Cyber Terror (13 page)

Jordan turned towards her. “Do you mean he could’ve got into it and deleted something or other?”

Raven took a deep breath. “He’d have to get past some heavy protection. I can get in because I’ve got high-level clearance. If Short Circuit hasn’t, he’d have to be
red hot to hack into these sorts of files. But I guess he is.”

“Yeah.”

“By the way,” she said, “I’ve got that HiSpec list for you, whittled down to fifty-four people with the expertise and authority to influence chip design. I copied it into
your part of the system.”

He nodded. “Thanks. Still fifty-four, though?”

She frowned, apparently taking his comment as a criticism. “You should be pleased. That’s a lot better than 613.”

“I guess so. I’ll take a look.”

Jordan’s relentless afternoon of phone calls continued. His mobile hardly left his hand. “Hello? Is that Jordan Stryker?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Dipak Hardikar. I’ve got some news for you.”

Jordan looked around. Raven was not within hearing. “Great. What is it?”

“Not so great, I’m afraid. Madison Flint died in an accident sixteen months ago.”

“What happened?”

“A woman’s car broke down on an unmanned level crossing. A train ploughed into it. Big crash – and quite a lot of confusion. They thought five had died, but it turned out to be
six. Madison Flint was one of them.”

“Is there a description of her?”

“Better than that. A newspaper printed pictures of all the victims. Just their faces.”

“Can you send Madison Flint’s mugshot to my phone?”

“Not immediately. Let me ring off and I’ll do it in a minute.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Jordan ended the call but kept the mobile in his palm. Every few seconds, he glanced down at it, hoping to see Madison Flint, half knowing what to expect.

The phone bleeped when the image arrived. Even though he’d anticipated the face he would see, he still drew in a sharp breath. He recognized her immediately. Madison Flint was undoubtedly
a slightly younger version of Raven.

But what did it mean? Why hadn’t she told him that she once worked at HiSpec?

Raven probably deleted her real name from the list to cover up her past. That seemed to be the way in Unit Red. She had apparently died – like Ben Smith – and then resurfaced as an
agent with an entirely different name – like Jordan Stryker. In reality, she probably hadn’t been anywhere near that train crash. Angel was powerful enough to arrange a funeral for Ben
Smith and alter the details of Phil Lazenby’s death. He’d probably set up this fiction so Madison could disown her history and emerge as Raven.

But Jordan feared there was an alternative explanation. Raven had suggested that Short Circuit might be a microchip designer at HiSpec. Maybe she was right. But Raven herself had been a
microchip designer at HiSpec. By removing her old name from the HiSpec staff list, was Raven hiding her past identity or the possibility that she was a murderer? And what was Jordan going to do
about it?

Coming into the room, Angel interrupted Jordan’s thoughts. “That amateur pilot who got on board Flight BA460 was quite like Toby Cotterill. But natural similarity wasn’t
enough. He’d had plastic surgery to finish the job. Anyway, I’ve checked him out. No particular knowledge of electronics and no connection with Suffolk. He’s not Short Circuit. As
far as I can see, you stumbled on a different plot altogether. I’ve given him to the normal security services.”

“Okay,” Jordan replied.

“Is something bothering you?”

“Er...no.” Jordan wasn’t yet ready to talk about Raven. First, he wanted to make up his mind how to deal with the troubling information he’d just received.

Angel frowned. “Sure?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t true, of course. He felt utterly unsure.

Angel’s sudden appearance reminded Jordan that, when he’d phoned from Ipswich, his chief had said, “I don’t know where Raven is, but she’s not here.” That
meant Raven too could have been in Ipswich. And, with her inside knowledge, she would know enough to take control of his Jaguar for one disastrous minute.

“All right,” Angel said, realizing that Jordan didn’t want a discussion. “I’ll leave you to it. But first...” He handed Jordan a British passport.
“That’s for your hacker, Dipak Hardikar.”

Straight after breakfast on Friday, Jordan took Kate into the cemetery where they would not be overheard. There, he told her that Madison Flint had been Raven’s name
before she’d joined Unit Red.

“Ah, that’s it, then,” Kate replied as they strolled past the overgrown monuments. “She was just covering up her history when she scrubbed that name from the HiSpec list.
It’s not a big deal.”

“But...”

“What?”

“You know when we were in Sudbury? Where was Raven?”

Kate inclined her head in the direction of the Unit Red house. “Here. You called her on the way back to London.”

“That was late. Where was she when Victoria Truman and the judge died?”

Kate came to a sudden stop. “What are you saying?”

Jordan shrugged. “I’m just...thinking aloud. She doesn’t like me. Keeps giving me funny looks.”

“Haven’t you worked out why? I reckon she’s wary of you because she can never be sure she’s private when you’re around. Know what I mean?”

He nodded. She was referring to his terahertz vision. “But I haven’t looked through her clothes. To be honest, there’s not much to look at.”

Relaxing, Kate laughed. “But she’s proud of what she’s got. A bit vain, even.”

As they resumed their walk, Jordan gazed at his handler. “You don’t seem so touchy about it.”

“I’m a firefighter and engineer – or I was. Surrounded by big beefy blokes. I couldn’t afford to be precious about such things. You ought to have heard the comments. On
second thoughts, maybe you shouldn’t.” She hesitated before changing the subject. “Short Circuit didn’t have to be in Sudbury, you know. If he’s doing it all by
hacking, he could be anywhere as long as he’s in front of a computer.”

“He’s got to be close if he’s using hardware Trojans. That’s what Raven said. Either way, he – or she – must have been in Ipswich on Saturday to know Phil
Lazenby was in my car.”

“True,” said Kate. “Good point.”

Interrupted by the ringing of his phone, Jordan stopped by a crooked cross and answered the call.

“I’ve been on this all night,” Dipak complained. “I’m getting nowhere with HiSpec’s bank and the workers on its payroll now.”

“Forget it, then,” Jordan replied. “Anything else?”

“You asked me about four people. Phil Lazenby, Carlton Reed, Paige Ottaway and Victoria Truman. I found out lots about the pilot, the bass player and the councillor, but Victoria
Truman’s a blank and there’s nothing that links them all.”

“Oh. That’s a shame. To say the least.”

“If I can’t find it, I doubt if anyone can,” Dipak said. “In fact, if I can’t find it, I doubt if it exists.”

Jordan sighed.

“I’ve done all I can,” Dipak continued, “so what about my passport?”

“I’ve got it. I’ll put it in the post today. And thanks.”

Jordan ended the call. He was about to put his mobile back in his pocket when it rang again. This time, it was Sam Ottaway. Paige’s son said, “Dad’s not precise about when, but
he reckons Mum did jury service quite a few years ago.”

At once, Jordan’s heart began to beat faster. “Is he sure? It’s important.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” Jordan said.

“Well, he’s sure. He remembers because she was proud of being made the jury foreman.”

“Did she say what the case was?”

“I don’t think so. Anyway,” Sam said, “I don’t see what it’s got to do with Mum’s treatment and the hospital’s mistake.”

“Neither do I,” Jordan replied. “But there might be a connection. Thanks.”

Straight away, he said to Kate, “Paige Ottaway was on jury service.”

“It’s beginning to look significant.”

“Yes. She was foreman of the jury.”

Kate smiled. “I think you’ll find she was
forewoman
.”

Jordan’s mouth opened and he stared at her, his spine tingling.

“What have I said?” she asked.

“Forewoman. Which begins with forew. Which is as far as Phil Lazenby got when the car went into overdrive. I bet he was writing
forewoman
on her photo. He recognized her! He must
have done. He must have been on the same jury!”

“Right,” Angel said. “Jordan’s onto something. It looks like Phil Lazenby, Paige Ottaway and Carlton Reed were on jury service in East Anglia. And
Justice Jackson was in the same area. You can link Lazenby to Ottaway for sure, because of what he wrote in the car, but I don’t yet see a certain connection to the others.”

“They’re all dead,” Jordan replied immediately.

“Through electronic mishaps,” Kate added.

Angel nodded. “Mmm. But strangely, we haven’t got an official record of them being on the same jury – or any jury, if it comes to that. I suppose Short Circuit – clever
with computers – could have hacked his way in there and destroyed the jury list.” He looked around at them all. “So, what’s our next move?” He was probably full of
ideas, but he wanted to hear theirs.

Jordan was not going to announce his intentions when there was a chance that Short Circuit was in the room. He was concerned that Raven had the necessary clearance to open and perhaps alter the
jury database. Knowing that she’d already deleted an entry from the HiSpec file, he was wondering if she had tinkered with the court records as well.

“Because,” Angel continued, “it strikes me it’s rather important. If we identified the trial – if they were all involved in the same one – we’d probably
know who Short Circuit is. He’d be the one accused of a crime. Remember what he said in one of his rants? It’s all about dignity and fairness. Maybe now we know what sort of grievance
he’s got. If he was on trial, he probably thinks it wasn’t fair. That’d be his motive: revenge for his appearance in court. So, if we had a list of jurors, the prosecution
barrister and the police officer in charge of the case, we’d probably know his next victims. In Short Circuit’s eyes, they’d all be responsible for denting his dignity.”

Jordan leaped up and, at full stretch, plucked a cricket ball from the air with his right hand. He threw it to the young bowler who, taken aback by the speed of the return,
dropped the ball and blew on his stinging palms. At once, the boys began to argue among themselves. They were split on whether a player could be dismissed by a passing stranger taking a catch.
Jordan smiled and continued to wander through Waterlow Park.

He was thinking about the latest theory. If Short Circuit had been on trial, surely he wouldn’t have a motive for revenge unless he’d been found guilty of something. So, if
he’d worked at HiSpec, one of the fifty-four employees with design experience would have a criminal record, dating from early 2008. That was what Jordan was keen to check.

Even if Short Circuit had been able to cover his tracks by deleting the jury list for a single trial, surely he couldn’t have removed all trace of a criminal record. Jordan wasn’t an
expert, but he imagined that the police would keep details. The prison service would as well, if Short Circuit had been sent to jail. The conviction might have been reported in the press.
Somewhere, there had to be a file containing the crime and the sentence. And, of course, the offender’s name.

Raven would know where to look and she would have the clearance to access it. But could Jordan really trust her to do the research? He was caught in a dilemma. He wanted to check if Madison
Flint had a criminal record, but he needed Raven’s help to do so.

He sat down on a bench and, for a few seconds, closed his eyes. He took two deep breaths and then made up his mind. He would return to the house and confront her. He didn’t have much
choice. He wasn’t looking forward to it, though.

In the computer room, Jordan looked at Raven and said, “Working on Short Circuit? What’s your plan?”

She glanced at him briefly before turning back to her monitor. “I’ll let you know if I get anywhere.”

“If one of those HiSpec workers is Short Circuit,” he said, “they could have a criminal conviction.”

In a tone that suggested he’d insulted her intelligence, she replied with heavy sarcasm, “Really? I wish I’d thought of that.”

Jordan steeled himself. “There’s an obvious candidate, but she’s not on the list.”

Immediately, Raven spun on her chair and stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean. I’m talking about Madison Flint.”

Raven swallowed and the muscles in her neck tensed. She glanced around the room as if checking that no one else was within hearing. “So, you’ve done some detective work behind the
scenes.”

He nodded. “You could say that.”

“And you think I’m Short Circuit?”

“There’s got to be a reason you didn’t tell me you worked at HiSpec. I don’t know what it is, though.”

“I’m the one who put you onto HiSpec in the first place,” Raven reminded him. “I’m hardly likely to do that if I’m Short Circuit, am I? That’d be
pointing you in my direction.”

Jordan’s memory of that conversation was a little different. She’d certainly talked about HiSpec MicroSystems, but only after he and Kate had pushed her for the information.
“So, why didn’t you tell me you used to work there?”

“I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

“Sure, but...”

Raven sighed. “Look. I was young. All right? I did some crazy things. I had to resign. I didn’t exactly come clean about it. I hid it from Angel and Unit Red. That’s all. It
doesn’t make me a murderer, you know. It makes me...a bit slippery. No more than that.”

It was a straightforward matter of deciding whether she was telling the truth. Or had he heard another invention? “Why did you get kicked out of HiSpec?”

“Misusing computers,” she replied. “Everyone did a bit of personal stuff on the side. Everyone looked at things that were nothing to do with work. I was the one they made an
example of. And, before you ask, I didn’t get hauled up in court for it.” She pointed at her screen and added, “But I’d be interested if anyone else did.”