rearview mirror. “When dad got charged with murder.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that.” The corners of her pursed lips curved upward.

  “She’s family now, Patrick. Let it be,” Pete said sternly.

  Her hand patted her husband’s arm.

  “There’s a bit more,” Patrick warned. “Yesterday, the IRS announced it’s auditing dad and nearly every other senior official in his company. You’ll hear about it when you see him.”

  “That’ll put him in a testy mood. Does he know why?” Pete’s brow furrowed.

  “Witch hunt, he claims.... Said most every oil exec he knows is getting a notice.”

  Anna’s eyes suddenly widened. “Patrick, please turn the radio up a smidge. There’s a news segment promo that sounds relevant. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing.” Patrick turned up the volume.

  “This is Jill Brent of Global Heartbeat Network reporting live from the Snath Group AeroServices Division turboprop, stationed at Hilo Airport, Hawai’i. It’s early morning August 7th and we’re taking you on the maiden spraying application of the Snath Genetics carbon-trapping aerial bacterium—“

  “Oh God, a third rogue Snath product,” Pete muttered. “First the moss, then the phytoplankton, now bacteria. I hoped they would have canceled this project after the last two got out of control. I can guess the outcome—”

  “Shhhhhh!” Anna cut him off while removing the emerald-colored contact lens. “I want to hear this.”

  The broadcast continued over the aircraft noise. “...the turboprop engines are revving up for takeoff. And here we go....”

  The thrumming over the radio was tremendous.

  “The ground’s falling away and the mountains of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa loom ahead.

  “We’re here with Dr. Bill Paca, a senior atmospheric scientist with Snath Genetics. While we wait for the plane to get into position, Dr. Paca, please tell our listeners what this application will accomplish.”

  “Certainly, Jill. We’re constructing a carbon trap. A means of capturing carbon at its point of emission.”

  “Why here?”

  “Well, Hawai’i is one of the best locations to study gas release through active volcanism. Gases are at the heart of the volcano magma cycle.”

  “How much CO2 is emitted by Kilauea?”

  “The caldera emits at least 8,800 tons of CO2 per day, or 3.2 million tons per year.”

  “Since most of our listeners aren’t volcanologists, please give us some background.”

  “Of course. Globally, volcanoes are estimated to emit between 65 and 319 million tons of CO2 per year. In contrast, the Energy Information Administration – the EIA – estimates that burning carbon-based fuels emits 29 billion tons per year.”

  “What other gases are emitted?”

  “Water vapor, carbon monoxide, methane, sulfur dioxide, chlorine.”

  “Is anything other than gas released?” she shouted over the roar of the engine.

  “Yes.... Significant metallic concentrations, including arsenic, copper, zinc, cadmium, iron.”

  “So really, it’s a pea soup. Tell me, do all volcanoes emit the same gas concentrations?”

  “No. Gas chemistry depends on the nature of the substance melted from Earth’s mantle, the melting temperature, and the type of eruption. Parts of the mantle have more gaseous material that increases their explosive potential. Kilauea emissions average 37% water vapor and 48% CO2.”

  “Thanks for the background. So, what do you hope to accomplish today?”

  “Today, we’re going to spray a genetically modified aerial bacterium that consumes CO2.”

  “Won’t the bacteria just fall out of the sky?”

  “Actually, no...not at first. Clouds contain over 17 different natural bacteria taxa, but this one’s different. We expect this bacterium to proliferate from the very rich volcanic plume.”

  “How?”

  “It’ll bind with airborne particulates, absorb water vapor released by the thermal vents, capture CO2 and pull in necessary nutrients. It should propagate rapidly and become cloud seed, drop into the ocean, and sink.”

  “What happens there?” the reporter asked.

  “Like Snath’s other carbon-trapping technologies, this bacterium’s designed not to be consumed in the oceans.”

  Patrick turned down the radio. “Pete, how long have you known about this?”

  “A couple months.”

  “If it’s not eaten, what’ll happen when it drops into the ocean?”

  “It’ll probably release the meganutrients, which then feeds the phytoplankton.”

  “So it’ll reduce CO2 in the air?”

  “Yep. That seems to be the goal,” Pete twirled his index finger to the mirror.

  Patrick turned up the radio.

  “Dr. Paca, that sounds exciting. How will you measure it?” Jill asked.

  “Jill, along with NASA, we have monitors in and around the vents and aerial sensors downstream at varying distances and from 1 to 17 kilometers in altitude. We’ll also share a new satellite that measures and records CO2 concentrations.”

  “What constitutes success?”

  “Our current goal’s to reduce CO2 levels in the volcanic plume by 10% about 1,000 kilometers downstream.”

  “How often would you have to spray?”

  “This test will show us the feasibility of setting up continuous sprinklers near the sources of CO2.
Emissions don’t just come from the plume but from vents along the flanks of the volcano, ideal for our proposed system.”

  “Are there other potential sprinkler locations?”

  “In every active and resting volcano in the world. It may represent only a small percentage of CO2 overall release, but every bit helps. To save the planet, we mustn’t spare any expense in trapping CO2 at its source.”

  Pete groaned. “Seriously?”

  Anna paused her clean up, stared out the tinted window, took a deep breath and slowly released it. “We saw it as a lucrative revenue source with no downside. Sven assured us it wouldn’t survive outside a high concentration plume. Now, I’m not so sure.” She returned to her task.

  Jill continued. “Dr. Paca, skeptics say undersea volcanism is much to blame for increasing CO2 levels and for warming the oceans, and that it’s under-reported. Is that true?”

  “It’s true, we don’t understand as much about undersea volcanism. There are hot spots under the ice in Antarctica, under Greenland, in the Arctic Ocean and along many of the ocean rifts. There may be much more naturally emitted CO2.”

  “How do you know where to spray?”

  “We are using spectrographic equipment that identifies areas of the plume that have the highest concentrations of water vapor and carbon dioxide. We’re releasing extremely fine particles that should be carried by the plume’s updraft and, hopefully, will stay aloft for the next 1,000 kilometers.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Paca. Folks, we’ve arrived on station. The plane has started its zigzag pattern, and for the next hour the plane will spray into the plume. Global Heartbeat Network will continue covering the progress of this seminal event throughout the day. Thank you for tuning in. This is Jill Brent, On The Beat.”

  Anna relaxed when a biodegradable shoe commercial came on the air.

  “Thanks Patrick,” Anna said, removing her false eyelashes. “Turn it to whatever you want.”

  He changed the radio to a contemporary station and lowered the volume.

  “So, did you guys have any excitement in France? Or did I worry needlessly?” Patrick asked. “I monitored the Krugerrands and was happy to see both your coins together very soon after Pete arrived. But I was confused to see one later show up at the yacht.”