Code 6, p.23
Code 6, page 23
There was silence on the line, and then his reply. “That’s not good enough.”
Kate knew she was in a delicate situation, and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She glanced again at Agent Lang’s screen, and the prompt worked for her.
“Then let’s fix it,” she said.
“There’s only one way to fix it.”
Kate had dealt with the “my way or the highway” mindset before, but it felt different coming from someone who considered violence a solution.
“Maybe if you tell me the problem, we can find a way to fix it together.”
It wasn’t a scripted line, but Agent Lang seemed to approve. The caller, however, was losing patience.
“Look, I know what I want, and I’ve played this game enough to know if the person on the other end of the line is capable of delivering what I want.”
“Try me.”
“I’m not going to start talking code with you so that the FBI can feed you bullshit answers and stall for time while their tech team tries to figure out where I’m calling from.”
Busted. Kate’s skepticism over the line-feeding strategy was borne out. Even her unscripted lines were sounding scripted.
“That’s not going to happen,” said Kate.
“You’re right. It’s not. Because the next time I call, you are going to have someone on the line who will know what I’m talking about and who has the authority to deliver it.”
Agent Lang was typing a response, but Kate used her own words. “I can’t make any promises. But if you agree to put Patrick on the line right now, I’ll agree to talk to my father.”
He chuckled over the line. “Your father? No. I want Jeremy Peel.”
His demand threw her, and Kate borrowed Agent Lang’s response on the screen. “I want to be straight with you. I won’t promise things I can’t deliver.”
“Then don’t make promises. Just make it happen.”
“I want to speak to Patrick.”
“He’s not here. I don’t negotiate in front of my hostages. What kind of amateur do you think you’re dealing with? Just get me Jeremy Peel.”
“That’s a big request.”
“It’s not a request. It’s a demand. If you ever want to see Patrick alive, have Jeremy Peel on the next call with you.”
“I’ll need time,” said Kate.
“I’ll call you in the morning.”
“That’s too soon. You have to give me time to persuade him.”
“Here’s all the persuasion you need, Kate. Tell Jeremy that hearing his voice would mean the world to me. And to Olga.”
Kate wanted to ask who Olga was, but he didn’t give her the chance.
“No FBI on the next call,” he said. “Just you and Jeremy. Or someone is going to get seriously hurt.”
The call ended. Instantly, the screen on Agent Lang’s computer switched to video conference, and a tech agent’s voice came over the speaker.
“Triangulating now,” he said.
Lang’s LCD was a split screen. On the left was a satellite map showing the location of cellphone transmission towers in Colombia. On the right was a stream of numbers and other figures, which Kate could only assume were mathematical calculations. It was the key to triangulation, the process of collecting and interpreting the electronic pulse that a cellphone in power-on mode transmitted to surrounding cell towers.
“Got it,” he said.
The split screen vanished, leaving only the map. The target area was shaded.
“What are we looking at?” asked Kate.
“The city of Buenaventura, on the Pacific coast of Colombia. That’s where the call originated.”
“That’s the best you can do?” asked Kate. “Narrow it down to a city of how many people?”
“About half a million,” said Noah.
“I was hoping for better,” said the tech agent.
So was Kate. The FBI’s Cellular Analysis Survey Team was the best in the world. “Did I do something wrong?” asked Kate.
“You had nothing to do with it,” said Noah.
The tech agent explained. “A cellphone sends out a pulse in forty-five miles in all directions. If there are three towers within that radius, we can triangulate and calculate a fairly precise location of the phone. If we have two towers, we can at least narrow it down to a few hundred acres. Unfortunately, this call originated from a place where there was only one cell tower within forty-five miles, which is not unusual in this part of the world. So the call could have come from anywhere within forty-five miles in any direction of that tower.”
“So a circle of ninety miles in diameter. Basically, anywhere in the city.”
“I’m afraid so. Sorry. Anything else I can help with?”
“No,” said Agent Lang.
“Only if you can tell me who Olga is,” said Kate.
There was silence, both from the computer and in the room.
Kate looked at Noah. “How about you? Can you or anyone else in the DOJ tell me who Olga is?”
Noah didn’t answer. Neither did Agent Lang. Kate’s read was that it had nothing to do with keeping her in the dark. They had no clue.
“Sounds like I need to ask Jeremy Peel,” said Kate.
Chapter 45
Kate grabbed her coat and was out the door before Noah could even push away from her dining table. As she hurried down the hallway, she heard him call from behind to “hold the elevator.” She pushed the door close button and rode down alone. She was outside the building and on her way down the street to the Metro station when Noah caught up with her.
“Talking to Jeremy Peel is not a good idea,” he said.
“You lied to me, Noah.”
Kate continued through the crosswalk toward the National Mall. They were three blocks from the Smithsonian station.
“I’ve never lied to you,” he said.
“You just lied again.”
“Can you give me at least some idea of what you’re talking about?”
Kate stopped on the sidewalk and faced him. The night had turned cold, but there was virtually no wind, and their words collided in puffs of conversation in the glow of city lights.
“You led me to believe my father shipped Patrick off to Colombia so you wouldn’t be able to interview him. But you knew all along it was Jeremy Peel.”
He looked away, but there was no denial. “In fairness, I didn’t know if it was Peel, your father, or the CIA.”
“You mean Walker? The venture capital arm of the CIA?”
“I can’t get into details.”
“Of course you can’t,” she said with sarcasm. “It’s only Patrick’s life hanging in the balance. Why would you share any details?”
He drew a breath, then let it out slowly in a steam cloud of capitulation that vaporized in the frosty night air. “All right. I’ll level with you. There was interagency distrust. Some folks in the CIA thought the purpose of the DOJ’s audit was to prove what a bad idea it is for the CIA to invest taxpayer dollars in private tech companies.”
“But that’s not what you’re trying to prove?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the audit really about? Stop playing games with me.”
“Are you pretending not to know? Or do you really need me to tell you?”
“Are you trying to piss me off? Or does it just come naturally to you?”
“Don’t get mad.”
“I’m beyond mad. First, you asked me to spy on my father’s company, but you wouldn’t tell me what Project Naïveté was. Then you asked me to be your informant and get Sandra Levy to tell me why she was willing to commit espionage, but you wouldn’t give me credentials to understand what code she was trying to steal. Now I’ve agreed to partner with the FBI to negotiate for Patrick’s release, and I still can’t get credentials to understand the code the kidnappers have demanded as ransom. Meanwhile, all these secrets could get Patrick killed!”
“I’ve done everything by the book.”
“It’s time for me to close this book.”
Kate turned and started up the sidewalk. Noah followed.
“Where are you going?”
“None of your business.”
He kept pace, walking at her side, talking fast to match her pace. “You know something, Kate? I thought Agent Lang was out of line when she asked what was more important to you, getting clearance or getting Patrick home safe. But maybe she had a point.”
“Nothing is more important to me than getting Patrick home.”
“Maybe. But something else isn’t far behind.”
“Kiss off, Noah.”
Her tone silenced him, and it surprised her as well. Kate wondered if she was directing too much of her anger toward him. Patrick was unquestionably the priority, but she wished she could tell him exactly what that “something else” was. But he’d surely think her a desperate fool—or worse—for hoping any of this might explain her mother’s bizarre suicide note.
I did it for Kate.
“What if I told you that Sandra Levy did it for her daughter?”
Noah seemed puzzled. “What do you mean by ‘it’?”
The question was more pertinent than he could have possibly imagined.
“Not sure. But the more I learn, the less ‘it’ looks like stealing code from Buck Technologies.”
“Are you suggesting Sandra Levy is innocent?”
Her thoughts were spinning with confusion. “I’m not ready to have this conversation with you, Noah. If anything, I need more distance.”
“What does that mean?”
“Putting you and the FBI in charge of my negotiations with Patrick’s kidnapper was a mistake. He’s even more at risk.”
Noah clearly didn’t like the change of direction. “Kate, don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry. You’re out. I’m going private.”
She turned and started toward the Metro station.
“Kate!”
“Call me when I have clearance.”
She continued up the sidewalk, alone.
Chapter 46
It was springtime south of the equator, where October showers bring November flowers. The steady patter of raindrops on the poop deck woke Patrick just after dawn.
“Olga, you up?”
She was on her stomach, still lying at Patrick’s feet, where Javier had left her. At least he’d bandaged the knife wounds on her back before binding her wrists. The crimson dots on the floor had turned brown overnight.
“I never fell asleep,” she said.
“How do you feel?”
“Like a human pincushion.”
It almost came across as a bad joke, but Patrick realized it was her way of conveying in English that it still hurt.
She tried another position to get comfortable, still on her stomach but with her chin resting on her hands, using them like a pillow on the floor. “So who is this Kate on the phone?” she asked, looking up at Patrick. “Your girlfriend?”
“She’s actually my old babysitter.”
Olga started to laugh, but she was quickly reminded of her knife wounds. “Ow! Don’t make me laugh.”
“Sorry. But it’s true. She used to call me Baby Patrick.”
Olga couldn’t hold it in. “Ow, ow, owww! Stop it!”
“I’m not messing with you, I swear. But don’t worry. Kate really can help us. Her father runs the tech company I work for in Virginia. Buck Technologies.”
“Her father is Jeremy Peel?”
“No. But wait. You’ve heard of Jeremy Peel?”
“I have,” she said, blinking slowly. “I was a virgin when I met him.”
Patrick had no idea what to say. He hadn’t expected to find a reason to hate Peel more than he already did, but there it was.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Not your fault.”
“It is, sort of. I work for the man. One of his whiz kids. I build the toys that make him feel invincible, like he can have anything he wants. Anyone he wants.”
“We’re all responsible for our own actions.”
He wasn’t sure if she was talking about him, Peel, or herself. Maybe all of the above, in which case, she was being way too hard on the victim.
“Do you mind if I ask how you met him?”
“Same way I met you. Javier.”
He had more questions, but he sensed she’d rather not talk about it. “Peel will get what’s coming to him,” he said.
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“He’s not a nice man,” said Olga, the understatement of the year.
“Not at all,” said Patrick.
The sound of gentle rainfall soothed the silence between them, but it was suddenly interrupted by squeaky footfalls right outside their cabin. The door opened, and a soaking wet Javier entered. He removed his coat, shook off the rain, and hung it from a peg on the wall.
“Hey, El Rubio. Does this rain make it harder for me to call Kate?”
“Any atmospheric water vapor can scatter radio waves. Rain, snow, fog, clouds. All of it.”
Javier laid his cellphone on the countertop and took a seat on the barstool. “It’ll stop, eventually. No rush.”
“Babysitters don’t mind waiting,” Olga whispered, teasing Patrick.
“What’s that, chica?”
“I said we don’t mind waiting.”
“I don’t give a shit what you mind,” said Javier. “Just listen up. I got some rules to cover. Normally, I never negotiate with hostages in the same room, so these rules are going to be simple and strictly enforced. Number one. Olga, you say nothing. Not a word. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“El Rubio, when I put the phone up to your face, you get fifteen seconds on the line. You don’t say hello. You don’t answer any questions. You sure as hell don’t say where you are. You say exactly what you said last night to keep the knife out of Olga’s back. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t speak geek. You do. So talk real pretty, and make your own ransom demand. Tell them the code I want. We clear?”
“Crystal,” said Patrick.
Javier climbed down from the barstool, went to the porthole, and checked the weather. “I give it half an hour,” he said. “Rain or shine, the call is on.”
Chapter 47
Monday morning marked Kate’s second visit to Jeremy Peel in twenty-four hours, this time at his office in the District. She hadn’t expected a warm welcome, and it wasn’t. He’d refused to answer her phone call, and she probably wouldn’t have made it past the receptionist if she hadn’t instructed the young woman to pass along the magic words:
“Tell him I want to talk about Olga.”
Peel’s assistant entered the lobby and escorted Kate to the sitting room adjacent to Peel’s office, where it was just Kate and the chairman of the board. She declined coffee. Peel drank a cup while Kate recounted her phone conversation with Patrick’s kidnapper. Then she turned to her decision to take the negotiations private.
“I know why the kidnapper wants you on the next call,” she said.
He placed his cup in the saucer. “Yes, you just told me. He said he needs someone with authority to deliver the code he wants.”
“That’s not the real reason. Or at least it’s not the only reason.”
“I have zero interest in guessing games. If you have something to say, say it.”
“The kidnapper knows that if you’re on the line, the FBI won’t be. You won’t allow it. Or should I say, you can’t risk it. You can’t take the chance that he’ll say more about this Olga with law enforcement on the line.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he dialed on his cell and put the call on speaker, which came across to Kate as a man trying a bit too hard to prove he had nothing to hide.
“Christian Gamble’s daughter needs to beat a possible Title III wiretap on her cellphone,” he said. “I want all calls to her cell forwarded to a single encrypted line accessible by two phones, one for me and one for her.”
“How soon?” the man on the line answered.
“Now.”
“You got it.”
Peel ended the call.
Kate picked up right where they’d left off. “I’m right, aren’t I? You can’t risk having law enforcement on the line when you’re talking to the kidnapper.”
He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “My, aren’t you clever. Fine. I sent Patrick away on a corporate adventure. There’s nothing illegal about that. A company has no obligation to make it easy for the Justice Department to stick its nose in places it doesn’t belong.”
“So who’s Olga?”
“It was her job to make Patrick want to stay there as long as possible.”
She knew exactly what he meant, but this Olga and her Baby Patrick didn’t quite compute. “You hired a prostitute?”
“Indirectly. But that’s not important. The point is, I did not get him kidnapped. I don’t want to hurt that kid in any way. He’s this company’s golden boy—we need him alive.”
“How does the kidnapper know about Olga?”
“No clue. You’ll have to ask him.”
Kate wasn’t convinced that he was telling her everything, but she got more than she’d expected.
There was a knock on the door, and Peel’s tech guy entered. He asked for Kate’s phone, which she gave to him. He poked at it with an unfolded paper clip, which didn’t strike Kate as very high-tech, but apparently that was the way even the best and brightest at Buck Technologies removed the SIM card from an iPhone.
“Do you want all your calls forwarded away from the wiretap, or just calls from certain numbers?”
“I’m not even sure there is a wiretap,” said Kate.
“It’s safe to assume there will be,” said Peel. “The FBI can’t be happy about your taking the negotiations private.”
“Can you fix it so we forward only calls from numbers not in my contact list? I don’t need all my calls sent to the new encrypted line. Just the ones from—”
“Your bookie,” said Peel. Apparently he wasn’t comfortable with the word “kidnapper” in front of his tech guy, no matter how trusted he was.
