nervous.
“Sure. Which line?” Thorn asked.
“Uh, he’s here, sir. In the office.”
Thorn frowned. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs was
“Send him in, please.” Thorn fought to keep his composure. People like that didn’t just go places without letting folks know in advance. What was he doing here?
Four-Star Army General Patrick Lee Hadden stepped into Thorn’s office. He was in uniform, his jacket’s breast covered with ribbons and medals. He was a genuine war hero. Hadden was awarded two Purple Hearts in Vietnam, along with the Bronze and Silver Stars, and served with distinction in Bosnia, First Iraq, and the Syrian campaign. He was a tall man, iron-gray hair that was once black in a brush cut, still fit for a man of sixty-four, his face tanned and creased with laugh lines. His nose, broken at least once and set a hair crooked, gave his face a certain lopsided character.
Thorn stood, feeling as if he needed to come to attention.
“Commander,” Hadden said. He smiled, a high-wattage expression, with natural but nearly perfect teeth.
“General. Please, have a seat.” Thorn gestured at the couch.
Hadden sat, his back straight, but not stiff. Thorn also sat.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
“I, ah, just happened to be in the neighborhood,” he said. He smiled again, to show he was kidding. “I wanted to check and see if you’ve made any more progress on our problem.”
Thorn had told Jay to keep the military liaison posted and up to date, so anything he could offer now wouldn’t be new, but he also had heard that Hadden was a hands-on guy when it came to things he considered important. He wanted to hear what was what from the man running the investigation, and Thorn could understand that. When something reflected on you up the chain of command, when it might eventually be your head on the block for any reason, it was a good idea to track those things.
Still, it irritated Thorn a little. The military was hearing it as soon as Net Force had anything to tell them, Hadden had to know that, so he had to be here for something else as well. To prod them a little? To check out Thorn personally?
Or to put the fear of God into him?
“Our best people are on it,” Thorn said. “We are making progress.”
Hadden leaned forward a little. “And the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and all is normal with the world? That’s a little… nonspecific. The service is bleeding money every time this snafu hits us, Commander. I want to know how close we are to catching this terrorist and stopping his attacks.”
Here was a powerful man, used to command, and accustomed to getting his way. Thorn could feel that radiate from him. He understood it, but he didn’t like being the focus of it. He was used to doing things his way, too, and nothing got his back up faster than somebody who didn’t know what he was talking about telling him how to do his job — or hinting that he didn’t know how to do it.
“Do you think it’s going to rain in Sydney next Thursday, sir?” he asked.
“Excuse me, what does that have to do with—?” Hadden stopped. “Ah.”
Thorn saw that the general had gotten it, he wasn’t slow, but Thorn wanted to make sure. “My crystal ball doesn’t work any better than yours, General,” he said. “You’re getting our best effort. This isn’t like tracking an elephant across damp ground. We’ll find the guy. Could be tomorrow, could be next week, could be a month from now. It takes what it takes.”
Hadden smiled. “You’re not afraid of me, are you, Commander?”
Thorn didn’t hesitate. “No, sir,” he said. “All you can do is fire me. I don’t need the job.”
Hadden’s smile grew bigger. “I could do a lot worse than that, actually, but that wouldn’t help me solve my problem, would it?”
“Not unless you have somebody better to replace me.”
“And you doubt that.”
Thorn shrugged. “Me, maybe. My technical people? You can’t find better.”
Hadden’s smile had gone away. “And they are loyal to you.”
“I can’t speak to that. Fire me and find out.”
The general frowned. “Commander, I don’t think you want to get into a power struggle with me. I could draft your people and keep them right where they are.”
Now Thorn was really getting angry. “You don’t really believe that, do you? Face it, General, the most you could do is to keep their butts in the chair. That’s all. And you know as well as I do that if you did that with threats, you could kiss any chance of solving your problem — or your next problem, or the one after that — good-bye. These are creative and independent people. Push some of them too far and hell will freeze over before they give you squat. They will look real busy, but they won’t be doing anything useful.”
Hadden leaned back a little. “You’re part Native American, aren’t you?”
“I don’t mind the term ‘Indian.’ Yes, sir, I am.”
“You know, I had a great-great-grandfather who served with Custer. An ordinary trooper. He died at the Little Bighorn.”
“None of my relatives were there,” Thorn said. “Different tribe. But Custer got what he deserved. And if your grandfather was part of what he did to the innocent women and children along the way, then he got what
Hadden laughed. That puzzled Thorn, overriding his anger.
“If a man doesn’t have balls, I don’t need him working for me,” Hadden said. He stood and extended his hand. “Keep giving me your best efforts, son, and I’ll stay out of your hair. But if I think you’re dogging it, you’ll be rejoining the private sector PDQ.”
Thorn stood, surprised. “Fair enough.” He extended his own hand.
The two men shook. Hadden said, “I’ll talk to you later.”
And with that, he turned and left. Not quite a march, but not too far from it.
After he was gone, Thorn shook his head. Well. That had been… unexpected. And he wasn’t sure of what he had heard. It sounded as if the man was giving him slack, but that he’d shown up here and pushed him to see how he’d react was a little irritating. Thorn would just have to see how it went. If this was all Hadden was going to do, fine. If he decided to come back and apply pressure again? That wasn’t going to work. Thorn didn’t have to put up with that.
As he ate, Jay pondered his realization. It was the middle of the night — actually closer to two A.M., and Saji and the boy were asleep. Chang had packed up and gone back to his hotel a couple hours ago. Jay hadn’t stopped for supper, and it was early for breakfast. What was the nighttime equivalent of brunch? Dinfast? Supbreak?
The meal, whatever it might be called, was simple: a couple of boiled eggs he’d found in the fridge, an apple, and some cashews. Not the most exciting food, but at least it was something.
He sat at the kitchen table and went over it again, checking his reasoning.
He had gone at the problem every way he knew how, and it was the dog not barking in the night, he was sure.
Sherlock Holmes’s dictum once again — everything else had been eliminated, and there wasn’t anything left — at least not that Jay could figure out. He had run down every possibility except one:
There was a back door in the basic software — one that had been there since before the military — or CyberNation — ever got their hands on the programs. Put there by somebody looking far ahead.
In an interlinked multiple-affect synergistic software system this big, with its layers upon layers and wheels within wheels, figuring out where the hidden door was made looking for a needle in a haystack seem like a walk in the park on a nice spring day. It was more akin to finding a particular grain of sand on a big honkin’ beach. It
Many million lines of code would have to be searched, and even with a dedicated Super-Cray or a Blue whale running full-blast looking, if you didn’t have a pretty specific idea of how to frame your search, you could
