Wired. Part 22

"Do you remember what happened?" asked Connelly.

"Good question," said Griffin, tilting his head for several long seconds. "I remember what I accomplished," he said finally. "I only have the vaguest idea how." He held out his hands in wonder. "I was like a hotrodding G.o.d," he said in awe. "What I was able to do in an hour, I couldn't do normally if I was given a thousand years."

Griffin continued to take inventory of the past hour and a guilty expression came over his face. "I was a bit of an a.s.shole, wasn't I?"

"I wouldn't say that at all," said Desh. "You were a total a.s.shole." He grinned. "But don't worry about it. Your work was phenomenal."

Griffin turned to Kira and shook his head in wonder. "That's quite a treatment you've got there," he said admiringly. Still facing her, he let out a heavy sigh and the smile retreated from his face. "Got anything to eat?" he asked eagerly.

43.

Matt Griffin quickly proceeded to devour four bagels and then started in on a large bag of corn chips Kira had given him. Desh released the giant from his bonds while crumbs rained onto his head at a steady pace.

Once Griffin had been restored to full freedom, the entire group gathered around him as best they could in the tight s.p.a.ce. "My superhuman alter ego may not win any Miss Congeniality awards," he said, "but he sure was a G.o.d of the cyber domain. Allow me to demonstrate." Griffin hit a few keys and a satellite photo came up on one of the monitors. It showed a central residence and two small, red barns, contained within the expansive grounds. The house was nestled among several mature trees. About thirty yards from the house a number of tiny horses could be identified milling about inside a fenced-in area about the size of a football field.

"This is the Sam Putnam residence," explained Griffin.

"He lives on a farm?" said Kira in surprise.

"A small one," said Griffin. "And he doesn't actually farm anything. But he does have eight horses and two barns."

"A perfect layout for him," noted Desh. "It lets him be isolated from near neighbors without seeming to be a recluse. He's just a rugged outdoorsman. And while the farm must have been expensive, it isn't showy enough to make anyone wonder how he could afford it."

"And the isolation leaves open numerous options for security," added Metzger.

"Where is it?" asked Kira.

Griffin worked the mouse and zoomed out, showing the scene from a far higher alt.i.tude. Putnam's farm disappeared. As if by magic, a map with borders and place names was overlaid onto the satellite image. Griffin pointed at the center of the screen. "Putnam lives here," he said. "In Severn Maryland."

The town was directly between Washington to the southwest and Baltimore to the northeast. It was at most fifteen minutes away from NSA headquarters at Fort Meade.

While the group studied the map, Griffin pulled up a page of information about the town and left it on the adjacent monitor. Severn had been a small rural town for most of its existence, but in the past several decades it had seen explosive growth given its proximity to D.C. and Baltimore and the growth of the government, including the NSA. While much of the town was originally zoned as rural farmland, the vast majority of land had now be rezoned for residential purposes. Putnam owned one of the few remaining properties that could be designated as a farm.

Griffin changed the view of Putnam's property, zooming in to give the view from about a hundred feet overhead. "He has enough video cameras blanketing the property that there are virtually no blind spots. They all feed into two separate banks of monitors, one bank inside his bedroom and the other," he said, pointing to the barn that was the farthest from the residence, "inside here."

Griffin moved the view a few hundred yards from the residence and zoomed in until a relatively una.s.suming fence came into view. "This is a chain-link fence, ten feet high, completely encircling the periphery of the property," he announced. "It looks innocent enougha"almost inviting. No razor wire, no electricity. But don't be fooled. It has vibration sensors. Try to climb over it or cut through it and your exact location is revealed."

Griffin showed a closer view of the main dwelling. "There's a microwave perimeter exactly twenty feet out from the house. Break the beam and once again Putnam will know about it." He raised his eyebrows. "Presupposing you could get over the first fence without any alarms going off, and he didn't see you on the monitors."

"How do you know all this?" asked Metzger.

"He has a very advanced system," explained Griffin. "He has a computer devoted just to home security, and this is tied into the Internet. That way, anyone with the proper codes can check all of the video feeds and security monitors from any computer."

"And you hacked into this computer?" said Kira.

"Yes. And reprogrammed it while I was inside," said Griffin proudly. "For the next twenty-four hours the system will ignore certain inputs. Cut through the fence and break the microwave barrier and the system won't notice. The video monitors are set to show the same benign view of the estate on a continual basis."

Desh scratched his head. "It doesn't make sense to have a security system online that's vulnerable to what you just did," he said.

"I agree," said Griffin. "But it isn't vulnerable. A top-drawer hacker could hack into the system and identify what security safeguards are in place. But anyone skilled at storming this kind of heavily protected castle could do that in other ways. But reprogramming it the way I did simply isn't possible with normal human faculties. Trust me on this one."

"Did you get anything useful from his personal computer?" asked Kira eagerly. "Anything that might give us a lead to the sterilization plot?"

Griffin frowned. "No. He didn't have any computers online during the time I was altered. I suspect he only allows an online connection to be active when he's using it, and then physically disrupts the connection when he isn't."

This was a bad break, thought Desh. But all things considered, Griffin had accomplished more than Desh could ever have hoped for.

"Let's get back to Putnam's security," said Desh. "Are you telling us that we can just waltz in there undetected for the next twenty-four hours?"

"Almost," said Griffin. He worked the mouse and different views of Putnam's property came into view, one of which showed a tiny human figure. He zoomed in closer and a man came into focus wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a cowboy hat. He was putting out hay for the horses. He wasn't wearing a jacket, which meant the footage Griffin had tapped into was probably several months out of date.

"Security information from the monitors and alarms is fed to two men," said Griffin as he zoomed in tight on the man's waist, revealing an automatic weapon and walkie-talkie. "He's one of them."

"Interesting," said Metzger. "This guy's cowboyed up so most people will take him as a farmhand."

"He doubles as a farmhand from the look of it," commented Connelly.

"You said two men," said Desh. "Where is the other one?"

"The security computer logs indicate that one of the men is almost always in the barn, manning the monitors."

"Won't the guard in the barn realize something is wrong when his colleague fails to show up on the monitors?" asked Desh.

Griffin grinned broadly. "When Kira makes you smart, she makes you prodigiously smart," he said happily. "I took this into account. I only altered the outer cameras, focusing on the chain-link fence and the grounds beyond the outer barn. He'll be able to see his friend, all right," he said happily. "But not anyone sneaking up on him from the outer perimeter."

Desh nodded approvingly. "Anything else we should know?" he asked.

Griffin considered. "I don't think so," he replied. "An alarm would normally go off if the house was breached in any way, but my modifications won't allow this to happen." He eyed Desh. "Unfortunately, I can't program these two guys to ignore you," he said.

Desh didn't appear concerned about this in the least. "You've done great, Matt," he said warmly. "With no alarms or video of our approach, they shouldn't be much trouble."

"So what's the plan?" asked the major.

All eyes turned to Desh. Even though he was no longer in the militarya"and even if he was both Connelly and Metzger would have outranked hima"everyone knew this was his show.

"I don't think confronting Putnam right now buys us much," began Desh. "Capture, followed by torture, might be an option at some point, but I wouldn't suggest it as a first move." He paused. "Comments? Disagreements?"

There was silence for several long moments, but no one objected.

"When do you think capturing Putnam would be the right move?" asked Connelly.

"When we've tried all other avenues," said Desh. "As a last resort. And just after he's reset Kira's implant." He paused. "Putnam's probably been conditioned to withstand truth drugs. But given twelve hours we might be able to persuade him, in ways he wouldn't find pleasant, to stop his viral attack and give us the code to disarm the device in Kira's head."

"But then again, we might not," noted Metzger.

"Right," said Desh. "That's why we should try other approaches first."

"I a.s.sume we start with his house," said Metzger.

Desh nodded. "It'd be a shame not to after super-Matt here went to all the trouble to make it easy for us. I propose we wait for Putnam to leave for work and then break in. That will probably give us a good eight hours to search his house, and for Matt to have quality time with his computer. The goals will be twofold: one, learn anything we can about Putnam's connection to terrorists and how to stop his plan from succeeding. Two, try to find out anything we can about the device in Kira's skull and how to disarm it."

Desh surveyed the group, looking each member of the team firmly in the eye. Each nodded in turn.

"Sounds like a plan," said Kira supportively.

Desh looked at his watch. He was exhausted, as they all were, but they wouldn't have the luxury of rest for a long time yet. A stanza from a favorite Robert Frost poem drifted across his consciousness: The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Desh sighed and turned toward Griffin. Time to figure out just how many additional miles were in their immediate futures. "Matt, can you pull up directions to Severn and get a distance."

Griffin's fingers flew over the keyboard and fifteen seconds later a map was on the monitor with the driving path outlined by a bold line. "Seventy-five miles," he announced.

Desh locked his eyes onto Kira. "Kira, we need to get moving. Can you disconnect us from the trailer park cable and gas lines, and do whatever else needs to be done for us to hit the road."

Kira nodded. "We'll be ready to roll in five minutes," she said.

44.

It was already a quarter to eight before Kira's forty-foot behemoth pulled off onto an old dirt road a few hundred yards from the outer perimeter of Putnam's property. Desh and Metzger jumped out of the vehicle immediately and fanned out in opposite directions, each carrying a pair of green binoculars, rubberized for shock resistance. During the trip each had donned a.s.sault vests and were armed to the teeth. The entire team now wore walkie-talkie earpieces with wires that disappeared beneath their shirts. Kira, who had taught herself how to handle a weapon, was armed with a familiar Glock 9-millimeter pistol while Griffin, given his complete lack of experience, remained unarmed.

Desh and Metzger had only been in place for a few minutes when a large black Cadillac pulled onto the road nearest to Putnam's spread. The car's windows weren't tinted, probably once again to prevent any raised eyebrows in the neighborhood, but Desh knew a heavily armored car when he saw one and this one was armored to the gillsa"more tank than car.

Desh carefully turned a dial on the binoculars and focused in on the driver. Bingo! It was Sam. Samuel Frank Putnam in the flesh. They had been lucky. If they had arrived even five minutes later they would have missed his departure.

Within minutes the car was out of sight, heading in the opposite direction from where they were stationed, toward Fort Meade. Desh signaled to Metzger and they both returned to Kira's motor home.

"Showtime," announced Desh to the group. He handed Metzger and Griffin a gellcap from the stainless steel bottle Kira had given him. "Put these in your pockets," he instructed. "Use them only in an absolute emergency." He held the pill bottle out to Kira. "Kira?" he said.

She shook her head. "No thanks," she said with a sigh. "Just kicked the habit."

Desh and Metzger strapped rucksacks on their backs that had been stuffed full of gear during the drive to Putnam's farm.

The colonel had gotten another hour of concentrated sleep while they drove, but was now fully awake. Desh had insisted that he stay behind to man the RV and to guard their flank.

Desh turned to the major, who was waiting for him. "Go with Matt and Kira and take up a concealed position just outside the chain-link fence," he instructed. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Metzger looked puzzled but didn't question Desh's order. He took a last glance at Desh and Connelly and exited the vehicle with the two civilians in tow. They arrived at the outer perimeter of the property and waited behind a group of trees for Desh to join them. Five minutes later he arrived.

"What was that all about?" Kira whispered to Desh.

"I needed to be sure the colonel was all right," he whispered back, "and to bury the pill canister away from the RV. Just in case."

Desh pulled a pair of wire cutters from one of many pockets in his vest. After a few minutes of snipping links he carefully removed a three-foot square section of the fence, hoping that the transformed Matt Griffin was as good as he thought and the vibration alarm really had been rendered impotent.

They each scurried through the hole in the fence and advanced, crouching low to the ground until they came to another grouping of trees, which the entire team knelt behind. Desh removed his rucksack and propped it behind one of the trees, along with his submachine gun. Metzger held his MP-5 at the ready to protect Kira and Griffin while Desh peered around a tree with binoculars.

He scanned the area for several minutes. Finally, turning back to the others he mouthed, "Back in five minutes," and then, pulling a tranquilizer gun from his vest, he stole away without a sound. The team had agreed they would only use lethal force on Putnam's security people as a last resort. While this was being decided, Desh had an odd feeling that he was forgetting something important about the events at the safe house, but try as he might he couldn't put his finger on what this might be.

Desh had waited until the roving security guard had moved well out of sight of his planned approach to the outer barn. The guard was still dressed as a farmhand, although his clothing was considerably warmer than it had been in the satellite photos. He and his colleague were probably quite competent, but they were overmatched by someone with Desh's training and field experience, and lulled into a false sense of security by their faith in the perimeter alarms.

Desh crept to the side of the outermost barn and peered inside. The second guard was seated with his back to him, at a large bank of twelve monitors, twenty yards away. Desh glided forward noiselessly with his gun extended, rapidly closing the distance between them. He was able to get to within five feet of the man before he began to spin around, startled. Desh shot him in the thigh and he slumped in his chair, unconscious.

Desh studied the monitors to confirm the other security guard hadn't moved from his position near the large horse pen, and plotted his approach. He exited the barn and circled around the property so he could come up behind the second guard. Once he had a bead on the man, he stalked him for several minutes, gradually working his way closer. He silently covered the last few feet and fired. This time the guard hadn't had any warning at all and melted to the ground as the tranquilizer took immediate effect.

Desh pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the area. Everything looked to be in order. He double-timed it to where Metzger could see him and signaled for the rest of the group to join him. Minutes later they were at the back of the house. Desh chose a suitable window and shattered it with the back of his submachine gun, using the weapon to quickly clear away the jagged gla.s.s remaining around the perimeter of the sill. All four intruders climbed through the window one at a time until they were all safely inside the residence.

45.

Putnam's house was large, about 5,000 square feet. The front door opened into a living room on the left and a gla.s.s enclosed study on the right. The kitchen was s.p.a.cious, with large stainless steel appliances, blue granite countertops, and a large cooking island in its center. The interior of the house was in direct contrast to its simple, rustic exterior, and managed to clash atrociously even with itself. While all of the furniture was a minimalist, ultra-modern steel, gla.s.s, and silver, the rest of the interior was reminiscent of a European palace, with crystal chandeliers and baroque oil paintings displayed in elaborate, carved wooden frames.

It was 8:30 and they still hadn't heard the three telltale tones that would tell them that Putnam had reset the device that threatened Kira Miller, providing a twelve-hour stay of execution. No one had brought it up, but it was weighing on all of their minds.

Griffin sat at the computer in Putnam's study and called up several screens. The rest of the team stood behind him, eagerly looking over his shoulder. "This might take a while," he said after a few minutes. "I have to break through security and then try to find a needle in a haystack. That's presupposing Putnam left any evidence on this computer in the first place." He sighed. "And I'll be trying this the old fashioned way. As much as I'd like to become a hotrodding G.o.d of a hacker again, I'm not sure I'm up to it yet. It takes a lot out of you."

"No question about it," said Desh.

"If I haven't made solid progress by one or two this afternoon," said Griffin earnestly, "I'll take another gellcap and go to town."

Desh nodded but wasn't certain he liked the idea. The antisocial effect was c.u.mulative and Griffin hadn't handled his altered state well the first time.

Griffin bent to work on the keyboard while the three armed members of the team conducted a systematic search of Putnam's home, looking for any clues or information that might prove useful. After forty minutes of searching, Desh activated the small microphone dangling from a cord running down his neck and checked in with Connelly in the RV. The colonel reported that all was well, and that he had not observed any suspicious activity in the vicinity.

Desh was searching through an upstairs room when Metzger's voice came through his earpiece. "David, meet me in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Something I want to show you."

"Roger that," he said.

Desh moved briskly and arrived at the bas.e.m.e.nt just ahead of Kira, who Metzger had also summoned. The room was nicely finished, including the ceiling and walls, and was carpeted. Metzger was standing next to a door in the far corner of the bas.e.m.e.nt. He motioned for Desh and Kira to join him as he opened the door and stepped through.

They entered a small, unfinished section of the bas.e.m.e.nt with its original concrete floor and walls. There was a sump hole in one corner and a water heater in another.

A large, square piece of plywood was standing up against the wall, about eight feet on a side. Metzger went to an edge and pushed. The plywood slid fairly readily across the smooth floor.