Michael raised his eyebrows. Knowledge of the computer industry wasn’t one of his strong points, despite having been married to Colette. But he certainly knew of the two companies his companions had worked for and the scale of their reputations. It certainly explained how they were able to take Colette’s work and use it so readily.
“You’d have liked Colette,” Michael said quietly, with a sense of pride. “Her ideals and yours aren’t a million miles apart.”
An expression of doubt crossed Jones’ face and Michael knew what he was thinking, even without him having to say it. How could she have sympathised with their cause when she worked for one of the companies the four men saw as their natural enemy?
“Colette was very much opposed to the banning of access to the internet in this country. Even to the point that she gave serious consideration as to whether she could remain in her current job. But then, when the opportunity for her company to bid for its replacement came along she saw it as a means to right the wrong she thought had been committed. Believe me, if SW Technologies had won the tender for running UKCitizensNet it would be a very different beast to what SemComNet developed. Information wouldn’t have been censored and restricted. Colette would have made sure of that.”
Jones raised his eyebrows involuntarily, a look of doubt crossing his face as he tried to make his reply as tactful as possible.
“Look Michael, I don’t doubt your wife’s motives. I’m sure she was ‘trying to do the right thing’ with the SW Technologies tender bid. But this was a dirty tender from the start. Even if it hadn’t been contrived to give the contract to SemComNet, her company could have been corrupted. Everyone has a price.”
Michael nodded knowingly, wondering what Trevellion and SemComNet’s price had been.
“So what about the others?” he asked, dismissing the thought, and looking in Green’s direction before turning to Jones.
“Well, Green worked for one of the big Japanese banks whose name I can’t pronounce, up in London. He was some sort of financial security analyst. Whatever the bloody hell that is. He did try and explain once before I fell asleep. All I know is he’s the best hacker I’ve ever come across. But I’m guessing he didn’t learn that skill in high finance.”
“And Smith?”
“Smith is a chemist by trade and was working for one of the big pharma companies. Roche or GSK. I can’t remember which one. Anyway, he’s pretty nifty with any sort of chemical as well as being the biggest computing bore you can possibly imagine.”
Jones and Brown laughed at their own private joke. Michael pointed an accusing finger at Brown opposite.
“What, more than you, with your computing conspiracy theories?”
Brown’s expressions dropped whilst Jones laughed even harder.
“Well, I was right, wasn’t I?” he replied indignantly.
Regaining his composure, Jones continued more sombrely.
“Smith was married, but she left him after a few years. Probably for being so bloody boring I shouldn’t wonder. But they did have a daughter together. She’d be about five now I suppose. He hasn’t seen her since he’s been hiding. Her name’s Charlotte.”
“Good for him,” Michael said quietly, trying to remember what it felt like to hold Clare. But as hard as he tried he couldn’t quite place the feeling. “Let’s hope one day he can see her again and tell her who he really is.”
The three men nodded, contemplating their own predicaments. Would any of them ever hold a loved one again? Or enjoy a beer with friends? Or just enjoy the freedom to be able to travel anywhere they wanted without the fear that their name and passport would quickly get them arrested.
Images of the Antiguan coastline, the perfect blue sea, and a little glass-bottomed boat flooded Michael’s thoughts. Would he ever feel that again? He knew he wouldn’t with Colette or Clare. All he had now were their memories. And he needed to hold onto them. But until he knew why they’d been taken from him he knew he’d never be able to truly enjoy them again.
Rising from his seat as the images threatened to overwhelm him he turned in the direction of the unused bed at the far end of the mobile home.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to go to bed.”
And in an instant he was gone.
Jones and Brown stared, not uttering a word as they let him go. Although unspoken, both men were left grappling with the same terrible question. A question they feared they already knew the answer to.
Would any of them ever get back what they’d lost?
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
The door slid silently open and Trevellion exited the elevator. Grimacing, he pulled his expensive suit jacket tighter across his chest and proceeded in the direction of Sebastian Tate’s office.
He knew the route well, he’d been here many times for various clandestine meetings. And each time he returned this part of the building was always as silent as a tomb. Considering the importance of what was decided behind the doors he passed as he strode up the corridor, there was always a calm about the approach. A calm that was at odds with what CODEX was undertaking.
Trevellion cast a glance at his watch as he reached Sebastian Tate’s door and stopped. He hated being summoned to see Tate at the best of times. But especially when there were vital issues at SemComNet needing his immediate attention - issues such as Michael Robertson and his four accomplices. Despite the fact Tate wanted to discuss this with him, his time would be more usefully spent finding a solution to the problem rather than just talking about it.
A wry smile crossed his face. That was government bureaucracy for you he thought, knocking on Tate’s office door before entering.
Looking up over the top of his glasses the silver-haired Tate motioned to Trevellion to take a seat. He didn’t speak as finished reading the confidential document SemComNet had sent him, another inclusion for CODEX file OP09/ST.
There was no computer on his leather upholstered desk, only a set of hard-copy papers for him to read and annotate. The rest of his department might be at the cutting-edge of technology but he still preferred to read the written word from paper rather than a screen. With all he knew about SemComNet and the technological possibilities UKCitizensNet amongst other things provided, he trusted the integrity of a paper document. There were no secrets embedded here, no usage monitoring or targeted customised announcements. This was good old-fashioned words. The only surprise came in the content itself, not the way it was delivered.
“Vincent, good of you to come,” he finally said, sliding the SemComNet document back into its folder.
Trevellion didn’t reply as he tried to read Sebastian Tate’s expression. He knew the small talk would end there.
“Congratulations on delivering Phase II of the project. Sir Donald’s demise was very timely. Needless to say, it was well received by the Prime Minister and Secretary of State, as was your inevitable promotion. It keeps things more on less on schedule, which is of course what they want to see. The question remains though as to whether the app is sufficiently developed to deliver Phase III within its very tight window of opportunity? Do we have success on that front yet?”
Tate placed the hard copy file down on his desk.
“Wainwright and his team are working on the wireless deployment issues as we speak. There’s still a problem with the wireless handlers and that’s making the wireless network unreliable. The regional hubs are also being upgraded and diagnostic testing is currently taking place to….”
“Spare me the technical detail, dear boy, that’s your domain not mine. However, I presume we no longer need the data in Robertson’s possession?”
Trevellion’s expression crinkled into a frown at the mention of the continuing irritation Michael Robertson had become.
“On the contrary. We need it more than ever. The last intelligence report from your department stated Robertson managed to lose his tail in London. The only reason he would have known he was being watched was if our friends had warned him.”
> “So we get rid of him.”
“I believe he sought to lose your man because he was meeting Brown and the others. It’s a stone cold certainty they’ll now have whatever information Robertson had. And let’s not forget who these men are - experienced hardware and software developers.”
A frown slid across Tate’s ageing features.
“If our assumptions are correct Robertson’s information might be the missing component to our wireless deployment problem. Let’s not forget the importance of that in relation to Phase III.”
“I thought you said Wainwright and his team were working on these issues already?
Tate’s top lip curled in annoyance at his lack of technical understanding that was giving Trevellion the upper hand in their conversation.
“Our programmers seem to have solved the deployment problem on the standard network. But they’re not as advanced on the wireless side. That is precisely why Robertson’s data is potentially so vital to us. We cannot let up in trying to get hold of it.”
Tate looked thoughtful, pondering the continuing involvement of Robertson’s able accomplices. Trevellion sensed what he was thinking.
“We cannot underestimate these four men and others like them. They’ve been on the run for two years. What better ‘fuck you’ towards us would there be than to launch a version of the app to create havoc on UKCitizensNet. Or to aim the app specifically at us with the same purpose as we wish to use it? If they have the wireless solution before us we’re potentially not safe anywhere. You’d better hope government IP addresses are sufficiently secure and not common knowledge.”
“They couldn’t get to us,” Tate snapped a little incredulously. “Could they?”
“The simple fact is we need to get hold of whatever they’ve developed from Colette Robertson’s files. After all they may have improved upon it. These are outstanding programmers after all. In different circumstances we would probably have recruited them to SemComNet.”
“What if they’ve done nothing with the files and aren’t planning to launch anything?”
“Oh, they’ll be planning something, trust me. I would if I was them.”
“So what do you want to do about it?”
“We target Michael Robertson. He’s the most vulnerable. The other four will have acclimatised to life on the run. Robertson still won’t quite believe what’s happening to him. He’s the weak link amongst them.”
Tate nodded in agreement, running his finger over SemComNet’s report in front of him.
“How exactly? Efforts so far don’t seem to have been that productive, do they?”
“I think the little persuasion from the ANNA project will soon prove to be effective. She has implicated me for the deaths of his wife and daughter.”
Tate’s eyebrows narrowed a little, his forehead creasing in mild surprise as he failed to see the direction Trevellion’s thoughts were taking.
“Is that wise?”
“By implicating me, Robertson will undoubtedly want to come after me. What’s the easiest way to do that? Launch the app against me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“ANNA will be quite persuasive. Robertson will be easy to guide and manipulate. We then drop the security encryption on UKCitizensNet for a short period. Brown and the others will doubtless be looking for a way to hack into UKCitizensNet. So, we give it to them on a plate. The impression will be that they’ve got full access to the UKCitizensNet system. In reality they’ll be in a secure area, much like an extranet. The moment the app infiltrates the system we restore full encryption and firewall security. We then simply isolate the app and get our hands on what they’ve developed from those files.”
Tate’s top lip curled into a virtual sneer as he sat forward slightly in his chair.
“But my dear Vincent, is not the purpose of the app that it is undetectable and as such unstoppable once it has been launched at its target? Are we not compromising the integrity of the UKCitizensNet system with this approach and, less importantly, your own personal safety if you’re a target?”
“Your concern for my welfare is touching.”
Trevellion knew that, like everyone else involved in this CODEX project, he too was expendable in the right circumstances despite his position.
“You forget, we know what we’re looking for. We’ve invested enormous R&D efforts in developing the app ourselves in a safe environment. We simply let the app access a totally secure area at an isolated IP address so none of the rest of the network is compromised.”
Tate thought for a moment, mulling over every aspect of Trevellion’s plan.
“Alright, do it. But we can’t afford any mistakes.”
Trevellion nodded confidently.
“There won’t be any mistakes. And the other delightful part of this plan is the moment they upload a file from their equipment into UKCitizensNet we can run a satellite IP trace on exactly where the fuck they are.”
Tate nodded, but his expression remained dour and thoughtful.
“It occurs to me though that if this group yields no useful information we are still left with deployment problems of the app that won’t have been overcome. Phase III is rapidly approaching us. How long are you prepared to give your programmers to remedy this? Delays will not be easy to explain away to the Prime Minster and Secretary of State.”
“The issue is time, not knowledge. Our R&D team will sort out the problem.”
“But Vincent, time is of the essence if the target for Phase III is to be removed. There will not be another window of opportunity we can exploit in such a way.”
Trevellion nodded.
“I have the R&D team on constant shifts around the clock, seven days a week until the problem is sorted. It would obviously be helpful if any knowledge Robertson and his accomplices have can expedite the process. But if they don’t, we’ll resolve the issue anyway and take care of this group so the timetable is unaffected.”
Tate removed his glasses and began to polish the lenses with his tie again.
“This may be a CODEX project, but I have no taste for your methods of ‘taking care’ of things. Nor do I have any interest in how you do it. All I want is assurance that the job is done tidily and that nothing leads back to the project.”
“Don’t worry, we have a scenario worked up that will give Michael Robertson nowhere to run. And believe me, no-one will hide him. Thanks to UKCitizensNet, his face will be everywhere. He’ll be the most well known man in the country.”
Tate nodded, replacing his glasses.
“Any resources you need from my department are at your disposal. Don’t disappoint me.”
Trevellion’s expression tightened, his thin lips pursing slightly at the veiled threat. He could think of another target that would be worth testing the app on. But for the time being he didn’t need Sebastian Tate as his enemy.
Looking away from Trevellion’s gaze, Tate re-opened the file in front of him. Sliding the report from the file he quickly glanced down before looking back at Trevellion.
“So, let’s talk about the Phase III target.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
“Shut that bloody curtain,” a voice said from behind him.
It was Brown. Turning to face him the blackout curtain slipped from Michael’s hand and back into its original position.
“Those curtains are there for a reason Michael. So they can’t find us. And so any reconnaissance aircraft at night don’t see any lights coming from this site.”
Michael’s thoughts reverted briefly back to the plane he’d seen taking off from nearby Farnborough airport minutes earlier.
Surely they couldn’t have seen anything on their takeoff?
“What about infra-red sensors that can detect heat? Wouldn’t they be able to spot us?” he asked, although not really wanting to know they could be located in this way.
Brown half-smiled, adjusting the blackout curtain, making sure it was correctly in place.
“Ordinarily that would
be true. But we’ve setup our own home-made atmospheric device that disrupts temperature readings so they can’t lock onto us. Any decent army will have been using similar devices for years. Although they’ll have paid millions for the technology. Ignorant bloody cretins.”
Before Brown could continue, explaining just how they had so inexpensively replicated army devices there was a loud shuffling from the other end of the mobile home. Green was sitting in front of a bank of terminals. Muttering inaudibly under his breath, he shuffled sideways in his seat. His head bobbed up and down and from side to side as he looked rapidly from one screen to another.
“What is it?” Michael asked, approaching where Green was working.
“Quiet,” Green hissed without looking up. “Do not touch a fucking thing. In fact do not move.”
Stopping in his tracks Michael looked at the scrolling code moving across the screens in front of him.
Disturbed by the commotion Jones and Smith appeared from the other end of the mobile home and stood with Brown behind where Michael had stopped. What seemed like endless moments passed as they all held their breath.
Finally, Green stopped bobbing from side to side. His gaze settled on one screen just above where he sat.
“Look, there” he said, his voice quivering with excitement. “Can you see it?”
Brown, Jones and Smith all barged past Michael and congregated around Green, looking to where he was pointing. The code on the screen had stopped scrolling, and a cursor flashed silently on the command line.
“Fuck me, I think we’ve done it,” Jones said finally.
Michael watched as the four men went into techno-babble overload, excitedly pointing at various parts of the screen they were looking at. The nervous knot in his stomach, there since he’d first met Brown, was tightening. A feeling of slight nausea began welling up.
“What is it?” he finally managed to say. “What have you done?”
Brown was the first to turn, a barely suppressed smile on his gaunt features.
The Codex File (2012) Page 20
