Conspiracy

57

The Vietnam national phone company had an admirable security system designed to prevent computer break-ins. It was so admirable, in fact, that Gallo had studied the system it was modeled on as a sophomore in college.

If he recalled correctly, the class mid-term required students to demonstrate all six ways of breaking into the system without being detected.

Gallo had shown there were actually eight.

After he broke into the system, Gallo obtained a list of every phone call Thao Duong had made in the past two years. Gallo then obtained lists of everyone those people had called — and everyone whom they had called. He then took the American numbers — Canadian, Mexican, and Ca rib be an as well as U.S. — and requested call lists on them. Ironically, though these requests were filled voluntarily by the phone companies, they took the longest — several hours rather than the ten or fifteen minutes it would have taken Gallo to get them by breaking in.

Bureaucracy.

Gallo shared the information with the other analysts, who used it in a number of ways. One created a chart showing Thao Duong’s “friend network”—acquaintances whom he regularly spoke to — and looked for interesting individuals.

Another focused on finding banks and financial institutions active in the list, and began tracing transactions that Thao Duong might be involved in. Another compared the phone numbers against intercept lists, looking for people whom the NSA or other agencies were already monitoring.

Two facts emerged from the analysis: Friends of Thao Duong had made wire transfers totaling over one hundred thousand dollars within the last week. Another set of friends had connections with the shipping industry, and with China.

The one thing that did not show up was connections to government officials outside of the agricultural ministry. As omissions were often more important than inclusions, this was noted as well.

Gallo also used a tool that compared the network of connections he had compiled to other known organizations, including al Qaeda. The tool tested how similar this network was to different profiles — in other words, did it look like a terror organization or a Girl Scout troop?

The tool worked on the theory that groups with the same goal tended to work in the same way. To use a very simple example, the members of a bowling league would tend to meet once or twice a week at a specific location within driving distance of their homes. They would generally purchase certain specific items — bowling shoes and bowling balls, for example. Most would fit a specific demographic, and would group themselves with others of an even tighter demographic on their team — the under-30 league, or the under-40 league, for example.

Rarely could the tool definitively identify what a network was or ga nized to do. It didn’t in this case, though some form of international commerce or trade was suggested. Its real value was suggesting other areas of inquiry. According to the tool, there should be more bank transfers as yet unde-tected. It also suggested that, based on the call patterns, Thao Duong was an important member of the network, but not the top person. Several other individuals — or nodes, as the program called them — were highlighted for in-depth investigation. Beyond looking for criminal and public records pertaining to them, the analysts would look at financial records, transaction lists such as credit card charges, and anything else they could find. Gallo handed off the list to the analysts, asking that they compile profiles. Several were in America.

Within two or three minutes of sending the request via e-mail, he got a phone call from Segio Nakami, the number two on the Desk Three analytic team. Almost the exact opposite of Johnny Bib, Nakami was considered eccentric at the Agency because he wasn’t eccentric.

“Robert, you’re asking for profiles?” said Nakami.

“Yeah, I got this thing going for Rubens in Vietnam.”

“There are Americans on the list.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you looking for?”

Gallo explained what he was doing.

“Did you fill out the papers?” asked Nakami when he finished. By “papers,” Nakami meant legal requests; the forms were actually done electronically.

“I thought, like, I didn’t have to because Rubens said go.”

“No, you have to fill them out.”

“Um, it’s going to like take two hours.”

“Are you on real time?” asked Nakami.

He meant, was Gallo supporting a mission, where the information was needed right away or in “real time”? Except that Nakami didn’t mean that all, because he knew very well that Gallo wasn’t down in the Art Room.

“No,” said Gallo.

“I’m sure Mr. Rubens didn’t want you to bypass procedure,” said Nakami. “Let me know if there’s a problem.” Stinking lawyers, thought Gallo, reaching to bring up the proper screen.