wouldn’t count on wireless in such a remote area. Once I know what I’m looking for, I can use a program to triangulate their position.”
“What kind of program?” One of her techs looked skeptical.
“I’ve got something that operates like a fake cell tower,” Harper began. “Cell phones in a specific grid are tricked into transmitting hardware serial numbers, phone numbers, and other information to law enforcement. In this case, it’ll be me. The user won’t know it’s happening. And the program works long-range and off satellites.”
“That’s Triggerfish? It’s nothing new,” one of her team argued. “And I’d question how long-range it is.”
“Plus you need a court order to use it with the phone companies. The Patriot Act requires one,” Simon Bechtel, one of her senior shift supervisors, weighed in on the subject.
Tanya knew the Patriot Act had its share of controversy when it came to surveillance. The act was passed into law with overwhelming support from Congress as a counterterrorism measure to broaden law enforcement’s authority to use wiretaps and other similar measures. And the debate on certain provisions raged on. Yet she had an appreciation for fighting terrorism by whatever means possible, even if it meant bending the law to do it. That’s what her employer, the Sentinels, were all about—a vigilante group of international protectors who weren’t hampered by laws when it came to dispensing justice.
She was interested to see how Seth Harper would handle the pushback from her team and the intimidating Simon Bechtel. Bechtel had an arrogant way of talking down to people, especially when he thought he had the upper hand, like now.
“You’re right. Triggerfish is old news, but that’s not what I’m talking about. And yes, the Patriot Act does require a court order when accessing phone records. You’re right, sir, but hear me out.” Harper fielded their questions with patience. “I’ll be targeting a tight grid around Haiti to pick up the initial activity and follow it to southeast Cuba. At the risk of making a bad first impression, I’m not really a court-order-type guy. Back doors and sneaky shit are my specialty. And in the interest of full disclosure, I’ll admit that I once ran with scissors.”
Harper didn’t wait for a response. “Not everyone plays by the rules. Shocker, I know. In this post-9/11 world, U.S. government officials in very high places have ordered eavesdropping on private calls and justify their actions in the name of national security. I’m not naming names, but certain enhancements were made to the Triggerfish concept to get around legal technicalities. And this new program has created a loophole in the law.”
“My, you don’t say. What loophole?” Bechtel turned toward her and rolled his eyes with a smirk. He had already dismissed the kid.
“If I can bypass the phone company altogether, technically I’m not breaking the law.”
Her shift supervisor furrowed his brow and stared at Seth as if he had spoken in tongues. Jessie’s friend really had a way of seeing things out of the box. And Tanya liked his unconventional approach—as long as he was working for them.
“No,” the older man protested. “You can’t do that.”
“I didn’t. Some other brilliant fringe dweller did.” Harper leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. “The Patriot Act became law in 2001. Sections of it deal with safeguarding civil liberties when it comes to ‘Big Brother’ accessing phone-company records, but prior to that, there was no law that covered location-tracking technology at all. A court order wasn’t even needed before 2001 even though the technology existed. Ironic, huh? The Patriot Act gave us worthless protection against obsolete technology.” Harper shrugged with a smile. “Some pretty big government types are operating under the same assumption I laid out. That’s why this new program was created…or so I’ve heard.”
“Where’s the program? You didn’t come in with anything except an overnight bag of your personal effects. You were searched at security.” Bechtel turned to her again to make his case. “If he uses a program like that here, and it’s traced back to us, it could prove to be a liability.”
“I don’t see that happening, but the call is up to you, of course. This is your house, and I’m technically on vacation.” Harper stretched his long legs in front of him and slouched in his chair with arms crossed.
“I can confirm everything I’ve told you so we don’t waste any more time,” Bechtel argued. “This kid doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Let me make one phone call.”
“Impressive.” Seth shrugged. “The only thing I can get with one phone call is a pizza.”
Tanya nearly lost it. “Where do you keep this program, Seth?”
“I store my programs online in multiple spots I like to call my ‘cache.’ That way I don’t have anything in my possession. I’ve got them loaded all over. Some places might even surprise you.” He crooked his lip into a smile. “My online activity runs through foreign ISPs and pings off other users, so it’s hard to trace.”
“Yet not impossible,” Bechtel pointed a finger.
“No, I’d never make that claim, but I’ve got fail-safes in place to warn me if I’ve been compromised. And I figure you guys have an appreciation for tight security, too. Like I said, it’s your call.”
Tanya sat back in her chair and found it hard to stifle a grin. She had no idea if Harper had developed this software himself since he was cagey enough not to admit it. At a minimum, he had powerful connections that intrigued her.
“Do it, Seth. And, Jessie, call my extension when you two get something.” Tanya stood and headed for the door. Although Bechtel would need his ego stroked, it had been worth it to see a young guy like Harper hold his own with the seasoned veteran. When her team left the room, Tanya stayed behind and winked at Seth. “I like the way you think, sugar.”
Harper waited until the door was shut and locked behind Tanya Spencer before he turned toward Jessie, and said, “She called me sugar. Did you hear?”
“Yeah, you’re a damned chick magnet.” She grinned. “Work your magic, genius.”
Jessie walked over to his desk and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. “And thanks for helping Alexa, Seth.”
“I haven’t helped her yet.”
“Yeah, but my money is on you, smart guy. Always.”
His cheeks burned red, and he teetered between flashing a grin and avoiding her gaze with a shy blush. Eventually, he got to work.
Jessie loved watching him. The muscles of his long lean back moved under his shirt. After seeing him in the shower, she knew what he looked like under those clothes. She watched his hands as his fingers moved over the keyboard with confident, aggressive strokes. His intent expression never wavered from the computer monitor once he got started.
Jess knew it would be a long night. She called the in-house cafeteria and ordered plenty of coffee and munchies, the kind that would fuel Harper through the night.
She had a feeling he’d need it.
Southeast Cuba
Sierra Maestra Mountain Range
Alexa ordered her team to pack up and move out after dawn. They had no communication with Garrett for the moment. She hoped that would change soon. Her team was headed for the last known spot they’d seen the tracks from the hostages, the footprints Kinkaid had identified. He’d done his part. Now it was her turn.
Outside the cave, the air was thick with humidity after the storm. The excessive rain and high winds had ravaged the mountainside. Broken tree limbs had fallen onto the trail, and the lush vegetation had been flattened. Her scouts would have to find another way to track the movement of the terrorists.
They’d have their work cut out for them. And the clock was ticking for the hostages.
A steel gray sky cast a dull glow across the mountains and shed a glimmer of light on the damage left behind from the fierce storm. And a still, eerie calm put her on alert. There were no birds, and the normal sounds from the jungle were absent. She hoisted the pack onto her back and listened to the squish of mud under her boots as she navigated the slick ground.
Two of her men led the team out, and she looked over her shoulder one last time, thinking of Jackson Kinkaid lying unconscious in the cave.
