Spyder Web

Whatever consideration Roe had shown Gerty a moment earlier was now replaced with a withering stare. ‘Only if I was officially here, which I am not. This conversation never took place, Mr Gerty.’

Gerty understood the implied threat in Roe’s tone and nodded in agreement.

‘You said it yourself, Mr Gerty: According to the terms of the Coles’ divorce settlement, all materials from your investigation were to be turned over to Michael Cole. Officially, this file doesn’t exist, so there’s nothing for me to sign for. Good day, Mr Gerty.’

Roe’s visit left the grizzled private investigator seated behind his desk, speechless.

8

NEAR THE SOUTHERN COAST OF HAITI

December 6

Kilkenny checked his dive watch and punched a button on the global positioning satellite receiver mounted into the curved console of the swimmer delivery vehicle. He matched up the longitude/latitude figure from the GPS with the nautical map that he’d memorized over the last few weeks, then verified that they were on target, on schedule.

After launching from the submarine USS Columbia, Kilkenny led the SEALs on a six-mile submerged approach to Haiti’s southern coast. When they reached the ditch point, the squad shut down the swimmer delivery vehicles and set them on the seafloor half a mile from shore and under enough water that only a major storm could disturb them.

The squad NCO, Chief Max Gates, unhooked the roll of camouflage netting from his SDV and began unfolding it. The other SEALs each grabbed an edge and pulled the fabric over the two SDVs and staked the corners into the seafloor. After a quick check on equipment and air, Kilkenny led the squad on a half-mile swim to the beach.

Once ashore, the SEALs stripped off their scuba gear, wrapped the equipment in weatherproof bags, and buried it. Kilkenny recorded the location of the buried gear from the GPS.

Each man then checked his equipment and provisions for this leg of the mission. The satchel charges and food were stowed in backpacks, while the weapons and ammunition were placed on each man, close at hand.

Black and green camouflage paint was applied to their faces, making them virtually invisible in the dense jungle foliage. The devils with green faces had arrived in Haiti.

Kilkenny then took the headset from his communications specialist and flipped the switch on the satellite transmitter.’Trident is feet-dry,’ he announced, informing the mission planners in Washington that they had arrived.

‘Message received, Trident,’ a distant voice responded. ‘Good hunting.’

9

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

December 11

In light of Gerty’s report,Cole’s one-sided divorce settlement made complete sense. Roe had found his deepest secret and, after five days of trailing Cole in Chicago, she was now prepared to use it in exactly the way the government feared—as a means of manipulating an employee of the CIA. While Gerty’s report implied a certain level of promiscuity, Cole currently displayed no interest in any kind of social life. The divorce had left him emotionally, as well as financially, castrated. Cole lived a quiet, solitary existence that included few entertaining diversions.

The CIA rented an apartment for Cole a few blocks from Moy’s headquarters. While he was at work, Roe entered the unit and found it to be a great improvement over his Washington home. The apartment was bright, open, and equipped with tasteful rented furniture. On the kitchen counter were several travel brochures for the Caribbean islands. The brochures all described the warm climate, friendly natives, sunny beaches, and excellent scuba diving.

Cole’s been living like a monk since his divorce, Roe thought as she tried to get a sense of the man. Perhaps he’s planning a long vacation once his project is finished.

That evening, Roe followed Cole as he emerged from Moy Electronics onto the cold Chicago street. Since his apartment was within walking distance, Cole didn’t bother keeping a car. He didn’t cook much at home, either, as Roe discovered when she looked into a nearly empty refrigerator. The CIA probably had a meal per diem, which Cole would use in local restaurants. Tonight, he picked up a late edition of the Chicago Tribune and stopped in for a bite at McGregor’s Pub.

Roe waited about fifteen minutes before entering the bar. McGregor’s was a throwback to a different era—a dark old neighborhood public house, like those found in every little town in Ireland. Established in 1905, McGregor’s had weathered Prohibition, the Great Depression, and innumerable changes of time and fashion, yet it remained nearly untouched well into its third generation of ownership.The influx of young urban professionals had brought new economic vitality to the bar’s bottom line, but the owner obviously had no intention of upscaling his working-class bar by adding ferns or trendy beers.

She sat on a stool beside the massive oak and brass bar that ran the length of the room. Steam rose from a pass-through window between the bar and the kitchen beyond; the scent of the grilled food filled the air. Roe ordered a draft beer and the fish and chips special. After looking over the bar, she located Cole tucked in a corner booth near the back.

Her food arrived quickly, the fish still sizzling from the deep fryer. Roe gathered up her dinner and utensils in one hand and her beer in the other and walked over to the booth. Cole was halfway through a Reuben sandwich, his face buried in the paper’s ‘Commentary’ section.

Roe summoned her most disarming smile. ‘I thought I saw a familiar face in here. Mind if I join you?’

‘I guess not,’ Cole replied, motioning to the bench opposite him as he folded his evening paper.The puzzled, blank look on Cole’s face told Roe that he didn’t quite remember her. ‘You’re doing that story on Moy, right?’

‘Yes, I’m Alex Roe, and don’t worry about forgetting my name. You can’t expect to remember everyone you meet.’

Cole looked visibly relieved at being let off the hook. ‘I admit, I’m awful with names. It takes me weeks before I get them straight.’

‘Now, Michael, if I’m going to join you for dinner, I do have one ground rule: no shoptalk. I deal with computers and technology and business all day long, so I don’t want to hear about anything along those lines. Is that all right?’

‘Fine. I can’t talk about work anyway. So what do you want to talk about?’

‘I don’t know,’ Roe mused. ‘Have you seen the new exhibit at the art museum, the Muromachi paintings from Japan?’

‘No, I’m not really big on art,’ Cole replied, ‘just movies, books, and sports. I did finally go out to Oak Park to see the Frank Lloyd Wright houses. I never understood why so many people raved about him until I saw his houses next to all those Victorians.’

‘So what do you think of him now?’

‘I guess I have to buy into the tour guide’s party line: Wright was an architectural genius. All the houses in that neighborhood were built about the same time, but only his still look innovative.’

‘From what I know about Wright, that was true throughout most of his career. You mentioned books,’ Roe said, changing the subject. ‘What are you reading these days?’

‘Would you believe a book about medieval France?’

Roe kept the conversation moving as they ate, bringing up light, unchallenging topics.Cole warmed up and actually seemed to appreciate the company. The waitress cleared away the plates and brought another round of drinks for them both—Roe’s treat.

Cole was in a receptive mood and it was time for Roe to make her pitch. ‘So, I hear that your project is winding down. Are you back to Washington after that?’

‘Eventually, but first I’m taking a much-needed vacation.’ Cole’s persona outside the office was much more relaxed, and a few beers did wonders at easing the tension. ‘My wife and I busted up right when this job with Moy started going hot and heavy, which was good, because it didn’t leave me much free time to wallow in self-pity. Now it’s time for me to get my head back together, so I’m taking all the vacation days I’ve built up and heading for the islands.’

‘Where about?’ Roe was playing the good listener, feeding Cole lines that would keep him talking.

‘All over, Grand Cayman, the Bahamas.’ Cole was very enthusiastic about his upcoming vacation. ‘I’m even going to the Dominican Republic. I’ve never been there before, but I hear the diving is fantastic.’

‘You’re a scuba diver, huh? I’ve done a little diving, but not as much as I’d like.’

‘There’s nothing like it.’Cole gushed with enthusiasm. ‘Shipwrecks are my personal favorite. I’ve been on some over four hundred years old. The sea life and scenery are unbelievable, too. There is nothing comparable to it on land. The only negative thing I can think about diving is that you have to come back up.’

‘That and the cost,’ Roe added.

‘Yeah, that and the cost,’ Cole agreed, ‘but you gotta have some fun in life. I have most of it saved up, but I’ll have to hit on my credit cards a little to get me over the top. It’s a bit of a financial stretch for me right now, but I have to take some time off.’

‘I hear you,’ Roe said with a sympathetic voice, ‘and I’d like to help you out.’

‘What do you mean?’Cole’s face suddenly looked tense and a little apprehensive as his mental defenses went up.

‘I’ll lay it all on the table.’ Roe was presenting her most honest, sincere self. ‘My presence here tonight is not an accident. I sought you out deliberately because I need your help, and I’m willing to pay you for your time and effort.’

‘Does this have something to do with that Moy article you’re writing?’ Cole asked suspiciously.

‘Yes and no. The article is finished. What I’m referring to is a project for a private client, one whose information needs are very specific. This client has asked for a look at his major competitor’s new product line before it hits the market.’

‘That competitor being Moy.’Cole was following Roe’s line of thought very carefully.

‘Yes. My client produces computer and electronics components that are compatible with Moy equipment, at a lower cost. Their problem is that the reverse engineering time increases with each product generation, leaving Moy with longer and longer monopolies over the market while my client plays catch-up.’

Cole shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t work for Moy. How could I possibly help you?’

Roe leaned close across the table. ‘You can get me into Moy’s computer network. Once inside, I’ll find what I’m looking for. I’m offering you fifty grand for a onetime use of your password.’

Cole blinked. He felt the adrenaline surge through his body while trying to remain outwardly calm. ‘That’s a lot of money for a password. Why don’t you just hack your way in?’

‘I could, but that takes time.’

‘This sounds too easy. I get a bunch of money to let you use my password. The upside is great, but the downside’s a bitch.’

‘Those are the inherent risks of the game. You don’t win big by hedging your bets.’

‘Up to now, all I’ve done is sit here and listen to your pitch. You approached me; I did nothing to initiate this conversation.What you’ve proposed amounts to a bribe, and my acceptance of that bribe would be unethical and illegal. As a government employee, it’s my duty to report this incident.’

‘But you won’t.’ Roe spoke with a bold certainty, as if she already knew the outcome.

‘What makes you say that?’ Cole replied, shocked by her confidence.

‘The money.’ Roe then pulled out a brown envelope from her soft-sided briefcase and placed it on the table in front of him. ‘My offer is very generous, and you need it.’

‘What? How would you know if I needed money?’

‘I checked you out very thoroughly, Michael. I’d be a fool not to know as much as I could about you before making an offer like this. I know all sorts of interesting things, including the real reason behind your divorce.’

Cole’s eyes lit up and a look of anger flashed across his face.He held his cool, but just barely, as Roe continued.

‘Approaching you, as you astutely pointed out, is a significant risk for me. I have a report from a certain private detective that minimizes that risk greatly.’

‘Let me see that,’ Cole growled as he pulled the envelope from under Roe’s hand.

Inside, he found a copy of the report that his ex-wife’s lawyer had used against him; the photographs, times, and dates were all there. Cole found he could no longer control his anger.

‘How the hell did you get this?’ he shouted angrily as he slammed the document onto the table. A few other patrons of the bar looked over at the disturbance.

‘Settle down and I’ll tell you.’

Cole eased back into his seat, still enraged by her revelation. Roe knew that she’d rattled him with the report. Cole was feeling backed into a corner and now she would help him make the correct decision.

‘Your ex-wife’s lawyer had her detective retain it as an insurance policy. If I recall correctly, that’s a direct violation of your divorce agreement.’

The news infuriated Cole, who was now livid. ‘That bitch! I should have known I couldn’t trust her.’

‘Well, now you don’t have to worry about her.’ Roe spoke calmly and clearly. ‘I am the only person who can expose your secret. I don’t really care what you do in your private life, or with whom; that’s none of my concern. What I do care about are my clients.My offer still stands: You get me into Moy’s computer, and I’ll pay you fifty grand. Do we have a deal?’

‘What about this?’ Cole asked, pointing at the report.

‘I keep the originals until I feel that I can trust you. This report has no value to me other than to buy your silence; I have no interest in seeing your career destroyed.’

Cole’s anger eased a little, but he was still visibly upset.

‘Look, if I was a real bitch, I’d just blackmail you and save my money. No, I’m a businesswoman, and what I’m offering you is a win-win deal. I get the information I want and you get some badly needed cash. I saw your divorce settlement—you got burned.’

‘Got that right,’ Cole agreed bitterly.

‘Fine,’ Roe replied, attempting to channel Cole’s anger toward her goal. ‘Here’s a chance for you to get financially back on your feet. At fifty grand, I’m paying you more per word than Schwarzenegger gets in the movies.’

Cole’s focus slowly shifted toward Roe’s offer and the booth grew quiet as he weighed his decision.

‘All right, I’m in.’

Roe smiled at him warmly. ‘Do you have a dedicated data line into Moy?’

‘Yeah. The project I’m on has a tight schedule, so I log a lot of system time in the off-hours.’

‘Then it won’t be unusual for you to log in on a Friday night. Is tonight a problem for you?’

‘No, I don’t have any plans. What about the money?’

‘I have it with me,’ Roe assured him. ‘Once I’m in and out, the cash is yours to do with as you see fit. I’ll bet you can do a lot of scuba diving on fifty grand.’

‘I think I can put it to good use.’

‘Great.’ Roe stood and collected her coat from the hook while Cole remained seated in the booth. She fished a wallet out of her purse and paid the bill.

‘Business meal,’ she said jokingly while collecting the receipt. ‘Let’s go.’

10

To Roe’s delight, Cole’s project had provided him with a Silicon Graphics workstation equipped with a highspeed modem. Over a clean, dedicated line, this transfer would go about twice as fast as her last job at Pangen Research. The nature of Cole’s project also granted him unusually high system access for an outside contractor, high enough that Roe was easily able to create a temporary superuser on the Moy network with unlimited access. In ten minutes, Roe was effectively in total control of the Moy Electronics computer network.

Once Roe began copying the information she wanted onto her optical disk drive, there wasn’t much left to do but wait.

‘Here,’ Cole said as he held out a cold can of Coors, ‘it’s on the house.’

‘Thanks.’ Roe popped the top and took a swallow of the frosty liquid.

‘As terribly exciting as copying files is, I think I’ll go watch the Blackhawks-Red Wings game.’

‘Go ahead. I’ll just sit here and baby-sit the machine.’

The sounds of rabid Blackhawks fans filled Cole’s living room as the television came to life with the game. It was still early in the first period, both teams scoreless, but the checks were flying hard and fast between the longtime NHL rivals. Roe wasn’t much of a hockey fan, preferring college football since her days at Georgia, so she kept her attention on the file transfer.A small window on the monitor’s graphical display indicated that data was pouring out of Moy Electronics at an incredible rate.

Bored,Roe moved the mouse and clicked open another window. She decided to indulge herself by cruising through Moy’s project library, looking at anything that piqued her interest. The depth of the project library was a tribute to the productivity of the company’s engineering and software staff.

Littered among the report icons were a few multimedia demonstrations of upcoming Moy products. She slipped on the headphones that were plugged into Cole’s computer and began running the demos. The presentations were slick and professionally done, several of the minimovies incorporating special effects that the gurus at Industrial Light and Magic would love to add to their repertoire.

Scrolling further into the library,Roe discovered a directory icon labeled U.S. Government Projects. She clicked the directory open and found three more multimedia icons labeled Gatekeeper, Crypto, and Spyder.

‘No!’ Cole shouted with the groaning fans on the television as Detroit scored.

Roe ran the Gatekeeper demo and learned of the government’s effort to eliminate unauthorized computer access with neural-network devices that could actually learn and adapt to changing conditions. Such a device could fend off a hacker attack, going so far as to track the intruder back to his own computer. An anxious moment, in which Roe wondered if she was being tracked by a Gatekeeper, passed when the narrator announced that the first devices were to be installed on the government’s computers early next year.

‘Good thing there are no plans for commercial sale of those things’—she sighed—‘or I’d be out of business.’

The Crypto demo briefly described a new method of encryption for voice and data transmission that the government had recently put into place.

Very impressive, Mr Moy, Roe thought as the second demo ended. You’ve pushed both the hardware and software envelopes with these two secret projects. I wonder what you’ve dreamed up for Spyder.

Roe’s request was answered as the jazz sound track for the Spyder demo filled her ears. The device, a small black cube, appeared identical to the Gatekeeper, and the first moments of narration confirmed the two devices’ common lineage. The narrator, a sultry-voiced woman, then began describing the Spyder’s unique talents for covert intelligence gathering.

‘My God,’ Roe gasped as the demo ran through a simulated Spyder operation.

Once in place, the device quickly took over the host computer network. Users who logged into the infested network unknowingly lost their passwords, thus their electronic identities, to the Spyder. The simulation ended with the Spyder activating an outside line from the host network and transmitting the stolen information to its controller. The demo credits listed Bill Iverson and Michael Cole as coauthors of the Spyder’s operating program.

Roe slipped the headphones off and turned toward Cole, who was engrossed in a Blackhawk power play. That man has created an intelligence-gathering gold mine.

She walked into the living room and sat in an overstuffed chair facing Cole. ‘Michael, I think I’ve found an opportunity for us to develop a long-term, highly profitable business relationship.’

Cole muted the sound on the hockey game. ‘I’m listening.’

‘Good. First, I want you to tell me everything you know about the Spyder Project. Then you and I are going to have a chat with my partner. If this Spyder of yours is real, it could be worth millions.’

11

HAITI

The jungle march was just what they’d expected: slow. Keeping clear of villages to avoid any undesired contact with the natives meant moving through thick jungle growth.What might normally be a two-day hike became a five-day exercise in silent motion. The heaviness of the flora seemed to envelop them as tightly as the sea, cutting off all but a few rays of sunlight.

The six men probing the jungle with Kilkenny moved as one, silently advancing, with their senses reaching out in every direction. The SEALs operated under the assumption that Masson and his men were as well trained and disciplined as they were. Their opponents also had the defender’s advantage of familiarity with the jungle, and booby traps were to be expected as they approached the enemy camp.

Gates was on point with Darvas, leading the squad during the night march, when he raised his hand and brought their approach to a stop. In the dark growth ahead, Gates saw the unmistakable silhouette of a person in a clearing of jungle growth. He motioned for Darvas to provide cover while he approached the darkened figure.

Crawling slowly across the moist ground on his stomach, Gates closed the distance to his target. Each motion he made, each breath he took was carefully controlled and measured. Like a jungle predator, Gates was calm and patient in stalking his prey.

On Kilkenny’s order, the remaining SEALs took up defensive positions around the clearing. Should Gates and Darvas find themselves outgunned, they would have a place to fall back. Kilkenny waited quietly with the rest of his squad as Gates neared the clearing.

From the jungle’s edge, Gates studied the figure but detected no sound, no motion coming from the man. Not even the sound of breathing. The figure was upright, but unnaturally so, with arms extended outward to each side. Crucified.

Gates moved up close and discovered that, whoever it was, he had been there awhile. The remains were in an advanced state of decay, with the clothing rotted and little flesh remaining on the bones. A garland of feathers and beads was hung around the corpse’s neck, along with several other items that Gates couldn’t readily identify.

‘I’m coming up behind you, Max,’ a muffled voice crackled in Gates’s ear. After years of working together, he knew Kilkenny’s voice even through the distortion of a throat mike.

‘What do you think?’ Gates asked, his gaze still fixed on the grisly figure.

‘Voodoo. Practically everyone on this island believes in the voodoo religion, and Masson is considered a powerful high priest. This is a warning.’ Kilkenny looked at the tattered remnants of the man’s uniform and noticed the shoulder boards hanging loosely. ‘Looks like he was Haitian military. We must be getting close to Masson’s camp.’

Kilkenny raised his hand, then pointed the way. Slowly, they re-formed and melted back into the jungle, leaving the grisly sentry to his silent watch.

12

LANGLEY, VIRGINIAL

December 13

Cole’s flight arrived in Washington on schedule and the bleary-eyed systems analyst entered Frank Villano’s office casually dressed and slightly rumpled. He dropped his suitcase and coat by the door and poured a cup of coffee from the pot that his boss brewed for his personal use. Villano liked his coffee strong, which is just what Cole needed this morning.

Villano took one look at Cole’s faded jeans and dayold stubble and groaned. ‘A little casual for the office, aren’t we?’