The pounding on the door made me almost drop my beer. I glanced at James and he shrugged his shoulders. Three in the morning. Nobody stops by for a social visit at three a.m. Well, in college you stopped by twenty-four hours a day. For a cigarette, a beer, or a shoulder to lean on. But in the adult world James pulled the door open and I half expected someone with a gun. Or a cop. Or maybe Carol Conroy. Or Em.
“Hi, guys. Sorry to bother you so late, but I couldn’t sleep and I thought I should share some information with you.” Jim Jobs, in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless undershirt, walked into our apartment.
“Watch your feet, dude.” James was looking at the floor where J.J.’s bare feet were walking through the slivers of window glass and pieces of blown-up computer.
“I saw the car.”
“You want a beer?” James stood by the cardboard case, ready to serve my beverages at this ungodly hour of the morning.
“Sure.”
“It’s warm.”
“Still better than water.”
James tossed him a bottle.
I couldn’t believe it. Better than water? “You saw what car? You mean the truck?”
“No. The car. The two guys pulled in, parked across the lot, and took four shots at your apartment. I saw it.”
It occurred to me that I’d seen a car pull in just before the shots. The one with no headlights. “Did you see what kind it was?”
“I did. Couldn’t make out the two characters inside, but there’s no doubt they stuck a rifle out the window and took those shots.” For the first time he started looking around. “Man, they really messed your place up.”
“Have a seat,” James said. The three of us straddled our three kitchen table chairs and we proceeded to take deep swallows-of warm, bitter beer.
“Skip,” J.J. never looked at me, just stroked his bottle and looked at the floor, “I questioned you the other day about that smoke detector. It wasn’t that I was trying to run the show-I mean, God knows I’m grateful to you for the job.”
And he should have been.
“But there are a lot of strange things going on in that place.”
James gulped his next swallow. He could drain a bottle in two swallows if he put his mind to it. Finally, he caught his breath and said, “More than you know, Jim. More than you know.”
“Well, I think I’ve got it figured out.”
A little magic, a little sleight of hand. James, Em, and I had been working on it hands-on, and this presumptuous bastard thought he’d figured it out?
“Why don’t you tell us what you think is happening?” James had a look of genuine curiosity on his face.
“Could be wrong, boys. Could be wrong.” He scratched himself through his shorts and I had to look away. “These guys at Synco Systems are putting in your security system to protect their secrets, right?”
I didn’t want to be cynical, but I couldn’t help myself. “It’s usually the reason people put in security systems.”
“But there’s some secrets that aren’t normal. That head of security guy-Feng. He’s sneaking out to the parking lot and talking to another Asian guy. Sometimes two and three times a day.”
I hadn’t noticed that.
“And the president, that Conroy fellow, he’s got Feng in his office ten times a day. It’s not like there’s a big leak in the security around there. So I say to myself, why all this secret stuff? What’s the big deal?”
James nodded. “So what did you come up with?”
“Well, Synco Systems is working on a security system for the Department of Defense, right?”
I was somewhat taken back. “How do you know that?”
J.J. put the beer down on our coffee table and rubbed his hands together. “They got maybe forty, fifty people working there. You can’t keep a secret from forty or fifty people. Gossip is thick in that place.”
This little guy was just a runner. And in the short span of three days he’d been promoted to temporary operation director by Andy Wireman, he’d questioned my decision to put in a smoke detector, and he’d picked up on the DOD, plus he’d listened in on plant gossip. He put James and me to shame.
“What was the gossip?”
“Like I said. This project that they’re working on is being delivered to the Department of Defense. The department in charge of defense of the entire United States of America. The defense of our country, Skip. Now come on. That’s pretty heavy stuff. Am I right?”
Actually, it was pretty heavy stuff. “And?” I didn’t think he had a clue.
“And? Listen to me, Mr. Moore. When a Chinese guy-two Chinese guys-get together and have secret parking lot meetings, when one of those guys is working on a top secret project for the Department of Defense, I get worried.”
“And what do you think they’re talking about? What do you think these meetings are about?” James, Em, and I had all waltzed around the idea. But we’d never committed. This little weasel, this handyman who’d threatened me after I got him his job, this guy was going to lay it all out for us? I couldn’t believe it.
“You need security codes to put in a computer system.”
“And?” I didn’t want him to say it. I didn’t want this to be true. I wanted my money from Synco Systems, from Sarah, and from Carol Conroy. Whoever shot up our apartment, it was all a mistake. The Feng and Chen connection, just a coincidence. The conversation we’d heard earlier tonight, totally out of context. Everything was going to be fine when we got up in, in about four hours.
“And? Are you kidding me? The Department of Defense is going to have to give security codes to Synco Systems so Synco can install the software. And when they do, the Chinese guys can steal every frigging secret in the entire system.”
James stood up, walked to the case, and pulled three more warm beers. He distributed them to us, then straddled his chair again. “Every frigging secret?”
“Every secret. About nuclear weapons. About new technology. About battle plans, spy networks, and whatever else the Department of Defense deals with.”
“Jesus.” James put the bottle to his mouth, closed his eyes, and we were all silent for about twenty seconds as he drained the beer.
“You know this? For a fact?” I so didn’t want this to be the truth.
“No. No. Hey, settle down. I could be wrong.”
James’s eyes rolled, possibly because of J.J.’s accusation, possibly because the beer was overwhelming his brain. “Our government isn’t that dumb. Do you understand me? The Chi Mak thing, the guy who stole missile secrets, that was because a trusted engineer was able to steal stuff he was inventing. It’s not the same, J.J.”
Jim Jobs gave him a blank stare. He obviously had never heard of Chi Mak or the stolen documents case.
“Our government isn’t going to just give up all their secrets to some stranger. Or the enemy. We’re not going to make that mistake again. We learned our lesson. I’m convinced of it.”
“James, it happens.”
“But not like this. They don’t just open up their systems to somebody without a safety check. Do they?”
“It happens every day.” J.J. took a short swallow of beer. There was a tremor in his hands and I thought he might spill his drink. “There was a story the other day, Wall Street Journal, some hotshot from DOD was storing some of the department’s sensitive information on his home computer.”
“Home computer?”
“Yep. Let me tell you something else. I used to work for a subcontractor for the Rocky Flats plant outside Denver. They make nuclear weapons.”
“What does that have to do with computer codes?” James was obviously agitated.
“I’ll tell you what it has to do with security. One of the laptop computers with serious information went missing while I was there.”
“And?”
J.J. stood up, tugging on the boxer shorts. “I’m trying to tell you. I was accused of stealing the computer, and