Noble rushed into his reception area and looked over toward Doris. “Is Max in the conference room?”
“She just arrived.”
He entered the inner sanctum and closed the door behind him. “What have you got?” he asked in an excited state, hoping it would lead them closer to Simon.
“After you left, the FERC chairman called back. There was another breach, this one at Folsom on the seventh of March. The director from the control center followed the usual procedure and called the DOE. They sent a techie to investigate.”
“So what makes you think it’s Simon?”
“Because at both the Birmingham and Taylor facilities, the systems were shut down for ten minutes. The Folsom system was brought to a halt for close to an hour. I asked the chairman to have the directors from the three control centers send me the photo identification for each of the techies who were dispatched.”
Max used the virtual keyboard and tapped at the various keys. Within seconds, three visitor’s photo badges appeared on the large touchscreen monitor.
Noble was amazed. “So Birmingham and Taylor were hacked by the prisoner you’re about to interrogate at Dugway. He is the one responsible for setting up the command center in the underground encampment—and he’s a former Harvard classmate.” Noble’s shock quickly transformed into anger and he sputtered, “Which means our genius was a mole operating inside the Department of Homeland Security.” Toning down his ire, he said, “Hank mentioned that Baari’s last appointment before stepping down was the Secretary of the DHS.”
Max raised a brow and intoned, “Very interesting!”
Noble shook his head in disgust. “What about the other guy? The one sent to Folsom.”
“He’s legit; a fifteen-year veteran with the agency and a clean record. In fact, I had an interesting conversation with him. He said that the hacker left behind some code. It is characteristic hacker code, used to destabilize the system long enough to raise havoc. Typically, the hacker removes the code before exiting the system leaving no trace. But this time it was left behind.”
“Hmmm.” Noble pondered for a moment, and then theorized, “The Folsom breach occurred after the mole was captured on January 31. And unlike the other breaches, their system was down for almost an hour.”
“The Birmingham and Taylor systems were only down for ten minutes,” Max reiterated.
“That’s because the mole accessed the facilities and the main computer systems directly. He was able to then quickly alter the code.”
“That’s why I think it is Simon. Whatever he’s doing to each of these control centers, he’ll now have to perform himself. Moreover, not being able to access the facility directly, he’ll have to manage his handiwork from the outside and within range of the control center’s network. Simon is either in or heading toward Folsom. That’s our confirmation.”
“First, you need to interrogate the mole. We need more than guesswork.”
“I agree. We need to find out his role; one Simon may have apparently assumed after the mole was captured. This could be our breakthrough.” Max barely got the last word out of her mouth before Noble’s phone rang.
“Agent Burke on line one,” Doris announced.
Noble hit the appropriate button and then the one for the speakerphone. “Burke, I’ve got you on the speaker. Max is with me. What’s happening?”
“I think we have a lead on Simon. Two young males picked up a hitchhiker a mile out of Newcastle and dropped him off in Folsom. They said at the time they had no clue who he was until a week later when they saw Simon’s photo on a TV screen in a local bar.”
“Where exactly did they drop him off?”
“At the bus station.”
“Son-of-a-bitch.” Noble’s voice echoed through the speaker.
“Director, I have a feeling it was intentional. Simon is covering his trail. So I made calls to several of the local used car lots. And we got lucky!”
“Burke, what?” Noble was becoming encouraged. He needed the slightest break.
“The dealer said the customer vaguely resembled Simon’s photo, except he had gray hair and a beard. I’m bringing in a sketch artist to draw up a composite.”
“Any luck finding the guy who finished off Simon’s false IDs?”
“We are still looking for him. You can’t imagine how many counterfeiters set up businesses in and around the Folsom area—and not far from the prison grounds.”
“Keep me posted. With any luck, we might be getting closer. Back to the dealer, what caught his attention?”
“He became suspicious when the customer became impatient, demanding he move the paperwork along, and he paid cash in crisp one hundred dollar bills.”
“And the make and model?”
“He purchased a 1996 White Ford Bronco. The temporary California plate number is J as in Juliett, A as in Alpha, F as in Foxtrot, 4-2-8.”
“Max, bring up the grids,” Noble asked.
“Excuse me, I didn’t hear you.”
“Hold on a sec, Burke. I have Max putting something on the display monitor.”
Max and Noble stared at a map of the country. Earlier, Max had circled the five grids where they had data leading them to conclude the control centers were the targets. Then she crossed off the breached facilities one-by-one. They took a moment to study them as Burke waited patiently on the other end of the line.
“Burke, he’s heading toward the Midwest.”
“Where in the Midwest?”
Noble explained that Max would be heading to Dugway to interview one of the prisoners. “We have evidence that this guy hacked two of the electrical grid control centers and are fairly positive Simon hacked the one in Folsom. We have identified three other centers as targets. One is in Minnesota, one is in Indiana, and one is in Mississauga.”
“In Canada?”
“Yes. Whatever Simon has planned will happen after he crosses the border or perhaps, even leaves North America.”
“Max, bring up a road map and identify the possible routes from Folsom to St. Paul, Minnesota.”
She tapped rapidly until a map appeared with two possible routes.
“Burke, it looks like he could take Route 80 East, but that would put him back in Utah and straight thru Salt Lake City. Risky at best.”
“Can he circumvent Utah?”
“Hold on. He could take Interstate 395 North, then Route 84 Southeast, and pick Route 80 on the other side of Salt Lake City near Ogden and continue east. It would take him roughly thirty-one hours.”
“I suspect he’ll stop along the way, which will slow him down. It’s also possible he’ll only drive at night,” Burke concluded.
“Update the APB and get helicopter support.”
“We’ll find him Director.”
“I want to know the second anyone lays eyes on him!”
“Yes, sir.”
In a calmer tone, Noble said, “Good work Burke. Later.” He hit the button on the speakerphone and disconnected the call.
“We’ll get him,” Max echoed. “But we still need to find out specifically how he’s going to bring the grids down and dismantle his plot. I’m sure I’ll get something out of the mole.” Max tried to sound encouraging, but the skeptical look on Noble’s face remained.
“It’s time for me to have a face-to-face with the president. Go catch your flight.”
“I’ll call you directly after the interrogation. Hang in there boss.” Max touched his shoulder gently on the way out of the conference room.
Noble remained in his chair and stared at the map for a while, until he could no longer ignore the inevitable. He reached for his phone. “Doris, I believe the president is in the house. See if I can get an hour with him today.” Noble knew he did not need to say more. The president understood. Noble only required time when it was for the utmost importance. Throughout this case in particular, he had kept the president informed through a daily missive, for his eyes only. As Noble continued to focus on the map he did not hear the buzzer, but he noticed the blinking red light.
“He can see you at two o’clock.”
It was twelve forty-five. “Thanks Doris. Would you order me the usual and hold all my calls?”
“Right away.” Doris knew his favorite sandwich was turkey on whole wheat with lettuce, tomato, and lots of black pepper. She also knew hold my calls did not include Max, Burke, or Stanton.
With an hour to go, Noble began to jot down specific events that had led him to his bold assessment.