Double Deception

by Desiree Holt

Liam wanted to tell him all that had been taken into consideration, but he had to remind himself that Jason, like the others, looked at it from a different perspective. They were focused on their particular project and didn’t do well with interruptions. He was well aware of that and had made arrangements to minimize the disruption.

  “No. Arroyo is sending us a trained crew to help with the physical move and an experienced tech to help me with the digital move. I will personally oversee the situation to make sure nothing happens to corrupt the servers.” He looked around the table. “Anyone else on this particular subject? Okay, kids. Let’s talk through the rest of this and then I’ll let you get back to your work.”

  When the meeting ended, Rosalie Mercado, his assistant, walked back to the office with him. A force at the age of fifty, she had left Winters and Pryce with him, telling him she was ready for a challenge. She was sharp, savvy, could control the programmers who came to work for him and kept things running smoothly.

  “Big changes around here, Liam. Exciting times.”

  “I hope that’s a plus,” he told her. “You’ve been very positive about Arroyo from the beginning. I hope that hasn’t changed.”

  She shook her head. “Not a bit. I think this is a great thing for the firm, especially with those new contracts sitting on my desk that need to be addressed.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. The thing he hated the most about the business was…the business. He loved meeting the clients, probing their minds to find out exactly what they wanted the creating their specifically tailored software. It was the paperwork that did him in. For the most part, Rosalie handled it with Hank Freeman, but he was the one who costed it out and set the pricing.

  “I’d say you’ve got another day’s grace with some of them,” she told him, “before they start getting antsy.”

  “I promise I’ll get to them today.” They had reached their suite of offices. “How about if I take the top three right now and get to it?”

  “After you phone Taylor Cantrell back. She called just before the meeting and wanted a report on how everyone reacted to the move and any possible changes.” She cocked an eyebrow. “If she’s this hands-on with every unit of Arroyo, the woman must never sleep.”

  “I think she has a lot of backup with her husband,” Liam told her. “He doesn’t say it, but when you’re with them, you can tell she’s his primary focus. She did tell me the other night, however, that her father was killed because he trusted the wrong people and maybe took his eye off the prize there. She’s determined that will never happen again.”

  “From everything I’ve read, she’s doing a damn fine job.” She picked up three folders off the stack on one corner of her desk and handed them to Liam. “You said you’d start with three projects, so here they are.”

  “And I’ll get right to them.” He grinned at Rosalie. “Whoever thought when it was just you and me and three software programmers that this would happen?”

  “I did.” She winked at him. “Now go get to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a sharp salute.

  Rosalie burst into laughter. “Work, Liam.”

  He had been at his desk digging into the hated paperwork when he heard a knock on the doorjamb. He looked up to see Teri standing there.

  “Rosalie said it was okay, if I didn’t take more than five minutes.” She laughed. “I have the feeling she’d toss me out if I took more. You’re very lucky to have her. We’re very lucky.”

  “She’s a force of nature, for sure. Okay. Then five minutes it is. What’s up?”

  “About the new people you’ll be bringing in.” She stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets.

  He studied her face for a clue. “You have someone you want to recommend?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I just wondered if you’d be assigning them to any of the projects we’re already working on.”

  “I don’t expect to.” Liam motioned her forward. “Is there a problem I’m not aware of?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, and I’m sure I would be.” She tipped her head to one side. “But you know how obsessive we all get working on a project. We have a sense of ownership.”

  “I hope you know I’d never do that. I spend too much time with each of you making sure you know what’s required to stick someone new into it with you. Besides, I thought I was clear that I’m hiring new people because we have a sudden wealth of new clients. Where is this coming from, anyway?”

  She shrugged. “Some of us were just gabbing about it after you left the meeting, that’s all.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Some of you? Do I want to know which ones?”

  She shook her head and stood up straight. “Forget it.”

  “Just tell me this. Was it Carl?” He was the newest addition to the staff and Liam was still figuring him out.

  “No. It doesn’t matter. I knew this was a bad idea. I told them they were nuts, but I figured I’d ask you anyway. We’re good to go.”

  “I hope so, because there’s a lot riding here.” He pointed to the files on his desk. “Now that we’re part of Arroyo, we’re only going to get busier. There are some great opportunities for all of you here, to make a name for yourselves and also get some healthy salary increases.”

  “I know, I know. I hear you. Listen, I’m going back to work, so just forget I ever said anything, okay?”

  “Forgotten already.”

  But, after she left, he sat staring at his desk, wondering just where this had come from. He had built SBD on the Winters and Pryce model, where each software engineer had his own projects supervised, in this case, by Liam. Often, if a project was too massive, there would be collaboration, but by and large everyone worked on their own. Liam was the only common denominator. It was his responsibility to know each project well enough to step in if need be.

  He wondered what they would think if they knew about his failsafe. Once each piece of software was complete and passed beta testing, he locked it digitally on the servers, so no one could access it. He was the only one who had the password to open it, although Hank Freeman had a thumb drive with copies of all the passwords on it, in case anything ever happened to him. It was always best to be prepared. But before he did that, he opened the program and inserted a special code that would trigger an alarm if anyone tried to access it without permission. A message would be sent directly to his computer, his cell phone and his special watch.

  Not that he didn’t trust his staff, but, well, as he’d learned early on, shit happens. And now that they were part of Arroyo, he could not afford a misstep.

  Chapter Five

  “We have to find a way to delay this, but my people will not be happy.” Shan took a sip of tea. “Still, if what you tell me is true, Benedict will personally be checking each and every ongoing project to make sure the move does not disrupt anything. That means he will be hands-on with everything. I see no opportunity for you to insert the back door.”

  Eight took a healthy swallow of the bourbon the waitress had brought. Tonight, alcohol was called for more than something as mild as tea or even beer.

  “I can take care of it.” Pause. “I told you I could and that still stands.”

  Shan snorted. “Yes? And how exactly do you plan to do this with him all over everything?”

  “That’s my business.”

  Shan’s fingers curled around the cup of tea. “No, it is ours. This has been a key operation for my people since we first learned about the drone Campbell Avionics had been contracted to develop.”

  Eight frowned. “Why is this particular drone so important? This isn’t the only one being developed.”

  “But it’s the only one with special equipment and the ability to evade radar tracking. We need that for two reasons.” Shan looked hard at Eight. “And none of this is to be repeated. You know what happens to people who blab.”

  Eight shrugged. “Who’s blabbing? I’m just curious. We never get the specs of what we’re writing a program to protect,
only the type of antivirus and security software needed to build the cyberwall.”

  “I find it amazing that you are able to write software for each individual project.”

  Eight waved a hand in the air. “It’s just words and numbers that you put in a specific order to get what you want.”

  “Even so. It takes clever brains like yours to know the order to arrange them in. And don’t get a big head because I used the word clever.”

  “But we are.” Eight’s mouth curved in a nasty smile. “Without us, no one’s programs would be secure. Look. You came to me because out of all the coders at SBD, you managed to find my weak spot. Fine. I get it. But it’s still my brains you’re buying.”

  “Only if we get what we want,” Shan pointed out. “Meanwhile, you have to get me the schedule of the move and how things will be handled. Most of all we want to know when your project is to be delivered to the client.”

  Eight nodded. “That will be when beta testing is complete. I have a short window after beta testing to access the files and insert a back door.”

  “And you are certain it is undetectable? They won’t know this happened until we have our own drone in production as well as a method to take control of theirs?”

  “Do I look like an idiot?”

  “I’m just constructing the timeline in my head. What if something happens to Benedict? Does everything grind to a halt?”

  Eight stared at the person across the table. What the hell?

  “What’s going on here?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “The software still has to be delivered to the client. We would take turns beta testing. But—”

  Shan held up a hand. “That was a rhetorical question. We like to be prepared for all eventualities.”

  But Eight knew there was nothing rhetorical here.

  “You will let us know once the back door is inserted,” Shan continued, “and the software delivered.”

  “As long as I get my money.”

  Shan’s eyes narrowed. “We are paying you a great deal of money to do this. If it fails, you won’t need the money because you won’t be around to spend it.”

  Eight fought back a shiver at the words’ cold delivery. There was no doubt this had come with a great risk, but the money was definitely worth it.

  “I said I’ll take care of it. And Benedict won’t know who did it, if it’s ever discovered.”

  “Oh, rest assured.” Shan snorted. “That’s the first place they will look once their drone is compromised. But you will have your money by then and be long gone, if you wish. But tell me this. What happens if somehow the defense contractor discovers they’ve been compromised? Anything can happen, you know.”

  “But I told you—”

  Shan held up a hand. “Just humor me. What happens?”

  “You know damn well. The first thing Liam Benedict will do is come after all of us. I hope by then I’ve been able to completely erase the ghost files.”

  “Ghost files?” Shan scowled. “Explain.”

  “I will have erased all traces of the back door from the server by then, but those files can still linger out there in outer space. A good forensic data specialist can search for them.” Eight took a sip of bourbon and let the flavor roll around on her tongue. At least it settled her nerves.

  “Timing is going to be everything on this. When is the big move scheduled for?”

  “Benedict wants it completed before Gasparilla, which is less than three weeks away. The software is scheduled to be delivered to the client no later than the week before.”

  Eight had lived in Tampa for ten years and loved the annual festival celebrating the supposed invasion of Tampa by the pirate Jose Gaspar. For one week the city went crazy, with parties both private and public. She and her friends loved it and always took in as much of it as they could. They never missed the big parade as it wove its way down Bayshore Boulevard and into downtown

  Tampa. Parade day was always barely controlled insanity, with people drinking, float personalities tossing beads and candy and people trying to run along with them.

  “You must let me know when you have a date certain,” Shan insisted. “Do you think he’ll make the deadline?”

  “Count on it. He’s determined to get the software delivered and the move accomplished before Gasparilla week. He doesn’t want this hanging over his head. He rides on one of the parade floats, dressed as a pirate, if you can believe that. And is involved in some of the events.”

  “You don’t think the chaos of preparing for the move will interfere with finishing the project?” Shan asked. “We have our own deadlines. It is imperative that we have the back door to the software and that we stay on schedule.”

  Eight pushed aside the empty glass, signaled the waiter and ordered another drink, ignoring the displeasure on Shan’s face. A long swallow of the icy liquid did a lot to soothe jangled nerves.

  “I told you. Everything is on schedule. Arroyo is sending a crew to facilitate the move. I will let you know when the program has been installed on the client’s server and tested there. Then it’s up to your people. Is there something new I should know about?”

  “That’s no concern of yours,” Shan snapped. “You just give us the back door. If it works, you’ll get your money and we’ll be done.” Shan tapped a cigarette against the ashtray. “Just keep me up to date on everything—and I mean everything—especially changes in the schedule. My people will prepare for all eventualities.

  “What are you thinking?” Eight demanded. “Something that will fall back on me? You said there’d be no heat for me on this if I did what I was supposed to.”

  Eight was beginning to have a bad feeling about this. Once Shan had the back door and could access the design programs on the client’s computer, there was no guarantee Eight would even see one penny of the promised payoff.

  “And there won’t be. You will be paid once we know it works.”

  “Half on delivery, the other half after you test it.” Eight was not going to budge on that, not with Shan bringing uneasiness to the situation.

  “We don’t go back on our word, but you need to be sure to keep yours.”

  “Fine.” Eight wanted to know what the big rush was, but figured the less known, the better.

  “You still have sufficient phones so you can continue to dispose of them after each use?”

  “I do.”

  “Then that is all for today. One week from tonight for an update. Go ahead. You leave first.”

  Fuck, Eight thought, heading out of the restaurant. This is getting to be a real pain in the ass. If the money wasn’t so great…

  But it is, and you need it to get your ass out of the crack you stuck it in. So shut the fuck up and get on with it.

  Fine. As long as I get paid.

  Chapter Six

  The day felt as if it had been a week long and Liam was ready for it to be done. Since the dinner with the Cantrells and the meeting where all the documents had been signed, it seemed he’d been running nonstop. Noah Cantrell had asked him which of the buildings he’d been looking at for the move was his preferred choice. They hit it early in the morning following the dinner, and by the end of the day, Arroyo had had a sale pending.

  Since then, Liam had been on a fast track. He’d signed six new clients and met with his staff to set up a schedule as to who would start which project when. Two of them, he kept for himself. When he’d set up Software By Design, he’d made a promise that, unlike his former employers, he’d never remove himself from the actual business of writing software.

  His days were filled either meeting with new clients or checking on ongoing projects or trying to focus on his own projects. Many nights he didn’t get home until midnight, after starting out at six in the morning. But at least things were moving along at a rapid clip.

  All of this he ran by Taylor Cantrell, although she’d been insistent that the business was his to run as he saw fit. Her only input would be to ste
er major clients his way, to recommend divisions of Arroyo that she thought would benefit from SBD, or step in if she saw things were for whatever reason going downhill. That, he vowed, was never going to happen. So he went about the business of running his firm, only tapping into Arroyo when necessary

  But despite the fact that he scarcely had a minute to himself, now and then he got that same eerie feeling he was being watched. It didn’t happen in any one place. Sometimes he’d sense it while backing out of his garage. That was stupid, because how would he spot anyone? He lived in a place that saw a lot of traffic day and night. Other times he’d get that little shiver down his spine when he was getting coffee to go, or gassing up his car. Once he’d even felt it at the deli where he’d stopped for takeout.

  But he never spotted anyone who looked out of place, or seemed to be showing unusual interest in him. Not only that, he’d never spotted the same person twice. So, if, in fact, someone was stalking him, they were doing a damn good job of it. At least no cars had tried to sideswipe him again.

  The date of the move was set from the time he’d signed the Arroyo agreements. It would happen just prior to Gasparilla week. He hadn’t expected the floor they’d occupy would be ready to their specs by then, especially moving the computers and servers. A good example of the phrase ‘money talks, bullshit walks’. Arroyo made things happen that Liam knew would not have if he was doing this solo.

  He’d sent an updated schedule of projects to everyone’s computer. It included due dates of each one in process as well as the dates of the move and how each coder would be individually affected. He’d been so consumed with everything that he was stunned to realize four weeks had passed and the date of the Cantrell barbecue was almost on top of him.

  “I don’t suppose I can beg off this, right?” He was standing by Rosalie’s desk, running down a list of things with her.

  “You can’t say no to this, Liam,” Rosalie said. “It’s almost a command performance. Anyway, why would you want to? It sounds like a spectacular event.”