Stained River (33 page)

There was the clicking of a keyboard as the desk attendant entered information.

“Ah yes, here it is. Room 529, Senhor Stanley Provencher. He was with us a short time only. I remember him”

“
Stanley Provencher? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“And not Cedric Hawkes?”

“No, Inspector.”

They showed the sketch to the concierge and asked if he could identify the man.

“I remember someone who looked very similar. He left me a good tip.”

“You remember his name?”

I believe his name was Provencher.”

“It wasn’t Hawkes?”

“Yes, I'm sure. I would remember the name of someone who tipped me that well. That's how I earn my living.”

They were on to something, but Castelo Branco was losing patience. Were they looking for Dan Templeton, Cedric Hawkes, Stanley Provencher, or someone else? Connery's trail of false identities had gained him valuable time.

CHAPTER FORTY
SIX

Cash, an identity, money in the bank; Connery could now focus on his plan to neutralize Castelo Branco. It was ambitious. He would spare no effort to bring this man down. In his possession were copies of letters from De Santana and a voice recording that proved his complicity in Reyes' death. But much of that could be contested since the letters weren't in his hand, and the cassette recording might not stand up to voice recognition analysis. If he tried to stay within the law, his own credibility in a Brazilian court wouldn't be great. Castelo Branco had powerful forces at his disposal. Any attempt to follow a strictly legal route would be lengthy and most likely, futile. There was the big question of his surviving any lengthy legal process. It must be done another way; the method foolproof, the execution perfect.

He began by hanging out in Internet cafes. His choices were limited since their popularity was not yet widespread in Brasilia. Nevertheless, he did find a few
and devoted a full morning to checking them out, carefully studying the clientele. He wasn't looking for the business type or even college students. He was looking for the offbeat character, the unconventional computer whiz, expert at breaching firewalls and security systems. A mental image developed in his mind of exactly who he was looking for, his dress, his mannerisms. The first three cafes proved disappointing. None felt right. After a quick lunch, he continued searching. Late afternoon brought him to 1710 Rua Marcilo Padilla, a place called simply,
Café Net
. Inside, it was clean, the coffee strong, the atmosphere laid back, and there was something different about the clientele. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He knew he found the place he was looking for.

N
ext day, he bought a Toshiba laptop with carrying case, a pair of faded jeans and a few casual tee shirts.  At
Café Net
he ordered coffee and a bagel, opened the laptop and accessed the wireless network effortlessly. For the next few hours he studied the people, a routine that wouldn’t vary for the next five days. By the end of a week, he got to know the regulars, picked up their language and engaged some potential candidates in friendly conversation. He explained that he wasn’t a computer expert, just someone who liked to explore the Internet while relaxing in an engaging atmosphere that offered outstanding coffee.

Café
Net
turned out to be frequented by American expatriates; a hangout for “techies” who looked like they might be running away from something. Most kept to themselves as they pounded keyboards or studied laptop screens, fully absorbed except for the occasional sip on a coffee cup. By the third day of the second week, two or three of the regulars seemed to fit Connery’s qualifications. He was undecided, however, about which one and how to introduce his offer. He wondered if they would think he was nuts. The problem was solved for him when his table was accidentally bumped, almost spilling coffee on to his laptop. The man apologized profusely for his clumsiness. Connery assured him everything was all right, no damage done. Then he noticed the man almost duplicated the picture of the guy he had in mind; late twenties or early thirties. He had a scraggly sort of beard as if he had forgotten to shave for the past three days and wore a faded red tee shirt proclaiming
Fiesta Cancun ’89
. He was offbeat but intelligent looking. The café had filled rapidly, leaving no vacant tables, so Connery asked if the man would like to share his.

“Thanks
partner! My name is Ted. Some guys in here might be a little more up tight if their laptop almost had coffee spilled on it.”

Ted immediately opened the conversation. It didn't take long for him to grow more relaxed when the subject turned to technology. Connery asked questions he knew the answers to but soon steered the topic toward software, saying he knew the owner of a company whose computer security was breached. It had caused all kinds of problems. He wondered how such a thing could be done. The subject struck a chord. Ted's face changed to a look of intense interest, and it soon became evident he that had a high level of expertise in that arena.

“Do you really want to know?”

Connery said he did.

“I knew this guy once who was pretty good at it,
hacked some FAA stuff, but they were on to him, had to blow town.”

“What kind of FAA stuff?”

Ted's face lit up.

“Ha! It was beautiful! He hacked the system in Atlanta that creates airlines' flight plans and traffic management. There were ground delays from coast to coast. This was big, man. A coup!”

For the next hour, Ted talked excitedly about remote site access, password encryption, file structure, remote access trojans, use of the Internet, and other aspects of hacking. He displayed a high level of knowledge that could be used in skills of a criminal nature. Oblivious to the disruption and cost of the misadventure he described, he went on at length about the talent it took to penetrate the FAA's system. For him, it represented a supreme achievement. Connery listened, fascinated. As the story deepened, it became obvious that Ted was talking about himself. Connery interrupted the conversation and played a hunch.

“Is that why you're here in Brazil, Ted? 

“What do you mean?”

“
It’s you that you're talking about, right? You did those things. Your name isn't Ted, is it?”

The man
pushed away from the table; suddenly realizing he got carried away and shot off his mouth to someone he didn’t know. He abruptly closed his laptop and prepared to leave. Connery had found the right person, but was about to lose him.

“
Hey wait! Wait! Hold on! There's money in it for you. Sit down, let's talk.”

Hey, I don’t know, man
! I don’t know you from nuthin’! Who the hell are you anyway?”

The loud talk was starting to draw attention. Connery had to act fast. He reached in his pocket and
placed a hundred
reals
on the table.

“Hear me out for five minutes. If you don’t like what I have to say, pick up the hundred and leave, it’s yours, no strings. Deal?”

Ted pondered a moment, stared at the bill then sat down reluctantly. This time he was closemouthed, wanting to hear more before he said anything else; intrigued by the idea of an easy hundred.

“I don't want to know your real name
, and you don't need to know mine, so I'll continue to call you Ted, OK?

Look, I need someone with your talent. I’m willing to pay as much as ten thousand
to the right person. I think you may be the one. What you have to do is no more than what you do here every day, except you’ll be highly paid. I’m buying information. All you have to do is get it, and I know you can. Here’s my first question. How difficult was it to tap into a system as sophisticated as the FAA’s?”

“OK, you nailed me on the FAA crap, but I didn't do it for the money, man. I did it for the thrill. I would have gotten away with it except for one small mistake I'll never make again
. Anyway, I had to leave the U.S. That's why I'm here. The FBI came this close to hanging me out to dry. Like I said, I didn't do it for the money, but now I'm here, broke. Ten thousand would buy me some time.”

“Why here?”

“Not my first choice, but it’s big city life in the middle of nowhere, plus I know the language. But like I said, I don’t know squat about you.”

“You don’t need to know anything about me, except my money’s good. Always cash.”

“Why should I trust you? How do I know you won’t turn me in?”

“You don’t, but you're going nowhere without someone like me. It's you're decision.”

“Used to be a lot easier, but now with sophisticated firewalls, passwords that are changed frequently- stuff like that. It's gotten tougher. Once you figure it out though, it's like everything else.”

“Show me what you got.”

Ted opened his laptop. A few minutes later, Connery saw what could be done using remote access software. Software that could be bought almost anywhere for under $200. He was amazed at Ted's high level of skill. His fingertips flew over the keyboard, and he obviously was excited for a chance to get back into the game, to impress, and make some money doing it. Ted and others like him were dangerous. They had the potential to collapse huge systems. Obviously, the FBI, Interpol, and everyone else was looking for him. If Ted went down, Connery could go with him.
What the hell,
he thought. He decided to win Ted’s confidence.

“Listen
! For different reasons, I may be on the same side of the fence as you- where the law is concerned anyway. The last I knew, my firm was being investigated for large-scale fraud. I don’t want to be here anymore than you do. I won't go into it. All you need to know is that there is a company here that I need access to; its data files, everything you can get with that laptop of yours. You have to trust me when I say it will do many people a lot of good. The stuff you were into didn’t do anyone any good. Once you have what I need, I'll find a financial guru to spell things out for me. I intend to take this place down, but they're big enough to have sophisticated computer security. It won't be easy.”

“You may be in luck.”

“Why?”

“Two things. First, I can do the job. I can breach most security systems
. I don’t care how good they are. Second, I know a guy. He used to be a partner in one of the Big Eight accounting firms before the Big Eight became the Big Five. Hooked up with the wrong guy, made millions. Now he's here with me. He’s a hound dog. No one can smell cooked books better than him. It’s because he did the cookin’ himself.”

“Good
! If he’s what you say he is, I can use him. Meet me here tomorrow. I'll have a thousand dollar advance for you and the name of the company. We're both taking a chance. The FBI wants your ass. Me, because the head of this company is a nasty guy who is, no doubt, looking to cash me in. It’s become personal. I don't have to tell you to keep your mouth shut, because a leak could have bad consequences. After tomorrow, we'll find different places to meet. See you at ten.”

CHAPTER FORTY
SEVEN

Ted's passion and ability when it came to hacking data files became even more apparent during that first week. It was like a chess match. The more renowned his opponent, the more he enjoyed the challenge. The more firewalls to penetrate, the better. Probing supposedly secure files from a remote site was his thing; he was in full control, his genius, the catalyst. Each fracture of a firewall opened a door to a whole new world, a Shangri-La that he explored meticulously for its hidden secrets. It was power; the kind he couldn’t get from the crowd he hung with in high school. They labeled him a nerd.

The airport attack was serious
. It could have crippled the nation's airlines for an extended period of time. That may have entered Ted's mind. It didn’t matter. He did it for sport and to show the FAA software engineers he was their superior. Over confidence did him in. On that job, he left a “cyber print.” The Feds were able to figure out the Internet Protocol address peculiar to his computer and traced it to him. The day they found out where he lived. He came home late. Luckily, he hesitated before unlocking the door to his apartment. Someone was ransacking the place. He knew immediately who it was. He vacated with nothing but a few bucks in his wallet. From that time on, they were one-step behind until he fled the country as a stowaway, hitchhiker and whatever else it took. He ended up in Brasilia, partially by design, partially by luck. It might take the FBI and Interpol years to catch him, but eventually he would make a mistake. In the meantime, he was a resource for Connery who needed his kind of expertise. Ted could turn out to be a liability. What he had done made him “hot.” But sometimes, it took a criminal to catch a criminal. It would only be for a few weeks.