by S J Grey
“Um… okay.” Devin grabbed his phone. “What can I get you, Andi?”
“Flat white, please. Large.”
He tapped a note. “Everyone else want their usual?” He raised his voice to the others. Nods returned. “Be right back,” he said and headed for the door.
Devin was the weakest point in the team—the most junior and eager to please, and if she was right, he crushed on her a little. She could work with that.
“I’ll come with you.” She grabbed her wallet and phone. “I need to get some breakfast anyway, and I can give you a hand.”
“Sure,” he said, his face lighting up.
She waited until they were out on the street, before she spoke. “Caleb has a much bigger team than I expected. How long have you all been working together?”
“The other guys are only seconded for the red team exercise. Normally, Caleb works alone, with me for admin.”
“Jonathan is in charge while Caleb’s not here?”
“That’s right. He’s the most senior person.”
“It’s kinda hard to get a footing in a team when you’re the newbie.” She made sure she sounded uncertain. “It feels like they know each other really well.”
Devin laughed. “Yeah, that’s because they all work for the Security Intelligence Agency. You’ve signed the NDA, so you can’t tell anyone, but that’s where we’re on secondment from. They’re running the exercise.”
That’s what she figured. It was good to have her assumption confirmed. “Wow. You too?”
“Yeah, but I’m at a very junior level.”
“Everyone starts at the bottom. I’ve already got a feel for your skills, and you should go far.” Was her flattery too much?
Pink edged his cheeks when he looked at her. “Caleb was giving me extra responsibilities—collating the data we find.”
“And working up the graphics mock-ups,” said Andi. “That email footer is top notch.”
“Thanks.” He hurried forwards and opened the café door for her. “It’s great, having you on the team. A different perspective, you know?”
“Because I’m female, or because I don’t work for SIA?” She tried to keep the tart note from her question.
“Because you’re new to the team and you have fresh ideas.” Devin followed her inside. “Like taking a scoop of hot chips and adding a dollop of tomato sauce. It completely changes how it tastes, right?”
“So I’m a dollop of tomato sauce?” She was teasing.
He laughed, and then groaned and covered his face with one hand. “I’m an idiot. That came out all wrong.”
She touched his sleeve. “Nah. It sums me up nicely. Sweet-slash-sour. I can live with that. You don’t mind me, asking you questions while I get up to speed with everything, do you?”
“Of course not. Ask me anything. Anytime.” Yes, he had a definite blush going. It wasn’t fair to lead him on, but she had a job to do, and he might be able to help.
When they returned to the office, they found the atmosphere subdued.
Jonathan sat on the edge of a desk and called for attention. “We don’t know how long Caleb is going to be held for questioning. I’ve sent some feelers out, to find what’s going on, but there’s no guarantee I can get anything. From what we do know, this sounds like a direct attack on him, from persons unknown. We can assume there’s a connection to Nicole Golden, from what we’ve seen. He’s got a lawyer on the way, so he’s not alone, but we can all do our part in getting this cleared up.”
He took a drink of coffee and looked around the room, making eye contact with each person in turn. “What I want is to split our focus. Get the red team exercise underway, like we planned, but also throw our weight behind the investigation into Nicole Golden and Freddie Sparks. My gut tells me the house fire is related too. It could be noise, to distract Caleb’s attention, and from what, we don’t know. This means we may be kicking off the late hours sooner, rather than later. I don’t know about you, but I’m pissed that someone is taking shots at Caleb. He’s one of us now. That means they take on all of us. Agreed?”
There were determined nods and agreements from everyone in the team, Andi included.
“Okay,” said Jonathan. “Back to business. Let’s brainstorm the plans for tomorrow morning, and then I’ll check with Caleb’s lawyer, to see what the news is.”
They ran through the plans for the fire evacuation and made sure everyone involved was clear on their roles. Devin would create dummy ID badges, to help the illusion.
Toby lifted his hand. “I want to access their printers today. I’ll go in as an engineer, and say I’ve been called by someone to fix the printer used by Reception. If they get suspicious, I’ll invent an excuse and leave.”
Jonathan nodded. “Make it quick, though. And keep a cap on, so your face isn’t clearly visible.”
“Will do.” He grinned at Devin. “Our resident graphics designer here has found a polo shirt for me and added a label with FixPrint.” They were the main service engineers in the city. “According to their website, they support numerous government departments including the DTI.”
Jonathan turned to Andi. “I believe you’re good at finding people.”
“Yep. That’s my speciality.”
“I want you to focus on digging into the digital footprints of Nicole Golden, her husband, and Freddie Sparks. Get me everything you can. In particular, who Freddie’s enemies were. Who he owed money to. Whether he was behind the sex tape, or if that’s one of Nicole’s fabrications. Assume everything she’s told us so far is a lie.”
“Freddie Sparks sounds like a stage name,” said Devin, thoughtfully. “I could check to see if he’s filed a legal change of name. It might be an assumed name, but not an official one.”
“Do it,” said Jonathan. “By the way, if anyone is concerned about getting into trouble for deviating from the red team challenge, don’t be. We have authority to do pretty much anything. Keep it transparent. For all we know, the Blue Team is trying a pre-emptive strike on the Red Team Leader.” He folded his arms, looking every inch in charge. “Any questions?”
Andi fired up her laptop. Her search engines were far reaching and tapped into places normal internet browsing would never see. She’d hit up the dark web, a playground she was intimately familiar with, but first she dug into the deep web. The average Joe on the street didn’t understand the difference. They assumed the terms were interchangeable, but Andi knew differently. The deep web was simply the data beneath the surface. Every archived record could be found in the deep web if you knew where to look.
She took some time to configure her search strings, and then launched in. Car registration records. Insurance policies. High-school exam results. Mortgage payments. Cell-phone bills. Library cards.
While the preliminary searches ran, she dipped into TOR, the standard dark-web browser. It was a good starting point. Here, she logged into her favourite forums and began the slow process of searching for her target’s names in the stolen email and password sites. She was methodical and patient. Finding records was her bread and butter, and she was a pro. Good data took time.
With multiple searches running, and nothing more to do immediately, she took a break. Stretching her back, she rubbed her neck. She was hungry. Was it lunchtime yet?. Devin had kept her topped up with hot coffee from the machine in the kitchen, and that was a sweet gesture. She would definitely use him to her advantage.
What happened to her? She never used to be so single minded. So focused on her goal that people didn’t matter anymore.
Her phone vibrated and she checked the screen. Griff had texted her twice in the last hour, and she didn’t notice. Biting back a yawn, she read the messages.
Griff: We need to talk, said the first one. The second one came in straight after.
Griff: Your new boss is in the news again. Really don’t like you working for him. I don’t trust him.
Griff included a link to the Online Herald editorial page, and she clicked
it.
The headline read, How did Caleb Rush break out of jail—and why is he still free?
It was accompanied by a file photo of Caleb. It looked like his prison mugshot. With his cropped hair, scruffy beard, and scowl, he looked like a thug.
That journalist who’d been trying to get an interview with him… Didn’t she work for the Online Herald? Andi scrolled to the by-line. A. Smith.
She had to read it.
Let’s say you were convicted of manslaughter, for killing your stepfather in a brutal and bloody attack. You’re halfway through your sentence, and you decide to break out. We’ll get to the HOW part of that in a minute. But there you are, diverting our police force’s attention for TWO WHOLE DAYS while you’re on the run, before you’re finally caught. At this point, you SHOULD be locked up again and the key thrown away, but SOMEHOW instead, you’re granted parole. When I last checked, this was only available to criminals who were examples of GOOD behaviour. Despite an in-depth investigation, nobody is willing to fess up to HOW you managed to escape or what they’re doing to stop other criminals from doing the same.
Chapter Fifteen
Yowza. Andi felt singed just from reading the piece. Talk about vitriol. Whoever A. Smith was, did they have a grievance against Caleb, or the justice system in general? Hard to tell.
Her phone vibrated again. Another message from Griff.
Griff: Ancient proverb. If you lie down with dogs you get fleas. The modern twist is: if you work with an asshole like Caleb Rush, your professional reputation will suffer.
Griff really had his panties in a twist at the moment. How should she reply? He was only looking out for her, in his usual heavy-handed way, and that made it difficult to be angry with him.
Andi: The job isn’t just with him; there’s an entire team. It’s all good. You don’t need to worry.
She didn’t give a flying fart about her reputation. She delivered, and that was all that mattered to anyone who hired her. All the same, she’d hold off telling Griff that Caleb was being questioned for another death. It sure looked as though he was being fitted up.
It was past lunchtime, and she was hungry. She tapped Devin’s desk to get his attention. “I’m going out for a sandwich,” she said when he looked up from the screen. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Before she left, Toby and Nat returned, grinning from ear to ear. “We didn’t need a cover story,” said Toby. “When we arrived, the lady on Reception grabbed me to look at their printer, which had jammed. I ended up slapping a Do Not Use sticker on it, but in the process, I managed to find not only the device ID on their network, but also the IP address. And get this—they still use fax machines. And now we have the IP address of their printer, and the number for their fax…” He high-fived Nat.
“Boom,” they said together.
Devin looked puzzled. “What’s significant about a fax?”
“If it’s unsecured—and the probability of that is beyond high,” said Andi, “then we have an entry point to their network. They almost never have firewalls. There was a white-hat hacker who took over fax machines. Remember? He sent people warning faxes, telling them they’d been compromised. He paved the way for infiltrating via fax.”
Good work,” said Jonathan. “Let’s see if you can get in. And don’t forget to upload any photos you took, so Devin can document them.”
“Will do,” said Toby. “Did we miss anything?”
Lunch could wait. Andi wanted to listen to this first.
“I tracked down the triple-one call that reported the fire at Caleb’s place,” said Jonathan. “It was made from a cell phone that’s no longer on the network. Probably a burner, no pun intended. I’ve got a recording of the call, when you’re ready to listen to it. I should have confirmation of the location of the caller soon. You might not be aware, but all triple-one calls automatically log the caller’s location, whether they have location services switched on or not. EnZed is one of the few countries to enable this functionality.”
Jonathan placed his phone on Devin’s desk and hit Play.
“What’s the nature of the emergency?” the operator asked.
There was a pause, and then a rustling noise. “There’s a fire at my neighbour’s house.” A male voice, slightly muffled, with no discernible accent. A distant rumble sounded in the background. “It’s supposed to be empty, but I’ve seen squatters hanging around. They might be inside. Come quickly. It’s burning hard as fuck.” He spoke quickly. “The address is 103 Raukawa Road.”
The recording stopped.
“That’s where they disconnected,” said Jonathan. “Thoughts?”
“The background noise,” said Nat. “Sounds like traffic. Near a motorway, maybe?”
“Have the police talked to the neighbours, to see who made the call?” Devin asked.
“I imagine so. They’re pretty thorough.” Jonathan looked around the group. “Anyone familiar with this location? The houses are widely spread along the road. It’d be unlikely for any of them to be aware of squatters if they’re not actually going onto the property.” His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up. “This is Jonathan.” He listened, a smile growing on his face. “Thanks. Email that to me as well.”
He disconnected. “The emergency call was made from close to the Garden Centre in Peka Peka, not far from State Highway 1. That’s easily two kilometres from Caleb’s place and explains the traffic noise in the background. Sounds like his defence is getting stronger by the minute.”
“Good to know,” said a voice from the door.
Andi looked up, to see Caleb standing there. He looked exhausted.
“Dude. You’re back,” said Jonathan. “Good to see you. What’s happening?”
“Don’t know if you heard, but it was Freddie Sparks’ body they pulled out of my house.”
Wow. Jonathan said earlier that he thought there was a connection with the fire, and this was it. What kind of people was Caleb mixed up with? Was Griff right, about her working here?
Whether he was or not, Andi was intrigued. This mystery had red flags plastered all over it, and if there was one thing she hated, it was corruption.
Caleb was speaking again. “The cops are trying their damnedest to scrape up evidence,” he said, “but they don’t have enough to charge me. Not yet, anyway. What have you found?”
Jonathan recapped about the phone call. “If the caller was close to the highway, there’s no way they could see your house. They might see a blaze in the distance, but they couldn’t pinpoint the location.”
“What about the timing of the call?” Caleb asked. “Timed for just before I arrived?”
“Looks like it, but that could be coincidence. Let’s chart the sequence of events.” Jonathan moved to the smartboard and picked up the stylus.
“Freddie is murdered,” he said. “We don’t know yet if it was in Caleb’s house or elsewhere. Forensics might be able to help, depending on how much is left after the fire. His body is dumped in an upstairs bedroom. A fire is started downstairs that spreads rapidly upstairs—most likely with an accelerant. The arsonist-slash-murderer leaves. That all takes time, even if it was planned down to fine details. Let’s assume the same person calls it in to the emergency services, but from a safe distance. We can also assume they want Freddie to be retrieved while it’s still easy to identify the body, in order to implicate Caleb further.”
“Let’s add the timings,” said Caleb. “My alarm system was tripped at 01:10. Probably when they arrived at the house. I left home soon after, and arrived at Peka Peka an hour later. I know sweet FA about house fires, but this one was burning like a bastard when I arrived. Tell me again, what time was the phone call made?”
“Ten minutes before you got there,” said Jonathan. “You might have driven past them, or you might have just missed them. Do you remember seeing any other vehicles nearby?”
“Didn’t see anyone after I left the highway, but the cops kept asking about my bike and the route I took. T
hey were hinting that they had a witness. Maybe one of the locals saw or heard a bike go past.”
“What about GPS on your phone?” Andi asked. “That’d show where you were.”
“I keep location services switched off,” Caleb replied. He shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t like being tracked. This time, it’s working against me. The cops also think that’s suspicious.” He looked at Jonathan. “That reminds me—I’ll take my phone back now. Did Mark call?”
Jonathan handed over a cell phone. “Nothing from him. Should I be worried?”
“Not yet. I’ll let you know. Thanks for that.”
Andi watched their body language as they spoke. Caleb crossed his arms, as though confident, but there was a hunted look in his eyes. A look she recognised.
“We’re running searches on Nicole, Dimitri, and Frankie, to see what we can dig up,” said Jonathan. “This all comes back to Nicole.”
“Yeah, that was something else the cops talked about. They have a handwritten letter from her. What the fuck is that all about? Why don’t they interview her?”
Andi’s laptop chimed, and she unlocked the screen. One of her searches completed. She scanned the results. “I can tell you why they haven’t interviewed Nicole yet.” Looking up, she made eye contact with Caleb. “She’s in hospital, under heavy sedation, after taking a massive overdose.”
“Great,” he said. “Just fan-fucking-tastic.”
“They mentioned a letter?” Jonathan asked. “We need to see that. I’ll lean on my contacts and see what they can find. We often run counter-agency investigations, where we work closely with the police. I know this process sucks giant donkey balls, but DS Miller is honest. He’ll want to know the truth. The days of fitting up suspects are long gone.”
Caleb drew his brows together in a fierce scowl. “Maybe from your side of the fence. But from where I’m standing, the cops have done it to me once. I didn’t kill my stepfather, but I still served three fucking years behind bars.” Pain underlined his words. He clenched his fists. “Don’t tell me how much this process sucks. I’m living it every goddamned day.” He huffed a breath. “Anything else happen today?”
