Stratagems Read online

  Don plopped himself in Charlie’s chair, a high-backed cushion job which had been special ordered. Kyle sat in the wire-frame guest chair off to the side. Don gave Kyle a passing glance, then flipped on the power. The hum of the fan and spinning hard disk filled the quiet office, the screen coming to life in the pre-boot sequence. It suddenly stopped, prompting for a password.

  Don moved his gaze from the screen back to Kyle. “Password please?”

  Kyle grinned a little before he answered, not really knowing the password. “Sure, ROOJVM7!”

  Don’s attention went back to the screen and keyboard, pecking at the letters with one finger, then hit enter. INVALID PASSWORD flashed briefly with the password prompt appearing again.

  Don turned to Kyle once more. “That’s not it.”

  Kyle smirked. “I’m just messing with you. I don’t know his password.”

  Don was not amused, shaking his head slowly as his gaze fell to the floor, then back to Kyle. “He works for you. It stands to reason you would keep them on file in case someone gets hit by a truck.” Don paused, evidently giving thought to the next words to come flying out of his mouth. “Or blown up.”

  Kyle glared at him. “Don't be an ass.”

  Don shrugged it off. “Are you telling me you don’t know the password?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  “Then how did you propose to get in?”

  Kyle leaned back again, as much as he could, in the stiff chair. He knew exactly how he would get beyond Charlie’s security and wondered if he should share it with this guy. Once access is granted, everything in there would be at risk. Kyle was familiar with some of the files saved on Charlie’s disk, but altogether there were thousands, any one of which held proprietary or sensitive information that could be used in ways never intended. Kyle was sure there were also files of a more personal nature so was hesitant to cooperate. Then again, it was the FBI, if they couldn’t get in, they would likely pick up the machine and carry it off with them. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder if they needed a warrant for that as well.

  Kyle decided, reluctantly, to give in. “I can phone our help desk and have them send a technician.”

  “And?”

  “They’ll pop the case and either set a jumper or a dip switch that shorts, or rather resets, the CMOS. It’s a feature on newer systems, not always documented, however.”

  Don wasn’t impressed, just in a hurry. “Get ‘em over here.”

  Kyle offered one wary glance, then picked up Charlie’s phone and dialed the help desk. It really wasn’t much of one – two people controlled the desk, answered the telephone that rang incessantly, while two or three technicians roamed the building ensuring everyone’s solitaire worked sufficiently. Kyle recognized the voice on the other end as Chris Dutton, told her to get a technician up to Charlie’s cube, and when she said it would be an hour or two, he let her know the FBI would be right over to expedite matters. Chris immediately changed her tune, knowing it was the truth. Kyle was certain the news of the FBI visit must have hit everyone by now. She said someone would be up in a few minutes.

  Kyle sat, staring at Don who was panning his vision around the office. Kyle broke the silence. “So, where are you from?” He had asked once before and was snubbed, and frankly wanted to see just how long Don would ignore him.

  Don’s gaze finally rested back on Kyle. “Phoenix.”

  “We have an office there,” Kyle added.

  “That’s nice.”

  “I’ve been there a few times. Can’t stand the heat, though. Or the traffic. Actually, I hate sitting in the traffic in the heat.” Don didn’t flinch or react in any way. Kyle smiled on the inside; he knew it irritated him. Don’s expression told it all. “I hate the drinking water, too. Can’t stand it. How ‘bout you, Don?”

  “Either way.”

  “Have you been with the FBI long, Don?”

  “A while.”

  “You like it?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  Kyle smiled. “What are you really after here?”

  Don blinked rapidly a few times, caught off guard. “Beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me. What is it you’re really looking for?”

  “Clues,” Don said, his sharp tone returning.

  “If you think Charlie’s into drugs, I doubt if he uploaded them to his computer. It clogs the read-write heads, you know.”

  Don folded his arms. “Now who's being a smart ass.”

  Kyle leaned forward, glaring at him. “Actually, I just called you an ass, but never said anything about being smart. Charlie was my friend, and yesterday he was murdered in front of his family. So now today you’re here accusing him of doing drugs or some other crap, like he deserved to die or something. And you expect me to sit and pretend it’s another day at the office?”

  Don seemed to hold his temper. “I’m doing my job.”

  “Fine. I just don’t think you’re being honest. I think you’re looking for something else.”

  Don sat in Charlie’s chair, not saying another word. Kyle kept his gaze on him as long as he could, knowing he was right. They weren’t looking for drugs or clues to drugs. Even if Charlie were into something illegal, he wouldn’t have a file on his system called ‘drugs-dot-doc’ or ‘FBI please look in here-dot-doc.’ Besides, there was something about Agent Don Metzgar that didn’t set right. Kyle wasn’t sure what is was – maybe his attitude, perhaps the harsh tone of his voice, or maybe that he came off friendly up front then changed in mid-stream.

  A moment later Tim Iverson, the most senior technician, stepped into Charlie’s cube, the muscle-bound agent at his side. Don stood and waited for Kyle to explain the situation and give the orders.

  Kyle kept his seat, looking up at Tim. He didn’t have to look too high because Tim was short, wiry, full of energy and had long since lost the majority of his hair. “You heard about Charlie?”

  Tim’s composure turned somber. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “The FBI is here to investigate and need access to his computer.”

  Tim grinned. “Don’t tell me. CMOS password, right?”

  Kyle nodded.

  “Give me a second.”

  Tim passed between Kyle and Don, kneeling on the floor and pulling the CPU from under the desk. He snatched a small pen-like screwdriver from his shirt pocket and in a matter of seconds had the case off and was fiddling inside with the motherboard. Something clicked. Kyle figured it was a dipswitch being set. Tim waited a few agonizing moments while everyone looked, then flipped the switch back again. Soon he had the cover back on and the unit shoved under the desk. He reached over and flipped the power switch. Once again, the fan and CPU hummed to life. This time the pre-boot sequence initialized with the default values, auto-recognized the hard disk, and the familiar startup message appeared in the upper left corner.

  Don quickly reached for the keyboard and struck the F8 key. A menu appeared on the screen and Don selected the safe mode, command prompt only option. He had gained access to Charlie’s hard drive.

  Don turned to the other agent, the one assigned to guard the yellow tapeline. “Please escort Kyle back to the conference room.”

  Kyle sat up straight. “What?”

  Don’s tone was firm. “I no longer need your services.”

  Kyle stood. “I’m the manager here. I have to know what you’re doing with our equipment and our data.”

  “Not really,” Don said. “This is an official investigation, and any information we provide to you is on a need-to-know basis. Naturally, if we turn up anything that leads to the person, or persons, responsible for your friend’s death, you will be notified in due course. However, for now, your presence is not required.”

  “You’re full of crap!”

  Don remained quiet, casting his eyes toward another agent who was now in Charlie’s office next to Kyle. Kyle cast Don one final dirty look before leaving. The last thing he heard was Don ordering Tim to stay put for
a while.

  The other FBI agent copied Don’s attitude. He was cold and silent all the way back to the conference room, making sure Kyle was inside before closing the door and returning to his post.

  Kyle walked to the table where Robert was seated. He learned the feds had asked Robert fewer questions than Kyle, mostly about his relationship with Charlie, and asked if Charlie had behaved differently in recent months. Several interviews had already been conducted by the time Kyle returned. He assumed the FBI would be thorough and methodical, asking dozens of questions, some of them identical in order to trip people up, eating up the day with their interrogations. Instead, it was going like a freight train, which he didn’t mind in the least. Work was piling up with no relief in sight. Moreover, with Charlie gone, more overtime was just around the corner. Yet, no matter what they did, nothing would bring Charlie back.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A new FBI agent strolled into the conference room at a quarter ‘til nine. Kyle caught his name as he introduced himself to one of their security staff – Agent Remos Kadner. Kyle glanced up at him, still sitting next to Marie as the day wore on, worries of their work sitting idly on their desks occupying his thoughts, overshadowed by thoughts of Charlie, Beth, and the kids. Even so, they had schedules to keep, deadlines looming, and with Charlie out of the picture things weren’t getting any better soon. It was obvious the FBI had no consideration for this, and Kyle intended more than once to get out of his seat and give Agent Jason Slocum a piece of his mind, but didn’t. He stayed put and bided his time. His interrogation lasted the longest, Robert’s took only seven minutes, and the rest of the staff about five minutes apiece. By the time the new guy, Kadner, arrived, they had completed a total of eight cross-examinations.

  Kadner was definitely in a hurry. He entered the phone room where Jason was interrogating Jeff Baca without the assistance of Agent Metzgar. Metzgar hadn’t returned from Charlie’s PC, nor had his sidekick whom Kyle non-affectionately nicknamed 'Agent Conan.' He was obviously the hired muscle and didn’t have much wit about him.

  The door was closed briefly, then opened as Jeff strolled out and took a seat next to Lawrence, then closed again, leaving the two other agents alone in the room. A few moments later, Jason stuck his head out and called for Kyle, who obliged.

  Jason entered the room and closed the door again, but held tight to the door knob, ready to dash out. “Something’s come up and we have to leave.”

  “So soon?”

  Jason ignored the sarcasm. “I think we have enough. All we ask is that your team not to discuss this with anyone.”

  Kyle couldn’t prevent a stray smirk from escaping. “I can tell ‘em, but don’t hold your breath.”

  Again, Jason ignored Kyle’s response. “If we have anything else, we’ll let you know.”

  “Fine.”

  Jason opened the door and soon he and Kadner were history. The designated security officer followed them out of the conference area as Kyle turned to his team. It had been a long time since they had all been in the same room together. Even at regular meetings, there was always someone missing. Then he thought of Charlie.

  “The feds are leaving and have requested we not talk about this,” Kyle said.

  Robert was the first to fire off a question. “What does this have to do with Charlie?”

  Kyle thought for a second. Their interviews probably had covered individual relationships with Charlie, but it was unlikely any details or suppositions were offered on the cause of his death, or rather, those who caused his death.

  “They’re grasping at straws,” Kyle simply said. “They have to cover all ground to find out who did it.”

  “Do they think one of us is involved?” Rene asked, her eyes red and puffy, Lawrence at her side ready to be of assistance at a moment’s notice.

  “I don’t think so,” Kyle explained. “I think it’s routine.”

  “Why the FBI?” The question came from Jeff, the last to be drilled by Jason.

  “The nature of our business, I guess. And the way Charlie’s house was broken into.” Kyle didn’t want any more questions. “I think we should get back to work and try and concentrate on doing our jobs. I’ll find out when the funeral services are and let y’all know. And yes, we can all leave work to attend, with pay.”

  Everyone rose and filed out, clearly ignoring the FBI’s request and talking amongst themselves in low tones, Charlie clearly the subject of discussion. Kyle didn’t care. If they talked, maybe something would be discovered. It also had the possibility of being therapeutic. He knew today would not be a productive day for any of them.

  He and Robert walked down the hall together, not a word passing between them. Kyle was tired of questions and Robert, having trained with Charlie for the past seven months, felt a loss almost as perceptible as Kyle’s. The yellow tape had been removed and there was no sign of FBI agents anywhere.

  After Kyle sat down in his office, it took a while to collect his thoughts. Leaning back in his chair, he waited for his computer to power up, closed his eyes and wondered how he would get through the day. He would have to call Beth, probably pass around a card and send some flowers, maybe a couple of presents for the kids. Kyle reminisced about his own father and the way he felt after his father died, but that was years in the past, when he was only 12.

  Kyle slowly opened his eyes.

  It took him a while for the message on the screen to register. ‘Operating system not found’. He flipped the power off and then on and waited once more, but the same message returned. The day was not going well.

  He got on the phone and ordered the helpdesk rep to have Tim in his office within the next five minutes, promising to send the FBI down there and have them drag him up if necessary. He figured whoever was on the other end hadn’t yet heard of the FBI’s departure. Gossip spread fast at Allied, but not that fast.

  Tim appeared in the doorway with two minutes to spare.

  Kyle rose from his chair and offered it to Tim. They had been through the scenario many times before, their routine down cold. Kyle would get up, relinquish his captain’s chair to Tim, who would do his magic and within a few minutes everything would once again be working like it always had.

  Tim looked at the screen. “Doesn’t look good. I wonder if the FBI guy did something?”

  Kyle placed both palms on his desk, leaning close to Tim. “What?”

  “The FBI guy,” Tim repeated. “I had to let him in here with my master key. I booted your system and he told me to leave. There was no password on it, so...”

  “Why didn’t you get me?” Kyle demanded, irritated.

  “He didn’t let me. Said it was government business and he would leave everything like it was.”

  Kyle stood, fuming. “Come with me.”

  Kyle walked out the door with Tim trailing behind. They entered Charlie’s cube and Kyle instructed Tim to boot it up once again. As Kyle feared, the same ‘Operating system not found’ message appeared. The FBI hadn’t been looking for clues or data. It had been a search and destroy mission.

  “Can you recover?” he asked.

  Tim shrugged. “Not sure. I can tell you if it was intentional or not.”

  “I think that’s rather obvious, don’t you?”

  Tim nodded.

  “What happened after I left?”

  “The FBI guy...”

  “Don Metzgar?”

  “Yeah, Don. He had me power up Charlie’s system, then told me to do yours as well. As I was leaving, he pulled a floppy disk from his pocket and put it in. I figured he was gonna copy files or something.”

  “Did he have you do anyone else’s?”

  Tim shook his head. “No. No one.”

  Kyle thought for a second. “Restore both systems from the network.”

  Tim hesitated, then said, "I would, but the network's down right now. It's one of those days."

  Kyle sighed, already feeling drained. "Just do it when it comes back up."

  ___
_________

  Kyle arrived at Kurt Brady’s office a few minutes after ten. As head of security, the office was much larger than Kyle's, surrounded by full-length walls and lacked windows, in any direction. If Kyle had to choose, windows would win every time. Kurt was more than mildly paranoid and preferred the invulnerability of an enclosed space. The door was one of few in the building made of solid wood with double locks.

  His secretary, Nancy something-or-other, smiled at Kyle as he walked into the outer office, motioning him to sit in an area that had been haphazardly thrown together with leftover furnishings. Kurt would be a few minutes. Kyle looked behind her. The large wood door was closed, no sound permeating to the outside. That was to be expected. Kurt was a stickler for security, even among his own.

  Soon the door opened and Kurt appeared. He was rather tall with light brown hair that had been receding for the past few years. He was one of the few who wore a tie to work every day. No uniform or sidearm, but he dressed well, looking more like an executive than a security professional. At noon he would shed the tie, shirt, slacks and dress shoes for shorts and a pair of sneakers, taking a five-mile run in lieu of lunch. It had been his trademark for many years, rain or shine, although Albuquerque was mostly shine all year-round.

  “Come in.”

  Kyle rose and entered the large office as Kurt closed the door and led him to one of the three chairs parked in front of his large oak desk. The furniture was in much better condition than what was in the outer office.

  “I’m not surprised to see you,” he said, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “Gum?” Kurt lifted a small bowl filled with green sticks of Double Mint. Kyle accepted one, unwrapped it and savored the flavor.

  Kurt continued. “I was just informed about the FBI visit.”

  “They were a strange bunch,” Kyle said.

  Kurt leaned back in his chair. “I’ve dealt with agents before. They do things a bit different, but then again, they worry about things we don’t. Many simply don’t trust anyone, sometimes with good reason.”

  “This was different.”

  Kurt took a stick of gum, taking several small bites before disappearing in his mouth. “I’m sorry about Charlie.”