Wired (24 page)

PART SIX

Moriarty

40

They
parked at the outskirts of Kira’s trailer park and made their way silently to her
class A motor home. It was nearing three in the morning, and the other
residents of the park were sound asleep and didn’t stir at their arrival. Kira
had taken care to select a park at which there was ample spacing between RVs.

Kira’s
RV was forty feet long and eight wide. The drapes were already closed and she
kept the lighting low. Despite the limited space, Kira had decorated the
dwelling tastefully with several well-placed knickknacks and plants that gave
it a homey and unmistakably feminine feel. The RV was packed with cherry
cabinetry and had a self-contained bathroom, kitchen, dining area, living room,
and bedroom. Desh had never been inside an RV of any kind and marveled at how
much could be fit inside, and how cleverly. The kitchen had an oven, a
three-burner stove, and a microwave, along with a large stainless steel
refrigerator-freezer. There were two tan leather couches along either wall,
facing each other, with about four feet of space between them. A high-end
computer rested underneath the small kitchen table with a full-sized keyboard
and three monitors on its surface. Desh couldn’t imagine wanting or needing more
than a single monitor, but after the last few days he was beginning to think
this was a minority opinion.

Kira
gestured for Connelly to take one of the two couches and for Griffin and
Metzger to take the other. The driver and passenger seats were cushioned,
soft-leather captain’s chairs, capable of being swiveled around one hundred and
eighty degrees to become additional living room furniture; a configuration Kira
used whenever the vehicle was parked. She sat in one and motioned for Desh to
take the other. The only hint that the group was gathered inside a mammoth
vehicle rather than a tiny house was the presence of a large steering wheel
protruding into the living room.

“We
need to brief you and we need to do it quickly,” began Desh as soon as he was seated.
“There’s a lot to tell, so let’s get right to it.”

For
over an hour, Desh and Kira reviewed everything they knew: intelligence
enhancement, Kira's longevity therapy, her self-imposed memory blockade, the murder
of her brother, the Ebola frame, and finally, their recent interaction with the
ruthless man they had called Moriarty. They did their best to impart the
information succinctly, but understood the importance of being thorough. The
team had to know the entire truth; no matter how much valuable time was
consumed in the process. Desh observed the major carefully throughout the
briefing, finding him to be intelligent, inquisitive, and a positive addition
to the team.

It
was Desh's passionate description of the awesome power of an enhanced intellect
that persuaded the three men to believe the rest, as utterly fantastic as it
all was. If the level of intelligence that could be attained was truly as
phenomenal as Desh described, they readily agreed that age retardation could be
achieved after a number of sessions in this altered state, and that a hyper-infective
virus targeting egg cells could be perfected as well.

Thirty
minutes into their briefing, Kira had brewed up a pot of coffee and provided a
cup to each member of the team, who were unanimous in expressing their
gratitude for the caffeine.

Finally,
at just after four in the morning, the briefing was complete.

Metzger
leaned forward on the couch, so he could see around the now clean-shaven giant
seated beside him, and glanced worriedly at the bandage-covered bald spot on
the side of Kira’s skull. “I hate to bring this up,” he said, “but the
explosive is set to go off in only six hours.”

Kira
nodded, but remained silent.

“Is
something like this really possible?” asked Griffin, directing his question to
Connelly who was across from him in the compact living room.

The
colonel sighed. “I’m afraid so,” he said. “C-4 is the explosive everyone knows
about, but the military has developed plastic explosives even more potent than
this. Shape the charge correctly and it wouldn’t take much. Easy to booby-trap
a device so it can’t be removed.”

“Jesus,”
said Griffin in revulsion. “I am
so
sorry, Kira,” he added gently. “This Sam is truly a monster.”

Kira
attempted a half-hearted smile. “I appreciate the concern, Matt, but I’ll be okay.
Remember, he didn’t implant the device to kill me. He did so as an insurance
policy: to make sure I don’t kill
him
.
If he dies, I die. In the meanwhile, he’ll continue to reset it. He needs me
alive to get his hands on the fountain of youth. He’ll expect me to try to stop
him for a few days, get nowhere, and then let myself be recaptured: giving him
my secret rather than letting him carry out his plan.”

Griffin
nodded, but the frown didn’t leave his face.

Metzger
pursed his lips in concentration. “Kira,” he said, “you told him you couldn’t
give him the secret to your longevity therapy, or the location of the flash
drive, even if you desperately wanted to. Is that true, or partially a bluff?”

“Unfortunately,
it’s absolutely true,” replied Kira with a troubled look on her face. “He knows
firsthand that with the extraordinary capabilities enhancement gives you,
manipulating memory in this way is possible. Despite this, he thinks with
proper motivation I’ll find a way. But he’s wrong about that.”

“That’s
unfortunate,” said the major. “It means that negotiating a stop to the threat
isn’t even an option.” He frowned. “What if his plan succeeds? Is he right? Would
you then publically disclose your longevity treatment?”

Kira
sighed. “I would,” she replied. “The bastard is right. At that point there
would be no reason not to. Humanity’s only hope would be to achieve true
immortality, or figure out how to coax the production of new egg cells. Enhanced
molecular biologists might eventually discover a way to do this, but I wouldn’t
count on it.”

Metzger
frowned deeply. “If we want to have any chance of stopping this threat,” he
said, “I’d suggest that our first order of business is learning who this Sam
really is.”

“Agreed,”
said Desh.

“Do
we have anything to go on?” asked Griffin.

Desh
raised his eyebrows. “Actually, yes,” he said confidently. “I think we do.”

41

All
eyes were instantly upon David Desh, including Kira’s. He hadn’t yet shared his
theory even with her.

“First,
it’s almost certain Sam is in the government,” began Desh. “We know he has
considerable legitimate authority. Not to mention access to next generation
military helicopters and to safe houses. Second, he kept boasting of the men he
had in his pocket, be they molecular biologists or military muscle. He
apparently has dirt on a large and diverse cast of characters.” Desh leaned
forward intently. “So how would someone be able to get that much dirt on that
many people?” He turned his gaze to Connelly and raised his eyebrows. “Remind
you of anybody, Colonel?”

Connelly
thought for a moment and his eyes widened as he realized where Desh was headed.
“J. Edgar Hoover,” he whispered.

“J.
Edgar Hoover,” repeated Desh, nodding. “Head of the FBI for forty-nine years
under eight different presidents. Rumored to have used the power of the FBI to
wiretap and spy on citizens of personal interest to him. Kept secret files on
his enemies containing compromising or embarrassing information. Nobody could
be sure what he had on them. Rumor has it that several presidents called him
in, intent on firing him, but he left unscathed each time.”

“Many
believe he was the most powerful man in the history of the US, including
presidents,” pointed out Connelly.

“Exactly,”
said Desh excitedly. “I think Sam is taking a page out of Hoover’s playbook,
trying for the same results. And my guess is he’s well on his way. He claims to
be blackmailing numerous men. He has also demonstrated considerable power to
move men and equipment like so many chess pieces, not to mention arranging to
have the colonel provide me with Smith’s telephone number as my contact. Since
Hoover’s time, Congress has added more stringent safeguards against domestic
surveillance, of course—” He raised his eyebrows doubtfully.

“But
this wouldn't hinder him in the least,” said Kira, completing Desh's sentence. “Enhanced,
he can circumvent any safeguards. And the word ruthless is completely
inadequate to describe him. Here's a man who was a psychopath
before
he was enhanced. A man who bragged
about burning my brother alive.”

Desh
nodded gravely.

“So
you think Sam’s with the FBI?” asked Metzger.

Desh
shook his head. “No. The FBI isn’t the best agency to carry out this strategy
any longer. A modern day Hoover would choose differently.”

Griffin’s
eyes widened. “The NSA,” he whispered.

“Exactly.”

“We
better hope you're wrong,” said Griffin anxiously, “because if you're not, then
this just became even a bigger nightmare. The NSA makes Big Brother look like
the ACLU. They’re the largest intelligence gathering organization in the world,
which also makes them the most
powerful
agency in the world. They’re in charge of cryptology for the US, which puts
them in charge of signal’s intelligence: radio, microwave, fiber-optic, cell
phones, satellites—everything.”

“You
certainly know your NSA, Matt,” said Desh, standing and pouring himself another
cup of coffee. “They've been involved in this from the beginning,” he
continued. “In some capacity.” He shifted his eyes to Kira. “Someone had to
order satellites to track you, Kira. But that didn’t necessarily mean our
Moriarty—or Sam if you will—worked there. Given everyone was convinced you were
behind the Ebola threat, the NSA would have been called in regardless.”

“But
if he did work there, that would explain a lot,” said Metzger. “The NSA sends
daily intelligence reports to numerous agencies—and even to the White House on
occasion. If this Sam was operating from within the NSA he could readily spread
false intelligence. He could spread misinformation about Kira that would be
accepted as fact. And he put together a tight frame of the colonel in record
time. I’ve known Jim Connelly forever, and I know that nothing could ever get
him to betray his country. Yet the evidence they put together against him
almost had
me
convinced.”

“The
more you think about it,” said Desh, “the more sense it makes. The NSA would be
the ideal place for Sam to reinvent Hoover’s strategy, using capabilities that
Hoover could only dream of. The combination of being able to doctor
intelligence reports and eavesdrop on whoever he wanted to at the highest
levels of government—and blackmail them—would make him the ultimate puppet
master.”

“He’d
be high up in the organization,” said Kira. “But not the Director. Not enough
anonymity that way.”

Metzger
pursed his lips. “It feels right,” he said, his bushy eyebrows almost touching
as he wrinkled his forehead in thought. “But how much does this help us? Even
if we knew this were true, could we find him?”

“David
and I know what he looks like now,” said Kira.

“Yeah,
but they don’t just advertise employees of the NSA in an online directory with
pictures and addresses,” said Connelly.

“How
many employees do they have?” asked Kira.

Griffin
smiled. “It’s classified,” he said. “So is their budget. Their headquarters is
at Fort Meade, Maryland, just outside D.C. I read online that someone counted eighteen
thousand parking spaces there. The
Post
published an article a few years
back estimating the total number at all their facilities around the world at
close to forty thousand. Their security is legendary,” he added grimly.

“How
do you happen to know so much about them, Matt?” asked Connelly curiously.

“Are
you kidding,” replied Griffin, grinning. “The NSA is to conspiracy theorists
and hackers what Area 51 is to UFO freaks. Massive, powerful, shadowy. Not to
mention that they have a supercomputer center with the largest accumulation of
computer power ever housed on Earth.”

Desh
smiled mischievously. “Ever hack into it?”

“Absolutely
not!” said Griffin, looking shocked. “It’s the third rail of the hacking world.
First, they have the best security on the planet. Impenetrable as far as I
know. Second, if you did make it in, they would find out, and they’d come after
you—with a vengeance.”

Desh
looked amused. “If it makes you feel any better, they’re already coming after
you with a vengeance,” he pointed out. “Surely simple employee records and
photographs don’t warrant the NSA’s maximum protection.”

“Maybe
not,” allowed Griffin. “But even their minimum protection is pretty
unbeatable.”

“You’re
the only chance we have,” said Kira gently. “Can you do it?”

Griffin
sighed. “Maybe, given three or four days, I could get employee records. Maybe. But
we don’t have time for that.” He shook his head helplessly. “Kira is as good a hacker
as I am, so together we might be able to do it faster.” He frowned. “But still
not fast enough to stop this Sam character from unleashing his engineered virus.”

Kira
shook her head. “I’m only as good as you when my intelligence has been
enhanced. Otherwise, you’re orders of magnitude more accomplished than I am.”

“What
about enhancing Matt, then?” suggested the colonel. “If this mental
transformation is all it’s cracked up to be, with his vast base of knowledge,
he should be able to beat even the NSA.” Connelly pulled a pain-relief capsule
from his pocket, placed it on his tongue, and washed it down with some now
lukewarm coffee.

Desh
sighed. “I have no doubt that he could.” He eyed Kira warily. “But I don’t know
if we want to take that chance right now.”

“You’re
that
worried about the side effects of this pill?” said Connelly.

“I’ve
compared notes with Kira,” replied Desh, “and the sociopathy effect hit me
harder and faster than it hit her.”

Metzger
stroked his chin once again. He turned to Kira. “Do you think it hit David
harder because there was testosterone added to the mix?” he asked.

Kira
considered. “An interesting hypothesis,” she said. “But I don’t know.”

“It’s
possible Matt won’t display any antisocial tendencies the first time,” said
Desh. “Kira tells me her therapy didn’t affect her that way to any major degree
until she had been transformed a number of times.” He frowned. “But we can’t
rule out the possibility the effect will hit him even harder than it did me. That
would be dangerous for everyone.”

“How
hard did it really hit you?” asked Metzger. “It didn’t sound to me as though
you had turned into a total monster.”

“Not
a total one, no,” said Desh. “But reflecting now on some of the thoughts I had
in this state scares me. I still had some loyalty to Kira and humanity—which is
why I helped her escape. But the effect on me was to the right of Kira. What if
the effect on Matt is to the right of me?” There was no mistaking the worried
look on his face. “Eventually, all of you need to experience the effect, but
under far more secure and controlled conditions.”

Kira
sighed. “You know that I agree with you, David,” she said. “But there’s too
much at stake not to risk this. And it would only be his first time.” She
paused and then smiled sheepishly. “While we’re having this discussion, we
should probably ask Matt if he’s even willing to do this,” she added.

All
eyes turned toward Griffin.

“Well?”
said Kira.

Griffin
nodded. Then, smiling, he turned to Desh and winked. “I guess this is my chance
to become even
more
prodigious,” he said wryly.

The
smile vanished from Griffin’s face as he realized that Desh’s dour expression
hadn’t changed. “I understand your concerns, David,” he said. “If it will make
you feel any better, you can tie my legs together.”

“Oh,
I plan on doing far more than that,” said Desh.

“Okay,”
said Griffin, slightly taken aback. “That’s fine. But even if I turned into the
devil, what do you think an overweight, out of shape computer expert could do
against three highly trained members of the US military?”

A
troubled look came over Desh’s face. “Far more than you might imagine,” he said
worriedly.