Invisible Threads Page 7
Time to deliver the goods.
I took two brand-new, 3-terabyte external drives and separated the contents of each flash drive into their own folders. The encrypted flash drive had a large single-file container, so it was easy enough to copy over. I then encrypted the entire thing with a thirty-digit password, a new set of freeware designed for this very purpose. I let the encryption run, as it would take hours to finish, so I leaned back with my hands behind my head, drifting in thought. These copies were my insurance, but I also wanted to keep a copy of this particular data trove for later.
I had been on an interesting road these past months. Nightmares had come and gone without revealing much more, but they brought a nagging feeling that memories wanted to spring forth. I couldn’t force anything and generally let my subconscious do whatever it wanted, hoping my memory would return in its own time. My dreams held no other clues I could extract: no discernible accents; no mention of locations, such as cities or countries; and no insignias or other observable information.
Trying for the hundredth time to put together pieces that didn’t seem to fit, I could not determine the larger picture. My dreams (or memories) had been in a lab, involving a fire-fight and some explosions. Something had slammed into my head—most likely a glass container connected to something called a nanoprinter, and it shattered at the same moment every time. I awoke in the hospital with glass fragments in my head and nasty burns, which lined up with that memory.
Frustrated, I got up and decided to sleep, since morning wasn’t far away, and encrypting the drives would take a few hours at least. I had created two copies: one for me as insurance, which would go into a safety deposit box, and each client’s drive was encrypted with a different password. The other copy I’d keep here, letting the one in the safety deposit box operate as a backup to the backup. I kept the passwords on my laptop, which was protected in much the same way. I used extra-long, encrypted passwords so that even if all computers on the planet worked together to break them, it would still take thousands of years, perhaps even trillions, to figure it out. At least this would be the case until quantum computing became more widespread, but then quantum encryption would be designed and used.
Before letting myself climb into bed, I took the original flash drives and other items from tonight’s exploits and put them into a labeled pouch. I then went into my closet, shut the door, and started the process of opening my safe. It was custom built, weighed well over 2,000 pounds, and had a few different combined security features. The keypad alone required a twenty-key alphanumeric code and the full-handprint scanner tracked both the handprint and the person’s stress level and would reject entry if the user was under duress. I’d never tested that feature and, hopefully, wouldn’t ever need to.
Next, both the handprint and keypad were designed to shut down input unless there were no breaks in the electronic eyes hidden in the casing on the sides of the keypad, as well as in sections of the closet itself. Basically, you had to press the buttons, but if your hand or body crossed the barriers in either the closet or keypad, it wouldn’t work. So, unless you happened to be invisible, that was super complicated. To top it all off, the keypad had to be touched by a physical human, not a glove or anything inorganic. Obviously, that made entry even more difficult; since it was a custom system, no one would know the specific, inherent mechanics.
Most of my cash, at this point, had gone into setting up this safe, costing me about $500,000. I was now starting to make more money, and it felt great. I opened the safe and rotated an internal cradle to find an empty bin and slid the pouch inside. Now I could actually sleep.
The same dreams came again, and, as they sometimes did, they were alive with reds everywhere. The signs, the equipment, the guns—everything had a reddish tint or red highlighting—as if someone wanted to recolor my memories. As I drifted back into consciousness, I noticed it was quite bright outside, and my clock read 1:00 p.m. I sighed. Okay, time to check on the drives, drop backup copies off at the bank, and tell Matroni the job was finished.
As I entered my office room and logged into the laptop, both drives had finished encrypting without trouble. I labeled both as P.M. for Peter Matroni and stuffed each into separate pouches. I connected to the Tor network again, opening up a chat program designed to work specifically with the relayed routing system. It would cycle through reconnecting to a different part of the world every few minutes to create even a larger layer of protection against tracking, waiting for a partner’s ID to come online. After a few moments, I saw the message alert:
PeterM: I’ve setup the chat account as asked. Please respond when you have an update.
PeterM: Holy crap, was that you causing trouble at the club? If not then there may be a problem. Incident occurred, items may be missing.
I typed back, noticing the message was from six hours earlier:
Ghost: Job completed, time to meet.
I swapped the pouch with the backup drive for the originals and put some dark clothes into a bag in case I needed them. I preferred not to meet clients a second time if it could be helped. So far that worked well. The drive encryption on my backups was extra insurance for both parties in case anything was intercepted and my security was compromised. After a shower I noticed I had a response. Good, that meant I was being taken seriously.
PeterM: How do I know you’re not messing with me?
Ghost: What items would you like to see a quick preview of?
PeterM: There was info on a local project.
Ghost: The IASP.
I knew it was the acronym for the Institute for the Advancement of Science and Prosperity.
PeterM: You’re serious! How do we proceed?
Ghost: I will contact soon with more details. Have the money ready.
I needed somewhere more secure than an abandoned house, and I had a pretty good idea about what to do. I signed out of the chat, packed the laptop into my backpack, as well, and then headed to the bank, where I put the second copy of the drive into a safety deposit box, along with the cash from the Incite safe. Next, I picked up two prepaid anonymous phones with cash and drove to the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. After parking in the long-term lot, I made my way to baggage claim. I charged both phones while I made my plans, pulling out the laptop and connecting to the local airport Wi-Fi to check arrival times and which time would be busy, but not incredibly so.
I updated each phone with the contact information of the other once the activation process finished, then tested the text messaging between each to verify they worked. I set my own phone to vibrate, turned up the volume on the other as loud as possible, and set it to a custom ringtone. I connected the laptop back to the Tor network and pulled up the chat program while it connected.
PeterM: Money in hand, ready to finish this.
Ahh good, a most welcome message, ready and waiting for me.
Ghost: Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International. Be there precisely at 6:20 p.m., baggage claim, stand by the pillar near section 1A. More instructions to follow. Bring only one guard, no more, or we will have a problem.
PeterM: Very well, 6:20 p.m. How will I find you?
Ghost: Just be there.
I put the laptop into sleep mode and tucked it back into the backpack. Both phones were fully charged, so I disconnected and stuck each one in a separate pocket, marking the one set to vibrate mode to keep for myself. I had a few hours to kill, so I visited a restaurant up in the main area of the airport. Closer to 6:00 p.m., I headed back toward the baggage claim area and stopped in the bathroom along the way. I removed the pouch with the original drives and documents, took a deep breath, and got ready. No one else was in the bathroom, so I shielded and exited.
Once in the baggage claim area, I saw it was 5:56 p.m., and Pete Matroni was already there with a briefcase, looking annoyed while hanging with his back to the wall, which gave him a better view of the room. I watched carefully and saw the same bodyguard as before; no one else in the area tri
ggered an alert for me. I should’ve gotten down there sooner, but such is life. This side of the baggage claim wasn’t crowded, however I still had to be careful not to bump into anyone.
I made my way around to Matroni and quietly slid one of the cell phones onto a ledge beside him. I backed up a little and watched the pickup area for incoming luggage. Perfect timing. The conveyor unit started turning to get ready for an incoming flight.
I took out the other phone and texted the one I’d placed near Matroni. It suddenly started playing music behind him as he and the bodyguard both jumped.
“What the…?”
“Sir, I think you should answer that. It’s Nine Inch Nails ringtone from their Ghost album,” the bodyguard said.
“Blasted ingrate and his sense of humor.” Matroni opened the phone and saw the text waiting message.
G: Hello. Place the briefcase on the carousal.
PM: Do you have my stuff?
G: Yes. Place the briefcase on the carousal.
He sighed and handed the case to his bodyguard. “Put it on the carousal, but watch closely.”
The guard nodded and placed it on the unit, watching it go around. No one was standing very near, so it was easy to see if anyone picked it up. But I wasn’t just anyone, I was special. I stepped around the few folks close by and waited until the briefcase was just out of his line of sight. I grabbed it and pulled it under my shield. The bodyguard watched for a few moments as the conveyor unit continued to spin, but the briefcase was gone. I quickly wove my way among the crowd and to a wall Matroni couldn’t see; the phone start buzzing. I smirked, knowing he was freaking out a bit, even though I couldn’t see the guard’s reaction to the missing case.
PM: Someone just took it, that’d better be you!
G: Patience. Just a moment.
I carefully opened the case, and there were, indeed, stacks of money; everything seemed to be in order. I thumbed through a few, and nothing looked fake or like an attempt to cheat me, so I was satisfied. I closed it, crept back over to Matroni’s feet, lightly placed the pouch there, and backed away.
Before I was even five feet away, the bodyguard noticed the pouch and immediately pushed Matroni out of the way in case it was a bomb. I was impressed by his quick thinking, although Pete was annoyed. His guard opened the pouch, looked inside quickly, and handed it to Matroni. I texted back:
G: You will find the contents undisturbed. The briefcase looks to be in order.
PM: Is this everything, or are you even more paranoid than already?
G: Not paranoid enough. Business conducted and finished. I’ll fully verify cash and as long as you delivered then I suppose were friends for life.
PM: And if there’s a problem?
G: Now would be the time to fix it. Otherwise we wouldn’t be friends anymore.
He looked irritated, but recognized the papers as legitimate. Matroni shrugged, and even though he seemed aggravated that he could not get a leg up on me, he motioned at his bodyguard and they left.
I made my way back to the bathroom, careful not to bump into anyone along the way. Once inside a stall, I unshielded, opened the briefcase, and made a quick count of the cash. It was all there—$150,000 stuffed nicely in rows. I took everything out and placed it into the backpack, looking through each stack for transmitters. Satisfied, I left the briefcase after wiping it down to remove fingerprints. I dumped the phone and battery in the trash after also wiping them down. I then exited while unshielded to head to my car and call it a day.
Chapter 12
PM: Contents were as promised, except you encrypted one of the drives. You may be crazy, but you sure as heck deliver. Well worth the price aside from this but I need to decrypt.
G: I know. The money was fine, and I always deliver. If a drive is encrypted then it was that way when retrieved, not from something I did. Pleasure doing business.
That was all I heard from Matroni, but more than I expected. He got what he wanted, and I knew he wouldn’t want to take the chance of insulting me. Leaving items at his feet, unnoticed, sure scared him though, as it was meant to. If any tech issues were encountered, he would use his own people, not wanting to involve me further, which was another benefit of completing jobs in mysterious ways and situations.
I logged out of the laptop and then took a walk to do some shopping. I finally had a large chunk of cash. With no more security to upgrade on the safe, I bought new shoes, clothes, and an expensive updated phone through Silent Circle, a security-conscious brand. It was capable of encrypted calls right out of the box, especially protecting call data made to other phones using their services. I installed Orbot, the mobile version of Tor, so I could use the phone for protected chatting, while remaining anonymous. I figured it was time to reach out to a few people whom I owed a lot.
Sam I Am: Janet, this is Sam. I wanted to say hi and let you know I got a more permanent phone. I am well.
A few minutes later I got a reply.
Janet Spiringo: SAM! I am glad you are well, I haven’t heard from you in a while.
Sam I Am: I am sorry, it’s been busy and crazy but things are doing better. I just wanted to say hi and let you know I appreciate all your help. Gotta run! But I will be in touch soon
Janet Spiringo: You better, Sherlock!
I laughed at the reference to my awkward moments coming out of a coma. Shutting off my phone and traveling to a gift shop, I bought two small bears, two letters and envelopes. I wrote both Janet and Marcy a letter, thanking them again for helping when I came out of the coma, and slipped $2,000 into each envelope. I packed each bear into their own wrapping paper, drove to the hospital, and dropped them off at the coma ward. Neither were working at this hour, so perfect timing. I knew they’d be taken care of, so I headed home.
While on my way, I bounced through the radio channels and came across something interesting: “In other local news, the Institute for the Advancement of Science and Prosperity has announced that some administrative changes have helped to kick-start their AI research division and develop nanobot applications for the human body. Construction agreements should be settled soon and should start building a new facility. The project should help bring jobs to the area as they move forward, as well as new funding and partners…”
Well, that’s interesting. I continued home, while contemplating nano technology, nanoprinters, AI research, and whatever hidden secrets I had just given to Matroni. The copied disks, however, were mine. After all, I wasn’t completely stupid. Usually. I was most certainly mischievous though: I almost bought a black 1982 Trans Am and mounted a bar on top of the front bumper with a roving red light to drive around while invisible. Like I said, almost, but figured a driverless Knight Rider car would attract too much attention, namely the police.
The only address I had for IASP was the building site for their new location, which might end up being a good place to bury my body. It could also be an easy place to play hide-and-seek, if required. My thoughts kept revolving back to this location, as it was the only place I may be able to get some answers at this point. And I could be invisible, so why not exercise that ability? Grabbing a shower and some food left me refreshed, so I decided on an impromptu excursion to this address. Navigating minimal traffic, I approached the GPS destination without incident.
I scoped out the area, which had nowhere to park and no clear line of approach without being spotted; I could see why it was a good location. I drove on for about two miles, then pulled off into a bar’s lot and parked among other patrons. The sun was getting lower in the sky as I removed all forms of identification, anything that could possibly indicate who I was, except for the phone, and locked it all in the vehicle. The phone was encrypted and password protected so at least that was safe, depending on how intensely someone wanted into it. The encryption wasn’t as strong as my laptop’s, but the phone didn’t hold the same amount of sensitive data either. Its usefulness for taking pictures was worth it.
Once out of the car, I walked around
the side of the bar to ensure no one was around. I shielded and hid my car keys under some debris, stepped back to the road, and jogged toward the construction site. I got about a mile before the headache hit me full force. It had been a while, but I had never pushed myself this hard for so long, so I suppose it was to be expected. I slowed down to a walk and looked behind me, seeing a small dust cloud kicked up from my shoes disturbing the ground along the dirty side street. Probably needed to slow down anyway, since in about half a mile I’d be visible from the dust cloud alone. As long as no cars were coming, I stayed on the pavement, speeding up only as the headache would let me. I had to watch for drivers since I could see them, but not the other way around. It wouldn’t help to get run over at full speed by someone who had no idea they were about to hit an object. Once I was in view of the property, I stopped and observed the surroundings.
The construction area was large, a good half mile across and surrounded by high fencing. There was an obvious entrance with a guard shack, and the rest of the perimeter was astonishingly well enclosed from what I could see. The normal entrance would probably be my only way in, although I wouldn’t announce myself.
I glanced at my partially shielded phone and to ensure it was on vibrate mode. It was 9:30 p.m. on a dark night. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath out of habit, though I could still see with transparent eyelids. I felt more human by doing so, but now was the time to take a closer look.
Was it time for war…or time for business? For sure, I would soon find out.
Chapter 13
I made my way to the entrance to scout around before deciding the best way to progress. As I got closer to the guard shack, I noticed it wasn’t any mamby-pamby guardhouse, but a heavily armed station. This site must be pretty important, and not just for construction. Perhaps due to the expensive nature of the project, but regardless of the reason, I had to be more careful than usual.