Death of Secrets

by Bowen Greenwood

  "Next subject: don't be predictable. If you've ever gone somewhere before, don't go there again until this is over. That includes class for you Miss, and the office for you, Congressman."

  "How do we get out of here tonight?" Mike asked. "If they're as good as you say, for all I know they're waiting for me outside."

  "That is entirely possible. I think I can get you out tonight. The NSA doesn’t do human intelligence, we don’t have field agents. Even if we did, I’m not one. But I think I know enough to get you out of their sight and give you a head start.

  "The next rule is that crowds are your friends. The behaviors you have described to me all point to bad guys who don't want any more attention than they have to have, and that means they'll avoid making a scene."

  After a pause he added, "Now we need to address the question of getting you out of here. Long term strategy, I'm not sure what you're going to do. But in the short term, your plan should be to get off their radarscope and hole up. Sound good?"

  Mike and Kathy nodded together, and Mike asked, "Leaving now?"

  "Not yet, Mike. Go withdraw as much money as they'll let you from an ATM in the building. You will need to survive on whatever cash you have on hand. If you use your plastic again, assume it will let them track you."

  Kathy interjected. "Should I go with him and get a bit of cash too? We'll probably need as much as we can get if we have to live without plastic for a while."

  Jacobs nodded.

  When Kathy and Michael came back from the ATM, Nathan handed them each a boring, old looking pre-paid phone. He said, "No internet, no social media, and it’s a lot harder to track. Still, don’t use it unless you have to.

  "OK, Mike wants to try to keep this off the official radar for a while. I’m not entirely comfortable with that, because whatever’s going on here sure smells like a threat to National Security. Fighting those is what they pay me for. I would prefer to put you all under 24 hour guard until we can figure out what’s going on. But Mike’s a friend, and for him I’ll bend the rules. Now we just need to find a hotel that's low-class enough that they won't require you to show an ID when you check in. I'm afraid you'll probably have to stay in a place where they rent by the hour."

  "Um… excuse me," Kathy interrupted. When Nathan paused to let her speak, she said, "I am a college student, after all." She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. A little fiddling and she pulled something out which she threw over to Jacobs. "My fake ID. How else am I supposed to buy wine?"

  Everyone laughed and Nathan said, "OK, that makes things easier."

  Jacobs led them out of Mike’s office. While his friend from the NSA was in front of him, Mike just did what he did every time he left the office. He picked up his briefcase, which included his laptop. Jacobs never saw.

  The procession attracted a few looks as they passed through the still-busy halls of the Congressional office building, and Mike just held his breath. Shouldn’t be any reason anyone would ask him about it – if anybody here even recognized him. He was a freshman after all – not exactly the biggest fish in the political pond.

  Immediately when they reached the street, Nathan spotted a possible threat leaning against the telephone pole. He was a bit too well dressed to be idling on a street corner, and his blazer bulged a bit under his arm. He led his charges away from the man.

  A couple steps later he looked back at the threat. The man had his hand up to his mouth – no doubt speaking into a radio.

  "We have a tail," he whispered. "Eyes forward, let's not all gawk at once."

  Kathy held her breath and kept her eyes forward as per instructions. She felt the now familiar pounding of her heart and the cold beads of sweat on her brow.

  When they reached the vehicle, though, Nathan didn't feel any safer. He put John into the passenger seat beside him and the others into the back seat. Whoever that man had been, he was no doubt calling for backup, and that meant they'd have a car to tail them. Well, he’d see about that. He was schooled in evasive driving, and he planned to put all that education to the test tonight.

  Once everyone was aboard he laid down a strip of rubber and peeled away from the curb as quick as he could goose the engine. In quick succession he took a left, a right and another right, turning at the first three streets he came to. Then he doubled back up to the area of the Capitol building and sped down Constitution Avenue for a bit before taking another turn.

  Despite her seat belt, Kathy was thrown into Mike with each successive hard turn. When one particular turn threw her fast in to opposite direction, landing with a thud against the door to her side, Kathy let slip a small scream and her hand went involuntarily to Mike's.

  The car crisscrossed the National Mall several times as Nathan threw every trick he knew into the drive. Just to be sure, though, he kept them in the car for another twenty minutes, driving an erratic and totally random course around the tourist areas of Washington. He finally slowed the car when he neared the White House.

  "Why do we stick so close to the tourist areas?" Kathy asked. "Isn't there too much traffic here to run very fast?"

  It was a sign of how confident he was feeling about the loss of their pursuers that Nathan bothered to answer at all. "The White House and the national Mall are National Security Areas," he responded. "You need a special permit to fly there. They won't be able to keep track of us by helicopter. We lost them now, I'm sure of it. Where do you folks want to get dropped off?"

  Kathy looked at Mike, Mike looked at Kathy, and they both shrugged. Finally Mike said, "Any hotel ought to do."

  It took another half-hour of driving before they found a suitable hotel, during which time Nathan never ceased looking in the rear view mirror. He never saw a single vehicle that stayed behind them for even one turn.

  Kathy went in and rented one room for the night with two double beds, using the driver’s license she normally reserved for buying liquor.

  Mike turned to his friend. "Thanks for the help, Nate. You're a real lifesaver."

  Jacobs shook hands. "I had to do something, Mike. I don't feel right about leaving you, but staying is going to cause more problems than it solves."

  "Don't worry about it, man. These guys have been on our tail since last night. All we needed was to get out of their sight for a while. That'll be enough for us to keep ahead of them."

  "I hope so, Mike," Nathan said as he turned back to the car. "Just don't underestimate them. The stuff you've told me sounds pretty serious."

  With that, he climbed back into his car and drove away.

  ***

  Kathy and Mike turned toward the elevators when John grabbed Mike’s sleeve. "I have a problem," he said.

  "What’s that?"

  "If I don’t show up for work tonight, I’ll lose my job. I have to go in there."

  "You heard what Nathan said about going to familiar places."

  "I know, but I don’t think they’re after me. I think it’s Kathy and the flash drive they want."

  Mike looked at him for a long time. John’s job required him to be tough, and it showed. The Congressman had no doubt the bouncer could hold his own one on one with anybody. But would it be a one on one fight? Maybe not. Could John handle himself? Maybe. One way or another, though, it was his decision. Mike didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all. But he’d let his own career concerns dominate the decision making process so far, and he had to admit that John had just as much right to worry about his job.

  "OK, John. You have to do what you have to do. I don’t want you to end up broke because of this. But watch your back, OK?"

  John shook his hand. "Always, man. Watch your own. And Kathy’s." With that he gave Kathy a gentle handshake too, and walked away.

  Whittled down to just the two of them, the rooming situation suddenly became more intimate than Kathy had planned. Sharing a room with two other people – when one of them was John – took away the romance angle. Now that it was just the two of them… She shrugged. Going back to
the desk to get a second room right after John left would be rude to Mike, so she decided she could just deal with it.

  Flopping into one of the chairs, Kathy released a huge sigh. "This is crazy."

  Mike smiled as he eased himself into the chair next to her. He handed her a plastic cup filled with water from the room sink. "Maybe now we're finally free for a while"

  "I hope so. I never had reason to think about how precious it is to simply feel secure."

  Kathy stretched out in the chair, slouching and getting as close to horizontal as possible. The comfort looked pretty good to Mike – he stood up, pulled the tie out of his collar and shrugged his way out of his suit coat.

  Once he sat down, he spoke. "My staff is probably wondering what the heck happened this afternoon in my office, but since they're all on the team, hopefully they won't talk to the press." He harrumphed ruefully. "After all, if I go down, several other budding political careers will end along with mine. But they're all good people and good team players, so I figure they won't try too hard to hurt me."

  Kathy straightened up a bit on the chair. "Is it really like that?" she asked. "Is every single move you make a potential scandal?"

  Mike shrugged. "Stuff about me winds up in the papers or on the blogs back home. That’s just the way things work. The wrong rumor would dramatically affect the re-election campaign. This is political life. This is how you learn to think."

  "Seriously, Mike, I don't know how you live like that. I guess I never thought about it, but the idea of every little thing I do being fodder for reporters isn't a positive one for me."

  "I control it. I keep a tight leash on information about myself. You have to."

  "So you keep asking me out. Is that going to be a headline? Congressman dating coed?"

  Mike blushed and looked away. "Coed sounds so … well… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a single guy wanting to get to know a woman better."

  She gave him a smile. "The past couple of days qualifies as getting to know someone better."

  "Not exactly the way I wanted it to happen," Mike replied, grinning. "We never did get that cup of coffee I wanted."

  She laughed. "We could go out and get one."

  They settled for sending for room service, and opted for a bottle of wine instead of coffee, since both had hopes of eventually getting some sleep. When the bottle came, Michael looked over his glass at Kathy and said, "Confusion to our enemies."

  "I’ll drink to that," Kathy replied, and drank much more than a dignified sip.

  "So let me ask you a question. Why Georgetown? I’d think that for acting and performing classes you’d go somewhere in New York or LA."

  Kathy sighed. "I wanted to. But my Mom was pretty set on me coming here. Most of my family are seriously into being Catholic, and they like to come here to school. Every discussion of college was always accompanied by her saying something about ‘what your father would have wanted.’"

  "You father’s…"

  "Dead. He died when I was very young, I never even knew him. But boy oh boy has he managed to be an influence."

  Mike didn’t know what to say. He settled for, "An influence on you? Or your mom?"

  Kathy shrugged. "Both. Dad was super into church activities, and when he died Mom carried that on. Fundraisers for the hospital, on the board for the private school, etc.

  "It's probably not surprising that an 18-year-old kid from a home like that became a rebel when she got to college."

  Kathy looked away. When she spoke again, she was staring at the wall. "But I was stupid about it. I really did a lot of stuff I wish had never happened. My freshman year… well, regret is too weak a word. You ever wonder how John and I got to be friends? It's not because he's a bouncer and I'm a waitress. We met when both of us were a lot more messed up. He started trying to get himself cleaned up, got a real world job at the Neon, and then got me one too."

  She looked back at Mike and smiled. "That's when I learned that God isn't about buildings or events. God is about second chances. God is about forgiveness."

  Before Mike could even start to reply to that, Kathy smiled at him. "Your turn. Why politics?"

  Mike smiled back. "Same reason most people get started in it. I was a bit of a firebrand when I was young. Idealistic, determined to change the world, you know the story. My parents couldn’t have been more proud. Neither of them were born here, and it gave them a lot of pride to think of their son being elected. It’s not like they needed me to prove that they’d fully adapted to America. Dad made himself a good chunk of money in real estate. But to talk to them, you’d think the fact that I’m in Congress is somehow proof that they’re real Americans."

  "How do you come by Vincent for a last name, then?" Kathy asked. "Doesn’t sound very ethnic."

  "My mother was totally German, my father was half English and half Slav. He got the name from the English half."

  Kathy nodded and fell silent. Looking at her across the table, Mike admired the way the red wine enhanced the color of her cheeks and lips. Even after what they'd been through, she still looked good. A long strand of brown hair hung low over her eyes.

  Kathy pretended to concentrate on drinking her wine, knowing all along that Mike was looking at her. She returned the favor.

  He obviously took care of his appearance. His hair was neatly in place, despite everything. And if he needed a shave, it only added a rough edge to his otherwise polished appearance. He wasn’t quite on par with, say, John, when it came to physical strength. But he was fit enough. The contours of his chest under the shirt were those of muscles that got used.

  Setting her glass down, she said, "I need to hit the sack, Mike. Let’s re-cork this wine and drink the rest tomorrow. Can you give me a few minutes to get into bed?"

  He concealed his displeasure at the idea of drinking day-old wine, then went into the bathroom to take a shower.

  ***

  "OK, Colleen, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

  Colleen kissed her boyfriend and watched him walk away to bed. Idly, she stared at his computer, where she'd been helping him with an assignment for his Human-Computer Interaction class. Tony was actually majoring in the subject, yet he still needed her help to make his semester project work.

  She scrolled through line after line of program code, wondering what they were missing, why the program wouldn't run. Tony had chosen a project that was probably above his head, but between the two of them maybe it could be made to work.

  Colleen enjoyed more technical aspects of computer science, but in her more objective moments she admitted that HCI, as the insiders called it, was a more important field of study.

  Everything people do with computers comes down to putting in or taking out information. It might be typing text or scanning a picture in for example. Recording a sound – this was the focus of Tony's project – was still another method of information input.

  Tony's semester project was designed to demonstrate the technical feasibility of creating an operating system designed to receive its primary input from spoken commands. Colleen admired the ambition of it – that was the coming giant leap forward in Tony's field, after all.

  Her boyfriend’s work was about making the process even easier than a touch screen. What if, instead of tapping an icon, all the user had to do was say what he wanted? Obviously, the learning curve would get even shallower, and the computer age would open up to even more people. Voice recognition had become common, but building an entire operating system around it had not yet been done.

  That was Tony's project. Not to write the actual operating system that worked like that – though no doubt someone would hire him to work on that after college – but to demonstrate that it was possible.

  Colleen closed the window they'd been working in, and turned on her instant messaging program. Tony's wasn't the only project she had to help with, after all. Whatever Kathy had gotten involved with, she wouldn't get out of it until they knew what was on that fl
ash drive. And Colleen knew she was the only friend Kathy had with even a hope of figuring it out. After a few moments of introductory chat with her on line friends, she found one in particular she needed to talk to.

  KH12> Yo, dude, wassup?

  l33tluser> Hey, KH! Boring here, just thinking about surfing for dirty pictures.

  KH12> You know I think that crap is sick.

  l33tluser> Yeah, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.

  KH12> Anyway, I have a question for you.

  l33tluser> Shoot, I'm in no hurry.

  KH12> A friend mentioned a name to me today, and I think I remember who he is. You remember the guy who got busted for trying to hack the FBI? Eric Harrison? Do you know if he's still in prison?

  l33tluser> Yeah, I remember him, why do you ask? Come to think of it, I do remember something about him, must've just read it a little bit ago, let me see if I can find it."

  Colleen waited patiently, envisioning her friend on the other end of the line sorting through news web sites and looking for the story. Minutes later he sent another message.

  l33tluser> OK, yeah, here it is, early this week I read a story about him escaping from prison. Says the authorities suspected he had help from his hacker friends. Something about the work detail schedule at the prison being altered.

  KH12> That's what I wanted to know. Thanks l33t.

  l33tluser> No worries. Why do you ask?

  KH12> It has to do with that flash drive I asked you about.

  l33tluser> Still mysterious, I take it. Hey, you know what I thought of?

  KH12> Nope, haven't perfected thought reading yet.

  l33tluser> Seriously, it occurred to me that the file names you told me were on it don't even make sense. Maybe the flash drive itself is encrypted, and that's why you're not having any luck trying to decrypt just the files?

  KH12> I never thought of that. I'm going to have to do some hacking on it and find out.