No Way to Die (28 page)

“So,” Jennings said, “if Marlowe has decided to set up shop around here—”

“Then,” Hayes said, “I’d say we have an advantage that we’ve not possessed in the past. That is, we know he’s here and that he has yet to complete the mission that brought him here. Furthermore, he may not know that we’re onto him. If we’re able to take Marlowe into custody, Western civilization would sleep much easier. If they knew about it.”

“Good,” Jennings said, nodding. “Let’s come back to that in a second. Before we get into it, though, let’s make sure we understand why this is so important with regards to this particular case. Let’s talk about the downside if we don’t catch him.

“Aside from the fact that Marlowe is a thief, a traitor, and a murderer, there are some serious national security implications involved with the technology he’s trying to acquire—that is, the Starfire Protocol. It’s my very limited understanding that the Starfire Protocol could be quite destructive if it were to fall into the wrong hands, am I correct?” He looked at Freedman.

“I’m afraid the words ‘quite destructive’ vastly understate the potential implications of the Starfire Protocol unleashed on an unsuspecting public,” Freedman said somberly. “If the rumors we hear are correct—if, in fact, Thomas Rasmussen developed an algorithm to quickly factor RSA-generated private keys—then the implications are global, and they are immediate. Simply put, the current worldwide cryptographic standard using asymmetric key technology would be rendered obsolete overnight. The NSA has a very strong interest in making certain this does not happen. Make no mistake, ladies and gentlemen, this technology cannot—I repeat—
cannot
be allowed to escape the United States. Under no circumstances.”

“Agreed,” said Julia Harrison.” This genie needs to stay in its bottle.

“Actually, maybe someone ought to tell us what it is we’re actually talking about.”Marilyn Rodgers said. “Do we know what state it exists in now? Is it bigger than a bread box?”

“As presented to us in its export license application,” Kusler said, “it appears that Rasmussen’s company, Applied Cryptographic Solutions, has taken the Starfire Protocol algorithm, burned it onto a flash chip, and then installed the chip into a plastic case. The device connects to a computer with a standard USB cable. It also requires a separate USB key in order to function.”

“So you need both the box and the key?” Jennings asked.

“Yes,” Kusler said. “The application says a part of the actual algorithm is embedded into the key. The key is not just a simple on–off switch—it’s an integral part of the algorithm. The box will absolutely not work without the key, and vice versa.”

“That’s smart,” Jennings said. “Easier to control that way. How many boxes and keys exist? And do we know their whereabouts?”

The room was silent for a moment. “We’re told there were two boxes made, and one key,” I said.

“Do we know where they are?” Jennings said. “Are they in safe hands?”

“I believe one of the boxes is at ACS; the other box and the sole key was with Thomas Rasmussen.”

“Are they still?”

“As far as I know, ACS still has their copy of the box. Katherine Rasmussen, Thomas Rasmussen’s widow, engaged legal representation. She gave the box and the key to them for safekeeping. They, in turn, gave it to us for safekeeping. Both items are safe.”

“Good.”

“I’m afraid that the box that’s in the hands of ACS is not safe, though,” I added.

“How’s that?”

“A woman named Holly Kenworth—Thomas Rasmussen’s second in command—is the current manager of the business following Thomas’s death. We have reason to believe that she may be the victim of an extortion plot by Madoc, excuse me—Marlowe. They’ve apparently threatened to kill her and her brother if she does not cooperate with them.”

“Cooperate in what manner?” Jennings asked.

“I’m not certain,” I said. “But I can assume ‘cooperate’ means ‘do whatever they say.’ I know for a fact that she reported our first interview with her directly back to Marlowe. I’ve got this little reminder,” I pointed to the bandage on my head, “to show for it. They broke into our office very early Monday morning, apparently looking for the key. I walked in on them and surprised them. We had a little altercation that ended with me getting bopped in the head with a baseball bat and going to the hospital for a couple of days. I’d previously told Holly Kenworth that we had the owner’s box and key because I considered it a possibility that she might be in collusion with Marlowe and we wanted to draw attention away from Katherine Rasmussen.”

“It would appear as though it worked,” Jennings said. “You got their attention.”

I nodded. “We sure did.”

“So Marlowe potentially has a box, but no key,” Jennings said. “You are holding the other box and the only key. Marlowe is after the key so that he can be on his way. Does that sound about right?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Under no circumstances can he be allowed to get that key,” Freedman said to me. He turned to Jennings. “Ron, we’d feel a hell of a lot better if that key were in your control.”

“Why don’t you bring the key and the box in to us,” Jennings said.

Ooh.
This didn’t sit well with me. They might not want to give it back.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I said.

“Why not?”

“It’s not mine to give. If you can get hold of the owner and she authorizes it, I’ll be happy to give it to you. Or some sort of court order, that’d work, too. But until I get one of those two things, I have no authority to simply hand it over.”

Jennings stared at me. “You realize the key would be much safer with us.
You
would be much safer if we had the key.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “The key and me both would be safer with you if you let it be known that you had it. That would do it. But if that happened, Marlowe would simply pull up his tent stakes and vanish. The game would be over for him. And you don’t want that to happen—you want to bust him. So even if you did have the key, you’d need to keep its actual whereabouts quiet. For your purposes, Marlowe would need to continue to think
we
have the key. Otherwise, he’s out of here. So, with all that said, there’s no change in our risk profile.”

The room was silent for a second. “I’m not certain about the legalities involved, in any case,” Marilyn Rodgers said. “What do you propose then, Mr. Logan?”

I was thinking fast. “It should be pretty simple,” I said. “Let’s set up a swap. Marlowe wants the key. You want Marlowe. We have a meeting. You arrest him before the swap goes down and we never lose physical control of the key.”

“Why would you do this?” Jennings asked. “I mean, from Marlowe’s perspective, what’s in it for you? He won’t believe you just want to give it to him.”

I nodded. “That’s true. But what if Katherine Rasmussen offers to sell her 90 percent share of the business to him. According to Holly Kenworth, he’s apparently intending to use a provision of the LLC organization documents to attempt to buy her out anyway. This way, he’d own the Starfire Protocol boxes and the keys outright.”

“That would be the same as an illegal transfer of technology,” Kusler said. “The BIS would never approve that.”

“Well,” I said slowly, “we’re not actually going to go through with it, are we, Bob. We're just using it for bait, right?Besides, no offense, but there’s not much you have to say about it.”

“Excuse me? How’s that?” he asked, clearly surprised and a little miffed.

“If Katherine Rasmussen decided she wanted to sell to Marlowe—and trust me, she does not—then I think you can take it as a given that Marlowe would move really fast. By the time you ever found out about the sale, Marlowe would have closed office here, sold Starfire to the Chinese for fifty million dollars or so, and then would be kicking back at his Lake Como villa, watching the sunset and drinking a Bellini. You could jump up and down and be pissed, but the fact is, you wouldn’t have shit to say about the sale, pardon my language. Bottom line—you guys make rules for honest people to follow. You're telling me Marlowe’s killed people in the past—he clearly doesn’t fall into the ‘honest people’ camp. I don’t think he cares much if you approve of the sale or not.”

Kusler gave me a dirty look.

“I think Mr. Logan may be right,” said Jennings. “The laws are just an inconvenience for people like Marlowe—something he needs to work around. So Mr. Logan, you think Marlowe will bite at the chance to buy the key?”

“I do,” I said. “He might try to rip us off one way or another just because he seems to be that kind of guy. But I think he’d be intrigued. If you bust him right
after
the deal goes down, then you’ll have him on violation of all the laws you guys have on transfer of sensitive technology. Probably good for ten years or so in the federal lockup, right?”

Jennings nodded.

“And while Marlowe’s working his way through that mess,” Hayes said, “we’ll see if there’s not something we can add to the party as well. Make it more fun for all concerned.”

“When should this happen?” Marilyn Rodgers asked.

“I think it needs to happen right away,” I said. “Things are kind of dangling right now—they attacked me, they know I know it was them, and now we’re each sort of waiting for someone to make the next move. I think a phone contact by me to Marlowe today would not be something completely unexpected. It shouldn’t set them on edge any more than they probably already are. We can set something up for tomorrow.”

Jennings looked at Rodgers. She nodded. “We can be ready,” she said.

“Let’s plan it out then,” Jennings said.

* * * *

Thirty minutes later, we had a plan. Marilyn Rodgers delegated the operation to her senior agent, who just happened to be Jennifer Thomas. Jennifer brought in her team of agents, and after some discussion, they determined that the best place to meet Marlowe and make the swap would be a public place with lots of people—their choice was the Starbucks at University Square. They figured there’d be a reasonable chance that Marlowe would try to double-cross us and steal both the key and the money. He’d be less inclined to use violence if there were a number of people around. Furthermore, that particular center had a limited number of vehicle exit points—it would be harder for Marlowe to get away.

I wasn’t sure I agreed with this assessment, and I told them so. “I have a feeling this guy wouldn’t think twice about firing an AK-47 at a Seahawks game,” I said. “A few people sitting around at Starbucks probably aren’t going to slow him down. They’ll actually work well for him as hostages and shields.”

“We don’t agree. Anyway, it’ll work well for us if some of those people at Starbucks are FBI agents,” one of the agents said. “We’ll have the upper hand. We’ll be situated in very close proximity to the target. If we have to—if he becomes a threat—we can just drop him.” Well, there was that, I suppose.

“We are not going to initiate any action in a public place unless I give the signal,” Jennifer said. “If we have people in close proximity who can quickly arrest him, and if the traffic allows us quick access to get him out of there, then we might move. Otherwise, we’ll wait for him to return to his vehicle. Then we’ll nail him when he’s isolated.”

“You don’t worry about the fact that Marlowe will already have the key by then?”

“He’s not going anywhere,” she said. “That huge shopping area still only has three or four vehicle entry points. When the swap goes down, we’ll shut down the exits. Besides, that center is so crowded with vehicle traffic, even if he were to make it to a vehicle before we arrested him, the vehicle wouldn’t be able to exit the center unless we allowed it to.”

“Why don’t we just hold the meeting at his office?” I asked. “That way, you could walk right in afterward and bust the guy.”

“I think he’d probably see that coming a mile away,” Jennifer said. “I actually think he’ll find some comfort in making an exchange in a crowded public place. But most important, we feel that a crowded place like the Starbucks gives us the best chances of protecting you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I have to say, it seems like you guys are making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

In the end, though, it didn’t matter what I thought; I was overruled.

When the plan was complete, Jen looked at me. “So,” she said, “are you ready to make the call?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” I said.

“Use your cell,” she said. “Plug this in on top. She handed me a long cable that was connected to a plastic box. Plugged into the box were a number of headsets. Everyone at the table put one on. Jennifer handed me the number on a slip of paper. “One other thing,” she said.

I looked at her.

“Oh, remember," she said. "Make sure you
don’t
use the name Gordon Marlowe. He’ll know we’re involved if you do. Keep using Nicholas Madoc.”

Personally, I considered it highly likely that Madoc or Marlowe—whatever you called him—almost certainly already knew the FBI was involved. Or at least, he must have suspected. You don’t get to be a criminal his age without staying a step or two in front of the law.

I punched the number in. It rang four times before it answered.

“Mr. Logan,” the voice said. Marlowe had answered himself. “What a delight to hear from you.”