The Fugitive's Trail (11 page)

Springfield, MO

Kruger leaned back in his chair. He looked at Joseph, who nodded. He then returned his attention to JR. “That corresponds to what we knew about the case. You confirmed my suspicions about the physical threat. Did you find all of his diverted funds?”

Diminski shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. He probably had a few accounts he didn’t access while the program recorded keystrokes. But I got a lot of them.”

Kruger was silent for a few moments. Then he said, “As far as I’m concerned, I still haven’t found the fugitive from New York City. But I am concerned about who else is looking for you and who accessed your military file?”

Joseph said, “I have someone looking into the matter.”

Kruger nodded. “You mentioned you still have a backdoor into Plymel’s computer.”

JR said, “I have one into P&G Global. His laptop is invisible. They changed the access codes after they found the security camera recording. He has a new email account, which I’m sure will be easy to find when I go back into the corporate server.”

“If we needed to, could you bring their system down for a few minutes?”

JR smiled. “I can bring it down for hours or days if we need to. They still haven’t spent a lot of money on security. If their investors knew how susceptible they are to a computer breach, they’d be screaming.”

Kruger smiled. “How fast could you set it up?”

JR looked at the floor and was silent for a few moments. He turned his gaze to Mia, who squeezed his hand. He returned his attention to Kruger. “It can happen pretty quick. I’ve had a DOS attack ready for several months. I just haven’t implemented it.”

“What’s a DOS attack?”

“Sorry, it means denial of service, basically thousands of computers trying to access their system simultaneously. This causes the system to overload and shut down. They’re easy to set up, but they’re a bitch to defend against. Particularly if you don’t know what you’re doing. P&G’s team doesn’t have a clue.”

“I take it you know how to keep them from finding the source of the attack?”

JR smiled. “They’ll never find the source. The attack will appear to be coming from overseas.”

Kruger nodded. “Good. Do you still have the files from his laptop?”

JR tossed a flash drive to Kruger, who grabbed it. “It’s yours, I didn’t make a copy.”

Glancing at his watch, Kruger said, “It’s late. I’m spending the night in town, but I have to leave for KC by late morning. Joseph and I will be back first thing tomorrow, hopefully with a plan. I need to think about it tonight.” He stood and moved toward the front door, Joseph right behind him.

Just as he was opening the front door, JR said, “Agent Kruger. Why did you decide to help me?”

Kruger turned and looked at JR. “Plymel lied to me in New York City. I don’t like people lying to me. Besides, his partner, Alton Crigler, was a deputy attorney general and was on my case the entire time he worked at the Justice Department. Crigler pulled in a few favors to get me assigned to this case. Now he wants me fired. So to answer your question, I wanted the truth. Now I have it. Besides, I don’t like rich guys screwing the rest of us.” Kruger smiled, turned, and walked through the door. Joseph winked at JR, turned, and followed Kruger.

As soon as the door was shut, JR turned to Mia. “I’ll understand if you walk out and never want to see me again.”

Mia frowned and pointed her index finger at JR. “Don’t even go there. It’s going to take a lot more than this to make me walk.”

***

Kruger found a hotel close to JR’s Condo; he needed time to think before he met with Joseph the next morning.

Joseph was an old friend, the man who had originally encouraged Kruger to join the FBI. The man’s past was still a mystery to Kruger. He knew Joseph still worked for the government, in some fashion, but every time he asked Joseph what he did, the man would smile and not answer. Kruger had his suspicions, but respected his friend’s wishes to keep it confidential. Over the years, their collaboration had resulted in a lot of very dangerous people being removed from society.

Once settled in his room, Kruger pulled a legal pad from his computer bag, propped himself up, and leaned against the headboard. This was his normal way of working through a problem. He made a line down the middle of the page and started making bullet points on the left side, rebuttals on the right. By midnight, he had the beginnings of an idea.

After putting the legal pad back in his backpack, he called Stephanie to find out when her plane would arrive from San Francisco tomorrow. They talked for an hour. After the call, he turned the lights out.

The next morning, after checking out of the motel and having breakfast with Joseph, the plan had taken shape. Their discussion had resulted in several modifications. After both were satisfied, they headed to JR’s.

***

Kruger handed the flash drive with the files from Plymel’s computer back to JR. “I need this information sent to me via an email address that can be traced back to a personal account of Alton Crigler. Make it hard to trace. Next, we need to know who was trying to access your military file.”

JR nodded and typed on a small laptop.

Joseph said, “We should know that by the end of the day.”

Kruger said, “As soon as the file is received, I’ll called my boss and asked for a forensic accountant to be on standby. At that time, the case in New York City will be reopened. ”

Smiling, JR continued typing.

“I’ll be heading to KC in a few hours. I’ll be in back in New York in a day or so to meet with my team. Charlie Craft will be my forensic technician; he was with me when we first started this little expedition. The forensic accountant will be Sharon Crawford. She’s good and not easily intimidated.”

JR said, “When do you want the DOS attack to begin?

“Once I have the team in place, I’ll let you know. I need to get a few things organized before we pull the trigger. When we pull it, events will happen fast.”

Joseph’s cell phone vibrated. He noted the ID, accepted the call, and said, “Good morning, Sandy. How are you?”

“Fine, sir. I just found out who accessed the file you were interest in.”

“Who accessed it?”

“The ID used is assigned to a Sergeant Major George Morris, currently a hand-to-hand combat training specialist at Bragg.”

“Interesting, just a moment, hang on.” Joseph looked at Kruger and said, “A sergeant named George Morris accessed the file. Does that name mean anything to you?”

Kruger shook his head and looked at JR.

Shaking his head, JR said, “No, but I’ve been out for a long time. Who is he?”

Joseph said, “Hand-to-hand combat trainer at Fort Bragg.”

JR looked puzzled. “I never was at Bragg.”

Kruger frowned, “Ask him to find out all he can about this Sergeant Morris. I doubt he decided all of a sudden to look up JR’s file on his own. Someone’s paid him to find the information.”

Joseph nodded. He said into the phone, “Sandy, find out what you can on Morris.” After the call ended, Joseph said, “Sandy looked him up. He’s a twenty-five-year veteran, multiple deployments, commendations too numerous to mention and deep in debt. He has two ex-wives who take more than half his salary in child support and alimony. He’s being watched by Army CID, but they can’t pin anything on him.”

Kruger looked at Joseph. “Can Sandy pay him a visit?”

Joseph nodded.

JR said, “Get me his email address. I can see if anything’s there.”

Kruger smiled. “Even better.”

Over the next two hours, Kruger laid out the remainder of his plan. When he was through, he said, “JR, things might get a little dicey once Plymel is under arrest. We know they’re still trying to find you. Once I start working on Crigler, they might double their efforts. You and Mia might need to take a long vacation.”

“How long?” asked Mia.

Kruger shook his head. “Don’t know, could be awhile.”

JR shook his head. “I’m not running anymore.”

“I’m not asking you to run away,” said Kruger. “Just be unavailable for a while, that’s all.”

Looking at Mia, JR said, “We’ve been talking about going to the mountains. What’d you think?”

She nodded. “I hear it’s beautiful this time of year.”

JR turned back to Kruger. “When do you think we should leave?”

“Do you have to monitor the DOS attack?”

“No, I can start it from anywhere.”

“Then if you can arrange it, leave the day after tomorrow. The fireworks will start not too long after.” He turned to Joseph. “Can you arrange someone to watch this place while they’re gone?”

Joseph nodded. “I was thinking about that myself. Consider it done.”

“Then we’re all set.” Kruger handed JR a business card. “Buy several throwaway cell phones, with cash, and keep in touch.”

JR laughed. “Sorry, I’m way beyond that. I can call you from anywhere in the world through my computer and no one would be able to trace the call.”

Kruger smiled. “When we’re done with this little mess, you’ll have to share that tidbit of knowledge.”

“It will be my pleasure.”

New York City

Adam Weber read the email from Sergeant George Morris for the second time. He sat back in his chair and tapped his index finger on his lips. Why had the sergeant been questioned earlier in the day about accessing the fugitive’s file seven months ago? Why now? In his experience, most individuals on the run made mistakes. Had the man finally made a mistake and the army was now after him? Something had changed.

His cell phone was on his desk. He reached for it and did a search for Morris’s number. He needed to know details the email left out. The call was answered on the fourth ring.

“Sergeant Morris.”

“Can you talk?”

“No, sir. Not at the moment.”

“Okay, call me when you can.”

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”

Half an hour later, Weber’s phone vibrated. He glanced at the caller ID and accepted the call, “Who’s asking questions?”

George Morris said, “I had a visit from Army CID this morning. They wanted to know why I was accessing, without authorization, a classified file.”

“How did they know you accessed it?” Silence was his answer. “Sergeant, are you there?”

“I’m not sure. They didn’t tell me.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Not much. I told them I accessed the file by mistake.”

Weber had the feeling Morris was lying. He said, “And they bought that?”

“I have no idea, major. Look, you never told me this guy was radioactive. Why are they pissed off about me looking at a file that’s been closed for fifteen years? Who is this guy?”

Weber was silent. It was a legitimate question. Why was CID involved? “Sergeant, tell me, who exactly came to see you?”

“A lieutenant and a staff sergeant did all the talking. There was a major with them. He wasn’t CID, and he didn’t say anything. He just stood back and listened.”

“What was his name?”

“He wasn’t introduced and I didn’t ask. But his name patch said, Knoll.”

“What did he look like?”

“Big guy, bigger than me, short sandy-brown hair, built like a funnel, you know, wide shoulders, narrow hips. His biceps looked like my thighs. The funny thing about him, he wore BDUs with just his oak leaves and name patch, no other identifiers. To me, he looked like Special Forces.”

“Is this going to be a problem for us, Sergeant?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Finally, Morris said, “You know my memory isn’t what it used to be, but a couple more thousand would really help me forget.”

Weber closed his eyes and shook his head. “I see. I’ll make sure your memory continues to be poor. Good night, Sergeant.” He ended the call and sat back. Who was this Major Knoll? And why was he interested in the fugitive? Weber could understand if just CID showed up, but a major with no insignias—something wasn’t right.

***

Caroline Welch was a recent graduate of Amherst. While not the homecoming queen, she considered herself attractive. She also considered herself smarter than the other recently hired female associates at P&G Global. Unfortunately, she was still classified as an intern. After searching for a job for six months, without success, she had taken the internship. Hopefully to learn more about hedge funds and high finance. Her current project was so far from that goal, she was livid. Finally, at her limit and ready to quit, she stormed into Adam Crigler’s office and threw the file onto his desk. She said, “This is not why I was hired.”

Crigler looked up at Welch, took off his glasses, and reached for the file. “Ms. Welch, you were hired to do research. Why don’t you sit down and take a couple of deep breaths. We’ll talk about it.”

His calm demeanor dissipated her anger like a fall wind scattering leaves. She took a deep breath and sat in a leather chair in front of his desk. She was quiet as he read through the file.

“This is good work, Ms. Welch. Tell me, what are your conclusions from this data?”

“Thank you, Mr. Crigler. My assignment was to identify start-up computer companies the firm might be interested in funding. When I joined the firm…”

Crigler held up his hand, palm toward her. “Ms. Welch, let’s be clear on your status. You are not officially a member of this firm, yet. You are a paid intern. We are evaluating your worth and will make a decision within six months. However, I like your initiative, and your work. So, please, go on.”

“I’m very much aware of my status, Mr. Crigler. However, as I was saying, when I started my internship, I was told I would be doing research for possible acquisitions.” She pointed to the file in his hand. “The companies I’m researching are small start-ups. How am I supposed to learn the big picture? All I’m doing is wasting my time with companies that aren’t even profitable.”

“I assure you, Ms. Welch, you are not wasting your time, as you so enthusiastically put it.”

She frowned, but remained quiet. Crigler continued to read the contents of the folder. After five long minutes, he pulled ten sheets of paper from the file and set them aside. He opened a file drawer on the left side of his desk and dropped the file into a slot. Looking back up, he took the ten sheets of paper and said, “You’ve done a nice job on this, but”—he handed them back to her—“I need you to dig further into these ten. We need to know more about the individuals who started the company and their background, particularly if they were ever in the military. Can you do that, Ms. Welch?” She nodded. “Please make a copy of each of those pages and give them back to me. It’s important to the company, Ms. Welch, trust me.”

She stood and clutched the papers to her chest. For a second, she appeared ready to say something, but instead walked out of Crigler’s office.

He smiled as she left and reached for his cell phone on the right side of his desk. His call was answered on the second ring. “Why don’t you come to my office around five. There’s been a new development.”

***

Adam Weber finished reading the pages Caroline Welch had returned to Crigler. He handed them back to Crigler, and said, “I think you have a valid idea here. What next?”

Smiling, Crigler said, “What did your military friend tell you about the fugitive’s military training?”

“He confirmed what we suspected; he had a lot of hand-to-hand combat and weapons training. Plus he was being groomed to be in a cyber-warfare unit.” Weber stopped, his eyebrows rose, and he flipped through the pages again. “Each one of these companies was started by someone with military training and knows computer security.” He paused. “And, each one was started in the past eight months.”

Crigler nodded, “Very good, Adam, very good. One of those companies is here in New York City. I doubt it’s him, but you need to check it out. The others are scattered across the country. Why don’t you take a road trip?”

Weber nodded, stood, picked up the ten sheets of paper, and placed them in his inside suit coat pocket. “I believe I will.”

***

The first company, outside of New York, was located in an old house a few blocks from Wrigley Field in Chicago. Adam Weber sat in his rental car and double-checked the address with the file. It was the same. He parked the car at the curb and walked to the front door. After ringing the doorbell, he waited. After the third time, the door barely opened and a small man about five foot six peaked out. He said, “May I help you?”

Weber was tired and knew after he saw the man he was wasting his time. He pushed the door open. “I’m looking for this man.” He had the picture of the security camera cropped so it did not show the security guard. The small man wasn’t intimidated, which surprised Weber.

Without looking at the picture, the man said, “Nope—never seen him before. Now get the hell out of my office.”

“Mind if I look around, make sure you don’t know him?”

“Yeah I mind, I have work to do, now get
out
!”

Weber turned around to face the man who was still standing by the door holding it open. He pulled out his H&K and said, “I’m looking around. Shut the door.”

The man stared at the gun, shook his head, and bolted out the open front door. Weber holstered the gun and started rummaging around in various offices. All he could see was computer equipment in various states of disrepair. In a filing cabinet, he found a file containing the business organization and structure. The man was listed as a sole proprietor. Weber closed the file and walked back to his rental car. Several blocks later, he saw a patrol car speeding in the opposite direction. Smiling to himself, he headed back to the airport.

Over the next couple of days, Weber had similar results at companies in Minneapolis, Dallas, Little Rock and Kansas City. The next to last company he needed to check was south of Kansas City in Springfield. Since there were no direct flights, he drove the three hours and arrived shortly after six-thirty in the evening. The business was located in a strip center surrounded by dentists, accountants, hair salons, and payday-loan offices. The sign on the door identified the business as Ozark Security and Computer Consultants, LLC. The hours of business were stenciled on the glass front door, plus there was an after-hours contact number. The door was locked and no lights were on inside.

Back in his car, he dialed the number listed on the door. A female voice answered and said, “Ozarks Security, how may we help you?”

“Yes, my name is Alex Volmer,” said Weber. “I’m taking bids on having our computer system upgraded. Who would I speak to in your company?”

“I’m afraid he is out of town for a few days. I can transfer you to his partner.”

“Oh, no need. When do you expect him back?”

“I’m not sure, sir. This is an answering service. He only tells us when he’s out and lets us know when he returns.”

“I see. Well maybe you should transfer me to his partner.”

“Just a moment, sir. I’ll transfer the call.”

The phone was silent for a few moments. Weber was curious why a computer specialist would still be using an answering service. But his thoughts were interrupted by the phone being answered. “This is Joseph, may I help you?”

“Yes sir, my company is taking bids to have our computer system upgraded, and I wanted to speak to someone in your organization who could give us a bid. The answering service indicated he was out of town.”

“Yes, he is. I can take your contact information. When he gets back, I’ll have him call you. Would that be sufficient?”

“Well, I was hoping to have this process done by the end of the week. Will he be back in a day or so?”

“No, he’s out till the end of the week.”

“Okay, thank you.”

***

Joseph ended the call with a frown on his face. It was a fishing expedition—of that, he was certain. Someone was looking for JR. First, the area code of the call was from New York; JR refused to do business with anyone east of the Mississippi River. Second, the man wouldn’t leave his contact information. He walked to a laptop and entered the phone number in a reverse directory website service and found it unlisted. Smiling, he went to another search engine JR had designed and entered the number. The results showed the number belonged to an Adam Weber of New York City.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. But he knew someone at the Justice Department in Washington DC who might be able to help. It was after eight on the East Coast, so he dialed her cell phone number. The call was answered immediately. “Joseph, I was thinking of you the other day. When are we going to take that trip you keep promising me?”

Smiling, Joseph said, “I’m ready anytime. You just have to tell me when.” The two of them had been talking about a trip to New Zealand for years. In reality, they would probably never take it, but it was fun to talk about.

“What do I owe the pleasure of this call, Joseph?”

“I need some information. Have you ever heard of a man named Adam Weber?”

Silence was his answer. He was beginning to think the call had been dropped, when she said in a questioning tone, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just doing a little background check, that’s all.”

“Are you thinking about hiring him for some reason?”

Now it was Joseph’s turn to be quiet. Finally he said, “You sound hesitant. Do you know him?”

“Yes, if it’s the same Adam Weber. He’s an ex-US Marshal, who left under a cloud of suspicion. There were rumors, rumors he was selling the locations of several individuals in the Witness Protection Program. Those individuals disappeared suddenly. If I remember correctly, nothing was ever proven, but his career was essentially over after the allegations were made. ”

Joseph frowned. That was why the name sounded familiar. “Mary, I need to know more. How hard would it be for you to get me more information on this guy?”

“Not too hard, but it will cost you.”

He smiled. “How much?”

“You’ll have to come to town and take me to dinner. We can talk about the rest of the payment after we eat. I have a sexy new dress I was saving to wear for just such an evening.”