The Lafayette Campaign: a Tale of Deception and Elections (Frank Adversego Thrillers Book 2)

by Updegrove, Andrew

  “I’m afraid I really can’t leave anything with you… I could go to jail forever if it came out I’d shared agency information with you.”

  “Never mind that. I’m more interested in confirming a few things in the transcript taken at your debriefing with my colleague.”

  “Okay, we can do that, but I need to be sure you’ll keep your side of the bargain, too.”

  “You needn’t worry about that. I can have you out of the country within two hours. You’ll stay there, by the way, until after the election.”

  Fetters took a mobile phone out of his pocket and set it between them on the table. “If I’m satisfied with your answers, I’ll make a call to my people, one of whom is sitting in a car down the block from your house right now.

  “At the same time, you will call your wife, and tell her whatever you want – that there’s been a family emergency, that you’ve secretly been the head of the CIA all these years, or whatever story you wish. My driver will arrive at your door while you are delivering your message, and you will tell your wife to go with him and pick up your children at their school.”

  “What if she won’t go?”

  “Your job is to make sure she does. The same escort will take them to the Dulles private aviation terminal where you will already have arrived. A chartered jet will be waiting to take you and your family, together with weather-appropriate wardrobes already aboard, to a very private Caribbean island. Once the election is over, you will be flown home again by the same means.”

  Butcher was taken aback; he hadn’t expected things to move so quickly.

  “But what about White Crow? Who’s going to protect my family after we return?”

  His host indulged himself in a crooked smile that Butcher found both disconcerting and reassuring. “I assure you that after the election your Mr. White Crow will be in no condition to threaten anyone ever again. Now tell me: how does he plan to manipulate the votes in November?”

  Butcher shifted in his chair. “As far as I know, all he knows right now is that someone used a smartphone app called Angry Indians/Angry Cavalry to manipulate the primary votes.”

  Fetters leaned forward, “You mean he doesn’t yet know how it works?”

  “I don’t believe so. I’d told him that much before your partner intercepted me at the airport, but that’s all.”

  “And this person you have in the field – this Adversego person – has he figured out how the votes have been hacked since then?”

  “He hasn’t reported in yet to say he has, but I expect he will soon. He’s figured the hardest part out already.”

  Butcher stared at the mobile phone that lay between them. What more did he have to say before Fetters would make his call?

  “Will Adversego report to someone in your office if you are not available?”

  “Well, yes. Normally he reports to someone else instead of me anyway.”

  “And what will they do with that information if they can’t reach you?”

  “There’s a formal protocol for that. My second in command has clearance to receive any information that I would, and to pass it along to my superior.”

  “Does White Crow ever communicate with your assistant, or vice versa?”

  “Oh, absolutely not.”

  “Might he, if you disappeared?”

  “Oh God, I hope not!”

  “Only fools rely on hope. Could he contact your office if he wanted to?”

  Butcher recalled how White Crow had bragged about shadowing his phone calls and email – about even knowing how to contact his boss.

  “Maybe. Yes.”

  Fetters asked no more questions. After a moment, he eased slowly back into his chair, frowning. As the silence lengthened, Butcher wondered whether his host was still aware of his presence. At last, his host reached for the phone instead of continuing the interrogation.

  Butcher fumbled in his pockets to be sure he had his own phone while Fetters spoke quietly into his. “Wait five minutes and then have the wife picked up as planned. Tell the driver downstairs to watch for Mr. Butcher at the rear exit of the hotel in three minutes.”

  Fetters stood up and offered a cold, perfunctory handshake to Butcher. “I’m sure that you have done a great service to your country by uncovering these troubling matters. Neither you nor I will communicate with each other in the future, or acknowledge that we ever met. Do you understand?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Now go spend some time in the sun with your family. I’m sure your staff will keep the trains running on time until your return.”

  At that moment, Butcher couldn’t have cared less. He closed the conference room door quietly behind him, and feverishly entered his password into his phone.

  On the other side of the conference room door, Fetters was also making a call.

  “Go collect Adversego – I don’t care what you had planned before − find out where he is and grab him right now.”

  * * *

  41

  Do I Know You?

  It had taken all day, but Frank had worked out not only the concept, but also the nitty-gritty details of how the Cavalry and Indians program pulled off the voting switch.

  Like the rest of the hacker’s work, the approach taken was not only clean and effective, but elegantly simple. In order to take control of millions of votes, all it needed to do was take advantage of the fact that the range of the wireless signal used to transmit someone’s vote was extremely short – thereby turning a security feature into a fatal security flaw.

  The crucial clue came Frank’s way when he realized that the voting app did not wait for the phone to be tapped against a voting machine before its radio turned on. Instead, it started searching for something to connect to immediately, just as the phone would search for an earpiece or a hands-free receiver in a car if its owner turned it on when its Bluetooth radio was in the “on” position. But instead of using Bluetooth, the app took advantage of a newer wireless technology that all phones also supported, called near field communications − “NFC” for short − the same signal Apple took advantage of with its ApplePay mobile payment app.

  Unlike Bluetooth, which can connect across a distance measured in feet, an NFC signal is so faint it can’t connect to anything more than an inch or so away, making it almost impossible to be intercepted, except for another app on the same device. Although a voter might think they had to tap their phone against the wireless logo to pair the two devices, actual contact wasn’t necessary at all. But it would ensure that the phone was moved close enough to the reception antenna in the voting machine for the two devices to connect, and for the voting information to transfer.

  The hacker had cleverly seized on the time lag – the one between turning on a voting app and moving the phone close enough to the voting machine − to take control. All the game app had to do was wait until it detected an NFC signal. When it did, it would impersonate the voting machine, and the voting app would transfer not only the phone owner’s intended vote to it, but the phone owner’s secure, personalized voter registration information and location as well.

  Voilà! The game app now had all the information it needed to represent the voter to the voting machine. Meanwhile, the real voting app, thinking its job was done, would shut down its radio signal.

  The game app now had plenty of time to report its location and the presidential vote the phone owner had hoped to cast. And also to receive instructions to change that vote, if necessary. When the voter did tap her phone on the voting machine, the game app would identify the phone owner, and then transmit the vote the hacker had approved. The manipulation would then be complete, with no one ever the wiser.

  Clattering happily away at his laptop, Frank wrote up a detailed report of his discovery. He’d revise it with a fresh eye in the morning, and th
en send it off to Vickie at Voldemort. Then he sat back, triumphant.

  Time to share the news. He picked up his phone to call Josette, and then thought better of it. Let her wait awhile; she could be the second person to find out. He’d tell George Marchand instead.

  “George! Glad I caught you. Say, I’ve been thinking about what you asked me do, and I’ve got some good news for you.”

  “Excellent! I’m glad you came around. Look – you caught me just walking into a meeting that’s going to run into the evening. Can I call you tonight?”

  “Or we could get together tomorrow.”

  “Better yet. What works for you?”

  “Want to say Connie’s again for coffee? At 10?”

  “Deal. See you then.”

  Frank looked at his phone. He really did want to tell someone. He dialed Josette and gave her the news.

  “But that is so wonderful! You are my hero!”

  “Well, you helped.”

  “Yes, but only with the easy parts! When can you tell me all the details? I want to know everything about how they did it.”

  “Pretty soon. I’m almost done with a complete report for Voldemort. Things always come to me when I have to explain something complicated to others, so I’m still filling in some little gaps as I write.”

  There was silence at the other end of the line.

  “You still there?”

  “You will not really send a report to Voldemort, will you?”

  “Of course I will. I know you think they’re behind this, but they’ve given me everything I’ve asked for. If they didn’t want me to figure out the hack, they could have put all sorts of obstacles in my way. Or just fired me and withdrawn access to the tools I needed.”

  “I said they were changing the polls – I think they wanted you to solve the voting hack so that they could control the election instead!”

  “Look, Josette, you’ve got to just give that up. I can’t go into the details, but I know personally that Voldemort is authorized right from the top. You might as well say that the President wants to manipulate the vote!”

  “Why not? Or his people! Don’t you remember your Mr. Nixon? And Watergate?”

  Frank did. But all he wanted to do was to report in and then resign. He’d done and had enough.

  “I’m sorry, Josette, but that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll give you a call tomorrow if you want. Just send me an email.” He rang off before she could say anything more.

  He drummed his fingers and looked at his watch. It was only 5:00. The hell with it. He’d finish the report off now.

  When he looked at his watch again it was after 7:00, but he was finished. He attached the file to an email and sent it off to Vickie. He’d solved the mystery of the vote manipulation and proven to Josette that she couldn’t manipulate him all at the same time.

  Feeling tired but satisfied, he trotted down the stairs of his apartment building and out onto the street, figuring that he’d earned himself a fancy dinner on the town. Alright, maybe not a fancy dinner, but at least a decent plate of chicken Marsala at the Italian restaurant down the street.

  After a half a block, he stuck his hands in his pockets and picked up his pace. He hadn’t bothered to put on a jacket, and it had turned cold while he had been working. Maybe he’d have a half a bottle of wine with dinner.

  Two men walking even more quickly overtook him. As they drew even, each took hold of one of his arms just above the elbow.

  “We’re going to turn around now. Keep walking, and you won’t get hurt,” the one on his left murmured.

  Frank tried to jerk his arms loose and instantly regretted it.

  “Just look straight ahead and keep walking.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Shut up.”

  What could he do? No longer cold, he was sweating profusely as they steered him back to his apartment building.

  “Unlock the door.”

  He did as he was told. Moments later, he was unlocking the door to his apartment as well.

  “Alright, where’s your computer?”

  “I probably left it in the living room.”

  They pushed him down on his couch.

  “You keep notes on anything besides this laptop?”

  “No, why?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  The one that had been doing the talking began rifling the desk in the living room, looking at any tablets or loose papers he found. Frank could hear the other one opening cupboards, drawers and closet doors in the rest of this apartment. What would they do to him when they were done? He’d seen both their faces. He had to figure something out fast.

  He eased his phone out of his pocket while the intruder was ransacking his desk and dropped it between his legs. He placed his thumb on the biosensor and tried not to be obvious as he looked for the phone’s screen to change.

  So far, so good. The man at the desk was reading some papers he’d found. Frank turned on his running app and set it to run in the background.

  It was a while before Frank felt he could glance at his phone again, because the man was now moving around the room, poking through the piles of material that had accumulated on the window sills and book shelves. When he returned to the desk with a stack of junk to sort through, Frank hit a speed dial button. He gave it long enough to connect and then spoke up.

  “What are you looking for?”

  The man didn’t look up. “For a smart guy, you’re a pretty slow learner, aren’t you? Now shut up.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  This time the man turned around.

  “Anyone ever held your arms behind your back while another guy worked you over?”

  “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point.”

  The other man reentered the room.

  “You done?”

  “Yeah, nothing here.”

  “Same. Okay, Adversego, time to go.”

  Damn! Frank thought. How was he going to get the phone back into his pocket? He tried to move one hand nonchalantly under his leg to reach for it.

  “I said get up – now move it.”

  With his hand on the phone, he stood up. But no luck: the other man noticed as he moved it towards his pocket. Frank jabbed his thumb furiously around on the face of the phone, trying to disconnect the call so they wouldn’t think to trace it.

  “What’s that in your hand?”

  “Just my phone.”

  “You won’t need that where you’re going. Give it to me.”

  Frank was ready for that command, and willingly handed the phone over. “I may not need it, but you will.”

  The men looked at each other. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know that laptop you’re so interested in? It’s just a paperweight if you can’t get past the security settings.”

  “So? What’s your password?”

  “You’ll have to ask my phone.”

  “Cut the crap, Adversego.”

  “All right. Hand me the phone so I can unlock it again.”

  His captor paused, but then did so. “I want to know everything you’re going to do before you do it, understand? Otherwise you’re on the floor.”

  “Understood. You see this icon here? I’m just going to push it. When I do, a couple of boxes are going to open. Okay?”

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  “So there’s the boxes, see? Now I’m going to enter my regular password, okay?” The man nodded.

  “There – now what do you see?”

  “A number. So?”

  “So you need that number, as well as my password, to access any of the programs on the computer.”

  “Thanks, Adversego. Now that we’ve got th
e number, you can leave the phone here.”

  “Really? What’s the number?”

  The man looked down at the phone.

  “Hey – it just changed.”

  Frank handed him the phone. “That’s right. And it will keep changing every 20 seconds until the battery runs out. So that’s why you need the phone.”

  The man looked mildly impressed.

  “Okay.” He dropped the phone in his pocket. “Now move it.”

  * * *

  George turned his phone on as he walked to his car the next morning. As he unlocked the door, he heard it chirp.

  Settling in to the driver’s seat, he glanced at his phone to see who had left messages. One of them read, “Frank Adversego has sent you a running invitation.”

  A what? He’d never gone on a run with Frank before. He turned out of his driveway and on to his suburban street. Maybe the phone message would explain the text one. He called up his messages and held the phone to his ear.

  A few seconds later, his car drifted to the curb and stopped.

  * * *

  Later the same day, Marchand was walking down the street with an understandably distraught Marla.

  “Can you think of anything else that might help us figure out who would want to kidnap your father?”

  “I think I’ve told you everything I can remember him saying that could possibly relate to this. I’ll keep trying, but that’s it for now.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say we have nothing to work with, but I wish we had more. What do you know about this Josette person?”

  “Maybe not as much as there is to know, but here goes.”

  George frowned as he listened. Should he believe the story Josette had told Frank? If so, how much more was there to it than Marla, or even Frank, knew?

  He hadn’t made up his mind on either of those points by the time Marla had once again exhausted her recollections.

  “Could you introduce me to her? If I contact her out of the blue she’ll have no reason to trust me.”