Point of Contact

35

Paul saw the torrential downpour through the front-door entrance. He couldn’t stay in the building if he wanted to use his cell phone, and he was sure the landlines would all be monitored. He borrowed an umbrella from the security guard at the front desk, who remotely unlocked the door for him as he headed out into the heavy rain.

Paul surely must have looked like a fool to the security guard as he stepped outside for a walk, but he didn’t have an alternative. He figured he didn’t need to get more than a block away from the Dalfan building. He doubted the local authorities would allow Lian’s security system to rob the entire industrial park of cell-phone service.

The pounding rain beat his umbrella like a drum skin and the tires of the cars whizzing past him hissed through the standing water in the street. The slanting wind drove the rain beneath his umbrella, soaking his suit coat. At least it isn’t cold, he told himself. We’re too close to the equator.

Paul needed to find a quieter place to make his call. He spied a canvas awning on a building across from the Dalfan block and on a quiet side street. Paul waddled toward it as fast as his gimpy leg would allow.

Finally under cover, away from the traffic noise, Paul dialed Gavin’s cell phone. After a few rings, Gavin picked up.

“Paul Brown from way downtown. How’s it hanging?”

“Fine. How’s the foot?”

“In a boot for six weeks. Messes up my tango lessons, but other than that, not too bad. So what’s this about an emergency regarding Jack?”

“No one can hear this conversation, right?”

“I’m working from home. Nobody but me and the goldfish. So what the hell is going on?”

“I think we’ve got a security issue developing here,” Paul began. He’d carefully rehearsed the lies he was about to tell, but he’d memorized them in order, so he hoped he could keep them straight.

“‘Security’ as in national security?”

“I think so.”

“You’re full of it.” Gavin served as the IT director of both Hendley Associates and The Campus. Paul Brown didn’t know about The Campus or Gavin’s role in it.

Paul was startled by Gavin’s reaction even though he’d anticipated it. Of course it was a lie, and Paul wasn’t good at lying, but he had to make it work. “It’s a security situation involving Jack.”

“Jack? Why him? He’s a financial analyst, not a spy.” Gavin was covering for Jack’s role in The Campus — a piece of information Paul Brown need not be privy to.

“I know. But I think he’s having an affair with one of the corporate principals, and I’m convinced she’s working for the Chinese.”

Paul’s heart sank. He felt terrible lying about Jack, but he knew that Gavin would do anything to protect him.

“Good for Jack,” Gavin said. “In my youth, I had my way with a few ladies myself.”

“I bet you did. But how many of them worked for the Ministry of State Security?”

“If you know for sure she’s MSS, we need to tell Jack right now.”

“No, I don’t know for sure. That’s why I called you. I only have my suspicions. What I need is proof. I have a plan, but it requires you to write a piece of software for me.”

“You’re making me nervous. Maybe we should bring Gerry in on this.”

“No! Are you kidding? What if I’m wrong? Jack and I are here to help close a deal between one of Gerry’s old friends and the company this woman runs security for — in fact, she’s the daughter of the owner.”

“I don’t like the way this is sounding.”

Paul began to panic. Gavin was about to blow the whistle on him.

“Look, Gavin, if this woman really isn’t MSS but word gets out that we think she is, it will kill the merger. And if word gets out that Jack is having an affair with this woman, it might get him in trouble with Gerry, whether or not she’s a spy.”

“But especially if she is.”

“Which is why we need to find out for sure without Gerry or anybody else knowing. That way, we can protect Jack and protect Gerry’s client all at the same time.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll keep my mouth shut, at least for now. So what exactly do you need?”

Paul laid out what he was trying to do — find a work-around of the encryption on the USB drive, which was true. The lie he told was that he needed to be able to breach Lian’s computer to find out if she was working for the Chinese. He was under strict orders from Rhodes that nobody could know about the CIA spyware, and that included Gavin.

“That’s a tall order,” Gavin grumbled.

A woman dashed past Paul with a paper mask on her face and a clear plastic umbrella over her head. He stopped talking and kept his eyes on her until she was out of earshot.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to beat it. But it requires you to write a piece of software I can load on my laptop that will capture the encryption code on her USB drive when I load it.”

“That won’t be too hard,” Gavin said. “But once you’ve captured the encryption code, what do you plan on doing with it?”

“Load it onto one of my personal USB drives and use it to break in.”

Gavin whistled. “That might be a problem.” A long silence followed.

“Gavin?”

“Thinking.”

Paul heard keys tapping on the other end of the line.

Gavin finally spoke up. “Any chance you have the model and serial numbers for it?”

“Yes, actually. I’ll forward those right now.”

“Good. It just so happens I know a gal over at NSA who’s put together something that might do the trick.”

“Can you get it from her?”

“Are you kidding? What woman can resist my masculine charms?”

Then we’re screwed, Paul thought. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

“Besides, she owes me a favor. Let me reach out to her. But you still might have a problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Most security systems require two-factor authentication. Even if you grab the encryption code and load it on your drive, you’ll probably need her personal passcode to break in.”

“I’ve got that covered, thanks.” Paul didn’t tell him that the two-factor passcode for the CIA software was actually his. “Anything else?”

“I should be able to get that snatchware to you in the next twenty-four hours.”

“Not soon enough.”

“You don’t think I have anything better to do than run errands for you?”

“It’s Jack we’re talking about. Twenty-four hours won’t work.”

Gavin sighed. “Fine. I’ll figure something out. Call me if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Gavin. For Jack’s sake.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Gavin rang off just as the rain broke. Paul collapsed his umbrella and shook it out, suddenly excited by the possibility that his long shot of a plan might actually have a chance of working.

The wipers on his Toyota rental minivan slapped away the heavy monsoon rain thudding against his windshield as he turned toward Changi Airport. He followed the white arrows on the red asphalt lanes toward the pickup area outside the stunning glass-and-steel structure of Terminal 3.

While he made the run to the airport, the German left his Ukrainian and Bulgarian associates back at their posts in order to keep a close watch on Paul Brown.

The noise of the rain pounding on his roof suddenly stopped when his vehicle passed beneath the large steel overhang in front of the terminal. He spotted the lone figure with the smart leather satchel and flat driver’s cap standing by the giant number 4 gate marker, just where he should be. The German recognized the narrow-shouldered man instantly. He’d never worked with Wolz before, but knew him well by reputation. Everyone in the organization did. So did the foreign intelligence services. But no one knew Wolz better than his victims.

The German shuddered.

Wolz’s narrow face sharpened even further with displeasure, either because of the inclement weather or because of the fact he had to wait nearly two minutes before being picked up.

Or both.

The German pulled the silver Toyota minivan up to the curb and stopped, turning to make eye contact with Wolz, but the middle-aged man with the pencil mustache and angry blue eyes just stared straight ahead as if the van didn’t even exist.

Taking the hint, the German swore under his breath and crawled out of his seat and scrambled around to the other side of the vehicle. He opened the sliding rear passenger door and Wolz finally acknowledged him with a quick study of the German’s face and, finally, a curt, humorless nod.

Wolz stepped into the rear of the minivan and took a seat in the center of the bench, carefully setting his hand-tooled satchel beside him as the German dashed back around the Toyota and crawled into the driver’s seat, hurrying to avoid the airport police, who he knew circled the terminal in regular four-minute intervals in search of parking violations.

The German pulled away from the curb and eased into the departing traffic. They rode silently toward their hotel, where a special meal was being prepared for Wolz’s particular dietary needs by the Romanian woman the German had picked up two hours earlier from the same terminal. Wolz was the last member of the team needed to carry out the mission. Paul Brown’s movements had been carefully tracked and recorded, and both vehicles and weapons had been secured.

With Wolz finally in position, all they were waiting for now was the word to engage.