Firewall (13 page)

2:35 P.M. TUESDAY

Taryn mentally listed her priorities, and cowering to Brad Patterson missed the list. She had no intention of giving him any information until she had her hands on her iPhone.

When they found Murford, they’d find Zoey and be able to arrest the one who bombed the airport. She’d cooperate with the FBI, but not with a man who was loyal to Kinsley Stevens and wherever her ambitious greed had taken her.

She noted the men around the table
 
—Supervisory Special Agent Alan Preston, Grayson, Joe, and Brad Patterson.

“Mr. Patterson has serious concerns about your disabling Nehemiah,” the SSA said. “He claims the two companies that were using the software paid for a firewall protection program they cannot use. Obviously there are safety concerns in regulating temperature and pressure should a breach occur.”

“The reputation of Gated Labs is at stake.” Patterson’s face resembled granite.

“They are running an earlier version and are protected,” Taryn said. “I called them on Friday and enabled it to keep their infrastructure safe. When the FBI’s investigation is complete, I’ll gladly re-enable the software. Until then, the exposure is minimal.”

Patterson raised his fist. “I want it done now or I’m filing charges.”

“Go for it,” she said. “Won’t change my resolve.”

“This will be a civil discussion, Mr. Patterson,” the SSA said. “No threats or accusations, but an open discussion. National security, as well as your private interests, is at stake here.”

Patterson kept his gaze focused on Taryn. “Why are you taking this ridiculous stand? Don’t you know our customers are holding payment for services rendered in light of your actions?”

“Because Ethan and I suspected someone within Gated Labs was sabotaging the project.”

“Who?”

“I’m researching the matter. I think the person or persons could lead the FBI to whoever bombed the airport.”

“That’s ludicrous. Every employee must pass a rigid security screening,” Patterson said.

“Remember I developed the software for the screening, and I’ve never betrayed Gated Labs or revealed information, no matter how insignificant.”

“You expect me to believe you? I’ve heard other reports about your inappropriate conduct.”

She could guess who’d offered the inside scoop. “Have you opened Ethan’s computer files for his research?”

When Patterson didn’t comment, she knew the answer. Ethan had layers of protection in place, and it wouldn’t be a simple matter to retrieve his files. If she gave in to Patterson’s demands without removing the backdoor, then . . . “You understand what it means if the software gets into the wrong hands?”

Patterson huffed. “That’s what your paycheck and expertise covered.”

She focused on the SSA. “I’m against this, sir. Complying with Mr. Patterson’s request is like feeding into the bomber’s hand. I understand if you don’t see a connection, but I believe it’s there somewhere.”

“You’re lying. Miss Young, you’re fired.”

“Check your e-mail, Mr. Patterson. I sent you my resignation
an hour ago.” He probably had his niece on speed dial to take her place.

“I guarantee you won’t ever work in the software industry again.” Patterson whipped his attention to the SSA. His face was a sharp red contrast to his social facade. “How long until the matter is settled? I have assets to protect.”

“The process will take as long as it takes,” the SSA said
 
—the man who would arrest or recruit her. “Agents will follow you to your office to continue their investigation.”

“Is Taryn Young in custody or is she assisting the FBI?”

“The answer to your question hasn’t been determined. In any event, she needs rest and medical attention.”

“I have a dead VP and a developer who refuses to cooperate. I need answers soon or
 
—”

“Bad idea to threaten us,” the SSA said. “The FBI is in the business of solving horrendous crimes. We thrive on community support and what is best for the safety and well-being of the public. I’d think you’d want this resolved as efficiently as possible. The airport bombing was a message that we read as possibly more problems to come. We’re considering Nehemiah as part of the issue, and none of us want additional lives and property destroyed. Or do you?”

Patterson crossed his arms over his chest. “My lawyer will be notified of this. If we’re finished, I have work to do.”

“So do we. I’d like Kinsley Stevens and Haden Rollins brought in for subsequent interviews.”

Patterson stood and pounded his fist on the table. “How dare you implicate them simply because of Young’s professional rivalry. They were previously questioned by Agents Hall and Bradshaw.”

“Sit down, Mr. Patterson. Dramatics don’t work here either,” the SSA said. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Fine.” Patterson eased into his chair. “Investigate everyone at Gated Labs.”

The SSA gave him an emotionless stare, the same given to Taryn earlier. “We will. Thank you for your time.”

Once Patterson was escorted from the room, Taryn swung her gaze to Grayson. His eyes emitted respect, and he grinned ever so slightly. Her stomach did a flip, and the response frightened her. Not now. Not in the middle of this mess. Maybe never.

“I have a suggestion.” She directed her words at the SSA. “I’m sure you already have a list of prominent hackers, legal and illegal, but I’d like to give you my list of top people in that field. See if any of them are involved. If Murford is serious enough to kill for the software, then he might have engaged help.”

“I thought hackers were protective of their own.”

“They are. But this involves national security.”

“All right. We can compare lists.”

“I could contact a few to see if anyone’s looking for a hacker and offer my services as bait.” Taryn had to do something to stay busy. Without bidding, her mind drifted to the explosion and the carnage at the airport and the hideous moans of the injured and dying.

Claire.

Zoey.

All because of a software program designed to secure oil and gas companies’ rights to export natural gas? A program she’d disabled.

The world can be so ugly.

She sat upright in the hard chair. All this time, she’d been committed to protecting the Nehemiah Project. Now that she thought about it, the move was selfish. Kinsley and Haden wanted her job. Big deal. Had her stubbornness to be at the top in her field and her loyalty to Ethan gotten in the way?

What about the LNG companies? Since they were using an older version, hackers could access it more easily . . . and the companies had a historic launch on Friday. Shouldn’t she enable the software and at least do her share to keep lives and property safe?

She knew the answer. In the eyes of the world, she was a terrorist.

No more people would be hurt because of her.

Moistening her lips, she stared at the SSA. “Sir, I’ve decided it’s in the best interests of everyone for me to enable the Nehemiah Project. Do I have your permission to call Brad Patterson?”

3:24 P.M. TUESDAY

After Taryn had successfully installed Nehemiah and left the SSA’s office to compile a list of hackers, Grayson sat alone with Alan Preston.

“Sir, we have a mole,” Grayson said, broaching a subject sensitive to everyone at Houston’s headquarters.

The SSA pushed back from his desk. “I already know who you suspect. You two have never gotten along.” He frowned. “This had better be substantial.”

“It is. When I left the office to meet with Taryn, I didn’t tell anyone but you. Vince asked where I was going, and I said an errand. But first I had to check on something in the FIG. I left him standing in my doorway with my phone on the desk. When I returned, it had been moved. I didn’t think much about it then.”

“You’re sure?”

“I always note where I place things. Someone knew exactly where Taryn had gone. That’s a given. But someone followed me.”

“Are you saying it was Vince?”

“I checked the records, and he left here shortly after I did.”

“That’s not enough unless you have more.”

Grayson nodded. “When my car was retrieved, I asked the agent to bring me my phone. Found a bug.” Grayson pulled the small device from his pocket and laid it on the SSA’s desk. “It’s one of ours.”

The SSA examined it. “He’s at the top of our list.”

“Are you tailing him?”

He didn’t blink. “What do you think?”

Grayson had heard a few wild tales in the FBI, but this one
crept across his mind like a parasite. Now he had more reasons to despise the guy. “What clued you in?”

“His bank account.” Preston shuffled papers on his desk. “You weren’t the only agent to suspect a mole in this case. Vince was nowhere around when we received the call about your going rogue. The voice was disguised.”

“But you don’t have enough evidence to arrest him.”

“Right. That’s why Joe was brought in. The two used to work together.”

“So Joe’s aware?”

“Yes. Vince could lead us to whoever bombed the airport.”

3:45 P.M. TUESDAY

Taryn hit Send on the e-mail to a hacker who knew all the available illegal jobs. They’d corresponded in the past, and she’d gone to dinner with him at a Black Hat conference. A total narcissist. His arrogance and money controlled him, and he didn’t care who needed access to a site or about the possible grave repercussions. If anyone could point Taryn in the direction of who wanted to hack into Nehemiah, it was him. The man went by Save. Ironic, considering. She ensured her e-mail couldn’t be traced. Now to see if she received a job offer for her alias, Julie Harmon.

She reached inside her purse, where a picture of Zoey was tucked away. Claire had taken it at a nearby park in August, an early-morning shot when the sun seemed to kiss the earth. . . . That was Claire’s claim. Taryn swallowed a sob. Oh, how she missed her. She brushed her finger over the little girl’s dark curls, then buried her face in her hands.
My sweet girl, is someone taking good care of you? Are you hungry? I’d gladly trade places with you.
Her mind replayed scenes with Claire. Gone forever. Her thoughts dwelled on Zoey
 
—her first steps, her first words, and her adorable giggle. Taryn had to believe the FBI would find her, and she’d be okay.

Murford would not be so cruel as to extinguish the life of a child who had sat on his lap, would he? Kissed his cheek? But look what else he’d done. Reality left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Taryn clenched her fists. Hope would get her through this. Hope would build her future with Claire’s daughter. Hope would fuel the FBI and others to find answers.

How would she provide for herself and Zoey? Her reputation as a software developer had been destroyed. Who would ever trust her? The media had done a tremendous job of making Taryn look like America’s number one enemy. Unfortunately some journalists weren’t quick to admit when they were wrong, and their accusations would stay with her forever.

Taryn stretched. Buddy probably thought she’d deserted him. Before giving in to sleep, she’d visit the dog. Let him know she loved him, appreciated his friendship. She hoped he didn’t have an owner looking for him. She wanted the dog as her very own, and she didn’t care if her desires were selfish. He was an angel in disguise, a protector.

The condo charged an exorbitant pet fee for Bentley, and two pets would be like a chunk of the national debt. She blew out a frustrated breath. No problem since she had no intentions of living in the same complex after their high-tech security system allowed someone to demolish her home. Plus, she no longer had employment, although her savings account had six figures. Tomorrow she’d tackle keeping Buddy in dog food . . . and pray a job arrived when Zoey was found safe.

With her mind dull and her body aching, she focused on cracking Ethan’s password. Most likely a useless venture, because she and Ethan used to tease each other about the password choices of the public, who believed their files were safe. She already missed Ethan, his wit and wisdom, always challenging her to encrypt more layers into the development process.

“Protect the software” was his mantra. “Remember, the product is only as good as its developer.”

She longed to reach out to his wife and family, but the SSA had asked her to wait. Taryn understood, although she wanted to grieve with Ethan’s family. She paused and replayed one of her
conversations with Ethan about how people were victimized by identity theft.

“Taryn, what are people thinking when they toss out personal info as word choices? Then use the same password on everything they think is protected?” Ethan had said. “They’re asking for identity theft, and businesses aren’t much smarter.”

She’d agreed with him. “The ones who change their passwords daily are still heavy targets. Then there are the websites that will do it for them. The users follow a sequence as though hackers aren’t smart enough to figure it out.”

“How much effort do you put into your passwords?” Ethan’s eyes twinkled.

“A lot. Totally random. Different ones for different sites. What about you?”

“Something you’d never expect.”

“Try me,” she’d said.

“Like hiding in plain sight?”

Taryn massaged throbbing neck muscles. Had Ethan given her an indication of where his password was stored?

The agony in her body made it so difficult to concentrate on the many tasks before her. She craved sleep to heal and help her mind to function. But not yet. Ethan had gone to his grave with answers, and he must have recorded them where she could find them. Of course, she’d been the one to disable Nehemiah and keep the log-in credentials to herself. Tossing aside her own actions, she understood Ethan stored everything somewhere. His file would reveal findings about who was involved at Gated Labs.

Not to his wife and family.

Not to Brad Patterson or anyone on the team.

But the secret must be embedded in a file and possibly e-mails to her. She stared at the bottle of Tylenol 3 with codeine near the keyboard. Tempting. Instead she reached for a cup of coffee. Bad stuff
 
—reminded her of church coffee.

She searched webmail for all the correspondence Ethan had
sent for the past six months. This would take a while. She sorted them according to subject and then by date. The ones sent while he was in Mexico held her attention. Why hadn’t she done this first? She shook her head and rolled her shoulders in hopes of clearing her mind. She couldn’t give in yet. Her body had become an enemy dancing with time.

She read through Ethan’s e-mails, the ones she hadn’t seen before last weekend. She’d ignored e-mails after Friday. Not like her, but getting married was the most important commitment she’d ever made. She’d never dreamed life could be so perfect
 
—what a stupid dream. The last-minute preparations of packing for their honeymoon included finding nightwear that didn’t totally humiliate her, new perfume, an outfit to wear on the plane, a new bathing suit. Taryn’s throat constricted, and she reined in her emotions.

Many of the messages were a short phrase
 
—his preferred method of handling e-mail
 
—but when he needed to explain something, he’d detail it. She reread several until she saw one that had arrived early Saturday morning, long after she’d stopped checking:

Taryn,

Keep a heads-up on your suspicions. I’m doing a little digging here. Don’t like what I see.

Document everything. Protect your project at all costs, and keep me posted.

Ethan

Later on she had received another message. At the time it might have sounded like concern from a good friend.

Taryn,

Your wedding is tomorrow. I’ve got to be your big brother here. Have you thought about waiting? This is sudden. Is this guy good enough for you? If he hurts you, I’ll go after him myself.

I can’t connect all the dots at Gated Labs. I guess you didn’t make a decision about Nehemiah. We have to work together on this.

Ethan

Taryn,

Nehemiah dots are driving me crazy. The bugs that someone is planting threaten everything you and I have worked hard to accomplish. We tested for those things. My suspicions are playing out, and it’s bizarre.

I know who’s involved. Please send me any changes you’ve made to the project.

Ethan

Taryn,

My life’s in danger. Be careful. Good thing you’re leaving on your honeymoon. You’ll be safe. Forget what I said about waiting to get married.

We’ll talk when you get back.

Ethan

Taryn,

99% sure this is bigger than we thought. Get a burner phone and call me as soon as possible.

Every thirty days life changes.

Ethan

Three hours later, when she was supposedly Mrs. Francis Shepherd:

Taryn,

Francis Shepherd isn’t his real name. Please, don’t marry this guy. Call me.

I’m taking the first flight out of here in the morning.

Ethan

Tears dripped over her cheeks. She blamed her emotion on the grief of losing friends, the agonizing throb in her head, and the plethora of horrific occurrences over the past two days. Vince Bradshaw sat a few desks away from her, hunched over a computer, and she turned so he wouldn’t see her pitiful lack of control.

“Hey, lady, time to rest.” Joe’s soothing voice interrupted her thoughts.

She stood and fell into his arms and sobbed. Yes, it was weak and unlike her. Yes, she’d be embarrassed later. But she needed another human being. She had no idea how long she wept, but with a sense of embarrassment, she stepped back and swiped beneath her eyes.

“So many good people were killed,” she said. “I know none of it was my fault, but when so many believe it is . . . it’s hard.”

“We’ll find who’s responsible. Getting closer all the time.”

“And Zoey. She has to be all right.”

“We’ll keep praying for that little girl.”

“Thank you. Oh, Joe, I’m so worried about my mom. She must be miserable with all she’s heard from the media.”

“I’ll see if we can get a personal message to her. Lady, you need a bed and no one to interrupt you for at least eight hours.”

“Where could I go? Is there a cot here?”

“We have a couple of beds in the health services unit. A full-time nurse is there too. Round-the-clock protection. No one will bother you.”

“I just need a few hours.”

“Sure.”

“Can Buddy come with me?”

“Not so sure I can arrange that. The area’s not equipped for pets.”

“I understand. Will you wake me with any new information or if Zoey’s found?”

“Of course.”

Would he really? Maybe she was an irritant to the FBI. Maybe they didn’t need her skills at all.