Jack sat at his coffee table with his laptop open and several notebooks out in front of him. He had spent the last forty-five minutes writing down every username that corresponded with Vadim Rechkov in the cached version of the subreddit regarding the Baltic conflict. He then looked down at the database and saw there were eighty-nine names.
Jack rubbed his eyes and flipped back to the original list.
Eighty-eight names.
One user had removed his post or posts. It took just a couple minutes’ more work to find out the disappearing username was that of someone called 5Megachopper5. Quickly, Jack left his database lists and went back to the page that had the archived discussion on the Baltic conflict, so he could see exactly what this user had contributed to the original subreddit.
But to Jack’s frustration, 5Megachopper5 had posted only once. Under one of Rechkov’s long diatribes threatening death and destruction to the crew of the James Greer, this mystery user had posted the most simple of messages:
PM sent
“Private message sent,” Jack said aloud. It was a notice that 5Megachopper5 had sent a private message to TheSlavnyKid’s personal Reddit inbox.
Shit, thought Ryan. That’s not much to go on.
He then looked up 5Megachopper5’s Reddit overview on the archived site.
The username had been created the day of the posting on the Baltic Conflict subreddit, and the username had been deactivated the same day.
Jack knew for certain there was something nefarious to this Megachopper, but he had no idea how he and Gavin would find out who Megachopper was.
He grabbed his phone off his coffee table and pushed a speed-dial number.
After a few rings Gavin answered, and Jack could tell the man was tired, but still working. “Biery.”
“Hey, Gav. It’s past your bedtime.”
“I’m knocking off here in a second. What about you?”
“Same here. In the meantime, though, I found that one private message was sent from a Reddit user to Rechkov. The next day, the user deleted his one post and closed his account.”
“Suspicious. So you want to know how we can read that PM?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t get to it . . . but I know someone who can.”
“Really? Who?”
“You didn’t hear it from me, but NSA’s got a back door.”
“How do you know that?”
“Somebody told me, but I didn’t hear it from them. I’m going to have to kiss a lot of ass to get him to dig around for us, but like I said earlier, he owes me a favor.”
“Right. Well . . . if we can get an idea if the person with the username 5Megachopper5 is the same person who gave intel to Vadim Rechkov, that sure as hell would push us along in our quest to find out who is responsible for the breach.”
Gavin wrote down the username. “I’ll reach out. Might take a little time to get a response. NSA is up to their eyeballs, as you can imagine.”
“Thanks. Get some sleep.”
“You too, Ryan. See ya in the a.m.”
Jack crawled up onto his couch and soon fell asleep, but only after telling himself that when he woke up in a few hours, he would continue his side project of figuring out just how, exactly, his unknown subject targeted all the victims. And then, when Jack finally did have some direction to look in, he would use his newfound knowledge of identity intelligence to target the man who was responsible for all the death and destruction taking place.
44
The black SUV pulled up in front of the office of Advanced Research Technological Designs in Bucharest at ten a.m. Four men climbed out, and Alexandru Dalca, who was looking down from his office window four stories above, saw exactly what he’d expected. They were all East Asian. They wore black business suits and moved with purpose and confidence.
These were Chinese spooks, Dalca felt sure.
And this was a problem, since Dalca had been pilfering the information the Chinese spooks had hired his company to steal, and then selling the material to various bad actors around the world, including the Islamic State.
Yes, Dalca knew he might very well be in some serious trouble. All he could do was hope they were here for some other objective, and he had to be prepared to talk his way through any problems if his initial concerns about the reason for today’s meeting proved accurate.
Five minutes later Dalca was dressed in his best sport coat, and he walked into the conference room with as much confidence as he could muster. His seat was across the table from the Seychelles Group members, down at the end of the row of a half-dozen ARTD senior staff. Dragomir Vasilescu was there, as well as the technology director of ARTD, Albert Cojocaru. As the chief researcher, Dalca was at the far end of the table, even though he was the only one of the three with intimate knowledge of the work that had been done on the files for the Chinese. Still, he was the lowest-ranking ARTD employee in the room, so he wasn’t even introduced as he entered.
Dragomir Vasilescu spent a few minutes thanking the guests for coming and for being a valued account here at ARTD, and then he read through some stats Dalca and Cojocaru had prepared for today’s meeting: the man-hours that went into the original “acquisition” of the data from India, and other resources used in the project. There were a lot of euphemisms involved in this type of talk: Just as ARTD was a technology firm and not a hacking concern, and just as the Seychelles Group was a private business and not a front for Chinese spies, so went the discussion of what ARTD had done on behalf of China. They hadn’t stolen files, they had “acquired data” from the United States via an Indian security firm. They had “exfiltrated targeted documents” instead of digging through the files to root out those who might be involved with China, and they had “identified key personalities” instead of betraying the doomed men and women to the Ministry of State Security.
Dragomir Vasilescu and Albert Cojocaru were both very proud of the work that their company had provided for the client, and it showed on their faces. Dalca’s expression appeared similarly pleased, but he was the one ARTD employee in the room who sensed that a trap was about to be sprung by the four stone-faced men across the table.
When the presentation was finished, Cojocaru offered to take the men on a tour of the location, but the head of the Chinese delegation, Mr. Peng, waved a hand in the air like he couldn’t possibly care less about ARTD’s workspaces and computer server stacks.
Peng said, “We have come a very long way to speak with you, for this reason. We want to be assured that the data we have requested, the data we have paid well for you to keep absolutely secure, is being maintained with the strictest integrity.”
Dalca could see that Drago hadn’t the faintest idea what the Chinese man was getting at. No realization that the recent attacks against America could possibly be coming out of the very material ARTD took from the OPM files on behalf of the MSS.
Dalca adopted a similar look of confusion at the man’s insinuation, but in his mind dark clouds formed. Shit, he thought. He was right.
They were here because they suspected.
Dragomir, on the other hand, ignorant of what was going on, had no worries in the world. He said, “Certainly it is. Our sensitive information is kept on special machines that have no connection whatsoever to the outside world. The material we acquired on your behalf resides here in the building and nowhere else.” He held up a hand. “Other than in its original location in the United States, I mean.”
Albert Cojocaru added, “And the initial acquisition took place leaving no ability for the Americans to ever discover anything was amiss.”
Albert beamed with pride. Dalca tried not to roll his eyes. Albert was the chief hacker, a tech who lived in cyberspace, and he had no clue of the shit storm that these thugs would rain down on this building if Dalca himself didn’t convince them their concerns were unfounded.
Peng conferred with h
is men in Mandarin for a moment. The Romanians just sat there.
Peng next looked at Vasilescu. “The person in charge of obtaining the files?”
Dragomir slapped Albert on the back. “The best in the business, I can tell you that. Albert Cojocaru here. He and his team created the intrusion system that was used to pull the data off the server in Bangalore, India, where it had been residing untouched for the past four years. He did a great job.”
Albert chimed in. “If you would like a layman’s explanation of the process, just in case you had other needs in the future you might want us to handle, I would be happy to—”
Albert shut up when Peng raised his hand.
The Chinese man said, “As far as the person here in your office in charge of linking the raw data to the committers of illegal espionage activities in the People’s Republic of China. Who is that?”
Dragomir Vasilescu pointed down to the end of the table with a proud nod. “My other best man. Alexandru Dalca here. The top of the industry, and my number-one secret weapon here at ARTD. I personally placed him as the lead researcher on your project. He took all the raw files, millions and millions, as you know, and used his own handmade software to identify those files that met your criteria. He looked for men and women who had studied Asian languages, focused on particular course work in school, had relevant military or civilian experience in their past, or already had associations with men and women in China. From there he still had thousands to go through by hand before he personally—”
Dalca knew he had to short-circuit Dragomir before he made it look like Dalca was the only guy in the building with the skills to turn the American files into targeting data.
He quickly interrupted his boss. “Thank you, Mr. Vasilescu, for making it look like I alone could possibly do all this.” He smiled sincerely at the four dour men facing him. “The truth is, gentlemen, I am very fortunate to be in charge of a large team of men and women who work exclusively on your project, and have done so from the start. While I originally created and optimized the software that is used to manage all this data efficiently, I do not personally extract the raw data and convert it to the actionable product distributed to you. Instead, I oversee a team of eager young men and women who do. They work so hard, and are so adept at what they do. I honestly couldn’t be more proud of all the work they put into this project.”
The Asians nodded a little.
Good, Dalca thought. He made the right assurances to the Chinese that their data wasn’t being exploited for the gain of others, while simultaneously hinting that others were involved in the work on the data, distancing himself from the material they clearly feared might have been compromised.
Through his peripheral vision, Dalca could see Albert and Dragomir looking his way now. Dalca was usually the first to take credit for something, to leverage a success for his own benefit. Of course these two would be confused that he was deferring praise onto his underlings. Both men knew how many hours Dalca worked on the Seychelles Group project, and both men would find it strange that he was minimizing his role.
Still, it was less important to Dalca that his coworkers were confused by his actions and more important that the scary guys on the opposite side of the table didn’t suspect him of implicating the People’s Republic of China in violent attacks on one of the most powerful nations on earth, the United States.
Those four guys would kill him if they thought for a second he had stolen the files to stuff his own bank account.
For the next ten minutes the Chinese asked more questions about the data, how it was extracted, and how it was turned into intelligence product. They were genuinely impressed with the use of open-source intelligence to derive the identities of America’s spies and agents, Dalca saw.
But the focus was no longer on Dalca, and this pleased him. Every time he would explain something about how “his staff” came to their conclusions about the American spies and agents working in China, the Chinese would listen and then direct their next question to Dragomir.
Dalca understood what was going on. These guys were Chinese intelligence, but they were just like most Chinese corporate types Dalca had dealt with in his career. They would respect titles, authority. While Alex Dalca was the only man in the room who truly knew what the hell was going on with the Seychelles Group’s contract, he was a senior researcher, whereas Vasilescu was the CEO of the company. All their attention and respect would go to him.
And that was just fine with Alexandru Dalca.
Finally, Dragomir said what both he and Albert had been wondering for the length of the conversation. “I am sorry, gentlemen. How can we help you?”
Mr. Peng and his men talked a moment, then he said, “We see the items you have given to us, and we watch with great concern some actions that have taken place of late involving American intelligence. Our concern is that perhaps some of the mass data you extracted for us has, instead, fallen into other hands. This puts our . . . our company, at great risk of being implicated in actions we played no part in.”
Vasilescu said, “Honestly, I haven’t been keeping up with the news in America, I’ve just seen a little about what’s happened. But I can assure you that only people who have been authorized to view the files have done so, and that will continue to be the case.”
Vasilescu held his hands up flat on the table. “I can guarantee that your data is yours alone. No one else has gained access to it.”
Peng said, “You misinterpret my concern. I will speak with more clarity. I am not worried that you have been hacked, Mr. Vasilescu, I am worried you are double-crossing us and using this material for your own profit.”
Vasilescu sat back in his chair. “Now . . . wait a moment. That is an outrageous charge.”
Peng asked, “How did those men on camels in the deserts of Iraq track down these American spies inside of America?”
Dalca butted in again. “You are talking about the attacks by the Muslim terrorists in America?” After nodding thoughtfully, as if considering the validity of the connection the Seychelles Group men had made, he said, “I see your concern, although I can assure you the source used by these jihadists is completely different from the source at our disposal. I was watching news of the attacks just the other day, wasn’t I, Mr. Vasilescu? As a specialist in research and investigations, I have a personal interest in how people obtain and use information, no matter what the reason. From what I have seen of what’s going on in America, someone has absolute, up-to-the-minute intelligence they are leveraging against these soldiers.” He smiled. “The information I have been using is many years old, as you know.”
Peng said, “But yet your company somehow managed to take this old information and tell us exactly where a person in China is now, and what their position is.”
Dalca made a pained face, as if he hated to argue with a client. “Well . . . we provide only where they are in general. We might tell you that Mr. X is working in the American consulate in Shanghai as a commerce specialist in the durable-goods sector, and living in an apartment on a specific street. But the intelligence from America that the Islamic State possesses is sending terrorists to particular coffee shops, to specific rented vehicles driving to known locations, at certain times.” Dalca shrugged apologetically now. “Not in our abilities with the data we are using. Somehow these Muslim terrorists must have people inside the American government.”
Peng and his men conferred again. Finally he said, “We remain concerned. Were it to come to the attention of the Americans that this breach took place, regardless of whether or not this breach was responsible for the recent actions, the authorities would look carefully at you . . . and at us. This we cannot allow to happen.”
Dragomir Vasilescu said, “How can we prove your information is secure?”
Peng did not answer. Dalca felt himself relax a little. These guys were just here to put terror in the hearts of the Romanians
, to warn them to be careful with the data. Sure, if Dalca had incriminated himself they would have upped their measures, but he’d given them nothing but assurances, so they would just threaten a bit more and leave. They might not be convinced the ISIS intel had not come from ARTD, but they would have no evidence to support the possibility.
Dalca pressed his luck. “If I might make a suggestion: The raw files are housed on a single air-gapped computer. As per your original request, there are no copies, and the files have not been uploaded so that they can be pulled by multiple machines. The machine holding the data is here in the building. Once the data was uploaded onto the computer, it was erased from the transferring machine, and that hard drive was destroyed off-site so there would be no evidence of it. The machine holding the records has had all its external ports physically disabled. There is no way to upload or download to the machine. You can’t even print off records.
“If it would make you more comfortable, you can take the material with you, keep it safe, until all this in America blows over. Obviously it will mean the end of the work we do for the time being, but you would be sure that the data was not being misused.”
Dragomir Vasilescu was confused by the odd suggestion by Dalca, but in truth it was an empty suggestion. These guys didn’t want to touch the material on that computer, and Dalca knew it. Other than the conclusions made by ARTD and then sent on to them, they wouldn’t go near it.
Peng just shook his head, as Dalca had suspected he would all along.
Now Peng and his three henchmen looked menacingly at Vasilescu. “We have people in our technical research division who will study what happened to the Americans. If we find any connection between your breach of their network via India and the new threats taking place in the United States right now, we will be back, and we will hold you responsible.”
The men from the Seychelles Group left twenty minutes later.
Dragomir Vasilescu turned to Alexandru Dalca in the lobby as soon as they were gone. “Those guys are lunatics. They think we are working with fucking terrorists.”