The next morning, Jen was at her kitchen table, scanning the news. It had been four days since any deaths in the US or Europe from the street treatment. There were still new cases in Asia, but they were tapering off. Good news, sure, but bad news if she was going to catch these guys. After all, if there were no new cases, it must mean they were shutting down the operation. The damage had been done. The public would run like hell from the co-ops’ Eden; the consortium’s business would be preserved.
Another news site. And there she was. Teena Archambault. Speaking at a press conference in London.
“This has been a terrible time for many families. We are pleased that our officials have stopped this horrific scourge. Our only hope now is that they will quickly bring the criminals to justice. This nightmare is over.” And then the line that flashed like lightning. “Thank goodness I can get back to my normal work.”
As far as Jen was concerned, she might as well have come out and announced what she’d been up to. For sure, they were shutting it down. She wondered if Teko Teko was still in town and if their office still even existed.
She thought about returning to the Eisenhower Executive Office Building. But without her police badge, she wouldn’t make it off the sidewalk. She mulled over some ruses. Faint at security; kindly older guard brings her inside to recover; she sneaks away, gets over her fear of dark enclosed spaces, and hides until nighttime in a broom closet; then sneaks upstairs, dons a Mission Impossible mask of Teko Teko, grabs evidence, leaps from window, exposes bad guys.
Oh, Chandler, she thought, where are you when I need you?
Ava came into the kitchen, put on the kettle, and rummaged in the refrigerator. When the water boiled, Ava poured water over the grounds in the French press. “Coffee?”
“Nice. Working this afternoon?”
“The White House. And thus begins my final week.”
One week, Jen thought. She and Zach still hadn’t decided—or rather, she hadn’t decided—whether to find her own place or move in with him. She was suspended with pay, but figured it wouldn’t be long until she was kicked off the force. She’d be without any income and had no idea what she would do.
“You should do one,” Ava said.
“What?”
“One of my tours. I could sneak you in, no problem. Rub shoulders with the rich and famous I juggle for.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Wednesday night is my famous nighttime tour of the Library of Congress.”
“Been there.”
“But not at night. It’s a true crowd-pleaser.” Ava checked her calendar. “Or tomorrow. First thing at the Eisenhower, then the Capital.” She went to the kitchen door and yelled, “Taylor!”
The gods had lit up the runway. At least she could get into the building. If nothing else, she’d find out if the office was still there and if Teko Teko had blown town. (Chandler again, she thought.)
Ava was speaking to her.
“Oh, sorry. What?”
“I was asking if you want a small or big mug,” Ava said.
In her mind’s eye, Jen saw it. For real. No fantasy. The oversized mug on the assistant’s desk with the password written underneath.
It had seemed such a simple idea. Steal the password, hand it over to Isaiah to give to his tech wizards, then mine Teko Teko’s files.
But when she told Isaiah, he ended that fantasy. His voice was as calm as ever. “There is no chance of going in from off-site. There would be two or three stages of security. Finger or handprint”—Jen pictured the assistant resting his fingers on his mouse pad—“and facial scan”—ditto—“and only then, your manual password for some specific apps. Our only chance is by us from inside.”
“Then?”
“I have someone.” He paused, as if considering how much to say. “Someone who works with me. I think they will be willing to try. But Teko Teko’s documents and email will be heavily encrypted.”
Jen said, “Isaiah, you’re stringing together a lot of buts and impossibilities.”
For the first time, Zach spoke. “Jen, you said you think they’re about to shut it down.” He turned to Isaiah. “Maybe there’s something on his calendar.”
Isaiah said, “Same problem. Calendars contain a fantastic amount of private and secure information. The full calendars in the company are heavily protected. One password won’t do it.”
Zach said, “What do you mean, ‘full calendar’?”
“We also have what we call SpotView. It’s a calendar you and an assistant or your supervisor can quickly access to see what you’re doing at that moment. We usually set it only for that one day. Or perhaps what you did yesterday and what you’re doing tomorrow. Nothing more and nothing to stay on record.”
Jen said, “Then if I can get the password, let’s try each day until something pops up.”
“I’m sorry, Jen. But we can’t risk trying more than once.”
Jen said, “I’m certain they’re shutting down.”
Isaiah said, “Then it appears we’ll have one shot at getting it right.”
Jen said, “Tomorrow morning.”
Isaiah said, “Tomorrow morning.”