CHAPTER THIRTEEN
While the boys were in Baltimore, Wyatt and Hiro were back at the Pentagon observing the organized chaos.
Already this morning, they’d found fifteen loopholes in the programs for the drones, allowing them to enter, interfere with the systems and get damn close to actually breaking through the walls of the Pentagon.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Admiral Peters. “We thought we were safe. Your own systems made us feel safe!”
“Our systems are nearly impenetrable. Notice I said nearly. And they did give you safety,” said Hiro. “But you can’t expect them to be iron-clad when your own people are literally opening the doors for the bad guys to walk in and steal the house.”
“Hey, I think I found something,” said one of the young techs on the floor. Hiro and Wyatt walked toward his computer and he pointed to something. “I’m a floor manager and I can see what everyone is working on. Not everyone is getting attacked. Only those with a DOD extension on their e-mail.”
“Wait. Not everyone is a full-time employee?” asked Wyatt.
“No. Some of them are contract. We move them around to other departments but their e-mail access and internet access is minimalized to the absolute necessities. These people here are all full-time employees.”
“They’re attacking for access to the systems here,” frowned Wyatt. “It’s not just credit card information they want. They want full access to the internal systems.”
“What do we do?” asked Billings.
“Give us some time,” said Hiro. “I think we can create a strong wall for those permanent employees and then we’re going to make one a dummy.”
“A dummy? Like a dummy computer?” asked Billings.
“Like a dummy everything. We’ll guide through what to open and give access and watch what they do on the other end. Hopefully, our system will react in time to track the source.”
“Hopefully?” he frowned. “What if you don’t?”
“We’ve got a block deeper into the program. They’ll think they’re in but it will only lead them down a rabbit hole. Either way, we’ll have time to track where the invasion is coming from. It could be here in the U.S., it could be foreign, it could be anything,” said Hiro.
“I hate to think it’s our own people doing it,” said Peters.
“You know as well as I do that our own people have done worse, sir,” said Wyatt. “Give us some time. Right now, we need coffee and lots of it. This is going to be a long night.”
To say it was going to be a long night was an understatement. By 0300, the others were getting worried and had come to help work on the potential system.
Although they were there for support, Kiel and Ben really weren’t capable of doing anything with the systems. They did, however, know how to make fresh pots of coffee and keep it hot.
“We’re so close,” said Wyatt. “I can feel it.”
Ben grinned at the younger men and nodded at Kiel, handing him a cup of coffee. They both remember being this excited working on cases. As they got older, it was still exciting but they learned how to control the energy and rush; the excitement of finding something and following it to the very end.
“Oh to be young again,” smirked Ben.
“Fuck that,” smiled Kiel. “I’m happy being a mature gentlemen.”
“Mature?” grinned Ben.
“That’s what the girl at the security desk said. She called Billings and said she had two mature men with the team from Legacy. That’s you and me asshole. Mature.”
“Fuck me,” frowned Ben. “That actually hurts.”
“Is what it is, brother. I’d rather be mature than dead,” grinned Kiel.
They stood sipping their coffee, watching the younger men scan screen after screen, their fingers flying across multiple keyboards all at the same time. Or so it seemed.
Ben stepped forward, then stopped, stepping back.
“What’s wrong?” asked Kiel.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered. Kiel listened, shaking his head. “Step forward, then back. Listen.”
Kiel did exactly as he’d done and frowned. He did it again, looking around the room. As he stared up at the entryway they were standing in, between the small, secluded kitchen space and the workspace, both men started to feel around the casing.
“What are you guys doing?” asked Wyatt.
“There’s something here. Something is making a clicking noise,” said Ben. The others stood, walking toward them. Ben told them exactly what he’d asked Kiel to do and they all nodded, hearing it as well.
Taking out the big tools, they began unscrewing the metal casing around the door way.
“I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch,” muttered Hiro.
“Such a potty mouth,” frowned Wyatt. “I’m telling your wife.”
Hiro flipped him the bird and reached up along the casing. In a thin line was a fiber optic line you could barely see.
“What the hell is that?” asked Ben.
“It’s gathering intel. It’s telling them who is here.
Every time someone enters that kitchen, it reads their badge or phone.
Probably both. They know who’s working and their details.
Once they have that information, they can follow their signal to the computer they’re working on and track the work, the sites they visit, everything. ”
“Are you fucking with us right now?” asked Kiel.
“I am not,” said Hiro shaking his head. “They know which computer to target. It gives them a name and probably a whole lot more. And gives us a place to start.”