The Delta Chain (30 page)

‘Florida? What
’
s Florida got to do with any of this?
’

‘That
’
s what we all want to know.
’

Kirby called Adam in to his office.
‘
I
’
ve spoken to both Westmeyer and the mayor,
’
the senior sergeant said.
‘
Everything
’
s set up.
’

‘Reaction?
’

‘Well, the mayor
’
s ecstatic, likes the idea. You know Sandy Bingham. He
’
s nervy about the festival and his re-election, wants to keep any more bad news under wraps.
’

‘And Westmeyer?
’

‘Welcomed the help but quite frankly seemed a little cool.
’

‘Doesn
’
t want me snooping about the place,
’
Adam said,
‘
but at the same time doesn
’
t want to give the wrong impression by rejecting help.
’
Adam headed through to his own office, but found his focus on the case continually under threat from his fears about Kate.

Hank Mendelsohn had asked to be present when Walter was shown the photograph. He and Jean were patiently seated in Letterfield
’
s office when Kate and Walter arrived. Letterefield made hasty introductions but before he could show the Florida photo, Kate removed the Landscan III from her carry bag.

‘This is the computer I spoke of,
’
Walter said to his boss.

Jean inched forward, her curiosity piqued.
‘
Mr Letterfield told us you said you had a way to track the hunters.
’

‘Yes. And this is it.
’

‘They killed my son, Kate,
’
Jean said, and for a moment it was as though there was no one else in the room and time had frozen. These two women from different generations and different countries empathised with each other
’
s pain.
‘
And I know you lost your brother to them.
’

The older woman embraced the younger one and then the moment passed and Kate said,
‘
We
’
re going to get them, Jean.
’
She placed the unit on Letterfield
’
s desk, clicked open the lid and keyed in the start up codes.

‘So just how does all this work?
’
asked Hank.

‘This is the prototype for an advanced tracking system, designed for commercial use.
’

They grouped around as the map appeared on the screen. Kate explained how the micro tracking pad worked.

A blip on the screen showed the movement of the boat.

‘But that shows the boat as being on land.
’
Letterfield was confused.
‘
And it
’
s over the border into Queensland.
’

‘They
’
ve covered a hell of a lot of ground since yesterday,
’
Walter said.

‘The tracker is on a section of the deck that Walter believes was removable,
’
Kate told Letterfield,
‘
and which would
’
ve since been loaded onto a truck.
’

‘It
’
s a purpose-built boat,
’
Walter confirmed.
‘
It uses hydraulic systems, and harnesses, to catch the crocs. The same gear could lift the removable section of the deck onto a truck.
’

‘And it would appear,
’
Hank said,
‘
that they
’
re headed directly for the east coast.
’

Walter and Kate verified that the boat in the Everglades photo had the same deck as the one they
’
d encountered.

Letterfield called the Federal Police.

Nervously, Kate made the promised phone call to Adam. She expected he
’
d be furious. Once on the phone, her hyperactivity went into overdrive. At lightning speed she told Adam about the Landscan III. Adam asked a couple of questions but for the most part he just listened, overwhelmed by her manic energy. He did manage, after a while, to say,
‘
Kate, I wish you had thought to phone me…
’

She said that she would explain in full later.

‘I
’
ll fly over there in the morning,
’
Adam said.

‘There
’
s no need. I
’
m fine, and I
’
ll be back in Northern Rocks in a day or so
’

After the call, Adam slammed the phone in an uncharacteristic display of frustration. An image flashed in his mind: his sister, alone and buffeted by wind, moments before being swept into the sea. The one thing most likely to stress Adam was when someone close to him simply wasn
’
t there, without warning, without explanation…why couldn
’
t Kate have understood that? But no, she had to do it all her own way. Adam had avoided close relationships for just that reason, letting his guard down for the first time…and what had happened? The girl he
’
d fallen in love with had gone missing, without warning, without explanation.

And it seemed, without caring.

Despite the early start and the long day so far, Adam was energised. The late afternoon saw him meet with Westmeyer and Donnelly at the Institute.

Adam sensed Westmeyer
’
s upbeat welcome was an act by a seasoned performer. Donnelly, as usual, was cool and tight lipped.

It was left to Tony Collosimo to take Adam on a tour of the premises. Adam had met the security officer previously and remembered him as capable and pragmatic, a man whose eyes took in more than he let on.

Collosimo had spent the earlier part of the day keeping tabs on Melanie Cail. He liked the idea of catching her red handed at something - anything- that exposed her as the saboteur. He
’
d followed her as she
’
d gone to a meeting back at The Express. After a brief stop at her apartment, which had now been bugged, he
’
d followed her back to the Institute. Then he
’
d instructed his security team to play tag, keeping her within sight at all times.

Although he
’
d been there a few times before, Adam had, in fact, seen very little of the Institute.

It appeared laid back on the surface, nestled as it was in picturesque surrounds, but the Institute was actually heavily guarded. A lightweight steel fence encircled the grounds. At strategic points around the perimeter there were sensors and closed circuit television cameras. None of this was obvious to the casual eye. On the interior there was easy access to many of the general offices and labs. However, smart keys were required for entry to the labs, storerooms and executive offices.

The ground floor had a spacious, open feel, with its generous entry lobby and reception/security desks. A mezzanine strip with indoor plants and slanted skylights added to the sense of space. The second and third levels had a closed-in feel, with narrow corridors, cluttered offices and dozens of labs of varying sizes. Some of these had easy walk-through access. Others, deeper within the complex, had security doors that slid back with a sharp hiss when activated by the insertion of a card.

Despite the differences in size and access, Adam found the labs similar: crammed workbenches and computer terminals against an expanse of chrome and glass in neutral shades. Tungsten light bulbs gave an impression of natural daylight.

On the first level, they encountered James Reardon. He was surrounded by screens and hard drives.

He and Adam shook hands.
‘
Awkward question, but how did it go in Sydney?
’

‘Depressing, obviously, but all things told the family held up as well as could be expected.
’

‘I got a call from Kate, as I believe you did-
’

‘Yes.
’
Adam
’
s abrupt reply was a clear sign he didn
’
t want to discuss Kate
’
s secret journey.
‘
How
’
s your investigation into the virus?
’

‘Slower than I
’
d like, because it
’
s not spreading in the usual way. In fact, it
’
s not actually spreading at all.
’

‘Not
spreading,
’
said Collosimo.
‘
But the computer crashes-
’

‘The great stumbling block we
’
ve had was figuring out why, after anti-viral software cleaned the system, that the virus resurfaced. I
’
m now certain the virus
was
being deleted successfully each time by our software.
’

‘So how was it operating?
’
Collosimo asked.

‘I believe the virus was being sent in anew each time it struck, through a “backdoor” created by a hacker. Once having planted the virus, the hacker then closed that backdoor and erased all signs of their presence. It
’
s as though they were never there. But backtracking through the system with some highly sensitive tracking programs, I can detect residual traces of a hacker
’
s activity.
’

‘So you
’
re saying,
’
Adam clarified,
‘
that each time Kate deleted the virus, the hacker returned afterwards, creating a new portal and replanting the virus.
’

‘Yes, although with variations to the code, so that it could initially evade the anti-viral guard.
’

Adam frowned.
‘
Wouldn
’
t that require comprehensive knowledge of the system and its firewalls?
’

‘Yes. And quite possibly, this hacker is someone with insider access. Or it
’
s someone using a “stolen” password to access the system. Either way, once inside, the hacker creates the backdoor, allowing them to re-enter later. Afterwards, they patch over the hole to throw off any sign or suspicion that they were ever there in the first place.
’

‘Okay,
’
said Adam,
‘
and they then repeated that whole process each time the virus reappeared.
’

‘Yes. A deliberate game of cloak and dagger, to fool Kate and the rest of us in to believing the virus hadn
’
t been erased, and was still lurking in the network.
’

‘Stephen Hunter takes his laptop off site every evening,
’
Collosimo said,
‘
and he
’
s a got a thing going on with a reporter. Melanie Cail.
’

‘You suspect her of using his password, on his own laptop, to enter the system?
’
asked Reardon.

‘We suspect her of being the fax saboteur, and if you ask me she
’
s a prime suspect for this as well.
’

‘Can you trace this hacker?
’
Adam asked.

‘Hopefully, yes. As I explained, this hacker covered their digital footprint, but sometimes, by digging deep, we can retrieve that data.
’

‘How?”

‘When a hacker breaks into a system and leaves a “back door” for re-entry,
’
Reardon said,
‘
they do it by leaving a signal code which only they know and to which their own computer is linked. If this file has such a signal, and if I can retrieve it, then that code is the way I trace the hacker. I do it with a DOS prompt, like this…
’
Reardon
’
s fingers flew across the keyboard,
‘…that sends a ping to the network, instructing it to send a reply signal back to the hacker’
s computer. Our signal then bounces back again, bringing with it the hacker
’
s computer
’
s IP number. When and if I have that number, Adam, I hand it to you and you obtain the name and address listed against the IP through police resources.
’

‘When will you know?
’

‘Patience, patience.
’
Reardon knew the art of being both jokey and serious at the same time; he was in his element and loving it.
‘
This is painstaking work and there
’
s a big “if” about whether it will be successful. But I
’
ll call you as soon as I have any answers.
’

‘It
’
s a personal journal,
’
Costas said, flicking through the dog-eared pages of the diary.
‘
The lad must
’
ve been keeping it a long time. And he
’
s quite the writer. It looks as though he hasn
’
t just kept a record of daily events. There
’
s…well, many passages of observations and reflections.
’

‘His own private world,
’
Barbara said,
‘
I believe it
’
s common with children who suffer abuse or isolation.
’

‘Does it say what The Com is?
’
asked Joey.

‘Who-a! It would take ages to read through the whole journal and establish anything like that. And it is, after all, Daniel
’
s private writings, not our business to go rummaging through.
’