Edge of Tomorrow (7 page)

“Christ, Hatcher! What do you want of me?”
Gramble pleaded.

“It’s really very simple. I intend to start a
new company that will, in the long run, actually provide a service
to the CIA. You don’t need to know any details at the moment. To
start that company, I need money. You’ll transfer two million
dollars from the Black Fund to my numbered account in the name of
Joseph Jerome. It’s an account we have used before.”

“Two million! Impossible!” blurted
Gramble.

“Suit yourself,” Hatcher shrugged. He snubbed
out his cigarette in the saucer and took a sip of his drink. Then
he picked up the gun in his lap and pointed it at Gramble.

“This will ruin your family’s vacation. I’ll
let them grieve for a while, then they’ll join you.”

“Wait! You can’t do this!” screamed
Gramble.

“Of course I can.”

“All right! I’ll work out a way to do it!”
moaned the trembling Gramble.

“That’s better. Now for the rest of the plan.
Is Van Lincoln, my real persona, still stashed in the Switzerland
office—on paper?” asked Hatcher.

“Yes. Your paychecks go to your account there
every month, just like we agreed four years ago when you went
NOC.”

“Good. You are going to recall Lincoln to
Langley; then, he will retire with honors. He will start a new
company, and after about six months, he will approach the CIA
asking for a contract. You will see that he gets it.
Understood?”

“Yes. It will be difficult, but …”

“No ‘buts.’ You know the alternative.”

“Right.”

“Now, to get you back in the good graces of
the DDO and the DCI. I need you to have maximum power to do the
things that I need done. You must be in deep shit right now,”
laughed Hatcher. “You are to tell them that you have, on good
authority, information that the killings in Germany are the result
of a KGB-Stasi ego-turf war. That’s why I killed the KGB agent. You
know what egos those bastards have. They are always arguing over
who is in charge. Both the DCI and the DDO should buy the story,
mainly because they will want to. To make sure, we’ll blow some
smoke, give them something to distract them. We’ll give you a big
coup in West Berlin.”

Hatcher paused and lit another cigarette,
blowing smoke in Gramble’s direction.

“In the building across the street from the
U.S. Embassy, third floor, there is a whole nest of Stasi
surveillance gear and the accompanying agents. A little raid ought
to pick up about twenty agents, and all of their equipment and
files. You can make a big deal out of it, even though we know they
are small fish.”

Gramble’s face lit up a bit as he began to
see his situation brightening.

Hatcher continued, “Before I left Germany, I
learned that the Stasi have imprisoned Kat’s mother and sister. Use
as many of those spies that you capture as you need, and trade them
for the mother and sister. Bring them here and make sure that they
have a good, comfortable life. I’ll be watching.”

“What …”

“Make it happen!” growled Hatcher.

Hatcher stood up and holstered his gun in the
small of his back. He crushed his cigarette out and drained his
drink.

“Thanks for the drink. I’ll be leaving now.
Van Lincoln will be coming in from Switzerland on Monday. In the
meantime, go spend the weekend with your family. It will be your
last chance to spend time with them if you fuck up any of
this.”

Langley, Virginia

Monday, October 7, 1985

5:00 PM

Van “Hatch” Lincoln sat in his tall-back
swivel chair in his corner office in the Intelligence
International, Incorporated building. He was the CEO, President,
and Chairman of the Board of the company that he had founded nearly
a year ago. He swiveled his chair and looked out his big window.
There was not much of a view, but someday there would be, he
promised himself. He felt good. He decided to have a drink to
celebrate his good fortune. He arose and fixed himself a bourbon
and water with lots of ice, and then sat back down. He lifted his
glass to the window and a high-flying airliner on its way to
somewhere.

“To you, Kat,” he said with feeling. “I’m
keeping my promise to you. I’m building a new life, thanks to
you!”

He had just signed another contract, this
time with the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA). They had seen how
good the reports and services the CIA was receiving were, and
wanted in on the action. He had counted on interagency jealousy to
expand his business. If one agency had something, all of the others
wanted it, too, with their own cover sheets or bindings on it. It
should not be long before the rest of the intelligence community
came knocking on his door. He let his mind wander back over the
last hectic months he had endured to get here.

• • •

Van Lincoln returned from Switzerland as
promised. Gramble transferred two million dollars into the
specified account. Lincoln retired from the CIA and embarked on
building a new life, one without his silenced pistol and sniper
rifle. He never put a contract out on Gramble or his family, but he
had never had any intention of doing so. He had pulled a big bluff
and he had won. He did watch his back closely, because he did not
trust Gramble, but he was sure Gramble’s fear would keep him in
line.

Lincoln used some of the two million dollars
to lease office space, office furniture, and the normal office
equipment. His space was just outside Langley. He also leased some
computers, printers, and other technical equipment and began
writing his System Specification. He hired a lawyer and
incorporated the company he fondly called Triple Eye. When the
first draft of his specification was complete, he began hiring some
people. He did not need many at first. A secretary who doubled as
Girl Friday, a technical writer, and four computer specialists
knowledgeable in both software and hardware. Finding the right
people took a month, and he had to provide very good salaries to
entice top people to join a start-up company. The team began adding
flesh to the System Specification, and began writing Functional
Specifications and software. Lincoln learned quickly that guru
programmers had the egos of a KGB Colonel, and he had to adjust his
management style to keep them focused on the product he needed in a
very short time span.

He and the technical writer began work on the
proposal that he intended to present to the CIA at the appropriate
time.

Hatch programmed the operating system
himself. He had become a good programmer and system designer while
in college, where his major was Engineering and his minor was
Computer Sciences. He chose this part of the system for himself for
several reasons. The obvious reason was that the people he had
hired, with one exception, were specialists in relational
databases, search algorithms, and report generators. The private
reason was that he wanted to create a way to access the databases
without leaving a “foot print;” that is, a record that the access
to the database had been made. This was commonly called a “back
door” entry. Only his one System Programmer knew about this, and
the rationalization was that this was required for debugging and
maintenance. He had no devious future plans for this feature, but
he had one of his “feelings” that it might prove useful at some
later date.

As the programs were developed and tested,
Hatch gave lectures on the types of intelligence data, their
relationships, and how the data should be presented to the various
types of analysts. It soon became obvious that he needed a couple
more programmers to handle the workload that they had defined. He
also needed a communications expert. His current staff, now very
happy and devoted to the project, recommended people they knew, so
he added to his staff. The system began to take shape. They tried
to pay special attention to areas that they knew would be expanded
or modified later. Team morale was high. Lincoln was enjoying his
knew career.

Lincoln felt uncomfortable being called “Van”
by his staff—“Mr. Lincoln” was out of the question—so he had them
call him “Hatch,” the nickname he had used most of his life. He
called them by their first names … or nicknames if they had
one.

He and his technical writer, Jane Forbeson,
who had been concentrating on documenting the programs, got back to
finishing off the proposal. Hatch wrote a first draft of the
section on how the new reporting system would help CIA analysts.
She polished it up for him, learning about intelligence analysis in
the process. And so it went, chapter by chapter, with technical
areas being provided by the programmers, and polished by Jane.

By the middle of February, 1985, Hatch felt
that the system was ready for a test run with real data. He called
Gramble and told him it was time to get him a hearing with the
appropriate people in the CIA, and that he was to use his clout to
make sure a contract was given to Triple Eye. No other result would
be acceptable. Gramble said that he understood.

On March 4, 1985, Hatch had his meeting. The
DDI was there, as well as Gramble and several department heads. He
had sent his proposal to them a week before, so they had all read
it. Hatch gave his pitch and sat down, awaiting a response. The
meeting attendees discussed things among themselves for a while,
and Hatch was just about to give Gramble the high sign to put on
the pressure, when the DDI, a long-time analyst himself, said that
he liked it, and a high-ranking Threat Assessment Analyst said it
was like manna from heaven. Gramble only had to support their
position, which sealed the deal.

Triple Eye got a three month contract to test
and demonstrate the system using real intelligence data, furnishing
real reports for evaluation. Security of the data and the reports
had been the biggest stumbling block to inking the contract. This
had been resolved for the test phase when Hatch proposed that the
data be loaded by CIA employees, and only CIA agents would see the
printed reports. Also, they could install their own encryption
system. Any problems with reports could be discussed with Hatch,
who had retained his “spook” security clearance as part of his
retirement agreement.

Then Hatch presented an addendum to his
proposal, which had been prepared in advance, and stated that
Triple Eye would install secure communications equipment on their
end—at Triple Eye’s expense—if the CIA would do the same on their
end. This way, no paper would be generated except at the CIA
offices. This proposed system was to be put in place at the end of
the trial period if the CIA wished to give Triple Eye a contract
extension. This was met with enthusiasm by all CIA attendees. Hatch
also proposed that the CIA begin the processing necessary to get
the appropriate security clearances for all Triple Eye employees.
This was accepted.

The tests went well and Triple Eye received a
one year contract. The new communications equipment was installed,
and during the ensuing weeks, the volume of the transactions—and
hence, income—was increased dramatically. Contract modifications
were approved. Then the DIA contract. Triple Eye was on its way.
The money was rolling in, but Hatch wanted more.

Maui, Hawaii

Sunday, January 14, 2001

9:00 A.M.

Hatch climbed out of bed and looked
back at the naked lady in his bed. The woman was asleep on her
back, legs slightly apart, and her small breasts pointed at the
ceiling. Her skin was a smooth golden tan, her body slim and lithe.
She was Lili Romanov, a Eurasian woman—part Russian, part
Malaysian—whom Hatch met occasionally for a long weekend of fun and
sex. He liked her—she
was
a
sex tigress—but as with all of his relationships, he kept things
from getting serious. Ever since Kat’s death, he had avoided
long-term relationships with any woman.

The years since 1985 had been good to Hatch
in all other aspects of his life. He was now a very rich man. Some
said the world’s richest. It was hard to assess because all of his
companies except one were privately held. He had paid back the
money he had extorted from James Gramble years ago, not because he
gave a shit about Gramble, but because he did not want any loose
ends floating around the dark corridors of the CIA. They were his
bread and butter.

He pulled on a pair of swim trunks and went
to the small kitchenette and poured himself a cup of coffee. The
coffee maker had come on automatically at 8:00 A.M. He grabbed his
cigarettes and lighter and went out to the lanai of their
thatched-roof beach cabana on Kaanapali Beach on Maui. He sat in a
rattan chair and put his coffee cup on the small, round table next
to the chair. He stared out at the ocean as he lit his first
cigarette of the day.

Got to quit
this
, he thought as he exhaled. He was always
quitting.

• • •

He took a sip of his coffee and the slow,
rolling waves seemed to hypnotize him. His mind drifted back. There
had been several distinct events that had steered him down the
winding path and led him to where he was today.

The first significant event was when he had
hired Cornelius “Soup” Campbell to help him build the prototype
Triple Eye system back in 1984. It turned out that Soup was not
only a certified genius and a topnotch system architect and
designer/programmer, but he also had great vision and knew some
very intelligent people.

When Hatch told him he needed a
communications system so Triple Eye could expand its data gathering
function, but that the initial cost seemed prohibitive, Soup
Campbell told Hatch about a system that was already in place:
ARPANET.

Soup gave him a brief history of the system
that was someday to become the Internet. It all began in 1962 when
the think-tank called The RAND Corporation began research into a
robust, distributed communication system for use by military
command and control people. By 1971 there were 23 hosts (or
servers) linking government research centers and universities
around the country.