[Max Fend 01.0] Glidepath

by Andrew Watts

  Then he pulled back on the stick ever so slightly, and the Cirrus was airborne. It was a smooth climb out. A little left stick and they were headed toward the south horizon.

  “Can you hear me okay?” Max asked Renee over their pilot headsets.

  They were flying southeast now, sitting side by side in the cockpit, green pastures and farmland beneath them. Renee was on her laptop, using her satellite connection to get work done while they traveled.

  “I can hear you fine. I’m reading an article on you. On your father, actually. But it mentions you. It’s a write-up about the Fend 100, and a profile on him.”

  Max looked over at her and then back out the windscreen of the aircraft.

  She quoted, “While Charles Fend is known as a pioneer in the aviation world, his son Max has yet to make his mark. Max Fend has lived in the lap of luxury in the South of France for the past decade. He is best known for throwing decadent parties at his villa in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, located in a region of France known as an exclusive vacation spot for the ultra-rich. He often hosted celebrities and the wealthy elite from around the globe. Controversy erupted last year when two men were found dead on the premises. While rumors swirled regarding Max Fend’s connection to the crimes, he was never charged, and was reportedly out of the country when the deaths occurred.”

  Renee looked at Max again. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

  “I’ve promised you honesty. Ask me anything.”

  “Did you kill those two men?”

  The drone of the plane engine was the only sound for a few seconds.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why?”

  “We had a disagreement.”

  “Over what?”

  “How to treat a lady.” Max glanced at her. “Have you flown in a small plane like this before?”

  Renee frowned at the obvious change of subject. “Actually, yes. In Canada. When I was younger, my family spent a lot of time on the West Coast. North of Vancouver. Have you been there?”

  “Yes, actually. It’s quite beautiful. Lots of great hiking and fishing.”

  “Yeah. My father has a cabin there. It’s pretty remote, so sometimes we would get there by float plane. That was a lot of fun.”

  “A float plane, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Always wanted to try that. This one can’t land on water, but it does have its own parachute.”

  Renee made a face. “Are you messing with me?”

  “No, I swear.” Max pointed up at the ceiling. A black oval covering with a bright red and white warning label was above them.

  “What is that?” Renee was reading it now. “Oh my. You are serious. This plane actually has a parachute?”

  “I figured with all of the trouble I get into on the ground, it’s best that I take the proper precautions when I’m in the air.”

  She smiled at that. “Have you ever used it?”

  “The parachute? No. You would only use it in a dire emergency. But I must admit, I’ve always wanted to try it. It has an exceptional safety record.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, let’s just land normally.”

  Max laughed. “Not a problem, my dear.”

  The aircraft touched down on a tiny runway near the shores of southern Georgia. Jekyll Island. The airport was nothing more than a long strip of black pavement, with a few Cessnas parked next to a small shack.

  The island was part marshland, part golf course. On a secluded strip of beach were a scattering of vacation homes, one of which Max owned.

  A rental agent was waiting for them with a car. Max had had Renee order it while they were flying. They’d provided false information and paid using one of Max’s prepaid cards. The rental agent tried to make small talk in the airport parking lot, but they kept it to a minimum.

  They stopped at a small grocery store and picked up some essentials, then drove to Max’s property. The house didn’t look like much, but it was quaint. A dated two-bedroom ranch underneath a low-hanging weeping willow. More sand than grass in the yard. A few leaning palm trees.

  Max said, “The view in back gets better.”

  It certainly did. While the house was old and beat up out front, the backyard was a narrow sandy passage right down to the beach. Rows of perfect tube waves rolled into the shore. It was mid-afternoon, and the sky was a deep blue. After throwing their bags in separate bedrooms, they went outside and sat on two wooden beach chairs, facing the water.

  Max cracked open two beers and handed one to Renee. He stared off towards the Georgia shore, a few hundred yards away, a cool sea breeze rustling the trees in the yard.

  “I got this place a few years ago,” Max said. “I was home for a month, visiting my father, and I wanted somewhere I could go to get away from it all.”

  “Do you buy a lot of property on a whim?”

  “It’s relaxing here. The neighbors are far enough away that we don’t see each other. The beach is relatively undiscovered. And most of the year, the weather is warm.”

  “It’s very nice.” Renee opened her laptop and began typing. Without looking up, she said, “Why did you start down that path?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your father being who he was, you could have had any life you wanted. But you chose to be in the intelligence world. Why?”

  “Honestly? Probably because it sounded exciting. Like an adventure.”

  “And was it?”

  “I think the hope of an adventure is what attracts a lot of us at first. But you find out pretty quick that it’s not like they portray it in the movies.”

  “What is it like?”

  “You have to pretend a lot. Some might call it acting. And you have to document and pass on everything. In a world where so much is accessible by computer, the intelligence agencies are more reliant on human sources than ever.”

  “That seems counterintuitive. Why?”

  “Because cyber data is too easily tracked. A lot of the best spies and terrorists stay off phones and Internet. So the best way to track them ends up being old-fashioned tradecraft.”

  “Did you like the work?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes not.”

  “So why did you stay on?”

  “Because people need protecting. It’s a noble cause. You did work for the CSE. And you work in cybersecurity now. You must know as well as I do that there are evil men in this world. I don’t know how they got that way, and I’ve given up trying to find out. But I saw it enough to want to fight them.”

  “So you joined for an adventure, and stayed on to protect us from bad guys?” She was smiling.

  “And probably 9/11, if I think about it. September eleventh changed everyone, I think. I was in New York City when it happened. I had actually skipped class to go visit my father. I never did anything like that—skip class, I mean. But I hadn’t seen him in a while, and it was early in the semester. I planned to make it back for football practice. My father and I ended up watching the smoke from the first building when the second airplane hit. That was the moment—when the second aircraft struck. People were still trying to figure out what was going on when it was just one smoking tower. But the second aircraft hitting—that was when the world changed.”

  Renee looked up from her computer as Max spoke.

  “I remember seeing the people who jumped off the burning towers. Their bodies falling through the air. Their choice was to stay and burn to death, or jump off. Maybe it wasn’t a choice. That was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever witnessed. When you see something like that, and you know that there are these men out there who intended for it to occur—men who celebrated when it happened—it makes you realize that there is good and evil in this world. And I guess I just wanted to fight for good.”

  “Sometimes I think it takes a truly shocking event to wake us all up out of our slumber.” Renee paused. “So, you see yourself as…what exactly? A knight?”

  He smiled. “I guess. Something like that.�
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  “So why the act? Why do you pretend to be the spoiled rich boy, if that’s not who you really are? Does the DIA tell you to pretend to be that character?”

  Max shrugged.

  “Come on, Max, give me an answer.”

  “Are you psychoanalyzing me now? Should I lie down?”

  “If it would help.” The wind blew a few strands of her dark hair across her face. She stroked it out of the way with her fingers.

  “Because if people think I’m the cliché of a rich billionaire’s son, they’re expecting to see certain things,” Max said. “I give them what they expect. It’s a convenient mask. And then they don’t see anything else I might do.”

  “It allows you to be anonymous?”

  “It allows me to be sneaky.”

  “And the act didn’t get too distasteful for you?”

  “No. I’m good at pretending. I feel like all my life, I’ve pretended. When you get good at it, the act requires less effort. And if they think you wake up at dawn, you can sleep till noon. Or in my case…if they think you’re sleeping till noon, no one knows that you might be sending intelligence to your handler at dawn.”

  She touched his arm. “So if you were satisfied being a spy, then why did you decide to get out?”

  “I didn’t decide to get out. They forced me out.” He started to say something else and then bit his lip. “We can talk more about that later. Right now I need you to find out as much as you can before our call with the MI-6 agent.”

  “Sure. That’s fine.” Renee began typing. She shot him a curious glance as he got up and walked away.

  11

  Jacksonville, Florida

  The Fend Aerospace business center was a tall metal-and-glass structure that rose up just west of the St. John’s River. It housed a sizable chunk of the managers in the company - those involved in finance, purchasing, marketing, and sales. Charles Fend and the c-suite executives had their offices there, along with a select group of project managers and R&D scientists.

  The view was excellent. From the eighteenth floor, one could see the St. John’s River winding through the city. The football stadium stood to the north, and Naval Air Station Jacksonville was to the south. Multiple bridges cut across the shimmering river.

  Special Agent Flynn sat across the glossy conference table from the senior Fend 100 program manager. She looked nervous, which was understandable considering that she was talking to the FBI. Most people Flynn spoke with were nervous.

  Flynn looked at his notes. Maria Blount.

  Charles Fend had personally hired her away from a London-based competitor. Maria had gotten to know Max Fend informally in the two years that she’d been with his father’s company. Red hair. A nice smile. And very smart. Aerospace engineering smart. Not that Flynn was a dummy, but these people were all brainiacs. She’d graduated near the top of her class at Cambridge and had turned down a job at NASA to work on this project, for God’s sake. Flynn would have to bring his A game.

  “I appreciate you guys blocking off your afternoon for me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Tell me about Max Fend,” he began.

  Maria blinked. “Max? Well, I’ve known him for a number of years through his father. He’s a good soul, Max. A little bit of a comedian, I think, but sharp, and eager to learn. He’ll fit right in.”

  “Do you have any reason to believe that Max Fend would be angry with his father?”

  She was taken aback. “No. No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

  “Have you seen any suspicious behavior? Talking to anyone that you didn’t know? Or perhaps asking questions that were unlike him?”

  Maria thought about it. “He was asking a lot of questions about the automated airliner. The Fend 100. But everyone has been asking questions about that. And it’s completely appropriate for Max to ask those sorts of questions. He’ll be coming to work for Fend Aerospace, as you know.”

  “Yes, I’m aware. What kinds of things was he asking?”

  “I don’t know,” Maria said. “The basic questions. How it worked. Who controlled the aircraft at different phases of the flight. That kind of thing.”

  “Did you see him using the Fend computer network the day of the network breach? Or at any time leading up to that incident?”

  “What do you mean, the Fend computer network?”

  “Did you see him use any company computers on the fifteenth of last month?”

  “Yes, I think so. But again, that’s completely appropriate and normal behavior.”

  “I’ll decide that, thank you.”

  “Very well. I apologize.”

  “It’s no problem. Confirm for me this—you had a computer network breach, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the day after, you had a test flight for one of your Fend 100 prototypes, right?”

  “Again, that is correct.”

  “Was there a risk there? Was the Fend 100 aircraft affected by the hacking incident?”

  “No.”

  “You sound very sure of yourself.”

  Maria frowned. “Look, I understand that it’s your job to investigate this computer security incident. But in my opinion, it’s silly to think that someone logging in to the Fend network’s email system could gain access to the datalink that controls the Fend 100 remotely.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated. “Do you mind if I bring in Bradley? He’s better at explaining this type of stuff.”

  “He’s the chief engineer on the project?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure. Please bring him in. I’ll wait.”

  Bradley Karpinsky entered a moment later. Flynn said, “Mr. Karpinsky, I was just talking to Miss Blount here about the external computer breach that occurred on the Fend network.”

  “Okay.” Karpinsky shrugged.

  He was going to make Flynn do all the work. Flynn hated guys like this.

  “Miss Blount was telling me how she thinks it’s implausible that anyone could have gained access to the Fend 100 aircraft through the company’s computer network.”

  “I would have to agree with her on that,” Karpinsky said.

  “Would you mind elaborating? Using laymen’s terms?”

  “Well, for one thing, the system that remotely controls the Fend 100 is a closed system. There is no connection to the company’s main computer network.”

  “But our Cyber Investigation division has identified that your company’s computer network was penetrated by foreign entities.”

  “So we heard,” Karpinsky said. “So what?”

  “I’m just trying to cover all my bases. I want to figure out what the hackers were after. Some of my cyber experts raised the question that the aircraft itself could have been tapped into. I would like to hear your opinions on that theory.”

  Maria whispered, “They think it was Max.”

  Flynn frowned. “Excuse me. I never said that.”

  “Well, you were asking all those questions about him. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see where you’re going.”

  Flynn realized that she actually was a rocket scientist.

  Karpinsky let out a snort. “Max Fend? Look, don’t repeat this, but that kid is more interested in buying a new boat or whatever it is rich folks do. And I doubt he would have the skills needed to gain entry into our computer network.”

  Agent Flynn said, “I take it you don’t have a very high opinion of Max Fend?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Why is that?”

  “His father’s setting him up with a comfortable job here when he’s done with school. But the kid’s done nothing to earn it,” Karpinsky said. “Meanwhile we’re all busting our asses so that his dad can make history.”

  “Bradley. Come on,” Maria said.

  “Well, it’s true. You know it is.”

  Flynn watched the exchange. What Flynn didn’t bother to mention was that Max Fend himself didn’
t need much skill to open up the Fend network to criminal hackers. He just needed access to the Fend Aerospace computer network. Inserting a preprogrammed thumb drive, or clicking on the right external link, would create a hole in the firewall—the hackers would do the rest.

  Karpinsky’s comments raised two questions in his mind. First, was it really implausible that the Fend 100 had been accessed through the company’s separate network breach? Flynn made a note to ask his cyber team about that. He had taken their word for it. He would have to dig there.

  The second question in Flynn’s mind was whether Karpinsky held a grudge against Charles Fend, because he felt that Max was getting favorable treatment.

  Flynn decided to change up the questions. “Mr. Karpinsky…”

  “Please, call me Bradley.”

  “Bradley, if you were going to seize control of the Fend 100, how would you do it?”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “But if you had to—do you see any possible way for a criminal organization to do so?”

  Karpinsky rubbed his chin. “I mean—hypothetically—and I mean this is way out there—but if someone was able to access the actual aircraft…maybe then they could mess around in there and—”

  Maria shook her head. “I doubt that’s possible. We have so many security measures.”

  “Yeah. She’s right. I mean, we have teams of engineers crawling all over the aircraft every day. We treat it like a NASA rocket launch. We check everything eight different ways to make sure there are no defects. That’s why I told your FBI investigator that I don’t think this computer network breach is a safety concern—more like a corporate security issue. Hackers trying to steal the design and software code. That is my worry.”

  Flynn said, “You’re saying that the hacking incident isn’t a safety concern because no defects showed up on your tests?”

  “Right.”

  “Look, this might sound crazy, but I’ve gotta ask this,” Flynn said. “I’ve heard reports about people on commercial flights hacking into the aircraft’s controls through the onboard Wi-Fi network. Does the Fend 100 have any security flaws like that? Something that hackers could have taken control of?”