Monday
The two men exchanged cold glances.
“Over the weekend I went into her computer again. She’s wiped the entire drive. Everything’s gone. On both her office computer and her Mac at home.”
“Her Mac? At home? You broke into her house?” When Stokes didn’t reply, Phillips’ gut twisted. Great. Now he could add breaking and entering to Stokes’ felonies. He gazed out the window. What wouldn’t he give to be in the air? Hell, he’d even take his old Cessna, which he’d traded up for a private jet. Reluctantly, he refocused on Stokes.
“I can’t believe it. Everything was going her way. DADES, the success and accolades that come with it. She’s not a traitor.”
Stokes paused for a long moment. Then: “I have two words for you. Aldrich Ames. He’s serving a life sentence with no parole. Snowden will too…if they ever get him back.”
It was Phillips’ turn to cross his arms. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
“Because I interviewed her. Before Parks was—had his accident. She tried to convince me she knew Parks was a spy and she was trying to expose him.” He shifted. “But she claimed Parks was extorting her, threatening to blow her sky-high if she didn’t come through with more about DADES.” Stokes paused. “Then she told me something else.”
“What?”
Stokes licked his lips. “She said there was a flash drive involved. That Parks told her he had proof she was selling the system to the Chinese. She figures he must have copied all the emails between them and the general—”
“Gao?”
Stokes nodded.
“Christ. This just gets better and better. What was Parks doing for us anyway?”
“He was a ‘consultant’ to Hollander.”
Phillips tapped his fingers on his desk. He didn’t like where the conversation was headed.
“Actually there is one piece of good news. Hollander called me the day after we talked. Before she split. She had drinks with the woman who produced the video.”
“Why the hell did she do that?”
“Because on the day he died, Parks was on his way to meet the woman. Hollander says he gave the drive to her.”
“Foreman, right?” When Stokes nodded, Phillips asked, “Why her?”
“We’re still trying to figure that out. But Hollander asked if there was any way I could get it. She said it would exonerate her.”
“And you thought the best way to get it was to kill Parks?”
“That’s not the reason he was eliminated. I told you; I was protecting the company. Hollander, too, for that matter. At least at that point.”
“And now you want to kill Foreman? No way. This has gone far enough.”
“All we want is the drive.”
“Sure you do.” Phillips shook his head. “What a cluster fuck.” He was quiet for a moment. “What about Hollander’s son? Where is he?”
“He’s with his father. In Ohio.”
“Do they know where she is?”
“From what I can tell, no. At least that’s what the son’s been texting his friends.”
Was there anyone Stokes wasn’t hacking? Phillips let out a sigh. “You don’t think she—”
“Killed herself? Not a chance.”
“How can you be sure? Maybe she knew you were on to her and felt the walls closing in—”
Stokes cut him off. “No.”
“And you know this because…”
“There’s too much money involved. The woman got the hell out of Dodge. Probably stashed millions in the Caymans. She’s on some tropical island now with no extradition, laughing it up.” Stokes paused. “But there’s only one way to know for sure.”
“And that is?”
“The flash drive should have a record of all their emails.”
“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t get what you needed from Hollander’s computer.”
“Like I said, it was a system we’ve never seen before. In fact, we called in our brothers to help. It’s probably Chinese. Or Russian. The Russkies are still the best hackers in the world.”
But Phillips wasn’t interested in the Russians’ hacking proficiency. “Brothers? You mean the NSA?” When Stokes didn’t answer, he said, “Christ. Who else knows about this shit storm?”
“Well,” Stokes said, “NSA has been ‘keeping tabs’ on Delcroft for years. They’ve got eyes on all your phones and computers. Doesn’t matter whether it’s Turbine, Gumfish, or Foggy Bottom; they get whatever they want whenever they want. They know what Hollander’s been up to. And they share that intel with whoever they want: DOD, NSC, the White House.”
“Delcroft has leverage at DOD. I think it’s time for me to go to the CEO.”
“Let me get the drive before you do.”
Phillips was uneasy at the thought of any kind of alliance with Stokes, no matter how unlikely. “You realize this conversation makes me an accessory to about six felonies.”
Stokes smiled. “Yeah, but if we can nail Hollander and Gao before too much intel changes hands, Delcroft comes up smelling like a rose.”
“This is crazy, Stokes. You’re tampering with the reputation—hell, the future of the company.”
“With all due respect, sir, you didn’t hire me. Your boss did. But hey, you don’t want me to do this? I’ll back off. Of course, I’ll have to write a report detailing everything, including your objections, to the CEO and board of directors.”
Phillips straightened up and gazed at Stokes. “I don’t like threats, Stokes. You might want to reconsider. How are you going to explain to Riordan that you murdered one of our consultants?”
Stokes almost smiled. “Good point.” He stood, pushed his chair back to its original position, and strode to the door. “Checkmate.” He opened the door and pushed through. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Phillips had no illusions Stokes would follow through—the man was a loose cannon. No wonder the Agency had let him go. He looked out the window again, but this time the view was lost on him. It was time for Phillips to protect himself. Find a good criminal lawyer before the shit hit the fan.