Split Second (7 page)

“Great,” said Jenna, rolling her
eyes. “This just keeps on getting better and better. Good thing we don’t have
time for me to get a boob job,” she added wryly

Blake laughed. “There is one last
thing I took care of while I was out running . . . errands,” he said, serious
once again. “I was able to find a business supply store that carries the same
brand of flash drive Nathan used. I bought three of them. I saved large files
on each, so they don’t appear empty, and then password protected them the best
I could.”

“Outstanding,” said Jenna admiringly,
her mood improving immediately. This guy seemed to think of everything. Maybe
if she would have slept longer he’d have the entire case wrapped up by now.

Blake rooted in a desk drawer
for several seconds and produced a pen. He removed the cap to reveal a tiny,
chiseled blue tip. “This is standard issue equipment in my line of work,” he
explained. “It contains ink that will only show up under UV light. Ink that’s
waterproof and very permanent. Use it to mark Nathan’s thumb drive so we’ll be
able to distinguish it from the others,” he finished, handing her the pen.

Jenna removed the memory stick
from her pocket and carefully drew an X on one end. Blake produced a tiny UV
flashlight from another drawer, a blue steel cylinder not much bigger than a
roll of quarters, and turned it on the flash drive. Sure enough, the invisible
X immediately made its presence known.

“So I hide the real thumb drive
and put one of your decoys in my pocket instead, right?”

“Exactly. You’ll most likely
never need a decoy,” said Blake, “but you never know.”

“Why did you buy three of them?”

“One for you. One for me to
keep. And one that I’ll hide in this apartment.”

Jenna thought about this a
moment. “In case they somehow manage to connect you to me and search the place,
right?”

“Yes. If a rabid dog is looking
for a bone, it’s probably safer to give him one. It’s highly unlikely something
like this will come to pass. But why not?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said
Jenna. She held Nathan’s flash drive out in front of her face. “So where should
I hide the real thing?”

“I don’t know. But you need to decide
this for yourself. It doesn’t have to be this second, but when you figure it
out, I’ll make sure to leave you alone for however long it takes.”

Jenna shook her head. “No. I
want you in the loop. If something happens to me, I don’t want to risk Nathan’s
discovery being lost to the world.”

Blake nodded. “I think that’s
wise. But are you really willing to trust me with something this important?”

“The fact that you even asked me
tells me that I can,” she said.

She knew there was a small risk
she had misread Aaron Blake, but she had such a positive feeling about him she
decided it was very small. Given recent history, the chances were considerably
greater that she would be killed, and she was not going to let Nathan’s
discovery die with her.

“So pretend this is
your
flash drive,” continued Jenna.
“Where would you hide it?”

“I wouldn’t,” he said simply. “Not
yet. I’d recommend finding out what’s on it first.”

“And you know how to do that?”

“I don’t. But I have a friend
who does. More than a friend. A guy named Greg Soyer. We served together in the
military three years ago. I’m not sure you can truly understand how much going
through hell with another man cements a permanent bond. A friendship beyond
friendship. He saved my ass during an anti-terror operation, and I saved his
twice. It goes without saying that I still trust him with my life.”

“Okay,” said Jenna. “I’m sold. If
you trust him, I trust him. And you’re sure he can access Nathan’s discovery?”

“Positive. He left the military
years ago. But he’s as skilled as anyone I’ve ever known with a computer. And
speaks fluent Arabic.”

“That must have come in handy.”

“Very. But if you met him and
didn’t know, you’d never guess his military background in a million years.
Seems like the sweetest, softest guy you’ll ever meet. A blond-haired,
blue-eyed Jewish kid who grew up on the not-so-mean streets of Billings,
Montana. Double majored in computer science and Middle Eastern studies at
Princeton.”

“Great,” said Jenna. “I’ve been
playing defense. But maybe with your friend’s help, I can begin going on
offense. So how do we get him involved?”

“He lives in Orange County, so he’s
more or less on the way to Palomar Mountain.”

“When do you want to head out?”

“Immediately. There is no time
to waste. I don’t think Dan Walsh is in immediate danger, like I said, but we
need to know what he knows sooner rather than later. So after we visit Greg and
recon last night’s ambush site, connecting with Walsh should be our next
priority. During your nap I learned he teaches a night class on Mondays, and I
worked out a plan to squirrel him away from any surveillance. I won’t need to
be at UCLA until about seven this evening. If we leave right now, we should
have a cushion of a few hours, but you never know what might come up.”

Jenna rose. “I’m ready whenever
you are.”

She picked up the Macy’s bag,
making another face as though the bag had been used to clean up after a large pet
dog. “I’ll make myself, um . . . pretty,” she said, rolling her eyes once
again, “while we’re on the road.”

“Great,” said Blake, making his
way the short distance to his kitchen. He removed a box of granola bars from a
pantry. “And once you’ve changed into your Halloween costume,” he added with a
broad grin, waving the box in his hand, “lunch is on me.”

11

“We’ll be at Greg’s house in
just a few minutes,” announced Blake as they waited for a stoplight to turn
green.

Jenna looked around. For several
miles now they had passed an eclectic mixture of auto repair shops, special
interest boutiques, small restaurants, and numerous furniture stores, and the
dense throng of commercial outlets didn’t seem to be thinning.

She raised her eyebrows. “Does
your friend live in a futon store? Because this seems like the furniture
district, not a residential one.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t
you?” replied Blake. “See that strip mall ahead?” he said, pointing.

Jenna craned her neck and
nodded.

“You can’t see it from here, but
there’s a canyon running behind it, which boxes in this section of real estate.
There are a few fairly isolated houses up that hill,” he said, nodding up ahead
and to their left, “that are situated above the canyon. They’re old and on the
small side. Fifteen to eighteen hundred square feet, ranch style.”

“Meaning just a single story,
right?”

“Right. This isn’t a residential
district, as you’ve pointed out, but these few homes were grandfathered in. Greg
grew up in Montana. He loves Southern California but hates the congestion. In
Montana there’s nothing but wide open spaces, ranches, and homes with huge
acreage around them. In Orange County, on the other hand, you can spend two
million on a track home with a yard the size of a postage stamp, and so close
to your neighbors on all sides that when one of them scratches their ass you
think they’re in the room with you.”

Jenna made a face. “Wow, that’s
a thought picture I really didn’t need to have.”

“Sorry,” he said in amusement. “So
Greg found one of the few homes around here he could afford that was somewhat
isolated, and had a view—at least of a canyon. The house is old and not open
and expansive like modern homes, and doesn’t let in as much light. But the
interior is modern, and the kitchen is huge. He also built an office for
himself off the back of house, larger than the master bedroom, and he put in a
large sliding glass door so he gets lots of sunlight and can go outside and
ponder nature when he wants a break.”

While they conversed, Blake left
the main road and headed up the hill he had pointed out, taking a narrow,
winding stretch of pavement that led to his friend’s home. Minutes later they
arrived and exited the car.

As Blake had suggested, Soyer’s
home was small, dark, and antiquated. And while isolation could be an
attractive feature, in Jenna’s opinion the property was a little on the creepy
side, as though it were the residence of a grizzled old hermit, or an
Appalachian family with a rusted, broken-down pickup truck on the lawn. This,
despite the fact that all she could see, other than the house, was Soyer’s
white Mercedes in the driveway and a sizable, well-maintained expanse of dark
green grass.

They rang the bell and the door
was thrown open immediately.

“Aaron!” said Greg Soyer
cheerfully as he shook hands with his friend, a handshake that ended in a
hearty bear hug.

“What’s it been, three weeks?”
said Blake as Soyer ushered his two guests inside.

Once again, Blake’s description had
been spot on. The inside was brighter than seemed possible, and the furniture
and limestone flooring was light colored as well, to counteract the dark,
depressing exterior.

“All I know,” said Soyer, “is
that it’s been
too
long.”

The computer expert turned
toward Jenna. “Please tell me that you’re dating this guy.”

She shook her head, trying not
to let the stress and tragedy she had been feeling show. “Sorry, but I’m afraid
not.”

Blake looked slightly
embarrassed. “Greg here is dying for me to get into a relationship so we can
double date,” he explained. A smile spread slowly across his face. He stared at
his friend and arched a eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me that Alisa had moved in.”

“Yeah? What gave you that idea?”

“Are you kidding?” said Blake,
gesturing toward the narrow entrance into the family room. “You don’t have to
be a private detective to figure this one out. Either your couch just gave
birth to a litter of throw pillows, or you have a woman living here.”

 
“You caught me,” admitted Soyer with a broad
grin. He turned to Jenna. “But I’ve been rude enough. ” He extended his hand. “Greg
Soyer,” he said, introducing himself.

Jenna shook the offered hand and
opened her mouth to reply, but Blake beat her to the punch. “She’s a client,”
he explained. “So for purposes of anonymity, let’s just say she’s Jane Smith.”

Soyer rolled his eyes. “Nice to
meet you, Jane,” he said.

“You too,” she replied pleasantly,
unable to keep herself from touching one of the turquoise hoop earrings that seemed
intent on pulling her earlobes to the ground, something the heavy blonde wig
was also trying to do to her head. All in all, Blake’s purchases couldn’t have
disguised her any better. Even she didn’t recognize the overdone blonde she saw
in the mirror, a person she hoped to never have to see again.

“Can I get you two anything to
drink?” said their host.

“Thanks, Greg,” said Blake. “I’d
love a bottle of water. But I’m afraid we can only stay a few minutes. I assume
Alisa is at work?”

Soyer nodded.

“Didn’t mean to barge in on you
like this, but I had reasons for not calling ahead.”

“Always great to see you, no
matter what the circumstances,” said Soyer as he led them from the family room
through a small open door into the kitchen. On the opposite side of the kitchen
another small door was open, revealing a dining room and an elegant glass and
marble table. Although modern kitchens weren’t as closed off as this one, it
was unusually large, and the appliances and cabinetry were modern and
state-of-the-art. “But how did you know I’d be home?”

“Didn’t,” replied Blake. “But I
knew you left the military so you could be a consultant. So you could sit around
in your pajamas all day playing with your computer. Where else would you be?”

“Hah! That’s where you’re wrong,
Aaron. Sometimes I trade my pajamas for swim trunks and do my work by the
pool.”

Blake laughed. “Yeah, if you
wanted to do that, you’d be living in
my
complex, not your hillbilly shack.”

“You do know this cost me almost
eight hundred thousand dollars, right?”

“Just means they have a higher
caliber of hobo in Southern California.”

Soyer laughed. “So what can I do
for you, Aaron?” he said warmly, handing his friend a bottle of water and Jenna
a diet Peach Snapple, which had been her selection.

“Jane here has a flash drive
that is password protected,” said Blake. “We need someone to retrieve the file
the password is protecting. But we can’t take any risk the file will be
compromised under any circumstances.”

“Since she’s Jane Smith, I
assume you’d rather I didn’t read what’s on it, correct?”

“You know I trust you with my
life,” said Blake. “But I think it would be better all around if you didn’t.”

Blake’s demeanor became deadly
serious. “Before you agree to help, though, I have to tell you that there are
men with spec ops level training who will kill without a second thought to get
what’s on that stick. If I knew anything more that might be helpful, like who
these men might be, or what is on that drive, I would tell you. But where it
counts, you know what I know.”

Soyer considered. “Which is why
you didn’t call or text. So there is no recent electronic link between us.”

Blake nodded.

“How big do you think this will
end up being?”

“Given everything I know, which
is very limited, my gut tells me huge. Enormous. The drive would be a hot
potato if it contained financial records for the mob, for example, but this
information could only take down a few mobsters. I think this has far larger
ramifications than that. I think it’s important on the level of a massive government
cover-up, affecting thousands. Maybe more. I don’t think that’s what it is, but
I’m trying to give you a sense of scale.”

“Then how can I say no?” said Soyer.

“Easily. This isn’t your
problem. You’ve served your country and fellow man. If you’d rather not help
us, it won’t change my high opinion of you in the slightest.”

“Understood. But I’m in. I’ll be
sure to watch my back, just in case. So tell me exactly what you want me to
do.”

“Ideally, if you could break in,
find the file, and then give it this password,” said Blake, handing Soyer a
piece of paper containing a password he and Jenna had both memorized, “I’d be
grateful.”

Jenna produced the marked memory
stick and gave it to Soyer. “Are you sure you can do this?” she asked. “If
three incorrect passwords are entered, it will wipe the data, so there is no
tolerance for guesses.”

“Let me take a look,” said Soyer.

He led them to his spacious
office, an add-on at the back of his house, and to his advanced desktop
computer. He carefully inserted the flash drive into a port and then
manipulated a mouse, keyboard, and touch screen at a pace too quick for the eye
to follow. Finally, he paused on a screen full of what looked like indecipherable
gibberish.

He studied the words and symbols
for almost a minute and then turned to face Jenna. “I can beat this,” he said
with conviction. “I’m sure of it. This isn’t all that secure in the scheme of
things. This is the equivalent of installing a dead-bolt lock on your door. It’ll
keep out your average criminal, but not a pro.”

“Great,” replied Jenna. “Nath—um,
the person who protected this information—didn’t expect for it to be found. I
was even surprised he bothered with a password. I know the protection on his
hard drive was much more rigorous.”

“Well, lucky for us, this isn’t.
I could do this in a matter of minutes. But if you want zero chance of hitting
a self-destruct sequence, I’ll have to take the long way around. First, I’ll
have to hack in and build a wall around the file, one that will withstand any
command to erase the data. That way, I can muck around at the password end of
things without fear of it being wiped. And if there are hidden traps or if I
make a mistake, it’ll be safe as well.”

“Thanks, Greg,” said Blake. He
took a deep breath. “I owe you one.”

“At
least
one,” said Soyer with a twinkle in his eye.

Jenna was ignoring the banter
between them, staring off into space in a world of her own. Her conscience was
troubling her. She had been selfish. Until Blake had brought it up, she hadn’t really
thought about how much they were endangering this man. The memory stick could
well turn out to be Pandora’s box. Wherever it went, death and destruction
might follow. Relentlessly. Inevitably.

She had to take care to limit
the number of innocent people exposed to this danger. She had already spread
the plague by including Blake. The problem was that she and Blake alone didn’t
have the skills to get to the data. So if they wanted to know what was on the
drive, they would have to expose someone else.

At least Soyer was highly
trained, and Blake had been a step ahead of her, making certain to minimize any
trail between them and his friend.

Was there anything that could be
done to help ensure Soyer’s safety? The safety of all three parties now
involved?

The answer came to her almost
immediately. If her brain had been hitting on all cylinders, she would have
thought of it before. The leverage she had was obvious, and should be highly
effective against all involved players. Leverage that might be the only thing
that would keep them alive.

She turned her attention back to
the two men just in time to hear Blake apologize for their need to rush off. He
began walking toward the door, gesturing for her to follow.

“Wait,” she said, stopping in
her tracks and facing both men. “One last thing. The men who are after the file
on this drive are willing to do anything to get it. Which puts us all at risk.
But I’m pretty sure they’d also do anything to make sure no one
else
gets it.”

Both men exchanged glances. “Go
on,” said Blake.

“I think the threat of wide disclosure
can be a powerful deterrent. Might be enough to keep us alive if we’re discovered.”

Blake looked impressed. “You
might be right,” he said. “Greg, after you’ve burrowed in and uncovered the
file, I assume you can rig up a dead-man’s switch, right? So if any of us
aren’t alive to enter a code each week, whatever is on the drive gets sent all
over the world. Maybe like an out-of-control pop-up ad, sent primarily to the
press and university physics departments.”

“No problem.”

Jenna chewed on her lower lip, a
thoughtful expression on her face. “No. Whoever is after this information might
have a good reason for not wanting it to get out. So we can’t do this, not
until we know more about what’s going on.”

She turned to the baby-faced
computer expert. “Why don’t you set it up, but without the dead-man’s switch.
So put the file in the cloud, with protection as unbreakable as you can make
it, and have it set for wide distribution. But only if we
actively
make that happen.”

“You got it,” said Soyer.

“But if we get into trouble,”
said Jenna, “we can still
say
we have
a dead-man’s switch. Doesn’t cost us anything to bluff.”

“I don’t know who you really
are, Jane,” said Soyer in admiration, “but I like the way you think.”