Dark End of the Spectrum
By Anthony S. Policastro
Dark End of the Spectrum. Copyright © 2009 by Anthony S. Policastro. All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Smashwords. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
For information contact Anthony S. Policastro at aspolicastro@earthlink.net or visit the author’s blog at http://aspnovelist.blogspot.com
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual events or actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition
August 2009
For Joann, my wife, my soul mate,
my rock in the world
Chapter 1
He never thought it would come to this. His index finger poised over the enter key of his laptop, his hand wavering, his mind swirling with a dozen scenarios. John Bastille had lost his wife, his dreams, his house, everything. Now he was fighting back, but deep down he knew it was wrong. It went against everything he believed. He wavered one last time, deciding, not deciding and then he pushed his finger down. The screen flashed blue and it was done. He thought about his two toddler boys and what they would think of him when it was over, when years later he was older and useless or maybe dead. He threw the computer down and swore. The screen went black, but it was too late – the program was streaming into the Internet and what John didn’t know was that in a few days a lot of people would die.
Nancy Foster stared at the five new emails she received this morning while sipping a cup of Earl Gray tea. The tea gave her a warm cozy feeling reminding her of her grandmother who she often shared a cup with on Sunday afternoons. The tea intoxicated her with past and not so past memories of her mother’s mother - memories that flowed like a river ever changing into one pleasant thought and another until three men entered the lobby. Their shoes clapped on the marbled floor like a herd of horses and dissolved her thoughts like a breeze scatters a wisp of smoke. Two were young either Korean or Filipino, and the third was taller and middle-aged, a kindly next-door neighbor type. They spoke among themselves and pretended not to notice her.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. May I help you?” she got out as the men walked closer. A feeling of dread filled her chest as the men passed her desk oblivious to her. Call it intuition, a sixth sense or just plain common sense, but Nancy knew something wasn’t right about the three strangers. Every visitor had to sign in before they entered the building and they had to be escorted by an employee. It was her first job after graduating as a communications major from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill last year, and now she was working for a communications company – Inviscom Wireless – at their national headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. She had tried for months to get into the company in the product-planning department, but always received the polite rejection letters saying they had found a candidate that would better suit their needs and encouraged her to continue to seek additional employment opportunities with the company. When she saw the receptionist position posted on Inviscom’s web site, she applied for the entry-level job hoping it would lead to bigger and better things. She was hired because she “fit” perfectly into the company’s image – young, attractive and up on the latest goings on, according to the Human Resources manager who was assigned to acclimate her into Inviscom's corporate culture.
She put her cup down spilling some of the tea on the dark mahogany desk and moved her tall, slender figure from the crescent shaped reception desk. The men stood in front of the elevator doors. Her A-type personality took over completely.
“Gentlemen! Excuse me!”
The doors opened and the men vanished. She quickly slammed her hand on the call button, but the doors ignored her. She went back to her desk and snatched the phone.
“Hello this is Sergeant Lopez. Can I help you?”
“Hi Hector? This is Nancy at reception; three men just went up the elevator and didn’t sign in. I couldn’t stop them. I don’t know where they are headed.”
“Were there two Chinese guys?”
“Well, yeah, I think so. How did you know that?”
“Mr. Grayson is bringing in two computer experts to test the security of our systems. He probably didn’t think he had to check in,” Lopez explained.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I only got twenty emails reminding me about it.”
“Okay, if you say so. They had awfully big briefcases.”
“Computers and stuff.”
Nancy dropped into her high back chair and swiveled around to face the flat screen monitor. She stared at her unread emails and tapped her manicured fingers on the desk. She opened a new email and began typing to Scott Jones, head of the IT department on the fifth floor about the three men who had just entered.
***
The elevator stopped on the fifth floor of the 20-story building and the three men casually walked out into the corridor continuing their feigned conversation and camaraderie. They entered a small empty conference room and closed the door. The Asian men quickly unzipped the large black briefcases and pulled out laptops, Ethernet cables, and a radio frequency scanner. Within seconds, they had the computers connected to a live Ethernet port in the room that gave them access to Inviscom’s network. Seconds later they were installing software they would later use to control the cellular phone company’s computers.
“The HLR servers are not on this network,” said the Korean man staring into one of the four laptops on the conference table. “They’re in a computer room located in S seven hundred.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it,” the middle-aged man said.
He picked up the desk phone on the table. Nancy at reception swiveled in her chair.
“Hello, Inviscom Wireless. How may I direct your call?” she said.
“Hello. This is the CIO. I have two contractors who will be working with us for a few days and I need access for them.”
“One moment, please,” she said instantly recognizing the middle-aged man’s voice, a distinct Midwestern twang.
Nancy scattered sheets of papers looking for the company directory, a gray booklet that she kept nearby. She found it under a paper tray and opened it to the executive officer’s page. She ran her finger down the list until she found the CEO’s name. She picked up the phone and pressed the hold button again.
“Hello, Mr. Payton, I’ll connect you to the security department. They will help you get what you need,” she said, deliberately testing the man to see if he really was Mr. Grayson.
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Yes. By the way, my name is not Mr. Payton. He’s the CEO. I’m the CIO.”
“Oh, sorry for the mix up, sir. I’ll connect you now.”
Within minutes the three men had disconnected their equipment and headed for the security office on the first floor. A short woman with a round face and a large friendly smile met the men as they entered. Her baggy white starched shirt conflicted with her tight black pants, which highlighted her overweight abdomen. She asked them to press their hands onto a hand scanner and took their photos. The two men left the security office with freshly made access badges hanging from their belts. They met the middle-aged man in the corridor and took the elevator to the basement.
“That’s it,” the Korean man said. “I remember from the building layout.”
It was the only door with a hand print scanner next to the door jam. The Filipino man pushed his badge into the card reader and placed his right hand on the scanner. The door clicked open. The men stepped up six inches onto the raised floor, where miles of cables lay underneath and connected the Inviscom computers with the rest of the world. The Korean man quickly moved through the rows of refrigerator-sized servers and mainframes and stopped at one with a small plastic stick-on-label on top.
“Here it is,” the Korean man said grabbing hold of the sides.
The machine rolled forward easily. He dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out a four-inch long device the thickness of a cigar. He split the device open and clamped it around the optical cable snaking out the back of the HRL server. It matched the metal shielding on the rest of the cable perfectly.
“What’s that?” the middle-aged man asked.
“An optical tap. It’ll transmit data to us at the same speed it’s flowing in and out of the network. We can monitor all the cell phone calls in the country.”
“All the calls?”
“All the ones on this HLR. We have other teams infiltrating the others. My associate here is placing taps on all the optical cables coming in.”
“HLR?”
“Home Location Registry – the database containing all the information on the cell phones in this network. We’ll even know where a caller is located when they make a connection.”
“Are you sure it’s undetectable?”
“They have no way to detect it. I checked. It’s virtually impossible and if they did, they wouldn’t be able to find it. We will be gathering information for a long time,” the Korean man said smiling.
“And we will be able to control the network?”
“Yeah, when we have most of the passwords in a few days,” the Korean man said.
“And the weapons?”
“It goes without saying. They are all one and the same.”
“Okay, are we done here?” the middle aged man said. “We’re exceeding our window.”
“I just have to make sure the taps are working and we’re history.”
The Korean man produced a PDA and tapped the screen. The door jam clicked and a tall slightly overweight man wearing a baggy white shirt and brown casual slacks rushed in.
“You’re not supposed to be in here without an escort! What are you doing and how did you get in?” the man said his puffy face turning red.
“Mr. Grayson hired us to conduct a security audit on your network,” The middle-aged man said. “And you are?”
“Scott Jones, head of IT and Mr. Grayson never mentioned any audit to me,” Jones said.
“Maybe you were intentionally left out of the loop. We are testing for vulnerabilities.”
“I don’t think so. You all better come with me,” he said and pulled out a Blackberry.
The Filipino man quickly appeared and kicked the phone out of his hand with a precision aimed force that sent the PDA hurling towards the wall, where it hit and shattered into several pieces. He spun around, raised his leg like a jackknife, and thrust his right foot into Jones’ windpipe. Jones fell backward holding his neck gasping. The Filipino man knelt down next to Jones and looked into the fear in his eyes.
“You should have not come in here,” the Filipino man told him relishing the moment.
He pulled out a stun gun and stuck it against Jones’ neck. Jones writhed and bucked for several seconds, and then took one deep gasp and seemed to hold it for a few seconds. His body went limp and his eyes forever stared into the bright white florescent lights in the ceiling.
“You didn’t have to do that,” the middle-aged man said his face about to burst.
“He was going to tell,” the Filipino man replied. “I don’t like people who tell.”
The middle-age man shook his head and smirked.
“You stupid asshole!” he yelled. “We are supposed to be discreet about this now you’ll have the whole city putting a spotlight on this!”
“I don’t like people who tell,” the Filipino man said.
The middle-aged man reached into his jacket pocket – the other man did the same and they locked eyes. The older man knew he was no match for him and slithered his hand out of his jacket.
“Bring him over here behind the racks. Put him by the power conduits so it appears he was electrocuted.”
The Korean man walked over to the body and helped the Filipino man drag it next to the far side of the room. The middle-aged man watched them with emotionless eyes. He looked up and spotted an object in the corner of the room.
“Oh shit! What about the security cameras?”
“I turned them off,” the Korean man said struggling to pull the body behind the conduits. “Their security sucks. They don’t have anyone watching; they are just taping. No better than a supermarket. Lucky for us.”
“Okay, let’s go,” the middle aged man said.
The Asian men packed the gear and the three men walked out as casually as they had entered. The men were silent when they walked across the expansive lobby towards the double glass doors.
Nancy Foster immediately stood up her eyes riveting onto the three men.
“Excuse me gentlemen. Mr. Grayson you have to sign your guests in and out.”
“That’s ok. We’re in a hurry. I have to get them to the airport.”
‘It will only take a second,” Nancy insisted. “Didn’t they just get here? They’ll have to turn in their badges.”
“I said we were in a hurry!”
“But, Mr. Grayson, you are the one who developed this policy. Are you going to violate your own policy?”
The middle-aged man looked at the Asian men and then back at Nancy. She slowly moved her hand feeling under the edge of the desk until she found a small button attached to the underside. She pressed it.
“Listen young lady. Sometimes I have to violate my own policy to accommodate a customer. Now if you don’t mind, we will be leaving.”
As he turned to leave, a loud intermittent alarm went off and the doors made a rapid clicking sound. The Korean man pushed against the doors, but the locks were not match for him. The Filipino man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a Glock 30 equipped with a silencer. He fired four rounds shattering the thick glass. The Korean man pushed himself through the door, kicking out the glass that remained. The middle-aged man followed and the Filipino man turned and aimed the gun at Nancy. She became a statue - their eyes locked like lasers. Two security guards rushed into the lobby and his trained reaction was automatic, instinctive. He swung the gun towards them and fired. They dove onto the floor but not quick enough. Hector Lopez slammed onto the hard floor, the pain from the five-inch bloody hole in his calf nearly blinding all his senses. The other guard scrambled behind Nancy’s desk and lay there quivering like an epileptic. The gunman swung the gun towards Nancy and fired. She tumbled over the chair and fell onto the floor like a limp rag. Her hand hit the cup of tea as she went down – the memory-laden liquid instantly disappearing into the dark carpet below. A black Mercedes had already pulled up to the front of the building and the back door swung open. The car seemed to swallow the men as it shot out of the lot and quickly melted into the morning rush hour traffic on Interstate 285.
***
Hildy Grummenweurkes drove her 1994 Toyota Corolla into the hospital parking lot as if she were in an obstacle course. She took the first empty parking space closest to the main building not caring if the car was perfectly spaced between the white lines. She moved her small purposeful frame out of her car and rushed into the emergency entrance. She approached the receptionist desk, but her confidence seemed to ooze away when she realized where she was.
“My granddaughter…she was in a…I have to see her. Is she all right? Where is she? I have to see her now!”
“Calm down and tell me her name,” the large black woman at the desk said her eyes revealing that she had been through this before.
“Nancy…” her face scrunched up and her jaw drooped. “Oh, god I can’t remember her last name...Foster…that’s it.”
“It’s ok. Take a deep breath,” the black woman said.
She typed the name into the computer and waited for the information to appear on the display.
“She’s in intensive care,” the receptionist said. “You’ll need to sign in and I’ll get security to take you there.”
“Is she all right?” Hildy asked her eyes beginning to glaze over.
“She’s stable and resting comfortably. The head nurse will know more.”
“Oh thank God!” Hildy said.
A police officer approached and escorted Hildy through a maze of hallways and waiting areas. Hildy gasped when she entered Nancy’s room. Her head was wrapped in a white bandage and there were intravenous tubes connected to her thin arms. An oxygen tube was strapped around her head holding the plastic piece to her nostrils. She looked like an alien creature to Hildy.
“Oh my God, you poor thing!” Hildy said. Tears raced down her weathered cheeks. She leaned over to get a closer look.
A hefty nurse with short blonde hair entered.
“Are you Mrs. Grummenweurkes? Is that how you pronounce it?”
“Yes,” she said dabbing her eyes with the tissue she pulled out of her small purse.
“This is your granddaughter?” Hildy nodded. “She is very lucky. The bullet grazed the right side of her temple, but didn’t cause any major damage. She lost a lot of blood, but she’s stable now.”
“Oh my God! Who would do such a thing? Do they know who did this?” Hildy said tears rolling down her face again.
“She has a slight concussion. She’s young. She’ll be ok,” the nurse said trying to allay the old woman’s fears.
“She’s my only granddaughter,” Hildy said.
The nurse turned to leave. “If you need anything just press the red button there by the bed.”
“Thank you,” Hildy said and raised her hand to wave her off. The nurse noticed Hildy’s small fingers were covered with tight fitting leather gloves. She thought it was odd for her to be wearing them in May.
Hildy got comfortable in the tired lounge chair next to the bed and listened to her granddaughter’s shallow breathing. Several hours later, Hildy noticed Nancy’s eyes flutter open. She grabbed Nancy’s hand and moved closer.
“It’s me, honey,” Hildy said tears filling the rims of her eyes.
“Hi, Nana,” Nancy whispered in a dry, barely audible voice. “I’m alive? I thought I was dead.”
“You’re very much alive and I’m so glad,” Hildy moved closer to hug her, but had to stop from the web of intravenous lines that snaked over the bed. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Nancy slowly noticed all the machines surrounding her and smiled.
“Now, don’t you go touching any of these machines?”
“I love you, child,” Hildy said smiling broadly revealing her perfect white teeth. It was the first time she smiled since getting the phone call about Nancy.
“I have my leather gloves. See?” She held up her hands.
“I love you, too Nana,” Nancy smiled.
Nancy closed her eyes and went back to sleep; Hildy did the same reassured that her granddaughter would be all right.
Chapter 2
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Dan Riker entered his finished basement where he kept three computers and several radio frequency analyzers. Working as a wireless security consultant with a major university had its benefits – the use of state-of-art equipment that cost as much as a nice house and access to the brightest brains in the industry.
He wheeled out a small office chair from the long table and dropped his six-foot frame into it. He had planned to spend only a few minutes at his computers because he promised his wife, Amelia and his daughter, Kaileigh that they would spend the afternoon at the park.
A flat panel monitor displayed a changing view of the outside of the house from two surveillance cameras. He had created a screensaver that pulled in the images from the cameras and displayed them in random order. Dan pushed the computer mouse aside and lines of text appeared - the logs of the radio frequencies that passed through the air in and around his home in the last hour. He scrolled through the text – nothing out of the ordinary, cellular phones, cordless phones, a police scanner, aircraft transmissions, lots of baby monitors. Then the phone rang and the upstairs door opened.
“Dan! Dan! It's for you, honey. Pick up the phone,” Amelia yelled.
“Got it. Hello.”
“Hi Dan.”
“Hello Jerry. Where have you been? I thought you fell off the earth! It's been weeks since I heard from you. Some friend you are,” Dan said smiling.
“I was traveling and I'm swamped at work. The baby is not sleeping, so I have been out of it. I've been going to bed at eight most nights, then the baby wakes us several times during the night. I'm exhausted.”
“Sounds like it. I remember those days too well and I'm glad they're over.” Dan explained.
“I can't wait so I can get some sleep,” Jerry added.
“Don't worry. It will be here before you know it. It seems like time just slips away. Kaileigh is eight now and it seems like we just blinked our eyes and advanced eight years. It goes really quick with kids. Enjoy it while you can.”
“Oh, thanks,” Jerry said. “I’ll remember that at three in the morning when I’m feeling like a zombie and trying to get Sara back to sleep.”
Dan laughed.
“So what's up?” Dan asked.
“I was wondering if you could log a transmission.”
“Where are you?” Dan asked.
“I’m at the lab.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Yeah, I want to run a test to see if I can send a movie-length file to our site in Rochester in less than a second. I also want to see if it interferes with anything out there. It's illegal as hell, but it would tell us a lot. No one has really tested this - it's all theory,” Jerry explained.
“Really? I read about that, but no one has been able to do it. You’re talking about an ultra wide band transmission, right?”
“Yeah, the cable and satellite companies are afraid it will interfere with their programming so they have lobbied the FCC to nix it,” Jerry explained. “It’s only been used for short transmissions up to forty feet. It's definitely disruptive technology. It will certainly disrupt the status quo and the pace of wireless technology.”
“If you can do it,” Dan said. “Are you sure you won’t get caught? I’m not keen on jail cells.”
“I’ll just say it was an accident. It should work,” Jerry said. “We’ve tested it here in the lab several times. Besides, why would they want to arrest a couple of geeks like us?”
“And if it works what will you do with it?”
“Are you kidding? It’s worth billions, Dan! It would be a major breakthrough in wireless!” Jerry enthused. “We’re not talking about transmitting a chunk of data from one city block to another. We’re talking about transmitting data across the country and even to Europe in a matter of seconds! I think it will replace almost all of the current cell phone technology and eliminate the need for communications satellites,” Jerry added. “It would be like taking the space shuttle to Europe. You would be there in a matter of minutes.”
“Well okay mister mad scientist send your transmission. I don’t think I can be implicated,” Dan said smiling.
“Great. I’ll send it now. Let me know if you see it,” Jerry said.
Dan watched the computer monitor looking for the telltale spike on the wave graphs. The radio frequencies appeared on the monitor as green waves that danced up and down indicating frequency and strength. He watched the waves undulate in the 850 to 1900 megahertz frequency range indicating cellular phones in use nearby. Dan heard the faint clicking of Jerry’s fingers on his keyboard and he could visualize him at his computer in lab. Dan had been there many times working with Jerry on joint projects with IBM. He recalled Jerry’s tenaciousness at finding a solution. He would go at it all night if he had to causing his wife to call the police. Dan counted the years he had known Jerry – since sophomore year in college - and recalled why he liked him so much – Jerry was like a brother he always wished he had.
“Ouuuuuuuuuuuch!!!” Dan screamed.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know! It was a loud screeching sound. I think I’m deaf.”
“Are you ok?”
Dan swayed like a drunk and fell off the chair. The room swirled around in a kaleidoscope of liquid color as he lay on the floor overwhelmed by the vertigo. When the spinning stopped Dan picked up the phone, but the phone was dead. He carefully pulled himself up onto the chair and noticed his desk lamp was out. He was still woozy and wondered if the vertigo would ever go away. The light in the stairwell flickered and the door at the top of the stairway opened.
“Dan! Dan! The power's out!” Amelia yelled. “Check the fuse box!”
Dan started to get up and fell to the floor. He crawled to the first step and slowly pulled himself up, the nauseous feeling in his throat preventing him from going any farther.
“I can’t,” he said barely audible.
Amelia gasped as she saw her husband lying on the bottom step.
“Dan! What happened?”
She rushed down to him.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m making a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow,” she said her blue eyes revealing her maternal concern.
Dan took a deep breath and rubbed his face in denial.
“I’m fine. I’ll check the circuit breakers now.” He started up the stairs.
“Are you sure?” She held her hand on his back and walked up with him.
As he climbed the steps, he thought it was strange that most people still called circuit breakers fuses. Fuses hadn’t been used in homes since the 1950s. He entered the garage and opened the power box looking carefully at the rows of circuit breakers. They were all in the “on” position. He went back into the house.
“We have a blackout,” he said to Amelia.
Then the lights came back on.
“Not anymore,” she said.
“Such a wiseass,” he said and reached over to her, his arms swallowing her petite frame.
“I love you,” she said.
“Ditto.”
He looked into her eyes and instantly he was in another world. He slowly pressed his lips onto hers and the kiss accelerated into the passion that always flowed between them. Then the phone rang. Dan ignored it, but Amelia squirmed.
“Get the phone!” she yelled.
Dan reached for the phone on the wall and looked at the caller ID.
“It’s Alex.”
“Your brother?” Amelia said her eyes wide. “He never calls you.”
“That’s because he’s too afraid to change his phone plan. I think he’s the only one left in the country who pays for long distance calls,” Dan said smiling.
“Now be nice,” Amelia said laughing. “He is your brother.”
Dan pushed the talk button.
“Hey Dan, this is Alex! A bunch of planes just crashed at the airport by you. They're saying its terrorists.”
“Oh no!” Dan hung up and rushed into the living room.
“What’s the matter?” Amelia said.
“Some planes crashed at the airport and they think it was terrorists!”
Amelia followed and Dan turned on the TV. The local station announcer Keith Garvey appeared on the screen.
“Two seven thirty sevens circling the airport awaiting clearance to land literally fell out of the sky around noon, according to eye witnesses. The planes appeared to lose power and crash on two separate landing runways. It is feared that there are no survivors…”
“Oh those poor people,” Amelia said as she sat on the edge of the sofa. “I feel so bad for them.”
“I hope it’s not another nine eleven,” Dan said turning to look at Amelia. His face paled.
“Dan…Dan…what's the matter? Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Dan rushed downstairs to the computer monitor. Amelia followed. He grabbed the mouse, his hand shaking as he moved it and opened the log that had just recorded the last hour of radio frequency activity. He scrolled through the file and stopped at 12 noon. Tall green bars and waves took up most of the real estate on the monitor indicating that a powerful radio transmission had passed through a fifteen square mile area in and around his house. The airport was less than twelve miles away. His hand shook more violently.
“Dan! What's the matter?” Amelia asked frantically.
“I…I think Jerry caused those planes to crash! I have to call him! I have to call him!”
“How?”
“I’ll explain later,” he said.
Dan picked up the phone and dialed, but the line was busy. He dialed again and the line went dead.
Chapter 3
Sunday, May 18, 2008
“I have to go there! I have to tell him!” Dan shouted.
“You should stay here with all that’s going on,” said Amelia, a frown distorting her sky blue eyes and opalescent skin.
“I can’t. He wouldn’t even know he did it and maybe we can come up with something to keep him out of jail.”
Amelia saw that clear purpose and intense determination in Dan’s eyes and she knew nothing would stop him not even her pleading.
“You’re a strange man, Dan Riker. Why is it that you show such confidence when dealing with issues at work, but you shy away from people who challenge you?”
Dan’s confidence melted away and he took on a puzzled, sheepish look. He took a deep breath and looked into Amelia’s eyes.
“I don’t know. I’ve told you this before. It’s just that work is black and white; people are gray. With technology, either it works or it doesn’t. It’s predictable most of the time. People are not.”
“So you are saying you don’t like to deal with people because they are unpredictable?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all. It’s just that…that I don’t like conflict. Something happens inside of me and I just freeze and have to get away. I can’t deal with it. It’s like instinct – I’m not in control of it. Afterward, I beat myself up thinking of all the things I would have liked to have said or done. Now, I have to go.”
“You better be careful! And don’t end up in jail! Bail is expensive,” Amelia smiled the smile that had smitten Dan twelve years earlier.
Dan smirked and grabbed a set of keys off a row of hooks in the foyer and rushed out of the house. Several minutes later, he pulled into the entrance to IBM’s main campus a few miles from the Raleigh Durham airport where the planes went down. He stopped at the white guardhouse with its single pole barricade across the narrow entrance. A blackened window slid open and a young uniformed guard with a round puffy face and blue-green eyes peered out.
“No one’s allowed in. You’ll have to turn around,” the guard said his voice revealing he was from New York.
“I’m here to see Jerry Lansbach.”
“I’m sorry. No one is allowed in with the blackout,” the guard said.
“It’s important. I need to talk with him now. Can you call him?”
“Phones are out.”
“I just spoke with him.”
“You better turn around.”
“Listen, he’s my friend and I really need to talk to him. It’s about the blackout.”
The young guard saw the steely determination in his eyes and reached for his radio. Dan thrust a contractor’s ID badge with an IBM logo at the guard.
“I used to work here for god’s sake!”
The young guard stared at Dan, who resembled a hungry dog waiting for a meal.
“I’ll try to locate him. What building?” the guard said defeated.
“The lab.”
The guard closed the glass and then opened it several seconds later.
“I’m sorry. No one is there. You’ll have to turn around.”
“Are you sure? I just spoke with him.”
“No one was there, sir.”
Dan drove onto the main road and turned into the parking lot of a local bagel shop. He dialed Jerry’s cell phone, but he didn’t get through. The bagel shop was closed and Dan walked around to the back and slipped into a heavily wooded area. He worked his way towards the IBM campus and emerged in the parking lot. He casually walked to the lab entrance and saw Jerry standing there talking to a security officer. Dan knocked on the glass door and Jerry opened the door.
“Did you get the transmission out? Two planes went down at the airport!” Dan yelled.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I think your transmission downed the planes at the airport; they just fell out of the sky. Your transmission probably fried all the electronics.”
“No way! When did this happen?” Jerry asked.
“About a half hour ago.”
“Oh no!”
“You’re screwed,” Dan said.
“No way! I never got the transmission out. When I started the sequence, the whole building went dead. I was scared to death. I thought I knocked the power out. Then I went to call you and my cell phone was dead. I don’t know what the hell happened. I was just about to leave for your house.”
“Are you sure it didn’t get out? My logs said a hellva pulse went through here.”
“I don’t know. No wait. My logs said the sequence failed, so none of it should have been sent,” Jerry explained. “What time did you say the planes went down?”
“Around noon,” Dan said.
“Hmmm, that’s about the time the building went out. Yeah, I started the sequence, it failed, and then the building went out. So, do you think something else happened?” Jerry said and looked at his watch. “Holy shit! Look at that! My watch stopped at twelve oh four! That’s when the building went out!”
“Something else happened. I think a powerful EMP brought down those planes and fried your watch, your cell phone, and whatever else was turned on at the time. I’ll bet you’ll find other things fried.”
“That would explain all the security here. Who could do that?”
“The government. We should leave,” Dan said the weight of his words suddenly hitting home.
“Yeah, we should leave.”
Chapter 4
Monday, May 19, 2008
The next morning, Dan Riker woke up to a man's voice talking about morning traffic on Interstate 40 and he thought it was a dream until he heard the voice again. It was the Bruce and Cary show on WGVT, a radio DJ duo notorious in the area for executing outrageous stunts that sometimes got them arrested or sued. Bruce discussed the plane crashes and was convinced it was a terrorist act and came up with several outrageous scenarios that could have caused the disaster. Cary refuted every one and suggested they call an official from the airport to confirm Bruce’s claims. They were calling the airport when Dan rolled over and put his arm around Amelia. She stirred slightly and then opened her crystal blue eyes to a foggy Dan with a smile.
“Time to get up,” he said.
“It’s morning already?”
“You always say that.”
He gave her several light kisses along her neck and worked his way downward slowly unbuttoning the buttons on her pink pajamas until he reached her breasts.
“I’m not even awake yet,” she said smiling.
“You will be.” And he continued downward.
“You’re giving me goose bumps,” she said.
“That’s the idea,” he said removing her bottoms.
“You always save the best for last,” she said.
As they made love, Dan drifted to a place only in his mind, place where all the pressures, annoyances, and disruptions of life melted away. It was a place of pure pleasure that he knew and shared only with Amelia. They made love rocking the bed so much that it moved several inches away from the wall.
“What was that?” Amelia asked out of breath when they had finished.
“I don’t know, but it was fantastic!”
“Spontaneous,” she said and kissed him. “You can wake me up like that every morning.”
“I’ll try.”
Dan put his feet on the cold wood floor and stretched – the euphoria of their lovemaking still pulsing through his body. He walked a short distance to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and waited for the water to get hot. As he washed, he thought about the data his equipment recorded yesterday. Who could have sent those pulses? And how did they do it? He knew the technology was progressing rapidly, but someone must have made a major breakthrough. There was nothing out there capable of bringing a plane down. It surpassed what Jerry was trying to do by a hundred fold. One thing was certain that whoever did it was doing it as a test for something bigger because it would take a lot of expensive equipment to pull it off.
Dan turned off the shower, grabbed a blue towel hanging on the rack nearby. The door opened and Amelia entered her eyes blinking, her walk like that of a drunk.
“That was something,” she said. “I can hardly walk. Make the coffee and get Kaileigh up. I’m going to be a while. I just got my period.”
“He bent over and kissed her on the neck – his six foot frame overwhelming her tiny petite figure.
He dressed quickly, got Kaileigh out of bed, and went downstairs to start a pot of coffee. He put six mini bagels in the toaster oven and then went outside and picked up that day’s newspaper lying in the driveway. He sat down at the round table in the breakfast nook and opened it to the technology section. Amelia and Kaileigh came down several minutes later.
“Are these bagels for us?” Amelia asked spotting the browning bagels in the toaster oven.
“Yep, for my princesses.”
“Wow! Look at this!” Dan yelled. “There was a break-in at Inviscom and they killed the IT manager. They must have been after something really big to go that far. This is the first time hackers killed someone to get what they wanted. Wow, this is really amazing! This has never happened before.”
“I don’t see what’s so amazing,” Amelia chimed in. “Information is just as important as money. Bank robbers kill bankers to get the money; hackers kill the IT guy to get information.”
“Yeah, but it’s never happened before. Hackers have never gone to such extremes to get into the networks. They even wounded a receptionist and a guard. They think the hackers were after the HLR database, but nothing was touched. If they did get it, everyone’s cell phone could be compromised.”
“Don’t we use them?”
“Yeah, we do,” Dan said. “Hmmm…if they erased the HLR or blocked it, no one could make a phone call. This is really something. And look, the article is in the back of the section. I think they are downplaying it.”
“Why would they do that?” Amelia said pouring black coffee into a white mug from the hotel they stayed in last summer at Myrtle Beach.
“Because they don’t want everyone panicking.”
“No, I mean shut off everyone’s cell phone. Why would they want to do that?”
“Extortion. They can hold the carriers hostage and demand any amount of money they wanted. Can you imagine if no one’s cell phone worked? It would be catastrophic! I still think they downplayed it.”
“You’re such the conspiracy freak! They didn’t get the H-whatever, so it’s not an important story,” Amelia added. “But I love my conspiracy junkie!”
“Yeah, but they killed a person and wounded two others. It’s just like an armed robbery,” Dan said taking a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, it’s terrible, but they don’t report every armed robbery and murder nationally.”
“I think this is going to wake up a lot of people.”
Chapter 5
Monday, May 19, 2008
An hour later, Dan was driving on Interstate 540 to his job at NovaCom, a small startup specializing in the development and marketing of emerging technologies. Its founder and president, Adam Sayer, a graduate of Duke University, saw a need to harness many of the new emerging technologies and apply them to practical, everyday needs. One such application was a text-to-speech feature that connected to a Bluetooth-enabled cell phone. With voice commands, one could retrieve their emails via the cell phone and have them read over the car’s stereo speakers. Sayer approached General Motors with the idea, and GM agreed to integrate the device in all their 2010 Cadillac models provided the company could develop a reverse application – speech to text – so one could respond to their emails by just speaking. The contract launched his company and Business Week considered Sayer one of the high tech whiz kids of 2006.
Dan had just entered his cubicle when the phone came to life.
“Hello. This is Riker.”
“Hello Dan. This is Michelle in reception. I have a gentleman here from the power company who wants to see you.”
“What? The power company? That’s weird. Tell him I paid my bill. What does he want?”
Michelle laughed.
“He wants to talk with you,” Michelle said smiling. “He said it's important.”
When he entered the lobby a disheveled man got up from his seat and approached Michelle’s desk.
e
“Hello, Dan,” she said. “This is the man from the power company. I’m sorry, your name was?”
“Lloyd Dobbs,” the man said and extended his hand to Dan.
The man’s hand was limp and it made Dan nervous.
“I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier and make an appointment, but you were highly recommended by John Bastille,” Dobbs said and tucked the front of his wrinkled white shirt into his slacks as if he were suddenly embarrassed of it. “Sorry, if I look like a mess. I’ve been at the plant since yesterday trying to figure out this blackout.”
Dan chose a small conference room nearby with glass partitions so that passing coworkers could see him and Dobbs. Dobbs placed a thick, three-ringed binder on the table and opened it to where he had placed a sticky note. He slid his hand across his forehead as if to move imaginary hair out of his small, dark eyes.
“I really appreciate you meeting with me. John Bastille suggested that I talk to you.”
“Oh. How is John? The last I heard he was up for a director's position.”
“He's my boss,” Dobbs added. “Actually, he called me on his vacation he thought this was so important. He asked me to talk to you about yesterday’s blackout. He couldn't figure it out and said if anyone knew, you would. He said you were the best RF engineer in the state.”
“Well, thanks. I didn’t think I was so highly regarded. So, what do you have?” Dan said a bit more relaxed.
“Minutes before the blackout, our security servers recorded this data,” Dobbs explained turning the binder around so Dan could read the pages.
“We first thought that the blackout was caused by a virus, but we later saw from the logs that a large program was downloaded into the SCADA systems. It made the computers think there was an overload and our failsafe controls automatically disconnected the generators from the grid. The result is a blackout. You can see right here when the program entered our system,” Dobbs moved closer to Dan and pointed to the middle of the page. “Do you remember that massive blackout in New York a few years back? Well, the same thing happened again.”
“I thought they fixed that problem.”
“They fixed what caused it, but the failsafe systems are still in use,” Dobbs explained. “This was just another event that caused a blackout.”
Dan saw the log entry recorded at 12 noon.
“Is this for real?” Dan asked. “There is nothing that can move data at that speed.”
“We're still trying to figure out how the hacker got in,” Dobbs explained.
“What do you mean? Didn't they get in from the Internet?” Dan countered.
“Look again at the entry. It's as if the program just materialized inside the computers. There's no comm port, printer port, or Internet gateway breached. We think it was sent wirelessly.”
“Sixty four gigabytes downloaded in less than eight seconds over the air! How could that be?” Dan said frustrated. “That would be like downloading roughly sixteen full length movies?”
“We don't know,” Dobbs added. “We do know the program got into our computers, installed itself, bypassed the virus scanning programs, and then caused the shutdown.”
“How did you get the power back on?”
“We have a set of backup computers not connected to the Internet and blocked off from any radio transmissions. We were able to put the generators back on line with them. That's why we think the hacker got in wirelessly,” Dobbs explained.
“Because there’s no indication that the hackers got in through the Internet?”
“Correct.”
Is your network wireless?” Dan asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure there are no wireless devices connected to your network?”
“Positive.”
“What’s SCADA?” Dan asked.
“Supervisory Control and Data Acquisition system. It runs everything.”
“And it’s connected to the Internet?”
“Yeah. It allows our techies to monitor the system from almost anywhere. Corporate can see a snapshot of the system and how it is running. I can check the system from my home twenty four seven,” Dobbs explained.
“That’s one of your problems. It’s your biggest security risk. You just told me that you got the power back on with a system not connected to the Internet.”
“You’re right and we’ve been begging management for the security upgrades, but it’s not in the budget,” Dobbs explained.
“I’ll bet it’s in the budget now.”
“I hope so.”
Dan turned the pages in the binder.
“I think it was an inside job. I think they altered your computers so they could receive a wireless transmission. I recorded a huge transmission at my house yesterday morning around the same time,” Dan explained. “I'm not sure if they are related, but the transmission carried a lot of data and had less power than a cell phone. I'm thinking this is the same one, an ultra wide band transmission.”
“I’m not following you. Ultra wide band? What’s that?” Dobbs said wringing his hands like a worried old woman.
“It’s a wireless technology developed in the sixties by the military. The military likes it because it is immune to eavesdropping, interference, and jamming. Ground penetrating radar and submarines use it because it travels through anything…water, walls, concrete, buildings. That’s why I think a transmission hit your computers,” Dan explained.
“Is it being used now?” Dobbs asked.
“Only for communications, voice – not for data. It’s still being developed, but I’ve heard some companies have sent data at speeds up to four gigabits per second in the lab. That’s why whoever did this is way ahead of the curve.”
“Well, this is beyond anything I have to deal with. We’re still trying to get Congress to give us money for more armed guards at the plants. Did you say you have equipment that recorded the same transmission? Do you have the log files? Can I get a copy?” Dobbs asked. “I can give it to our IT department. Maybe, they’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, sure. It'll take me a few minutes to log into my computers at home and get the files. Let's walk over to my cube.”
Dan got up and Dobbs followed. They passed Todd Harris, a lanky software engineer with short red hair and freckles.
“Hey Dan, Adam is looking for you.”
“Thanks Todd,” Dan said. He turned towards Dobbs. “My boss is always looking for me.”
“I can see why.”
Dobbs looked at the posters Dan had hung inside the small space.
“You’re a Hurricane's fan,” Dobbs said.
“Sort of. I got two caniacs on each side of me. It's really hard not to get caught up in it when they’re hooting and hollering all the time. You can’t get any work done during the season. I just follow the scores,” Dan explained. “Never been to a game.”
“That’s too bad. You should go sometime. They are really a lot of fun. I like the Penguins myself.”
“You’re from Pittsburgh?”
“Yep. Born and raised. We have a good team this year and I think we got a good shot at the cup.”
Several minutes later Dan walked to the printer and retrieved the report. Dan handed Dobbs the pile of papers and Dobbs briefly looked at the 5-page document.
“Thanks for your help,” Dobbs said standing up and extending his hand to Dan.
This time Dobb’s hand was firm and his eyes clear and focused. Dan was relieved.
“You're welcome. If you need anything else, just call,” Dan said turning to grab one of his business cards from a plastic holder on his desk. “Do you have a card?”
“Yeah, I do,” Dobbs said reaching into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. He pulled out a bulging, worn black wallet. He searched around in the torn folds and worn sleeves pulling one out. The card was wrinkled and dirty like the wallet.
Chapter 6
Monday, May 19, 2008
Dan went back to his cube to read emails. Most were responses to email he sent yesterday or a few days ago. He was bored. He thought of Amelia’s statement about his fear of conflict and thought he did ok with Lloyd Dobbs, although it wasn’t a conflict. At first, he thought it would be and was nervous to meet the man. It seemed his little idiosyncrasy came up a lot lately and perhaps it was time to deal with it once and for all. He thought about it deep and hard as he stared into nothingness, but found no epiphany. One thing he did know was that he didn’t like his particular weakness.
“There you are.” A familiar voice chimed in.
“Hi Adam. What's up,” Dan said turning to face his boss, a transplanted Irishman from Philadelphia with red hair and flushed freckled skin.
“Wait until you see this,” Adam said with a smile that seemed to take up the width of his small round head. He placed a white box about half of the size of shoebox next to Dan's computer. Dan took the lid off and looked inside.
“Yuk,” Dan said shaking his head. “Are they going back to making the ugliest phones on the planet again? That may have worked in the 1990s, but today everybody wants a phone that looks cool. It has no design at all. Are they trying to win the ugliest phone on the planet award? What the heck is it?”
Adam laughed. “It’s one of the first UWB prototypes. They didn't use a designer. They just put together a case that would fit all the components. The cool design will come later. They need to test the technology first before they put a ton of money into the design.”
“Ultra wide band? But there are no cellular networks for it. How are we going to test it?”
“There will be in this building. One was installed over the weekend and should be working this week. There are also test networks in Washington and in Asheville,” Adam explained. “You will probably be going there and I want you to make sure the phone works as it’s supposed to. I've sent you the specs.”
Dan pressed the on button and the phone came to life.
“Hey, it works.”
“Of course it works. Get me a prelim report in about three weeks,” Adam said. “I’ll let you know when you’re going to Washington and Asheville.”
“Thanks,” Dan said staring into the color display of the phone and pushing the buttons. Dan moved into the menus and flipped through the pictures folder. The images were as clear and detailed as a miniature high definition TV.
***
When Dan opened the fire door to the parking lot, the sun splashed in providing a refreshing change from the white constant light from the long overhead fluorescents. Large fluffy clouds hovered above - the edges glistened by the high sun providing a sharp contrast in the clear cyan sky. Dan walked over to the weathered picnic table on the other side of the parking lot and sat down. No one was there as he un-wrapped the tuna fish sandwich he made that morning.
Dan was about to take his first bite when the fire door swung open and two men dressed in dark business suits rushed out looking in all directions. Dan put his sandwich down and watched the men hurry across the parking lot. “Oh, shit!” Dan thought. They were heading towards him.
“Are you Dan Riker?” the man with the pockmarked face asked.
“Ah…yeah,” Dan replied, looking over the two men. Amelia’s comments earlier about his fear of confrontation came to mind and he swallowed.
“I'm Agent Ken Merritt and this is Agent Larry Coughlin. We're from the CIA Raleigh office.” The two men produced small black billfolds and thrust them into Dan's face.
“How do I know these IDs are real?” Dan asked feeling the power of his confidence growing. “Anyone can print them these days…you could have picked them up from Kinko’s ten minutes ago.”
The two men dug into their jacket pockets and handed Dan a business card. Dan stared at the CIA seal, which was the original sign from the agency’s first office on E Street in Washington, DC.
“Okay, now I'm convinced,” he said a smirk growing on his face.
“Lloyd Dobbs from the power company said you may know something about the blackout,” Merritt said moving his hand over his buzz cut. His tiny, beady eyes seemed to pierce right though Dan.
“He didn’t waste any time did he?” Dan said staring back at Merritt just as intensely.
“He said something about radio transmissions,” Merritt said.
Dan raised his eyes. “What did he say?”
“That some kind of transmission caused the blackout.”
“It's not possible with the current technology, but who knows.”
“Would you be willing to help us?” Merritt asked.
“And do what?”
“Determine the cause,” Coughlin said in a tone that sent a chill over Dan’s scalp.
“I would have to see the computers at the power station.”
Coughlin reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. Dan instinctively jerked backwards.
“It’s only a cell phone,” Coughlin said laughing.
Dan sunk lower on the bench.
“Excuse us,” Merritt said and both men walked away. Coughlin ran a hand through his black hair, down along the back of his thick neck as he talked. A few minutes later they returned with their usual deadpan, emotionless faces.
“Can you go now?”
“Now? I don’t know. I don’t think my boss would be too happy,” Dan said trepidation spreading through his body.
“We can take care of that,” Merritt said.
Merritt nodded at Coughlin and Coughlin went back into the building.
“Agent Coughlin will get it cleared with your boss. You can come with me,” Merritt said. “Leave your lunch. We'll buy you dinner later.”
“Dinner? How long is this going to take?” Dan protested.
“I don't know. It's up to you,” Merritt replied.
“I’m not sure about this,” Dan said his hands beginning to shake at the thought of leaving work.
“We’ll pay you for your time,” Merritt added.
“Oh,” Dan said and took two quick bites out of his sandwich and gathered it up with the rest of his lunch.
The two men went to Dan’s cube.
“Do you need anything from your office?” Merritt asked.
“Yeah, my laptop,” Dan said between chews.
“Okay, get it and let's get going.”
He looked over the top of the cube and saw Agent Coughlin talking with his boss. He was about to leave when he spotted the test phone his boss gave him earlier and quickly stuffed it into his pants pocket. They walked towards a forest green Ford Explorer with blackened windows.
“I thought you guys drove plain black sedans,” Dan said nervously.
“Not anymore,” Coughlin volunteered. “We need the four-wheel drive to go anywhere.”
“Makes sense,” Dan added.
Merritt opened the right rear door and Dan nestled into the beige leather seat. Coughlin took the driver's seat.
“So where are we going?” Dan asked a bit nervous. “Downtown?”
The agents laughed.
“You watch too much TV, Mr. Riker,” Coughlin said.
“Shearon Harris,” Merritt added.
“The nuclear generating plant! I thought we were going to the power company's office downtown,” Dan said.
“That's just a billing office,” Merritt added. “I should know I had to run a check there once when the post office lost our bill and they threatened to turn off my power. They should have real jobs.”
A half hour later, the three men arrived at the generating station. Dan got out of the SUV and stared at the giant cooling tower belching out enormous white clouds of pure white steam. The steam rose up hundreds of feet above the tower and melted into the crystal blue Carolina sky.
“Never seen one before?” Merritt asked.
“Only in pictures. I didn't think the tower was so big.”
“Me neither.”
The three men entered a one-story cement building without windows - one of the three control centers for the generating station. They walked down a long, well-lit hallway with dull gray walls and stopped at two brushed steel doors. Merritt leaned down to the left to three small slits in the wall similar to those on ticket booths in movie theaters.