Jack had an idea about who might have done it and what they were looking for. He thought about telling Paul about it but decided against it. Paul seemed distracted enough as it was, and there wasn’t anything the accountant could do about it. Jack gave his room a thorough inspection for electronic microphones and cameras but didn’t find anything — or so he hoped.
He suddenly felt very exposed.
Utterly exhausted, Paul headed upstairs to his bedroom and took a shower. Unlike most Americans, he preferred to shower at night and get the day’s dirt off and climb into bed clean. It was a practice Carmen had taught him.
Beneath the hot, steaming water, Paul’s Dalfan encryption problem occurred to him again. He’d been racking his brain all day, and if he was being honest with himself, the booze wasn’t helping matters. The shower was pushing away the cobwebs. But he needed the booze tonight. Grief had fallen on him again, as unbidden as the plague. The only way to loosen its grip and keep the tears away was the booze. Better numb than despondent. At least he could work that way.
Paul had come up with half of a plan, but he couldn’t figure out a way to finish it. Suddenly it dawned on him that he knew someone who could.
Gavin Biery, Hendley Associates’ IT director, was a man Paul grudgingly acknowledged was damn good at his job, even if he was a total smart-ass.
Paul toweled off, putting the final pieces together. What he needed next was for Gavin to write a piece of software to capture the Dalfan encryption code on the Dalfan USB drive he now had. Gavin’s software had to be written in such a way that when Paul installed the Dalfan USB into his personal laptop, the code would be captured. After capturing the code, he would load it onto the CIA drive, and then he could install the CIA drive directly on the Dalfan desktop.
But none of that would happen if Gavin didn’t write that software, and write it fast. The deadline was only three days away.
Unfortunately, Paul also knew Gavin was up to his eyeballs in IT requests at the busy financial firm. He had to find a way to jump to the front of that line and convince Gavin to drop everything else he was doing and write him that piece of code, ideally within the next twenty-four hours, if that was even possible. Knowing Gavin, it would be a long shot to capture his attention, let alone get him to jump through a major hoop on such short notice.
Paul needed to come up with a compelling reason for Gavin to do this for him without compromising his mission for Rhodes. But how?
Paul pulled on a pair of pajamas, then opened up his laptop’s browser and typed in the private Web address for Hendley Associates. He clicked onto the employee portal and logged in with his Hendley Associates passcode. He searched through the company directory until he found Gavin Biery’s secured message link.
He crafted a short message he hoped would not only grab Gavin by the short hairs but also get him to respond right away so he could explain everything to him. He wouldn’t be able to talk to him at Dalfan with cell service jammed, so he’d have to check the Hendley Associates portal regularly. He needed to find a way to talk to Gavin, though, and not just message him. Talking was much better.
It was easier to lie that way.
33
Paul had checked the Hendley Associates portal several times last night and early this morning, but Gavin hadn’t yet responded. Even when Gavin wasn’t in the office — which was rare, because the man had no social life — he was known to check his messages frequently. Either he was ill or unable to access his machine. Either explanation was a disaster from Paul’s perspective. He checked again one last time on his smartphone before they arrived at Dalfan, just in case.
And there it was. The text from Gavin he’d been waiting for. Sort of.
I’m in the hospital. This better be as important as you say it is.
At least Gavin was online. Paul messaged, Can you talk?
A second later, Gavin responded:
As soon as I’m discharged. About an hour.
That was good. That gave Paul enough time to find a way to get clear of the Dalfan building and its cell-jamming system to call him. It occurred to him that he should probably show some concern for his colleague. He typed:
Why are you in the hospital? Everything OK?
Without a second’s hesitation, Gavin typed back:
Penis reduction surgery.
Paul sighed.
LOL. Seriously. Nothing major, I hope.
Broken foot. Slipped on the ice outside of my place. Emergency room wait was killer. All good now except for the excruciating pain and the endless requests for IT help from work. But thanks for asking.
I’ll call you as soon as I can. Thanks.
Don’t mention it. Sorry I couldn’t respond earlier. Any hints?
Better if we talk. It’s complicated.
You have my number. Ciao.
“Must be important,” Jack said. “You’re texting a dictionary.”
Paul shrugged, poker face in place. “That project I was working on before? Just a couple follow-up notes.”
“It’s late back home.” Jack checked his watch. “Almost eight o’clock. You’re working whoever’s on the other end of that text pretty hard.”
“That’s the idea,” Paul said, as they pulled into the underground garage at Dalfan headquarters.
Jack and Paul entered the Dalfan building, followed the usual security routine, and headed for their offices.
Jack hadn’t slept at all the night before, feeling certain he was under observation even though he had no evidence of it. It was like when someone talked about lice. It didn’t matter that the lice infestation happened across town or even in the previous year; just the thought of the nasty little vermin made him start scratching his scalp.
The idea of his privacy being violated really pissed him off, but the thought that Lian and her team assumed that Jack and Paul were thieves made him even angrier. There wasn’t any question in his mind that Lian was behind the break-in. His anger compounded by his lack of sleep, Jack was livid when he and Paul showed up at Dalfan that morning.
Jack spotted Lian in Yong’s office, the two of them engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation. Jack’s plan was to read her the riot act this morning about the break-in. He was certain it was one of her security people that searched their place. The only reason he could come up with was that they were probably trying to find out if Jack or Paul had stolen any valuable secrets. He still wasn’t convinced they hadn’t planted any surveillance devices, either — and probably for the same reason.
Judging from the energy she and Yong were throwing off behind the closed glass door, Jack decided to postpone his confrontation with Lian for the time being.
Since she was highly distracted at the moment, it was the perfect time for him to go and check out the warehouse that Paul told him about last night.
Paul was just sitting down at his desk when Bai appeared, bleary-eyed and yawning.
“Long night?” Paul asked.
“My cousin’s birthday party. I think I drank a little too much, but lots of fun and lots of pretty girls. Lah.”