On the way, he noticed a hotel on the perimeter of the residential neighborhood. According to his car odometer, the hotel was approximately one mile from Molloy’s residence. He drove past the home without stopping. It was a large two-story contemporary structure with lots of glass and steel. Maybe three stories if there’s also a subterranean basement. I could get used to digs like that. Is that why I’m taking the chances I am?
He made two passes through the neighborhood, focusing on the different ways in and out of the community. All of the homes were pretty well sized. He wondered why there was a hotel so close by. Maybe these folks don’t all like sharing their private space with guests.
This was not a new neighborhood. Most of the homes were older than Molloy’s seemed to be. He must have remodeled his. Maybe for his cyber toys and his security?
He parked his car one door down and across the street. He pulled his dark web laptop out of his backpack and booted it up, opening his Wi-Fi app. In seconds, the app displayed no less than six neighboring household Wi-Fi networks, all of them password protected. He would have expected no less in an upscale neighborhood like this. One of those networks read GLNet. Gradsky Leonid?
On the fly, Jake made his first change of plans.
AUSTIN WAS SURPRISED TO hear from Barovsky, and that he was here in D.C. Usually, Barovsky would give him some advance warning when he was going to be in town.
“Sorry for the short notice, Rupert,” Barovsky said. “It was short notice for me too. I’ve got something I’d like to run by you, if you can fit me into your schedule.”
“Actually, your timing is impeccable, Yvgeny. I have a pair of tickets for the Wizards- Mavericks game tonight. Susan just begged off. Would you like to join me? Also, it’s a great place to visit away from prying eyes and ears. Lots of people and lots of yelling and screaming.”
“Delightful. We don’t have any NBA teams in Moscow—yet. I miss seeing those games when I was stationed here. Tell me where and when to meet you this evening.”
In between hot dogs and fries at the arena, smothered with chili, cheese, and onions, Barovsky said, “Jake Klein. He’s American. Ever run across him?”
Austin spilled some chili in the cardboard box and wiped his mouth. “Don’t think so. Do I want to?”
“Yes,” Barovsky answered.
Halftime was over. They returned to their seats. The Wizards won the game by one point on a shot at the buzzer. Austin barely noticed.
JAKE REALIZED THAT IF he could use the Mossad software on his laptop to hack into Molloy’s Wi-Fi network and any other device passwords from out here in his car, he might be able to copy the contents of Molloy’s computer without having to first get inside his house. If so, the only reason to break into Molloy’s home in the next day or two—if he could find a time when Molloy would be out of the house—would be to plant the backdoor on Molloy’s computer for future long distance … visits.
He scrunched down in his car so hopefully none of the residents would see him from their homes. If his luck held, no one out walking their dog would spot him and become curious, or alert the authorities.
His luck seemed to hold. One teenager walked by with her dog, but she was wearing ear buds and looking at her smartphone. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings. Kids are the same in Canada, or at least here in Montreal, as back at home. The next hour proved very efficient and productive for Jake.
Molloy’s home had a sophisticated security system connected to his home Wi-Fi network. Foolishly, in Jake’s opinion, the security system had an online operator’s manual. Might as well say here’s everything you need to know to get around me. Jake was able to quickly peruse the Read Me First file to see how the system worked, including how to activate, deactivate, and reactivate the system.
The security system included surveillance cameras throughout the house and all around the grounds. So long as the security system was on, each camera was activated whenever there was any motion in the corresponding zone. The resulting surveillance tapes were saved on the system until deleted.
It also included an alarm feature. If armed, opening any of the home’s windows or doors would trigger the alarm, no doubt setting off some kind of loud siren. And also alerting Molloy’s security service, and the local police as well. The alarm also had a motion detection component.
As Jake had anticipated, the property also included a backup generator. If there was a power outage that lasted more than sixty minutes, the generator automatically came on and provided power to the entire home, including reactivating the security system. Jake did not see any way to disconnect the backup generator. This meant he could allow himself no more than fifty minutes to break into the house, install the backdoor entrance on Molloy’s computer, and get the hell out.
Using the Mossad software, Jake next hacked into Molloy’s main computer. Given that he was just across the street, he was able to decrypt the computer password in short order, and copy and download the contents of Molloy’s computer to his own dark web laptop in just around fifteen minutes. He would wait to see what kind of a score he had made until he was back at his hotel. Right now, it was time to depart the charming Molloy neighborhood for the evening.
BAKER, JR. ANSWERED HIS private line. “Kind of late for a social call, isn’t it?”
“I was thinking of hitting a bucket of balls in the morning,” the voice said. “Say, around seven o’clock. Care to join me?”
“Sounds good to me,” Baker, Jr. said. “See ya there.”
JAKE WAS BACK AT the hotel in slightly less time than it had taken him to drive to Molloy’s home. He opened his laptop, and started examining what he had copied from Molloy’s computer.
A lot of the material he had lifted from Molloy’s laptop was interesting, but two things were of immediate benefit. One, he had Molloy’s digital calendar. He had a two-hour dinner meeting scheduled tomorrow evening with a new investment banker at the Downtown Dinner Club. He assumed that “Downtown” meant downtown Montreal, which the maps on his laptop confirmed. That should give me more than enough time to get in and out of Molloy’s home.
Two, and he couldn’t believe his eyes, and although the file was obscurely titled, it looked like Molloy had an extra copy of his voting manipulation software on his own computer. Son of a bitch doesn’t trust Cipher! Or Turgenev. He maintains an extra copy! The contents of the file were password protected, and no doubt coded, but he would ultimately be able to get past that and reverse engineer the software.
I’ll do it when I get back home. Don’t have the equipment I will need here. Productive day. Adrenaline worn off. Tired. Time to get some sleep.
CHAPTER 60
March 4, 2020, One Day Later
BAKER, JR. WAS ALREADY hitting balls when Austin arrived. Austin grabbed a wedge from his golf bag, looped it behind his back, and held it in place in the palms of each hand. He slowly rotated left and right, stretching both his shoulders and his hips. He emitted a sound like something between deep breaths and a series of groans. He then bent forward at the hips and bobbed slightly, as if his head might come close to his toes. “I swear, I get stiffer every day,” he said to Baker, Jr.
“Tell me about it,” Baker, Jr. answered, striking another ball.
Austin took the iron and hit a few soft wedge shots. “I can feel the rhythm—in my head. I just can’t produce it,” he said, to no one in particular.
Baker, Jr. smiled, but only to himself. He didn’t stop his own hitting to watch Austin struggle. “Another request from the Russian Embassy for a good dental hygienist?” Baker, Jr. asked without turning to Austin.
“Haha,” Austin said. He hit a few more balls, and then told Baker, Jr. about his dinner date the night before with Barovsky. And what Turgenev was suggesting.
Austin now had Baker, Jr.’s attention. He stopped hitting, turned to face Austin, and leaned on his club. “You’re shitting me, right?” he said.
“Nope. It’s what he proposed,” Austin answered.
Each man struck a few more balls. It was evident that Baker, Jr. spent more time on his golf game than Austin did.
JAKE WAS DRESSED IN a black hoodie sweatsuit—he looked like a Ninja warrior. Unfortunately, I don’t function like one. He parked where he had the night before, and hoped his luck would continue to hold up. He donned his gloves and double checked that the Mossad thumb drive, the glass cutter, the roll of masking tape, the small canister, and the tube of crazy glue were all in the money belt around his waist, and that the pouch was zipped closed.
He started the stopwatch on his smartphone and watched the tenths of seconds speed by. He had fifty minutes tops to disarm the security system, break into the house, find Molloy’s computer, allow the thirty seconds necessary to install the backdoor on the computer, retrieve the thumb drive, get the hell out of the house, glue the glass back in place where he broke in, re-arm the security system, and get the hell away.
POTUS AND BAKER, JR., took a walk around the White House grounds. They were accompanied by two secret service agents, but they were out of earshot.
Baker, Jr. told his Dad what Turgenev had in mind.
“I have a slightly better idea.” POTUS mapped it out to his son. “Pass it on to Austin, and get him cracking on it. You know this is actually very cool. I never cease to amaze myself.”
JAKE USED HIS LAPTOP to disarm Molloy’s security system. He looked at his stop watch.
07:02.32
Already used up seven minutes. Damn! As best he could, Jake looked in all directions out of the windows of his car—the coast seemed clear. He jumped out of the car and locked the door with his key fob to secure his laptop, which he was not taking with him. He hooked the key fob on his money belt. Can’t afford a single mistake.
He sprinted across the street and up the steps toward the front door of Molloy’s home. He stepped around to the large window on the side of the house, out of sight from the street. If he had successfully deactivated the security system, then his footsteps wouldn’t set off anything.
10:07.05
No blaring sirens, but look at the damn stop watch. Already ten minutes gone. He found the roll of masking tape and tore off four strips, each about four to five inches in length and applied them to the window in the shape of a square just below the inside window latch. He tore off four more two-inch strips and applied them in two pairs to the strips already attached to the window, so as to create a pair of handles.
He put the roll of masking tape back in the money belt. He removed the glass cutter and traced out a square on the window, just outside the four square strips of tape now firmly stuck to the window. He held two of the tape handles in one hand and tapped on the glass inside the traced lines with the large knuckle of the index finger of his other hand, held his breath, and gently pulled on two of the tape handles near one another.
The square piece of glass dropped out of the window. Just like Google described it, and I had practiced it. As the glass square dropped free of the window, Jake caught it and set it down on the ground a foot or so away from his feet. I sure don’t want to step on it! He returned the glass cutter to his money belt pouch and zipped it closed.
17:02.17
Shit! Look at the time. I’m not gonna make it! He cupped his hand, palm up, reached hurriedly through the open window, turned the latch, and opened it. He climbed into the dining room, stood up, and momentarily stretched his back.
19:08.09
He turned around to get his bearings, unzipped the money belt purse, and removed the small spray canister. He tiptoed out of the dining room into the hallway. He had to find Molloy’s computer. He made a lucky guess it would be in a ground floor office opposite the dining room. I sure hope Molloy’s off at his meeting, like his calendar said. He inched forward from the hallway to the foyer.
22:48.31
He saw what looked like an office opposite the foyer. There was a chair and a glass table in the center of the room. He saw the computer sitting on the table, and moved gingerly toward it.
26:27.04.
And then he heard the high-pitched cry. His luck had run out. He raised the canister and spun around, hoping the mace would do the job.
BAKER, JR. CALLED AUSTIN. “Tit for tat.” Sorry to now be calling you so late. It took me a while to get Dad’s attention.”
“No worries,” Austin replied.
“Another bucket of balls in the morning, same time, same place?” Baker, Jr. asked.
“See you there,” Austin answered. “You know, if we keep this up, our handicaps are going to drop. We won’t win any more tournaments.”
JAKE STARED STRAIGHT INTO his eyes. The stare was returned with equal animosity and trepidation—both parties were frozen still. The other eyes blinked first. Suddenly, the cat turned and bolted out of the office, and down the hallway toward the rear of the house at lightning speed. Jake took several deep breaths to settle himself. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
28:07.24
Hurry! Jake sat down in the chair facing the computer. He set the canister on the glass table next to the computer. He opened the money belt and quickly inserted the thumb drive in one of the USB ports on Molloy’s computer. He counted down the thirty seconds, which seemed to take forever. He pulled out the thumb drive and returned it to his money belt.
29:32.09
Mission accomplished. Time to get the hell outta here. He stood and raced out of the office toward the dining room window through which he had entered. He came to a screeching halt. Shit. He turned and flew back to the office. Goddamn canister! He grabbed it off the table and ran back to the dining room window.
32:45.17
He climbed out the window and set the canister down next to the glass square. He took the crazy glue out of his money belt and applied it to the edges of the glass square. He waved the glass square back and forth for a minute in the night air and let the glue dry a bit. This stuff sets fast. More of it on my gloves than the glass.
Holding the glass square by the masking tape handles, Jake inserted the square back into the window. He waited another minute for the glue to take hold and meld, and then another minute for good measure, and gently peeled the used tape off and returned it to his waist belt. The glass square held perfectly.
He could hardly see the cut lines, but the glass was a bit smudgy where the tape had been. He became creative and swooshed a little of the contents of the aerosol canister on the window and gently rubbed it out with the one finger of his glove that didn’t have any crazy glue residue on it. He returned the small canister to his money belt and zipped it closed.
38.22.49
He walked carefully to the front of the house and looked up and down the street and at the houses on the other side of the street. No one in sight. He moved swiftly across the street to his car, and used the key fob clipped to his money belt to unlock the car door. He removed his gloves and tossed them on the front seat next to his laptop. He was about to get in when he noticed someone looking at him.
40:45.19
Son of a bitch! It was the same girl he had seen the night before, walking the same dog, holding the same smartphone and wearing the same ear buds. “Hi, I’m Jamie,” the girl said. “We’re your new neighbors, we live a few doors down the block. My parents and I, and our dog, Geoffrey, just moved in last week. Geoffrey’s named after our goldfish. He died. We flushed him. Your sweats are sick, by the way. What’s your name?”
Stop talking! Jake was flummoxed. He wondered what to say his name was. Gradsky? Molloy? What would my nemesis say if Yakety Yak was talking to him? Ah, fuck it. “Molloy. Cailin Molloy. You can call me Cail. Everyone else does. Gotta run. Stop by anytime, Jaime.” He climbed in the car and watched Jaime and Geoffrey continue their walk.
45:23.27
He reached over and opened his laptop. He re-armed Molloy’s security system, closed the l
aptop, and drove off. Nothing to it. Plenty of time to spare, even with the Jaime factor.
49:32.16
CHAPTER 61
March 6, 2020, Two Days Later
JAKE WAS BACK HOME in his campus apartment. He had preliminarily revisited Molloy’s coded copy of his election manipulation software. The coding Molloy had employed was like none other than Jake had ever seen before. He could see that cracking the Molloy code was going to take a considerable amount of time and effort. With the help of his decoding software, he was confident he would get there, but when remained to be seen.
His mind drifted to Molloy, the man. What a strange fellow. I wonder if he knows yet that someone has broken into his home. Has he discovered the time lag in the security system? Would he write that off as just an aberrational power failure? He could eliminate that possibility by speaking out to the local power company, which presumably would advise him that there had been no power failures of late. Is my glass patch of his dining room window holding up okay? If not, would he have spotted it yet? Even if it’s still in place, might his housekeeper have spotted the patch in the course of their cleaning duties? And my friend Jaime, has she paid a visit to him? If he has discovered, or suspects, my break-in, what would he do about it, besides fret? Would he dare contact Turgenev?
Between the technology challenges now confronting him, and decompressing on his return from Montreal, Jake had not noticed one collateral benefit: he hadn’t time to think about the ladies in his life, Anya, Kelly or even Leah, and whatever they might be doing or thinking about him right now.
It occurred to him that there were a couple of men in his life he also hadn’t thought about. Carter, and what more he might be after from Jake, and even that strange little man, Amir, who mysteriously showed up in the U.S. out of the blue, and then disappeared just as quickly.
JK's Code (Brooks/Lotello Thriller Book 4) Page 17
