Traitor Games

by Sidney Bristol

  Demetrius pulled out his cell and snapped a picture of the pin, then the longer number on the display. The two together would create the two-factor authentication needed to access any number of secure machines. And this poor, dumb kid just left it lying around.

  It was Demetrius’s lucky day.

  …

  Wednesday. Safe House, Hamburg, Germany.

  Fucking hell…

  Noah blinked at the desktop.

  It worked.

  They were in.

  For another moment he and Andy sat there staring at the average blue desktop with a smattering of files cluttering up the view.

  Demetrius had scored the passcode.

  “We have to scrape as much data as we can.” Andy leaned forward and began typing, his fingers flying on the keys.

  “How long until they know we’re in?” Noah asked.

  “Who knows? I’m digging, but this passcode could be blown. I’m going to try to fool the system and set up a new account. Go get another one of the terminals up. We need all the processing power we can get.”

  Noah couldn’t disagree. They each had their part to play now. Andy was the techno whiz who’d milk the network for everything it had. Noah’s specialty was booby-trapping the hell out of shit, or in this case, dismantling someone else’s traps. They each had their strengths.

  He checked the time.

  They were officially into the morning hours. No doubt the others would wake up soon and they’d have more people underfoot. He needed to take advantage of the quiet while they had it, before Brandon was demanding answers and the others begging for a plan.

  Whatever their next move was, it had to be informed. They’d done too much on too little information and a lot of people were now dead. Noah wouldn’t let Lillian be the next one on that list.

  He set to work disabling the first point of ignition. The problem with so many physical fail-safe measures on an object like this was that a person had to put them in. And that meant a person could take them out. A couple of screwdrivers, a little spray foam and the first hurtle was cleared. He spread his diagram of the first computer tower out on the table next to him and set to work.

  This part was mindless.

  Find the detonator, surround it in foam, repeat.

  At some point they needed to talk about Brandon and how they were going to proceed. Lillian thought she could manage the guy, but Noah wasn’t comfortable with that and it wasn’t his possessiveness speaking. Brandon wanted revenge and he’d use whatever tool at his disposal. Even Lillian. Her heart was too good to see that.

  He compared his diagram to the insides of the tower.

  “This one’s done.” He straightened and stretched. Computer work shouldn’t be this exhausting.

  He moved on to the next computer. With any luck, they’d be ready to run multiple terminals once the others were awake. By tonight they could have some hard evidence on their side to determine their next best move.

  What was the best move for Lillian?

  That was the question that had begun to nag him.

  She wouldn’t always need him. If they took care of SICA, if they removed those players from the world map, then she could be free to have a new life. Not in America. It was doubtful any of them would ever be cleared of the traitor status. There were plenty of places across the world where she could live out her life in comfort. Away from him.

  She deserved a better life than this. It wasn’t fair to ask her to stay with him. They weren’t truly anything to each other. Need had put them together, but that didn’t mean they had to stay together. If Lillian wanted to strike out on her own, could he let her go? Would he?

  “Morning,” Carol said.

  Noah glanced up and his gaze landed on Lillian. Her lips curved into a smile. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, and if he wasn’t mistaken she had lines from the sheets still on her cheek.

  “You made progress?” Carol asked.

  Andy was so in the zone he probably wasn’t hearing them.

  Noah tore his gaze off Lillian.

  “We got a passcode, but we don’t know how long it’ll be before they know we’re in. He’s setting us up with a back door and hopefully our own passcode.” Noah nodded at the computer tower on the end of the table he was working at. “When he’s done you can get started on that one.”

  Carol gaped at him. “How’d you get a passcode?”

  Both Carol and Lillian closed in on him from different sides.

  “Like, a two-authentication passcode?” Lillian asked.

  “Yup. Looks like our new friend really wants to be a friend.” Noah was beginning to understand how it could be true. He peered at Lillian out of the corner of his eye. If they took her, he’d do a lot to get her back. Stuff he wouldn’t be proud of.

  “Holy shit,” Lillian murmured.

  “Helping him out has to be a priority once we get a handle on what the next step is,” he said.

  Lillian nodded. “Of course.”

  “Were you briefed on our new friend?” Noah asked Carol.

  “The basics, which I’m guessing you know. They have his daughters.” Carol’s face creased in worry. “From the sound of it, they’ve had their eye on Demetrius for a while. If that’s the case, it’ll be documented. These people operate like we do.”

  “Babe?” Andy said. It was the first thing he’d spoken in over an hour.

  Carol walked away without another word.

  Lillian reached out and took Noah’s hand. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

  “No.”

  “Noah… You can’t keep pushing yourself. You need to rest. Both you and Andy. Lack of sleep leads to additional stress. Stress… You know that doesn’t do anything good to a person.” She tilted her head and squeezed his hand.

  “Don’t worry about me. You sleep okay?”

  “Okay.” She peered up at him through her lashes. “I kind of got used to having you around. It was weird sleeping alone.”

  Noah balled his hands into fists. Now wasn’t the time to push her up against the wall and kiss that pretty mouth of hers.

  “We’re starting the data scraping process,” Carol announced. “I need to find another monitor and keyboard for this tower.”

  Noah wanted her, but he couldn’t have her. “I think there’s one we can steal in that meeting room down the hall. I’ll get it.”

  They were getting somewhere, and with luck they’d end this. After that, he’d have to figure out how to let Lillian go. His career with the CIA was over. He’d be out from under the umbrella of their protection, which left him vulnerable to the enemies he’d stocked up on over the years. Out, working solo, he’d have a target on his back. She didn’t deserve to be in the crosshairs of his enemies because he was fucked up.

  …

  Lillian sat back, her mind mushy, and stared at the five-foot map pinned to the wall.

  Five computers were up scraping data. They’d gone through four logins and Andy was making more so that when their current credentials were shut down they could login with new ones and keep going. It was virtual whack-a-mole and for once they were winning.

  Unfortunately, the picture they were creating with the gathered intel was devastating.

  Initially, they’d assumed SICA’s reach mirrored the CIA’s, and then they discovered that SICA was imbedded in other global organizations as well. What they’d only been able to guess at were the resources SICA managed independently of every other intel agency.

  They were beginning to understand the size of the beast they were up against.

  Mitch and Irene crossed the room with a new set of printouts in hand.

  They’d developed a system.

  Andy kept their access going.

  The techs monitored the data they collected from SICA’s servers.

  Carol sorted the data into batches, finding the patterns and grouping them. When a batch got big enough, she sent a cumulative report to the printer.

  Mitch and Irene por
ed over that, making notes and highlighting, and when a new batch started printing they delivered what they’d worked on to Lillian.

  She gleaned data from those reports for key pieces, locations, numbers, and assembled it on their map. She had a knack for patterns, much like Carol. They’d both attended the CIA Academy, roomed together, and taken the same classes. It was their life experience that shaped that education. Where Carol had a hyper focus on government and espionage, Lillian had applied her knowledge in a more social context.

  “What’d you bring me?” She didn’t take her eyes off the map.

  Mitch handed the stack of pages to her. “These are all independent sites. Warehouses, I think.”

  Irene perched on the arm of Lillian’s chair. “They might match up—”

  “With the shipping records?” Lillian glanced at Irene. “I was wondering if we’d get something that filled in those holes.”

  “How’s our big picture looking?” Irene asked.

  “We’re getting some idea of their resources.” Lillian gestured at the board. “I’d say they have more physical holdings than manpower, which means they’re likely working with a lot of freelancers, people who don’t know who they’re working for. That might also give them some leeway with the people they lie to and tell them they’re the CIA or whatever other organization they’re impersonating.”

  Mitch tapped a red pin. “Which colors are what? Is red manpower?”

  “Yes, red where we know they have people. I can’t yet tell if those people are double agents working in another agency or if they’re dedicated SICA-only sites. We’re going to need help identifying which sites belong to whom.” Lillian pointed at the black pins. “Judging by their manpower, if we hit their resources their infrastructure could crumble. We’d have to be certain who these locations belong to, though. It’d be easy to create a worldwide incident if intel offices keep getting hit.”

  “Not to mention we’re the ones most likely to get blamed for it,” Mitch said.

  “There’s that, too.” By now Camilla, their family, and anyone who’d ever called Lillian a friend would have seen the news from the UK. She was an internationally wanted woman.

  “Should we warn Jesse and Kevin?” he asked.

  “Yeah. He’s probably already watching my sister, but let’s give him a heads up. Bring Kevin into the loop, too.”

  Jesse’s primary job had been her protection, with Carol’s half brother, Kevin, serving as backup. Right now the two men had no role in things, but Lillian figured the team would need them before all of this was over.

  “I like your plan,” Irene mused. “We know they’re brokering information to the highest bidder. If we knocked their legs out from under them and discredited their people, their intel would be worthless.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, but I’m not sure how we’d manage that.” Lillian knew more than anyone how perception could destroy a person.

  That was what the Matthews Corp was all about. They fixed situations, made the public see a person the way they wanted them to, and when that didn’t work they made a new truth.

  Not all of their clients were as squeaky clean as Secretary of State Grant. Lillian had worked with people who were one step away from being Satan in her book. She wasn’t always proud of the work she did, which was why Carol’s plea for help had appealed to her. Signing on to this group and this mission was the right thing to do. And it was costing her everything.

  If they succeeded, it would be worth it.

  Mitch, Irene and Lillian continued to stare at the map in silence.

  “Do you think…Mr. Grant could help?” She kept her voice low.

  “There’s a very good possibility,” Irene said.

  “Do we have a way of contacting him?” Lillian asked.

  “We do.”

  “I want to take a picture and send it to him. If we can eliminate some of these locations as agency offices we can get a better idea of their independent infrastructure. Once we know that, we could have a better grasp of where and how to hit them.” Lillian could feel the surge of momentum. Her idea wasn’t all that bad.

  “If we got some hacktivist on our side we could hit them from two ways,” Irene said.

  Lillian nodded. “Make people see the situation how we want them to.” This was her specialty. This was what she’d been groomed to do from the day her aunt carried her into the Matthews Corp office with Camilla and told them they were her heirs.

  “I smell fire. What are you cooking?” Noah ambled over and leaned on the other side of Lillian’s chair.

  She stood. “I think…I think we have a plan.” If they destroyed SICA’s reputation, they destroyed their wealth. Without money or intel, SICA was nothing.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wednesday. White House, Washington, D.C.

  Dave Campbell kept his hands folded on the leather notebook in his lap and his eyes on the people.

  It wasn’t every day he got to visit a sitting president at the White House. Director Donovan’s death had created quite a stir. With any luck, they’d name Dave’s counterpart, a savvy woman with her eye on the director’s desk, as the next in line. He could only assume that today was about that, or any number of sensitive operations under Donovan’s purview that’d been shifted in the last few days.

  As of yet, Dave’s interaction with President Fowler was only during his days as a senator on the security committee. Dave had ensured he was cordial with the members, but never on a level that might be mistaken as friendship. He’d worked long and hard to attain his Assistant Director position, and he was content here. He had access to the people, resources, and intel necessary to do both jobs.

  A young woman approached him with a smile. “Mr. Campbell? President Fowler will see you now.”

  Dave pasted on a smile. “Wonderful.”

  He pushed to his feet and followed the woman to the door of the oval office.

  The young woman stepped aside at the last moment, letting Dave enter. “Mr. Campbell, sir.”

  President Fowler looked up from his desk, his glasses perched low on his nose. “Dave, good to see you.”

  “Mr. President, it’s good to see you.” Dave held out his hand.

  Fowler pulled the glasses off and set them on his desk. He stood and came to greet Dave with a firm handshake.

  “Sit down, please. We’ve got a lot we’d like to discuss with you.” Fowler gestured at the sofas where his Chief of Staff sat, a binder perched on one thigh.

  “Of course. I must admit, I’m not up to date on what this meeting is about. No one could tell me.” Dave eased down onto the sofa, his leather notebook in hand.

  Fowler settled across from him, those laser eyes focused on Dave.

  A lot of people liked to call Fowler a celebrity-like personality, but those people hadn’t been in a room alone with the man. Fowler was sharp and dangerous.

  The silence stretched on, each of them measuring the other.

  This wasn’t a typical meeting…

  Dave had a sneaking suspicion he was about to be blindsided. Did Fowler know? Did he suspect Dave knew the truth about his son’s activity? Where Mitch was?

  Fowler’s lips spread into a grin, and then he said the most terrifying words Dave had ever heard.

  “I want you to become the next Director of the CIA.”

  …

  Wednesday. Safe House, Hamburg, Germany.

  “Thank you, Mr. Secretary.” Lillian’s hands shook as she jotted down the final notes.

  “Do you know how you’re going to use this information?” His voice was a little distorted due to the heavy encryption, but it was still the Mr. Grant Lillian knew.

  “I believe we do, sir.” She’d thought the security summit was terrifying. This? It was a whole other level of scary.

  “Should you identify other members besides Hector Martinez, I would like to know.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Godspeed and good luck to you and your team,
Ms. Matthews.”

  Her throat tightened. “Thank you, sir.”

  The line clicked and the call ended.

  She dropped the phone into her lap while her mind whirled.

  The pieces were falling into place.

  Everyone was waiting for her to change the color of the pins and formulate the plan. She was the hub, the one pulling it all together. Because that was her skill. She saw the big picture with clearer eyes.

  They were about to do something crazy, something that needed doing.

  She collected her notes and headed toward the door.

  When she’d begun this journey, it was something she could do from the safety of her home for the benefit of millions of people. The locations had changed, but the goals were still the same.

  Lillian exited the small room. Several of Brandon’s people waited in the hall. They weren’t doing closed-door things anymore. Every person with them was in, for personal or practical reasons, she didn’t know.

  She stepped foot in the long meeting room. Andy and Carol still manned the computers. Noah and the rest were poring over printouts. The rest paused what they were doing. She strode across to the map.

  They’d swapped out the green pins, choosing to hold those in reserve for this moment.

  She checked her notes, locating the first of four locations Mr. Grant had helped her identify besides the London location.

  Warsaw, Poland.

  Tel Aviv, Israel.

  Taipei, Taiwan.

  Toronto, Canada.

  Lillian faced the room.

  Brandon stood dead center, his gaze boring into her. They were doing this for people like Mol. Innocents. They were doing it for a safer tomorrow.

  “Through a process of elimination we now know these four high-activity locations are SICA hubs, likely larger than the warehouse in London, if we can trust the data we’re processing.” She stared around the room. “We know from shipping manifests these locations see a lot of equipment through them. Based on London, there’s no more than a dozen people stationed in each place, and half of those are noncombatants.”

  The room seemed to vibrate with an electric hum. They’d called on just about every team member to create plans, options, variants of plans, but they all came down to one thing.