by Olga Menson
"That would be fine," Doctor Matthews said. "Feel free to observe, just be ready to get out of the way in case we need to react quickly. We'll update you as soon as anything changes."
And so we waited. I went and got Isa, and I breakfast and brought it down. Someone would have done it for us, but it felt good to be doing something useful. I ran into Senga in the kitchen, and she assured me that all of the increased security and medical staff were being fed and housed as needed. I texted Rachel and got a brief response saying that she was in the barracks helping with the security response. I trusted both of their judgments in their respective areas, so I returned downstairs and made Isa eat. Someone had brought us chairs, and we were allowed to sit in the room with Sarah, out of the way. We owned the property, but even we had to obey the doctors. We primarily stayed silent, and eventually, Isa gave in to fatigue and fell asleep slumped on my shoulder. I was glad for it.
In the end, we only had to wait for about two hours. I was the first to notice Sarah's eye's fluttering open. I gently nudged Isa awake, and we approached the bed, instinctively wanting to be the first thing that she saw. When she smiled in recognition at us, it was as if every emotional dam inside of Isa broke at once. She sobbed in relief. The people who knew her continued to work, but they were all doing their very best not to look directly at the woman that they only knew as coldly resolute. I cried too, but I'm sure it was less of a surprise.
"I don't remember much," Sarah said at last. We hadn't pushed her for details, but she knew that we wanted to know.
"Just tell us what you want to," I replied. "Or you can wait and speak to Rachel whenever you're ready."
"No," Sarah said, "I want to tell you both while it's fresh. We were leaving the main building and headed to the hotel. It's only a few blocks, but I was tired, so I didn't mind getting in the car. At about the halfway point, security was suddenly much more alert. I could see them checking their phones and speaking in hushed tones. Then there it was like there was hail hitting the car from all directions. One of the security staff pushed my head down. Then there was the explosion. All I remember after that was waking up in the ambulance, passing out again, and waking in the hospital."
"That ambush was set very well," I noted. It became clear then why Isa felt so guilty. "Were you supposed to be on this trip, Isa?"
My sister nodded, never taking her eyes off of Sarah.
"I was supposed to be there alongside Sarah," Isa said, "and the security staff was instructed to act as if I was. They used the same callsigns for me and extended the same protection to Sarah that they would have for me. I thought I was perhaps overly cautious, but it's likely that the attack never would have happened had they known that I wasn't there."
"You couldn't have known," Sarah said immediately, reaching out and squeezing Isa's hand, "and all of us know that you had the best of intentions in making sure I was well protected. Please don't blame yourself. It...it insults me. I love this job, and I love working for you. I knew the risks that come from being a part of this life, and I accepted them."
Isa blinked at the rebuke from Sarah, and the latter blushed at her own boldness. Maybe it was whatever was in the IV that gave her the confidence, but it was good to see either way.
After that, I explained all of the events that had happened a little before the attack on Sarah's car. I told them about my narrow escape, and the unlikely aid I had received. I stressed Rachel's extreme professionalism and courage.
"Sarah's security team learned about your attack right before their own," Isa said, filling in the blanks. "I wonder if that helped them with their response. Our men drove off the attackers. We have two men seriously injured, but none killed. I think a few of the assailants died."
After we'd shared the essential news, we all spoke very quietly about what might have seemed silly things. We planned a movie night together and talked about going on a vacation. All of us were overjoyed by the relative safety of each other. I could see that Isa was still being wrestling with guilt, but Sarah's smiling face reassured her more than any amount of words from me ever could have.
After a while, we could tell that Sarah was tired, so we told her to rest and that we would be back later. Isa and I shared a significant look as we watched Sarah drift back into sleep. We didn't need to say anything. Both of us knew that whatever we learned, we would have to be swift and merciless in our response, and Father had prepared us well in that regard.
* *
After that, I visited Senga in the kitchen. I had a debt to pay, and I needed to make sure that someone 'in the know' was expecting her call.
"A girl helped me. She works at the Brigantine, said her name was Amy. She's not there voluntarily. I gave her one of our cards, but we need to get her out even if she doesn't reach out. She risked a lot helping me."
Senga wrote the name down, and I described Amy a little better. I trusted Senga to see that it would be done safely, even if we had to buy her like a piece of meat.
Then I finally allowed myself to ask the question that had been bothering me: How did our attackers know where we both would be at that exact time?
I was left with only one conclusion: there was a traitor in our house.
* * *
Traitor
* * *
It all started to come together during a quick meeting I had with Ted, the head of our InfoSec department. He found it necessary to travel to me personally and keep nothing digital on what he was going to discuss with us. He was nervous, a bit nerdy, and clearly worried that he was going to be taken out back and shot if I didn't like his answers. He was younger than I, but he knew enough about our family to be concerned.
Isa had wanted to be there, but Sarah needed her more. I understood entirely.
"Well, this was a very sophisticated attack, and it was coordinated with a local infiltration that, frankly, I don't think anyone could have predicted. You see..."
"Get to the point," I said, ice in my voice. It was covering fear and guilt, but Ted flinched. I felt for him.
"Someone broke our security and had complete access to all almost all of our critical information."
"When?" I asked, feeling a chill run up my arms.
"Well, that's the thing. It was a while ago. I checked, and there are a few servers here that could have been accessed, and our logs are incomplete. They could have been altered."
"What's your best guess."
"Four years ago. Probably late December. I'm sorry, but I can't get more certain than that."
"Why didn't you notice?" I said.
"Well, my theory is that it wasn't initially meant to attack you, per se. What we found was more of a net. It 'caught' specific terms, mostly financial ones, then forwarded the information out. It waited and hung onto emails, little bits of meaningless text. Except to whoever had the cipher."
"So," I said slowly, "this could have been meant for corporate espionage?"
"Yes, I believe so. But the software was configurable from the outside. It was risky, but at some point in the last few months, someone changed the programing to be about where both of you were going, and where you were staying. This is the part I don't understand. We should have caught it here. It was overly invasive. It was a big risk to take."
"It almost paid off," I said, looking out the window.
"Yes, sir, and I'm sorry. I'm prepared to offer my letter of resignation."
"Never mind that. How did they do it?"
"I'm not sure. The easiest way would have been to trick you or your sister into clicking a link of some kind. That would have provided the necessary access..."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I want to say that's impossible, but...we all make mistakes."
"Honestly, sir, I don't think that's what happened. I think someone accessed one of the servers here in your home. The malware primarily resided here. It wasn't really made to replicate too much, so it didn't get too far."
"So it was very subtle, stole information that was per
haps harmful financially, but then changed to looking for us, right around the time I returned to the house," I said. It wasn't a question, just a way of forming my thoughts.
We were both silent for a moment.
"How would they have done it?" I asked.
"Well, it wasn't something that anyone just made up on the spot. More than likely, it was made just for this purpose. Maybe not for your servers, specifically, but similar situations. My team believes that it didn't physically reside there, or not entirely. It might have been something that ran from an external drive, deleting itself periodically and rewriting when it went fishing for new data. We should have disabled the USB ports on your servers, but your mother was quite specific about leaving them functional as useable workstations, just in case."
"Yes. She was quite cautious."
"So, uh, sir...with your permission, I'd like to inspect the server closet in the house. No one should have been in there in at least three months, based on the uptime."
We walked out of the office and down the hall together, and I scanned us in. It was indeed a closet, located centrally in the house, but where cleaning supplies and maid uniforms once sat, several racks of hardware now hummed. There were good AC and ventilation, and a mouse, keyboard, and monitor, as my mother had apparently insisted. We looked in the front but didn't see anything. After a bit of searching, we found a USB drive, ugly, black, plastic. Like any number of cheap sticks available anywhere.
Tim reached for it, but I held out my hand.
"Tim," I said, quietly, "It would be best if no information about this drive ever came out."
"Sir...I think there's value in doing a forensic evaluation of the device. Just in case."
"Fine, but keep the results to yourself. I want no attempt to identify the person who installed it made."
"Uh, I...yes, sir."
"Tell your team that you firmly believe that Isa clicked a fishing link and infected the network. She has access, and people like it when the rich and powerful do stupid shit."
I didn't blame them, but I did feel bad about allowing Isa to look a bit like a fool. She would understand, however. It couldn't have been me, as I wasn't here at the time.
"Yes...sir," Tim said as he efficiently removed and bagged the small drive. "Is there anything else."
"You and your team did good work on this. I don't want you to beat yourselves up too much about what you missed, just worry about catching the next threat. You're all getting 20% salary increases, effective as soon as I can get them loaded. Send me the names of your team."
Tim smiled, and I smiled back. We both understood that it was a bribe, but in a way, it was an honest one. He had done good work. He and his team almost certainly did deserve a raise. They were privy to the family's secrets. Father was ruthless, but he preferred suborning to killing. 'Make your employees complicit, and protect them," was what he always told me.
I suspected that asking Tim to trace the logs of whoever swiped their way in here back in December or January of four years ago would have been easy enough to do, but I wanted to do it myself. I could find out who the traitor was, and I could do it on my own terms, with no interference. I was primarily motivated by fear, however, and suspicion. What if it was someone I knew? Or loved?
If it came to it, I thought myself capable of killing the traitor if I had to. When I was the only one who I threatened, I was mostly simply afraid, but when they hurt Sarah by targeting Isa, all bets were off.
I could kill just about anyone for either of them.
Who was the traitor? Was there just one? The time frame that infosec gave us meant that Father was still alive, but I was gone when the malware was loaded. The person had to have access to the manse and the secure server closet. They had to be able to move freely, and they needed motivation. It could have been someone on our security staff who had been suborned, perhaps even before their employment with us.
It turned out that wasn't quite right. A simple review of some of the security standards and practices related that physical security did not have access to the closet. At the time, acmes required a passcode and a physical key. The logs for that particular door had been deleted. Still, there was a list of people with both a master key for the house and the door codes at that time: Father, Mother, Rachel, Isa, and our on-site IT person. Others who wanted to work in the room had to be escorted by one of them. Paranoid, maybe, but it made sense.
I discounted the on-site IT person pretty quickly after finding that he had passed in his sleep a year prior. He could have set up any number of back doors, and he didn't need to risk going into the main house to do it. Father was paranoid, but it served him well. There was no way he would have plugged a strange thumb drive into a server. Mother would never have done anything to threaten the family. I doubted that Isa would have done it. She was capable of doing such a thing, but she had access to everything the malware was using already.
The process of elimination had left me with a very unpalatable answer. It all fit. The gnawing guilt, the endless apologies, and being on the verge of some kind of confession all pointed at one person. Rachel.
* *
To be sure of my answers, I reviewed Rachel's dossier and history. Most of it was digitally encrypted, but interestingly enough, I found that some information was in paper format only. From an opportunity standpoint, she was here at the required time window. I suspected that she had a real motive, but I'd let her explain herself. There was the possibility, no matter how remote, that she had been planted here somehow, and had always been a spy.
Still, I didn't want to believe that she had ever intended me any harm, or Isa for that matter. I would confront Rachel directly and alone. That was the only way to be sure. On a whim, I decided to review the paper-only part of her records, which I knew would be in a file safe that was built into the wall, behind a sliding panel. I told myself that it was just to be sure that I wasn't missing something. It turned out that I was, and it wasn't a small something either. I was glad that Isa wasn't there to see me poring over the files. She would have laughed at my comical expression of shock.
* *
I took her folder with me as I walked out to her residence. I nodded and smiled calmly at the armed security that seemed to be everywhere. I was amazed at my ability to remain calm. I loved Rachel, and I was sure that she'd sold us out. For all I knew, she'd get violent when confronted. I was larger than her, sure, but she was trained and indoctrinated in violence. I had no illusions of my ability to overcome her in a fight.
I knocked on the door.
"It's open," I heard a familiar voice say. It was Rachel, sure, but she didn't sound healthy. Maybe someone else wouldn't have noticed, but the upbeat, eager tone in her voice was replaced with a dead note. She sounded like someone who was resigned to her fate.
I went inside and thought again about how I wasn't armed. I could see her from the back. She sat at her small kitchen table, and as I approached her, I could see that she must have been finishing cleaning her service weapon. With smooth effort born of many years of practice, she slid the parts together with a series of metallic clicks. After it was assembled, she loaded the magazine, and to my dismay, ensured that there was a bullet in the chamber. Then she set it in front of her and simply stared at it.
I walked around the table as casually as I could. I knew where she kept her glasses. I poured us both some water, added ice, and set one glass beside her and then sat across from her. I sipped mine, but she picked her's up and drained it almost in one pull.
"Thanks," she said, calmly, and then sighed and met my eyes.
"You know why I'm here," I said, my voice quivering just slightly.
She nodded.
"I'm assuming that security is outside?"
I shook my head.
"Your assumption would be wrong. Only I know so far."
"Jesus, Reuben," Rachel said with a strange sort of frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you that you can't do things like this. I...I coul
d just kill you and leave. You can't entrust your life to...to..."
She let her sentence die off. I completed it.
"I can and do entrust my life to you. I love you, Rachel."
"Stop," she said. I didn't.
"I won't hurt you. I love you too much to..."
"Stop!"
Rachel slammed her hand down on the table hard enough to make the gun jump a little in the air. I knew that it wouldn't go off, but it still made me nervous. Tears were flowing down her face now. I could see it now, the guilt, the shame, the fear. All of it. There was no more deceit left in her.
"No. You have two choices here, in my opinion."
"Yeah? What are they?"
Her tone was challenging, almost daring me to forgive her.
"You can get up and leave. I won't stop you. You take whatever money you have, whatever you can carry, and you go. We won't pursue you. You'll be free."
She sobbed. It was disconcerting.
"I don't want to be free from you," she said in the smallest, weakest voice that I'd ever heard from her. "You're all I have."
"Well then, take the other choice. Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. Then we figure out what to do next."
Rachel met my eyes, and at once, they were young, afraid, and sad. I wanted to hold her. I knew that was the wrong thing to do. I had to let her do this her way, on her own. Then, maybe, she'd let me comfort her.
"I'll tell you, Reuben. You might hate me for doing it. If...if at the end you want me to, I'll take care of things so there won't be any mess for you to clean up..."
I sat there for a moment before I figured out what she was implying, then I almost threw up. She was like some kind of goddamned modern samurai, telling me that she'd kill herself at my word. I hated her a little bit for offering, although I knew that she did it because she thought it was the right thing to do. Instead of commenting on it, I sipped my water.
