Andrew Kenny, Chief of Staff for Lawrence Hackett’s Globalnet company, looked at his pager.
“Code One,” he muttered. He rang Lawrence and arranged to meet him at the office. Twenty minutes later Andrew walked in. He saw the security guard waiting.
“What’s the Code One?”
“Intruder into our security systems,” the guard answered.
“The game?”
“Yes. Detained a kid; he’s one of our programmers, not the intruder. It gets worse … he discovered an intrusion, went in to check it out and then reported it.”
Andrew nodded. “Call the head of I.T. in now. Get him working on finding out who’s entered the system.”
The guard nodded. “The kid, Anthony Jenkins is his name, doesn’t know what he’s done wrong except set off the fourth floor alarm. I’ve detained him in the staff room. He’s crying for his mummy.”
Andrew smirked. He spotted Lawrence coming out of the first floor lift and joined him, filling him in as they followed the guard into the lift. They entered the fourth floor staff room. Anthony sat with his hands bound in front of him, his mouth taped, his eyes huge from shock and red from crying.
Andrew looked down at the security report he had been handed.
“Anthony,” he said. “Let’s chat.”
The guard walked behind Anthony’s chair and pulled the tape from his mouth. Anthony’s eyes darted around the room.
“You found something of interest?” Andrew asked.
“Yes … no … I don’t know, sir. I thought you should know about it,” he said.
“Let’s take a stroll to the eighth floor shall we?” Lawrence suggested.
The security guard nodded and grabbed Anthony’s arm, pulling him out of the chair and walking him in front. Lawrence and Andrew entered the lifts without speaking. Anthony could barely walk.
“Mr. Andrew, I didn’t …”
“Shut up,” the guard ordered.
They exited on the eighth floor. The guard put a code into the pad near the door to the I.T. room and the blue motion sensor went off. He pushed Anthony in. Andrew and Lawrence followed.
“Which computer?” Andrew asked Anthony.
“This one, sir,” Anthony indicated with a nod.
The guard sat Anthony down in front of the screen, keeping his hand on Anthony’s shoulder.
Andrew could see Anthony shaking. “So what were you doing here?” he continued questioning while Lawrence observed.
“I came in to make a copy of a web page I’d been designing for one of our clients; I wanted to do some work on it at home because I got this new software package that has …”
Andrew cut him off. “I get the point. So, when did you see the file marked MM3?”
“I logged out and as I did, I noticed the computer had been logged into about thirty minutes before me and whoever was on it, had accessed that file, the MM3 one with a link to a game. I didn’t open the file, but the game was a site called Mastermind. I figured, you know with hackers and everything today, I thought I should mention it.”
Lawrence spoke at last. “Impressive, Anthony. Your loyalty is appreciated.” Anthony’s head spun to look at him.
“Do you know what MM3 is?” Lawrence asked.
“No, sir. I haven’t heard of it.”
Andrew looked towards Lawrence who nodded once, turned and walked out of the room. Andrew said a few words to the guard.
“Mr. Lawrence!” Anthony yelled after him.
The guard stuck the tape back over Anthony’s mouth.
“You did the right thing, Anthony,” Andrew said, “unfortunately, you know about it now.”
He watched as Anthony shook his head and tried to yell through the gag, losing control of his bladder as a stream of yellow urine ran down the leg of his jeans. Andrew stood by as the guard went to the cupboard and removed two large black plastic bags. The guard grabbed Anthony’s arm, lifting him out of the chair. He pulled Anthony to the front of the room and pushed him down on top of one of the bags.
Andrew watched, fascinated, as Anthony’s eyes looked for some way out, his body whimpering and shaking. As the guard drew his knife, Andrew kept watching as Anthony’s eyes became lifeless. The guard closed the bag around him and tied it up with rope at the neck and feet. He pulled a second back over the top and secured it. He hurled it over his shoulder in one easy movement.
“Been a while since I’ve had to call on my military skills, but they came back like riding a bike,” the guard chortled.
Outside the room, Andrew entered the security code. The blue motion sensor came back on.
“I want a full report from I.T., ASAP,” he ordered.
“I’ll let them know, sir,” the guard answered.
Andrew watched as the guard took the body bag away to dispose of it. He removed his phone from his coat pocket and rang his wife.
“Emergency over love, on my way home.”
Samantha’s microphone in the ceiling recorded it all.
“A good night’s work,” Adam said arriving back at Mitch and Samantha’s hotel room just after ten p.m. “Bugs in, files downloaded.”
“I’m exhausted,” Samantha said. “Not only did we have an eleven-hour flight, but a week of on-and-off night shifts and an all-nighter in Nevada. I feel like I’m in slow motion.”
Mitch glanced at his watch and began to pace. “Test the equipment, Sam, will you? See if the bugs work.”
He saw her give him an exasperated look.
“What?” he asked.
“You haven’t heard a word I said.”
“Sorry, I was thinking. What did you say?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll test the bugs,” she dropped down on the sofa and opened her laptop.
Mitch continued to pace. Why hasn’t John called back? Why has Nick got the tracker on? He sat down and watched over Adam’s shoulder as he loaded the laptop with the files copied from Lawrence’s office.
Adam turned sideways. “You’re making me nervous,” he joked.
“Good.” Mitch grinned.
“Transfers have worked,” Adam announced. “Now, we need to go through all the Mastermind material and find out where the missing directors are, and get some evidence to prove Mastermind really exists.”
“I hope the data’s not too cryptic,” Mitch mumbled distracted.
Adam opened the financials. “All here,” he reported.
“I can’t test the bugs, until the cleaning staff start or some early-birds arrive to get some noise feedback from the receivers in the room,” Samantha said taking off the earphones.
Mitch looked over at Samantha, noting she looked drawn; her eyes were dark from lack of sleep. He sat back exhausted, hitting a low after a tense job.
“Listen,” he started, “as much as I’d love to do this right now …”
“You need to sleep,” Adam finished his sentence looking from one agent to the other. “You two hit the sack. I’m going to work here for a bit longer on these files. I’ll let myself out and see you in the morning.”
“OK,” Mitch said. “Sam, go to bed. I’ve got to try John again.” He stood, pacing the room while trying the number.
“I’ll wait. I want to hear what John says,” Samantha stayed seated.
“Who’s this John guy?” Adam asked.
“John Windsor, our Director,” Mitch answered. “We’ve got two other agents working on this same case in Nevada and they’ve run into a bit of trouble. John’s trying to help them.”
Mitch frowned as the phone continued to ring out.
Where the hell is he? Why hasn’t he called me about Nick and Ellen?
Finally, John answered.
“What’s going on?” Mitch said straight up.
“I was about to call you,” John said. “We’ve got a standoff happening. Ellie and Nick are being held hostage somewhere in the mine. Two of Lawrence’s heavies are guarding the perimeters and Daniel is inside the joint.”
“Great!” Mitch groaned.
“It gets worse,” John warned him. “They want to talk trade. They want the second pilot.”
“What for? What’s the trade?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“The second pilot in return for Ellie.”
“For chrissake,” Mitch said exhausted. “How did all this happen?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to speak with Nick in detail. I’ve had a stinted conversation with him talking trade.”
“Gut instinct. I knew it,” Mitch mumbled.
“What?” John asked.
“Nothing. Was Daniel there?”
“Yes, he was directing the conversation,” John confirmed.
“Right,” Mitch pictured the scene. “I should have given them a concrete plan. After the J.J. incident, I was trying not to be so anal and let them be more independent.”
“Mitch, anal is good. Stick with your instincts. If they don’t like your management style, they can transfer out of your team.”
“Hmm. Can you get someone to act as the pilot, John Maxfield?”
“No. Daniel can I.D. you.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but Nick sounded sure of it. Who saw you?”
Mitch thought about it.
“Bet it’s the guard that worked at the Broad Arrow site. Big Brazilian guy who showed me to the plane. Wasn’t he charged?”
“No, he was found to be just an employee at the site. But if he was on the payroll for the job, Daniel had the master file. One call, a promise to make it worth his while …”
“Yeah, he took me to the hangar, had a good look at me.”
“I hate to do this …”
“It’s got to be done,” Mitch cut in. “What time?”
“I’ve got you on a military flight at one in the morning your time from Northolt; it’s about six miles north of Heathrow. You’ll change planes in Miami.”
“Northolt?” Mitch said out loud. Adam nodded.
“I’ll be there. Thanks, John.” Mitch hung up the phone. He looked at his watch – nearly ten p.m.
“Are they alright?” Samantha asked, alarmed.
“No. They’ve been taken hostage. I’ve got to go make a deal.”
“Can’t someone else negotiate, or are you it for the whole coastline?” Adam asked.
“Someone else did negotiate and I’m offered in exchange for Ellie.”
Samantha’s eyes widened.
“So, can you both keep going on this until I get back?” Mitch dropped to the sofa.
“Of course,” Adam said. “Put your head down for a few hours, and I’ll wake you before midnight. I’ll drop you at Northolt on my way home.”
“That’d be great. Thanks, Adam.”
Mitch saw Samantha flash Adam a look.
This’ll be interesting, Mitch thought. Sam will want to make it known that she intends to run this show. So will Adam. Should I declare a leader? Nah, stuff it … too tired. They’ll either kill each other or … we’ll see.