29
H
olly got out of her first day’s training for the Malibu Mirage at dusk, and she was exhausted. She had spent half her day learning the airplane’s systems and the rest in the simulator, which she had found trying. It didn’t fly like the airplane, and, although she could look out its windows at the landscape, it was more of a schematic of a landscape, and it didn’t help all that much. She decided she would rather fly the airplane itself.
She got into her car and was heading back toward the beach and home when, shortly after crossing the bridge, she saw two police cars, their lights flashing, with a silver sedan pulled over. She drove slowly past the cars and got a look at the driver, who appeared to be a sixtyish man, sitting in his car and talking with two police officers. She supposed that the Orchid force had started stopping every white male driving alone.
All she could think about now was a drink, some dinner and a hot bath.
T
eddy had just crossed the bridge when the lights began flashing behind him. He considered whether he should make a run for it but decided against it. After all, he was a solid citizen with ID to back it up, so he pulled over, lowered his window and waited. To his surprise the police car pulled past him and blocked any escape, and another car pulled up behind him. A moment later there was a flashlight in his face.
“Good evening, sir,” a young officer said. “May I see your license, registration and proof of insurance?” His hand was on his gun.
“Certainly,” Teddy said, reaching for his wallet.
“Slowly, sir, please,” the cop said.
Teddy slowly produced his wallet, removed the license and handed it over, then opened the center armrest for his registration and insurance information, while another cop watched him closely from the other side of the car.
“Mr. Smithson?” the cop read from the license. “What are you doing out tonight?”
“Driving home,” Teddy replied.
“From where?”
“From the Publix market on US-1,” Teddy said. “There isn’t a big supermarket on the island.”
“Would you step out of the car, please?”
Teddy got out.
“Place your hands on top of the car, please.”
He did so and felt himself being searched. “What’s this about?” he asked. “Why did you stop me?”
“Do you mind if I have a look inside your car, Mr. Smithson?”
“No, I don’t mind, but I’d like to know why.”
“Just a routine procedure, sir. Please have a seat on my front bumper, right behind your car.”
Teddy walked back to the police car behind him and sat down. He watched as the two officers thoroughly searched his car and as one officer pressed the button inside the car that opened his trunk. The two officers moved around the four bags of groceries in the trunk and looked under the floor where the spare tire was stored.
“All right, Mr. Smithson,” the cop said, handing him back his paperwork. “You may proceed on your way. I apologize for any inconvenience.”
“Not at all,” Teddy said, accepting his paperwork and returning to his car. The cop had not even mentioned that he had been driving at least ten miles per hour over the speed limit. He started the car, waited for the police car to move from in front of him, then pulled away from the curb and continued on his way.
This had to be about the search for the rapist/murderer, he thought. He drove home, put away the groceries, took his laptop from the safe and switched it on. He logged on to the Agency computer through a handy computer in Birmingham, Alabama, and began compiling everything he could find on James Bruno, from his court-martial record, to his West Point transcript to his military personnel file.
Finally, he ran a complete background check on the man, discovering only some speeding tickets, the most recent four months ago. Except for those, the man was clean on the civilian side. Only the court-martial transcript told the story of his abuse of women.
Bruno, he concluded, was a type A personality, aggressive and bullying, though Teddy doubted that part of his personality would display itself when he was faced with someone his own size who had an equally aggressive attitude.
He pulled Bruno’s recent Florida driver’s license application from the state’s DMV records, which gave him the man’s current home address. He was going to have to start looking into Bruno’s daily schedule and devote some thought to how to best deal with him.
L
auren Cade got home from work, poured herself a drink and called Jack Smithson.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Lauren.”
“How was your day?”
“Long and tiring. I’m just having a drink and recovering.”
“I was pulled over by the police on the way home from the grocery store this evening,” he said.
“Oh? What crime did you commit, Jack?”
“White male alone in a car,” Teddy replied. “I take it this is part of your investigation?”
“It’s the Orchid Beach department’s part of it,” she said. “Our little unit doesn’t have the resources to do that sort of thing. I take it they saw your innocent face and let you go.”
“Something like that,” Teddy said, chuckling. “You making any progress with your investigation?”
“Not really. Jim Bruno showed up at our office this morning to attend our staff meeting. Hurd had to tell him he couldn’t but not why, which is because Bruno is a suspect. He got mad and left.”
“That’s awkward, isn’t it, when a cop is a suspect?”
“Yes, it is. First time I’ve ever had a case where an investigating officer was a suspect, and I don’t like it. I wouldn’t like it, even if Bruno wasn’t the guy.”
“I’ve got a whole lot of new groceries here,” Teddy said. “You want to come over and help me eat them?”
“I’d love to, but I’m just so tired. Tomorrow night?”
“That would be lovely. Seven o’clock?”
“I may have to come straight from work; mind if I have a shower there?”
“I’ll be happy to assist you in that endeavor,” Teddy said.
“Oooh, now you’re making me wet.”
“Hold that thought until tomorrow night,” Teddy said.
“You’d better believe it,” she replied. “Night-night now.” She hung up.
The call made Teddy’s evening.
30
L
ance Cabot’s secretary buzzed him. “There’s a man from computer services named Ross Hilton who’d like to see you for a moment,” she said.
“Why?” Lance asked. He was busy, and he didn’t want to discuss his computer needs with some nerd.
“He says it’s an Operations matter.”
“Oh, all right, send him in,” Lance said impatiently.
A kid who appeared to be about seventeen walked into his office. “Hey,” he said.
“You’re from computer services?” Lance asked.
“I’m twenty-five, and everybody in my department looks like me,” the kid said.
“All right, ah . . .”
“Ross.”
“Ross. Have a seat.”
Ross had a seat. “I’ve come across some unusual activity on the mainframe,” he said.
“What sort of activity?” Lance asked. He hoped he was going to understand this the first time.
“It looks like someone is logging on to our mainframe from a remote computer and using it.”
“From where?” Lance asked.
“Once from the Bahamas, once from Birmingham, Alabama. I think the Birmingham computer was being used as a conduit from yet another location.”
“And where is that location?”
“I haven’t been able to figure that out yet, but the very idea of somebody using our mainframe is pretty scary, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, I would say.”
“I mean, anybody logging on from outside the building would have to go through at least three levels of security, with a different eighteen-digit password at each level.”
“Then that person must be an employee, probably an operating agent.”
“Inside the United States? I was told when I was recruited that the Agency is barred from conducting operations inside the U.S.”
“That’s perfectly true, Ross, but there are reasons other than conducting operations that might cause an agent inside the country to employ the mainframe. Research, for instance. If you can figure out where the user is located, then I’ll know better if it’s one of our people.”
“So what do you want me to do about this?” Ross asked.
“You’ve already done the correct thing by bringing this to my attention.”
“You want me to bring it to your attention if this happens again?”
“Yes, please do that. On second thought, bring it to the attention of one of my deputies, Holly Barker. She’s on vacation now, but you can e-mail her through the system. She has an authorized terminal in her present location.”
“Okay, I’ll do that,” Ross said. “Thanks very much.” He got up to go.
“Thank you, Ross. Oh, to what use was this person putting the mainframe?”
“Sorry, I forgot to mention that. It was sort of a background check on a retired army colonel named James Bruno. The user dredged up the record of a court-martial and also went into the Florida Department of Motor Vehicles computer and extracted the guy’s driver’s license application.”
Something sounded familiar to Lance about all this. “Who was court-martialed?”
“This Colonel Bruno.”
“And what were the charges?”
“Rape and attempted rape.”
“Ahhh,” Lance said. “I think I know what this is about, Ross. I’ll deal with this; don’t bother any further with it.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Cabot. See ya.” He gave a little wave and left the office.
Lance turned to his computer and sent an e-mail.
H
olly returned from her second day’s training, exhausted again. She had finally gotten a grip on the simulator and was flying it well, but she was still anxious to get into the real airplane. She went into the kitchen to get a beer and a small, green flashing light caught her eye. It was just outside the door of her Agency-provided office, and she hadn’t noticed it before.
She tapped her entry code into the keypad and opened the door. A message was flashing on the monitor of the Agency computer: E-MAIL WAITING.
She logged on and went to her in-box. “Call me. Lance,” the message read. She looked at her watch. He might still be in the office, so she dialed his direct number.
“Lance Cabot,” he said.
“It’s Holly. You rang, master?”
“Yes. I had one of those teenaged geeks up here from computer services this afternoon to tell me about someone from outside the Agency accessing the mainframe.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that someone has been using the mainframe to investigate the background of a retired army colonel named Bruno. That rang a bell.”
“I’m surprised you remember,” she said.
“I remember everything, Holly; never forget that.”
“I’ll try not to. What’s the problem?”
“One of the things I remember was a conversation with you about your personal use of the mainframe.”
“Yes, I remember that, too. When did this incident occur?”
“Today, apparently.”
“I haven’t been on the mainframe today.”
“You aren’t still digging things up about Bruno?”
“I think I already have everything I need to know about his past,” she said. “Right now, he’s a suspect in a series of rapes and murders in this town.”
“Our geek says that someone accessed the mainframe from the Bahamas and then again from Birmingham, Alabama.”
“I’ve never been to Birmingham, Alabama,” she said.
“Actually, he says the user routed through a computer in Birmingham.”
“Was he able to figure out where the original computer is? I mean, the one the user is actually using?”
“No, not yet. Who, besides you, would be interested in the background of Colonel James Bruno?”
“I haven’t the foggiest. I mean, the local and state cops have an interest in him, but I’ve already given them the material on Bruno that I found, and anyway, they wouldn’t have the codes necessary to access the mainframe.”
“The user also accessed the Florida DMV computer and got Bruno’s driver’s license application.”
“Well, this sounds like the cops, but if a Florida police agency can access the CIA mainframe, then I’d say we have a major computer security problem.”
“It can’t be the cops down there,” Lance said. “That’s just too preposterous. It’s got to be one of our people doing this.”
“I think I would agree with that. Certainly, it’s a much less troubling idea for an Agency employee to be using the mainframe for his or her own purposes.”
“Less troubling but annoying,” Lance said. “If you think of anyone else in the Agency who would have an interest in Colonel Bruno, call me.”
“Will do.”
“Good night.” Lance hung up.
Holly hung up, too, baffled.
31
T
eddy Fay lay back and gazed into the face of Lauren Cade, which was contorted with passion. She moved rhythmically up and down on top of him, making little noises, and he moved with her. Then, they both climaxed together and ended up with her in his arms but still locked together.
“That was just wonderful,” she said.
“It certainly was,” he agreed.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
“It seems to me that you were doing the greater part of it.”
“I suppose I was.”
“And doing it extremely well, too.”
She fell sideways and lay tight against him, her head on his shoulder and her leg over his, spilling his seed onto him. “Messy, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I love it. I love your sweat, too.”
“That’s entirely involuntary; it doesn’t require any talent.”
“No, it’s just part of you.” She got up and went into the bathroom. He heard water running, and a moment later she came back with a hot face cloth and wiped down his body.
“The service is very good around here,” Teddy said.
“I’m going to keep it that way,” she replied. “What can I get you?”
“A cold beer, please.”
“Oh, me, too.” She trotted off toward the kitchen.
“There are cold glasses in the freezer,” he called after her.
She returned with two perfectly poured glasses, and he sat up and rearranged the pillows for both of them.
“It’s fun watching you walk around naked,” Teddy said.
“Then I’ll do that a lot.”
They touched glasses and drank the cold lager.
Teddy experienced a rush of feeling for her. He wanted her to never leave his house again, but he could not express this desire. “What are your career plans?” he asked.
“I’ve got four years on the job,” she said, “so I guess I’ll put in at least twenty, for the pension—barring a better offer, of course.”
“What would you consider a better offer?”
“A job with a federal agency, I guess—FBI, DEA, like that.”
“Then you’d have to move,” he pointed out.
“Probably. I suppose they employ agents in Florida, though. I’d like to stay here. Mind you, my new job is something meaningful; it’s better than chasing down speeders on I-95.”
“I suppose it is. You’re a bright woman; you need something that requires intelligence.”
“I do.”
Teddy was trying to think about the future, but it was hard. What was he going to do? Ask her to marry him and run with him when the Agency stumbled across him somewhere? Could he confess to her the murders he’d done, necessary for the welfare of the country though they may have been. Could he ask her to share the risks in his life, to change her identity, to keep moving? He actually enjoyed the chase, but it seemed unlikely that she would. He tried to bring his mind back to the present.
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you going to settle down in Vero Beach?”
“Seems like a nice town,” he said. “So far. Certainly the company is good.”
“How’d you pick Vero anyway?”
“I read something about it somewhere. It’s a nice size—not too big, not too small—and I don’t mind a hot summer.”
“I do,” she said, “but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
That was something he could offer her, he thought: a better climate somewhere else. “Where would you like to live, if you could live anywhere?”
“Paris,” she said unhesitatingly.
“That’s a nice thought,” Teddy said. “Do you have the language?”
“Two courses in high school. I can order dinner.”
“That’s about the extent of my French, too,” he admitted.
“I think if I lived in Paris the language would come to me quickly enough.”
Teddy changed the subject. “When you nail this Bruno character, what will your next job be?”
“The next big crime, I guess.”
“Wherever it is?”
“Wherever in Florida.”
So she might get yanked away from him. He didn’t like that.
“Our charter from the government is to investigate ‘major’ crimes, but Hurd Wallace has a lot of discretion over what cases he works. Of course, the governor could call at any time and send him off to Miami or Jacksonville or someplace to solve some murder that had statewide or national implications.”
“Are you having Bruno followed?”
“No, not yet, anyway. But I’ve told Jimmy Weathers—you met him—that Bruno is a suspect, so I expect he’ll be paying a lot of attention to him until we break the case.”
“Does he spend most of his time in the office?”
“Jimmy says he works odd hours. Sometimes he’s at the station in the middle of the night. It’s like he’s always checking up on the people who work for him.”
“I’m no cop,” Teddy said, “but I should think that if he’s your suspect, you’d follow him night and day, until he made an incriminating move.”
“To do that, Hurd would have to request more manpower from the state police, and then it starts to get political. If he meets with resistance, he has to get the governor involved. I think Hurd is reluctant to do that, or we’d already be following Bruno.”
“He’ll make a mistake eventually,” Teddy said.
“Let’s hope so,” Lauren replied.
Teddy was thinking he wouldn’t wait for Bruno to make a mistake.