by L C Lang
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
Matt took the CD out of the computer, and then walked out of the office, and down the hallway. The FBI had the best computer specialists. They can capture pictures off a security tape. He was sure it was probably easy; he just didn’t know how to do it.
Half an hour later, Matt had the thirteen pictures in his hand.
They had just gotten back to their office when Matt’s office phone rang. He answered, and then listened for a moment. He thanked the caller, hung up the phone and looked over at Colin.
“That was Petersen. He wants to see us now. In the conference room.” He shook his head. “Something is going on. The tone in his voice tells me something is wrong. So, until we find out what is going on, we won’t mention the security tape.” Colin nodded. Matt tucked the pictures inside a file folder and put the CD in his desk drawer. He grabbed a notepad and they walked out to the hallway.
The conference room was located down the hallway. It was one of the smaller one’s, used mostly for small group staff meetings and interviews. The door was slightly open when they got there. Matt pushed the door open and they walked in. Just inside the door, they both came to a stop. Petersen was sitting at one end of the eight-foot oval oak table. He nodded towards to the right side of the table. Also in the room were two men in suits. Matt didn’t know who the men were. He moved to his right and he and Colin sat down opposite the two men.
The man directly across from Matt was tall; about five foot eleven, had short cut dark brown hair and looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had an expressionless look on his face. Only his glaring cold looking eyes moved. The other man had a similar look on his face, except he was about five years younger, was a bit shorter and had short cut blonde hair. Both were wearing black suits, white shirts and black ties. They were sitting straight as ramrods, both staring back at them. No indication of who they are, or why they are here. Matt wasn’t getting a good feeling.
Peterson started the conversation. “Matt and Colin, I want to introduce you to Agents Michael Bartholomew and Henry Watkins. They are both with the CIA. These are my agents, Matt Palmer and Colin McWilliams.”
Matt looked at Petersen. “Is the CIA now in on the case?”
Petersen glanced at the two men, and then turned to Matt. “Yes, and no. There has been a development.”
He narrowed his eyes at him. “What kind of a development?”
“The two bodies you found on flight 3351 have been identified.”
Matt was getting a knot in his stomach. “Who are they?”
Petersen looked at the two CIA agents. “You want to tell them?” The man across from Matt nodded. He was obviously the senior partner.
“Their names are James Mitchell and Michael Sawyer. They are both operations managers.”
“Operation managers? What’s that?”
“Plainly put, we gather information for national security.”
Better yet, they are agents and probably spies, Matt thought. “Okay, so what were they doing in England? Were they partners?”
Bartholomew nodded. “Yes, they were. They were following up on a tip our office got. Seems someone has been hacking into computer systems in the U.S. from England, as well as systems in England. We traced where it was coming from and then went to find them. We had gotten a tip where they were.”
“What kind of systems?”
“Major systems. Like power grids, nuclear plants, that sort of thing. We have been trying to find them for quite a while. When we would finally locate where they were, they moved.”
“They?”
He nodded. “Yes, they. We aren’t sure how many, but we think about five or six. We believe two people are doing the hacking. The last report we got of their activities, two systems were being compromised at the same time, which means there were two people doing the hacking simultaneously.”
“So what happened last week?”
He nodded again. “On previous occasions, we had gotten leads on where they were. They had also been hacking into local English banks and we were able to track them through the bank’s system. Only every time we found the location, they had moved. So, this time, we sent the two of our agents to check and make sure they were actually there.”
“What happened?”
“We got a call from Jim. He said they had found them at the location. He said there were two people inside the house, a man and a woman. The man was on the computer at the time. About the same time, there was activity going on in a banking database that we were monitoring. This was the second time they were hacking into the local banking company’s computer system, transferring money to an offshore account. So, we knew we had found them. We told them to sit tight for a few minutes and watch the place to make sure they didn’t leave. Then four of us took off for the location. The plan was to do a raid in force to make sure none of them left, since we had failed several times before.”
“What happened when you got there?”
He shrugged. “No one was there. There was no one inside the house and we couldn’t find either Jim or Michael.”
“What do you think happened?”
“Even though they only saw two people, we believe the whole group was there. They had to have seen Michael and Jim go back to their car. We found their car half a block away, but only found their prints. And their blood.”
“From when they were shot?”
Bartholomew nodded. “Yes. Looked like the shooter came to the passenger side of the car and shot them both.’
Matt nodded. “That’s what we figured when we saw their injuries. What I don’t understand was why they would jump them. Why not just take off again?”
“Well, one possible reason is they probably knew we were getting close. The last two places they lived at, they left just before we got there.”
“So when did this take place?”
“Last Thursday.”
“Find anything incriminating in the house?”
He shook his head. “No. The house was a rental. There was hardly anything inside. Very little furniture. We checked with the owners and they gave us the names of the renters, but they weren’t the names we knew them to be. They have been using bogus names everywhere they moved to.”
“So, this took place last Thursday. What time?”
“The last time we heard from Jim and Michael was about eight o’clock Thursday evening.”
Matt thought for a moment. “Okay. So they were killed about eight o’clock Thursday evening. Then the flight leaves at nine thirty the next morning. We checked the plane Saturday afternoon. What time frame did the coroner give?”
This time Watkins answered the question. He opened a file in front of him.
“According to the coroner, they had been dead about two days. The cargo area was cooler, so he said it could have been longer, but we doubt it. The time frame fits with what we know the situation was.”
Matt nodded. “Okay, I guess my next question is if you have any identification on any of these hackers?”
“Of the group, only the man and woman are the hackers,” Bartholomew said. “We can identify both of them. They are always together. I think there is a romantic relationship between them. Four others have been seen at various times, but we’re not sure exactly what they do.”
“Have you actually seen them?”
He shook his head. “No, I haven’t. They were described to us by various agents who have seen them and people who rented out the apartments to them.”
“What does the woman look like?”
“Late twenties, blonde, good looking.”
Matt shook his head. “Well, that describes half the women in New York City. Any distinguishing marks?”
Bartholomew nodded. “Yeah, she has an earring in her right eyebrow.”
Matt dropped his shoulders, and then glanced over at Colin, who raised his eyebrows and nodded.
“What’s going on?” Petersen asked.
Opening the file folder, Matt shu
ffled through the photos until he found the one he was looking for. He looked at the photo for a moment, and then handed it to Petersen. Petersen’s mouth dropped open. He handed the photo to Bartholomew. Watkins leaned over to see.
Bartholomew looked up at Matt. “Where did you get this?”
Matt looked at Petersen. “We were coming to tell you about this.” He looked at Bartholomew. “Do you know about flight 3351?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We heard it had disappeared. The coroner’s office told us they were on the plane. Other than that, nothing else. Where exactly did they find the plane?”
Matt figured they knew more than what they were telling. Still, since they had picked up one photograph, then they did know more.
“The plane was found in the far eastern part of Quebec Province, Canada. No one saw the plane come in. It is a remote airport.”
Bartholomew raised his eyebrows. “How can they land a plane on a remote airport? Those usually only have short runways for smaller planes.”
Matt nodded. “Yes, most times that is the case. However, this airport has a runway length of 4,000 feet.”
“That’s a long runway. How could anyone know about it?”
Matt shrugged. “That is a good question. The plane held no clues, no baggage and no food. We don’t even know how they got out of there or which way they headed.”
Bartholomew shook his head. “You found nothing on the plane?”
“No, not really. There were no fingerprints, no blood splatter, no indication on how the flight crew was subdued. The only thing we did find were several boxes that just had shredded paper inside and two larger empty boxes we assume the bodies were in. Someone had gone down into the baggage area to take the bodies out. Why they did that, I have no clue. A forensics crew went in after the plane landed here, but they didn’t find any more than we did. And no prints came off the boxes. I have a couple of agents working on the shredded paper, but I doubt they will find anything.”
“How many people were on the plane?” Bartholomew asked.
“Seven crew members and six passengers. A one hundred member tour group canceled last minute.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Who was the tour group?”
“Well, that’s the problem. The name is Elite England Tours, but there is no such organization.”
“That sounds suspicious. Where is the plane now?”
“We requested the airline lock it up and let no one near it or to go inside. It is inside a hangar right now. But, someone leaked the information to the press and they are all over it.”
Bartholomew nodded. “There were no prints at all?”
Matt shook his head. “No, none. We had a seating chart, so we knew where the passengers were supposed to be sitting, but after we found the bodies, we dusted everything. We also used Luminol in the cockpit, but found no traces of blood there either. There weren’t even any fingerprints of the pilot and first officer. My guess is they wiped everything clean. The only thing we don’t know is how the crew was overpowered.”
“Are you sure it was all of the passengers that were responsible for the plane being hijacked?”
Matt looked at him. Was he kidding? It was obvious Bartholomew knew at least one of the passengers, so he had to have known the answer to that.
“Well, since you know who the picture you are holding is, then I would say yes.”
Bartholomew ignored the statement. “Where did you get the photographs?”
“We got the security tape from Heathrow this morning and printed out the pictures from it.”
The CIA agent said nothing. Then the two agents looked at each of the photographs again. They pulled out one photograph, laid it on the table, facing it towards Matt and Colin.
“This one is Michael Whitcomb. He has a warrant for terrorist activities in the U.S.”
“Terrorist activities?” Petersen asked.
Bartholomew looked at Petersen and nodded. “Yeah. About a year and a half ago, he hacked into a power grid in Ohio. He put thousands of people out of electricity for twelve hours.”
Matt nodded. “Yes, I remember that.”
Bartholomew pointed to the photograph. “This is the guy who did it. The company worked many long hours of overtime to find who was behind it. Unfortunately, he took off before they identified him and flew to England. He started hacking again once he got there. It took us a while before we found him. We’ve been chasing him ever since.”
“Yeah, we have him on a list to find too,” Matt said. He thought for a moment, leaned back in his chair, and then looked at Petersen. “We have no idea where they went after they got off the plane. They might have flown out on a smaller plane or someone met them and they drove out. We just don’t know. We don’t even know where they went. But, if Whitcomb is into hacking, then it doesn’t make any difference where he is. As long as he has a computer, he can hack into anything wherever he is. He probably already has a computer with him. What I am having a problem with, is the fact that he went to all this trouble to get out of England, and he took the flight crew with him. He could be in the U.S., or somewhere in Canada. I think we have a real problem here.”
Petersen nodded. “Yes, we do. You are right. He could be anywhere. I am almost betting he is back in the U.S.”
“That could very well be,” Matt said. “The question is, where is he?. He could be anywhere.”
Bartholomew nodded. “At least one other of the group we know who also does hacking is the woman. From what we’ve been able to determine, Whitcomb has been teaching her..” He handed Matt the girl’s photograph.
Matt took the photo and looked at the picture again. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Lisa Morrison.”
“Does she have a record?”
Bartholomew shook his head. “No, not that we’ve been able to find.”
Matt wrote down the woman’s name below the man’s name he had also written down. Whitcomb had caused damage here, had gone to England and done the same thing. Chances were good that Whitcomb was going to be at it again. And if he was back in the U.S., then they had to find him. Soon.
“If the girl is working with Whitcomb, then that means she could be as dangerous at hacking as he is.”
Bartholomew nodded. “Yes. It doubles the problem.”
“I haven’t heard of any systems that are being compromised, but if he is doing something like he did the last time, then we won’t know about it until it is too late.” Matt shook his head. The situation was getting worse.
How are they going to find them?
CHAPTER TWENTY
MONDAY MORNING
WASHINGTON, DC
Glen Harper banged open the door to the office. Patty Howard, Fitzpatrick’s secretary, jumped as the door hit the wall. Harper was not happy. He approached her desk.
“Where is he?”
“Mr. Fitzpatrick is in his office. One moment and I’ll announce you.”
“Forget it. I’ll announce myself.” He started moving away from her desk.
Patty stood up. “But, Mr. Harper…,” she began. Harper stopped and glared at her. She sat back down, and then watched as he walked to Fitzpatrick’s office door, opened it and slammed the door behind him. She blew out her breath. This is going to be a loud one, she thought.
Fitzpatrick heard Harper before he saw him. He watched as Glen Harper walked in and slammed the door closed. He bit his lower lip to suppress a smile. There was no question Harper had seen the six o’clock news last night. The whole ten minute spread on what he had been doing. He had barely gotten in this morning when his phone started ringing. Several of his constituents called to congratulate him. They knew what Harper had been doing, but they hadn’t gotten the shaft as much as Fitzpatrick had, so they were glad he had gotten back at Harper. Fitzpatrick was thrilled to be getting the credit he deserved. He was about to get more.
Harper now stood in front of his desk. His face was flushed a bright red and his fists were clenched. Fitzpatrick already kn
ew what Harper was going to say, and while it wasn’t going to be good, he could withstand it. No way would Harper be able to take credit from him anymore. Actually, he was going to enjoy this.
“What do you think you are doing?”
Fitzpatrick shrugged and shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“The trip to Texas.”
He nodded. “Yes, I made the trip to Texas just like I said I would.”
Harper narrowed his eyes at him. “Why did you have a news crew tailing you?”
Fitzpatrick nodded. “I think the public has the right to see what is being done, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do. But, I should be the one to tell it, not you.”
Fitzpatrick crossed his arms across his chest. “Really? Then why didn’t you go down to Texas after the hurricane hit? As I remember, you never went down to Texas to assess the situation and be a part of the help to the people in the area. You stayed safe here in Washington and bragged about what you were doing, which was actually nothing.”
Harper gritted his teeth. Fitzpatrick thought the man was going to have a heart attack. This is sure going to set off the rest of his day, he thought. Exactly what Fitzpatrick wanted.
“Don’t get cocky. I am the Administrator of FEMA. It is my job to work from here.”
Fitzpatrick leaned forward, placing his arms on his desk. “Really? Other Administrators I have worked with have gone to disaster sites with the team. They have gone to assess the situation themselves and then they worked with our team and the local groups and got things organized. All you ever did was watch the coverage on CNN. You have no idea what the affected people lived through, saw the damage and destruction yourself or gotten actively involved. So, is it your job to take credit for my ideas and work I have done, when you weren’t even involved?” He was trying hard to keep his voice even and calm.
“Of course I was involved.”
“No, all you did was take my reports. I have heard you read them to the press, almost verbatim to what I gave you. You let me give you my ideas and then you claimed them as yours. There was never a discussion on your part. All of the rest of us worked together to make sure everything was done. We went by the rules, you didn’t. So, I wanted the public to see exactly who was doing the work, who was behind all of this. It sure wasn’t you. And now the people know this.”
