“But I need you to promise me that you will keep this between us.” Grace continued.
“Grace, I can’t make that promise. You know that.” He removed his hand from her shoulder, and stepped back.
“Look Connor, I don’t care about procedure or policy or any of that crap. I need your help, Connor, but I need you to be on my side.” She pleaded with him. He considered her for a minute, before he finally nodded his acknowledgement.
“You promise?” She asked. Again he nodded, and reached to touch her hand.
“I will help you.” He said with conviction. Grace took another deep breath, and as she slowly exhaled, accessed both the coded and the decoded version of the incriminating message that she had found on Mason’s slate. With one last moment of hesitation, she sent them to Connor.
“I’ve just sent you two messages.”
“Got them.” A moment passed as he reviewed the information. “I don’t understand.”
“The first is a coded message. The second is the same message decoded.” He reread the decoded message. ONCE THE DEVICES ARE IN PLACE, WAIT UNTIL HE HAS ARRIVED AND YOU ARE SURE THAT HE IS WELL INSIDE THE BUILDING BEFORE DETONATION. YOU ONLY HAVE ONE SHOT AT THIS. DO NOT SCREW IT UP.
“Where did these come from.”
“The decoded one, from me, once I figured out the coding. The coded message came from Mason.”
“Are you certain?” Connor asked Grace. She nodded.
“I found it in the sent folder of his messaging app on his slate.”
“How did you decode it?”
“Trial and error.”
“Well you did a good job of that. Looks like it was ROT13 encoding.”
“Whatever that is. I felt compelled to do it. It was just so strange to find something like that. I don’t know what I was really looking for. Something to explain his behavior, I guess, but I never thought I’d find something like this.”
“Grace...did you notice the time stamp on the coded message.? This was sent just an hour before the bombing of Mr. Malek’s hotel.” She nodded. “Do you think it may be possible that someone else sent it?”
“I don’t see how. I had to practically break into the room where he keeps the slate.” She shook her head. “No, I just don’t see how. It had to be Mason.”
“And there was nothing else?” He asked. She shook her head.
“Nothing. I went completely through the file system, and nothing else seemed odd.”
“No hidden files?”
“Hidden?” She considered his question. “Not that I am aware of...but if they were hidden, I wouldn’t have seen them would I?” He studied her.
“Good point.” He finally replied.
“So what do we do now?”
“I’ll send this to my boss, and let him take it from there.”
“No!” She exclaimed. “You can’t!”
“But Grace, I have to. This is evidence in a felony terrorist attack. I can’t just sweep it under the rug.”
“No, no, no! This is just between us.”
“Grace.”
“Don’t you Grace me. You said you would help me”
“But Grace-”
“But Grace, my ass. You promised me!” He stared at her in shock. He considered the predicament.
“Look. I have to pass this intel on, that is not an option, but-” She started to interrupt him again, but he waved his hand at her to stop. “As I was saying, but...I can sit on it for now, for a little while at least, while we figure this out.” She looked at him, amazed.
“So you’ll help?” She asked, in near disbelief. He nodded. “So what’s next?”
“I want to get a look at that slate.” Together they turned towards the blank vid screen. He reached over and activated it. The pre-debate show had already started, as the candidates made their last minute final preparations. “As long as he is on that screen, he won’t be walking through that door.” Connor said. She nodded her agreement and visibly relaxed. Soon, the announcer finally indicated the debate was about to begin. He introduced Bazir first, and Grace had a hard time believing that this was not a normal live broadcast. He appeared to be on stage, solid and real, though she knew it was a holographic projection. The announcer then introduced Mason. As soon as the camera cut to his image behind the podium on stage, Connor spoke up.
“Let’s go. Where’s that slate?” He asked. He followed her into the bedroom where she retrieved the keycard, and then followed her to the office, where she unlocked the door. Inside the lights came on, and she reached for the desktop, and paused. The slate was not there.
“Oh, crap.” She said. “It’s not here!”
“Calm down. It has to be here somewhere.” Connor said reassuringly. She franticly began to try and open the desk drawers. They were locked.
“Shit!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.
“Deep breath.” He said. She tried to break free.
“We don’t have time for-”
“Grace. Look at me.” He said quietly. She still fought him. “Grace.” She stopped, panting slightly. “Are you with me?” He asked. Still panting, she nodded, her eyes wide. “We have plenty of time.” She shook her head. “Repeat after me...we have plenty of time.” She started to shake her head again. “Grace?” She nodded.
“We have plenty of time.” She repeated. Her breathing began to calm, as she gained control over her anxiety.
“You okay?” He asked, his hands still on her shoulders.
“Yeah...sorry about that.” She relaxed, and he released her.
“Okay, so it’s not where you expected it, but it is here somewhere.”
“It’s probably in one the drawers, but they’re locked.”
“And you don’t happen to have the key, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“First things first. Do you see anywhere else in here where it might be hidden?” They both scanned the room, and quickly surmised that there was no other hiding place besides in the desk.
“It’s got to be in one of those drawers.” Grace said. Connor nodded, as he bent down to inspect the lock. After a quick look, he could tell that there was in fact a single lock that secured all of the drawers. It appeared to be an old fashioned mechanical key lock.
“Wow. I didn’t think they even made those any more.”
“What now?” Grace asked.
“I guess we pick the lock.”
“And you’ve done this how many times?”
“What? Picked a lock?” He asked. She nodded. “Well never actually.”
“Exactly.” She said. He ran into the kitchenette looking for something to use to pick the lock. She ran into the bedroom looking for the same. Moments later they returned, he with an ice pick, and her with a bobby pin. “Okay, have at it.” He selected the pin from her hand, and bent over the lock. Slowly he inserted the ice pick into the opening, and then followed it with the bobby pin. Carefully he began to jiggle it back and forth. She stepped out of the office and took a quick glance at the vid screen. Bazir was speaking. She came back, and noticed that Connor had reversed the position of the ice pick and the bobby pin, and was still wiggling them back and forth.
“It was never this hard way back on those 2d movies.” he said. He patiently worked at the lock for nearly an hour, with no success.
“We’re running out of time. Do you want me to try?” She asked nervously.
“Why not. Give it a shot. We’ve got another thirty minutes before you have to head up to the broadcast suite.” Instead of bending over, she opted to sit down on the floor to get closer access to the lock. She scooted forward to get closer when she suddenly stopped.
“What?” He asked as a sly smile crossed her face. She ducked her head under the desk and reached far into the back. “What is it?” He asked again. Suddenly she reappeared, slate in hand.
“Not IN the desk...under the desk.” she said. It was on a small ledge back there.” They both let out a sigh of relief, and carried the slate
to the table in the kitchenette. He activated the device, and looked up at her when it asked for a password.
“Tell me you know the password.” He said expectantly.
“I do. Auschwitz.”
“Auschwitz? You mean that’s what you were trying to do the other day? Hack his password?” She nodded. “Grace...I am amazed by you.” He typed in the password, and the main screen came into view.
“So where would hidden files be?” She asked.
“Why, hidden, of course. Okay, here’s what we’ll do.” He began to quickly maneuver through the menus. “First let’s go to settings, then check out storage. Okay here it says total capacity is one hundred terabytes. There, it says usage is sixty two terabytes, so that should leave what...thirty eight terabytes left, right?”
“Right. But that grid says there is only thirty six terabytes unused. We’re missing...two terabytes! Where are they?”
“Hidden. So what we’ve just learned is that there is no doubt that there are hidden files on this slate.”
“But how do we find them?” She asked, once again the frustration had begun to seep back into her voice. He pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster. Grace instinctively stepped back, hands raised ready to defend herself.
“Whoa.” Connor said, remembering the altercation they had had when he had first met her. “Take it easy.” He released the clip from his gun, and laid the weapon aside. Near the base of the clip, he slid a small recessed switch to one side, and a small square black object popped out into his hand.
“With this.” He activated the wireless tool feature in the setting of the slate, and a scanning indicator popped up. A second later it had wirelessly located the tiny device, and Connor synched them together.
“What is that?” She asked.
“Top secret.” She watched in amazement as he quickly accessed the files system, and right in the main directory was a folder that appeared to be a slightly different color than the others. He tapped into that folder, and began to browse the subfolders. “There’s a ton of stuff in here.” He said.
“Can we copy it?”
“Already in progress.”
“Where to?”
“That.” He said pointing to the tiny black square. He continued to scan through the folders while the copying was in progress. He opened one folder at random, and quickly ran through the files. Picking one at random he opened it. They both scanned the document.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Looks like legal statutes. Chapters dealing with the implementation martial law.”
“Martial law?” He closed that document and opened another at random.
“Moody AFB, Patrick AFB, Maxwell AFB...and the others. These are Air Force Bases. Why would he have a list of Air Force Bases? They’ve all been closed for years.” Connor said as he closed that document and opened another.
“What is it?” Grace asked as Connor continued to scan the document.
“Do you remember the relocation camps, during World War II. The ones the U.S. set up to house the Japanese-American population?”
“The U.S. did that? On their own soil?” He nodded.
“This looks like a report prepared for President Truman. Suggestions on how the process could have been better implemented for a more efficient completion.” He closed that document and went on to another.
“Dr. Temple Grandin. Who’s that.” Grace asked.
“I don’t know. Never heard of her.” Grace queried the name. The results came back instantly.
“Dr. Mary Temple Grandin. Born 1947. American Professor of Animal Science. It says that she was instrumental in changing the way that slaughter houses-”
“Slaughter houses?”
“Yes. Slaughter houses. Like for cattle. She changed the way they were designed. Something about curving the routes the cattle would take so that the individual animals could not see very far ahead of them. According to this article, keeping the animals calm and oblivious to their final destination, allowed for a more efficient process, allowing processors to dramatically increase their throughput.”
“That’s pretty much what I’m reading here. And there are even references to studies here about using sound barriers, sound misdirection, and scent agents to keep the cattle in the chutes from learning that the animals ahead were being killed at the end of the chute.”
“But what has that got to do with the rest of this?” She asked.
Chapter 22