The Phoenix Agenda: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 6)

by JC Ryan

  “I can’t remember,” he said aloud, to no one in particular.

  “Sorry, Peter. Did you say something? You’re unusually quiet tonight, dear. What’s the matter?” The blonde gold-digger closest to him wanted to know.

  “Apologies, I was deep in thought there for a few moments. Please excuse me, I have to go and talk to my partner quickly. I’ll be back soon.” Peter promised with a smile but no intention of returning.

  “Don’t make me wait too long, darling,” she giggled.

  Peter made up his mind as he covered the ten paces to reach his business partner, Mark Levinson. He was going to get out of the rat race. Life had more to offer than this. Two paces away from where Mark was standing surrounded by two of his own money suckers, a server with a tray filled with snacks in one hand and a small white envelope in the other blocked his way. While she was holding the tray out she gave him the envelope, which he placed in the inside pocket of his jacket. He wondered who the card was from, but he’d open it later. He had something much more important to do now.

  “Excuse me, ladies. Mark, can I have a quick word with you?” Peter indicated with his head to a quiet space in the corner.

  The smile on the forty-five-year-old Mark’s face turned into an expression of shock and confusion when he understood what Peter had to say. “My friend, I’m shocked. Aren’t you making a hasty decision? You’re earning two million a year and bonuses that have never been less than one and half million. How can you walk away from that? What has gotten into you?”

  “Mark, you and I have been good friends and good partners. We’ve made a lot of money and we made many other people rich in the process as well. I have enough. I want to go out and enjoy the rest of my life. The rat race is over for me. “

  Mark tried to argue and change his mind, but after thirty minutes, he gave up. He knew Peter well enough to accept that he’d made his choice and nothing would change his mind. “If you are sure there’s nothing I can do to change your mind and sure that’s what you want, then let’s get the lawyers in tomorrow and finalize the paperwork.”

  Mark was looking forward to having it all for himself now.

  As Peter walked out the door he felt at least half of the weight dropped off his shoulders. The other half would fall off in the next two days when he would walk out of the offices of Levinson-Scott for the last time. Ten million dollars would be transferred into his bank account, the yield of his share of the partnership and stock portfolio.

  Back at his apartment with an espresso in his hand, he sat down. What now, Peter Scott? The laptop lifestyle while traveling around America, Canada, Europe, Asia?

  In his mind he started to make a list of the things he had to do before he could lock the front door of his apartment and hit the road. That was when he remembered the small envelope handed to him at the party. He got up and found the envelope in the jacket.

  The picture of a black bear next to a tree with a golden eagle in the background on the outside of the card triggered a sense of excitement. He didn’t immediately understand why, until he read the words inside;

  Happy Birthday!

  I hope you had a good day.

  Dave.

  PS: The best Japanese food I had lately was on a Friday night at Harajuku Gyoza in downtown Manhattan.

  The adrenaline of an unknown adventure ran through his veins. The last time he felt this excitement was when he worked for the person who sent him that birthday card – Sam Lewis, former head of the CIA.

  Let their imaginations run

  As Sarah left the room after Sinclair’s demonstration of the translation software, she had a plan taking shape in her head but wanted to discuss it with Daniel first. She told Daniel about the demonstration and then laid out her plan. “Now that the Library has become more ‘readable’ to people who don’t have knowledge of the language, I think we could get more of us involved.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Daniel asked.

  “If everyone can start looking for information related to his or her area of expertise and start grouping and indexing it, we could very quickly get a much better idea about the information in the library. In the past, we have always looked for specific topics related to some crisis, and most of the times it was. We have never worked through the information in an organized and systematic way,” Sarah explained.

  “Sarah that is why I fell in love with you within thirty minutes of meeting you. You are not only the most beautiful woman on the planet - you are also a genius!” Daniel said while taking her into his arms.

  She looked at him and smiled, “Well, if you fell in love with me within thirty minutes from meeting me, why did it take you more than a year to say it?”

  “Modesty, my dear, modesty.” Daniel laughed.

  Sarah went back to Sinclair to discuss her plan with him. She was not going to interfere with his operation. Sinclair knew what he was doing and he did it very well. The plan would only go ahead if he agreed to it. But there was no need to convince him. He stopped her before she even had the full plan on the table. “Sarah my dear, I’ve been thinking of exactly that for a while now. I was going to wait a little longer to give us the chance to load more translations, but I think the sooner we start, the better.”

  The next morning at the Steering Committee meeting, the plan was laid out and accepted by everyone with a lot of enthusiasm.

  Sinclair and Sarah called a town hall meeting where they explained in detail how important it was that everyone would throw their weight in to help with the translations. Again, the plan was met with enthusiasm from everyone. Those who had no particular area of expertise were keen to help by reading through the computer-generated translations to improve the readability. They would do that by reorganizing sentences and punctuation to fit modern usage.

  Roy, Raj and Rebecca were the first to turn up at the translation center to create and test the new process. They were each assigned a translator, and they started querying the 10th Cycle Library database with topics in their areas of expertise. They then organized the results into folders where the translation software picked up the files and produced the first draft of the translation. After that, they would review the first draft and, with the help of the translators, they would fill in the word for which there was no translation in the database yet. The last step was to pass it on to the helpers, who would try to improve the readability.

  After four hours they stopped and reviewed what they had achieved. The unanimous conclusion was that Sarah had come up with a brilliant idea. Soon it became part of everyone’s daily tasks to spend at least two hours in the translation center, a job everyone looked forward to and enjoyed.

  They were now working through the library at more than four times the speed of what Sinclair’s team could achieve before. The biggest advantage was that they were quickly beginning to get a much better understanding of the topics that were included by their ancient ancestors in this incredible fountain of knowledge.

  Sinclair’s translation team had grown from eight to forty-five adults in a week. It was necessary for Ben, Aaron and the rest of the public works department team to create more office space in the center. In a few weeks, those with the aptitude for languages had managed to learn hundreds of words and phrases. Those individuals became even more useful to Sinclair’s original team of experts.

  As the translation center started pumping information into the Nicholas Rossler Library, John Mendenhall introduced the children to the 10th Cycle treasure chest and showed them how to conduct research. It was heartwarming to see the youngsters competing to make the most exciting discoveries every day.

  Sinclair mentioned to Sarah how thrilled he was with the progress they were making and how much he enjoyed seeing the children involved in the process. “I wish my old friend Nicholas were here to see that.”

  “Sinclair, I know how you miss him. We all miss him so much. He would have been a very proud man if he were here. I’m sure he would have shared your enthusiasm about t
he children,” Sarah said with a tone of sadness in her voice.

  “You know, I am willing to bet it’s just a matter of time before one of them is going to make an important discovery. Children have a different way of looking at things than adults do. They aren’t afraid to ask questions, to dream and let their imaginations run. That’s what we need.” Sinclair said.

  Sarah and Sinclair would have been stunned if they knew how close to fulfilment his prophesy was, and even more so if they knew what impact it would have.

  Outwit and outmaneuver them

  Raj deployed the pen of silence and said, “It’s safe to talk now.”

  Rube and Sombra showed Raj all the information they were able to collect about the chips and handed it to him on a flash drive. The documents contained details about the plant in China and the security procedures followed during the shipping and distribution processes, from the factory to the warehouses and clinics where it was implanted. There was no technical information about the chips, however, as Raj hoped there might be.

  He spent the next few hours, to their great delight, training both of them in the use of the gadgets he’d brought along for them. There was no doubt about it; these guys were real geeks and they liked their new toys. There was no lack of ideas about how and where they were going to use them.

  Rube gave Raj all the information about their communications network. He explained how they were using steganography in videos and images in the Darknet, as it was known amongst those who operated on the fringes of the anonymous side of the Internet. It was not the surface web, which constituted only about twenty percent of the entire Internet and consisted of email, social media, search engines and websites that most people would use every day.

  Below the Surface Web was the Deep Web, where, if one who knew how, one could find research and government databases, along with abandoned and pay-walled websites and many other things that weren’t meant to be public.

  The Dark Web was a part of the Deep Web, where the Internet’s illicit activities resided. It was that part of the Internet where one could buy just about anything. Hacking tools, weapons, hire a hitman or escort; buy somebody’s identity, prohibited drugs, counterfeit money, fake degrees, passports, cloned debit cards and stolen items were all on sale here.

  Finding sites on the Dark Web was not easy; one had to know which online directories or websites were the gateways or have the exact IP addresses. Law enforcement agencies were well aware of the Dark Web. They were trying their best to root out the illicit part of it, but because of its size, it was a losing battle. It was in the smoke of this out-of-the-public-eye part of the Internet where Tectus operated and communicated. Raj would train a few of the people back home in the use of these methods.

  The final point on the agenda was the message from Sam Lewis, which he wanted to be conveyed to the leaders of Tectus. It was his strategy not to try to grow big or to use force at any stage. For his plan to work, it was necessary to stay below the radar at all costs. They must remain small to develop the best technological countermeasures to outwit and outmaneuver the enemy when the time was right.

  Sam was of the opinion that Tectus would play a vital role in Operation Phoenix by helping to locate secret information from government and other sources. He hoped they’d also take responsibility for creating and maintaining a secure communications network as well as helping with transporting and accommodating people in safe houses during missions.

  Rube and Sombra both knew Sam Lewis from the time when they worked on his team during the Sword of Cyrus threat. They had the greatest respect for him and would follow his guidance. They agreed to take the message to the Tectus leadership group.

  The Thornbirds

  Kelly Edwards walked into her apartment just before twelve o’clock on Friday night. As she walked in, she kicked her shoes off and started undressing. She was heading for a luxurious bubble bath and would pick up her clothes later. She opened her handbag to take out her cell phone and noticed an unfamiliar small silver compact inside. She took it out and looked at it. Whose is this? How did it get in here? Maybe the makeup girl back at the studio dropped it by accident. Wait, that can’t be, my handbag was on the table in front of me when she did my makeup and, it was closed.

  As she opened the little metal box, the blood drained from her face when she saw the picture of a silver coin with a black border and the unmistakable image of a flamingo etched onto the coin. Silver, black, flamingo – it’s impossible! How can it be? There was only one person who would have sent that to her, and she knew he was dead. At least that’s what her sources at WONN TV were saying. Kelly’s hands shook as she turned the picture around and saw the words ‘The Thornbirds 1977’. There was no mistake. Sam Lewis was alive. She knew that because he had just contacted her.

  She remembered the chaos following the announcement that Sam Lewis and his family were missing. Then had come the almost immediate retraction of the statement and the shaky explanations, followed by the deafening silence.

  Sam Lewis’ name was never mentioned again - they had strict orders never to talk of him unless they had authorization from the Supreme Council. The journalists told her that meant he was dead, and so were his family. They were wrong.

  When Sam Lewis retired, Kelly had been released from her spy duties. That was the arrangement. ‘Non-existents’ became inactive when their handlers became inactive, be it by death or retirement.

  What does this mean? Am I being reactivated? Could I be reactivated? Why? These and a thousand other thoughts kept her awake that night.

  Saturday morning at nine o’clock when she walked into the Broadway rare and used bookshop in Upper West Side, Manhattan, the old bespectacled owner immediately recognized her. “Good morning, Miss Edwards. What an honor to have you visit my humble bookshop. How may I help you, ma’am?”

  “Thank you, sir. That’s very kind of you. I was wondering if you might have the 1977 edition of ‘The Thornbirds’, by Colleen McCullough,” she asked with a big smile.

  The old man’s face lit up as he said, “Yes, Miss Edwards. In fact, I got one in a few days ago.” He pulled the book out from the bottom shelf of a small rack behind his desk.

  Back in her apartment, Kelly closed the blinds and switched on the lights. She pulled the book out of her handbag and turned each of the pages, looking for any markings. Nothing has been marked and there was no clue, but she knew she was missing something. The clue was there - she just had to find it. She paged the book again but still couldn’t find anything. She put the book down and poured herself a glass of fruit juice while she was thinking what she was missing.

  She remembered that she had a small magnifying glass somewhere, rummaged around and found it. She picked up the book again and inspected the pages again carefully, and then she found it. Every few pages there was one letter on a page that was a few shades darker than the rest. Only the magnifying glass would have picked this up. It would not have been possible to see with the naked eye, not even with her reading glasses. She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the letters. When she reached the end of the book, she looked at the words she’d written down – Connect It to a Computer Screen No Computer.

  She considered the words for a while, then got up, and walked around the room, her mind racing with more questions than answers. Connect what to a computer screen? She picked the book up again and inspected the spine, that’s when she felt a small hard object; she grabbed a sharp knife and carefully cut the spine open. Inside, neatly wrapped in a miniature Faraday bag, was the smallest USB flash drive she had ever seen. Her heart was racing when she unplugged the twenty-inch screen from her laptop and connected the little device via the micro USB cable.

  When she switched the screen on, the first thing that she saw was a password box. She had no password. Could that be somewhere in the book? She had to stop and think carefully, knowing she had to get it right or she’d never know what was on that drive. It would immediately destroy everything if she entered
the wrong password. The sender must have assumed she knew what the password was - there was no tip or hint. “Wait, maybe there is a tip,” she said to herself as she took the silver compact out of her handbag.

  She took a few sips of the fruit juice while staring at the password screen and then opened the compact, “Of course!” she whispered to herself. She entered 51lv3rBl4ckFl4m1ng0. That was the password version of the code words ‘silver black flamingo’ between Sam Lewis and her on the last mission she worked for him, while living in Europe. They were the only two people in the world who knew those code words, and if it opened the flash drive, the message had to have come from Sam.

  Harajuku Gyoza

  Peter Scott booked a table at Harajuku Gyoza. He loved Japanese food and had to try the new place before he left New York. He was led to his table while looking around the room, an old habit to always be aware of exactly what was going on in his surroundings. The place was packed and noisy. Shortly after he was seated, a youngish couple, maybe in their mid-thirties, took their seats a few tables from his. The woman had beautiful legs and a more than attractive face. The man, who was facing him, looked familiar but he couldn’t place him.

  He noticed that the man was looking at him and said something to the woman before he got up and walked over to his table. Peter was desperately trying to find a name for that face, “Apologies for the intrusion, but are you not Peter Scott? A former partner at Levinson-Scott?”

  “Yes, that’s me,” he replied, still wondering who this man was and how he knew his name.

  “My name is...” was as far as the man got before Peter said, “Of course, Owen Bell, the writer! You had my head spinning the last few minutes; I recognized your face but could not for the life of me remember your name.” Peter laughed. “However, I have to admit my head is still spinning. How did you know my name? “