Stratagems Page 9

Kyle backed away, towards the bathroom door. “Look, go ahead and start, I’ll be right up.”

  The elevator door opened and Tim entered. Rudy stood his ground, looking directly at Kyle.

  “What, you want to go to the bathroom with me, too?” Kyle asked.

  “Make it quick,” Rudy demanded, and disappeared into the elevator.

  Kyle stood at the door until he saw the UL light come on, which indicated they were now on the upper level. He turned and ran back the way they had come, searching the cubes once more, peering into each as he jogged down the aisle. One after another was empty, everyone at lunch. He completed the first aisle, the one Tim’s office was on, and started along the second. He got lucky on the third office to the left. Pam Martin was sitting at her desk, eating lunch out of a brown paper bag, her nose buried in a large textbook.

  She looked up when Kyle entered. “Hello.” She placed a marker between the pages of her book, closing it.

  Kyle pulled the guest chair close to hers, quickly sitting down next to her. “I need a favor.”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I check my e-mail from here?”

  Pam nodded. “Of course. You won’t see any mail in your personal folders, because that resides on your hard drive. But anything recent will still be sitting in the network queue.”

  “Can we set up a profile for me on your system?”

  “Not a problem,” she said, turning her chair around, her hands flying over the keyboard as she typed. “Why the big rush?”

  “Just a hunch. Can we keep this between us?”

  She looked at him and smiled. Pam was always nice and accommodating. She was a five-foot four-inch blonde who possessed a smile that drew the attention of every guy in the building.

  “Okay,” she agreed, “between us.”

  “Gimme your login ID,” she said, her hands hovering above the keys, waiting for Kyle.

  He spelled it out, letter by letter. “K-R-A-N-D-A-L-L.”

  A few mouse clicks, a few more keystrokes, then she pushed her chair aside. “Now enter your password.”

  Kyle leaned over and typed in 4$ECUR1TY at the password prompt. The screen disappeared, replaced by an inbox. Mail started dropping in place. There were seven messages in all – three from software vendors that had been auto-generated in the middle of the night. The electronic equivalent of junk mail. He selected those three and clicked DELETE. Another was from Jacqueline, his youngest sister and the only other in his family who knew how to use a computer to any significant degree.

  He turned to Pam. “If I just leave this in the mailbox, will it download when I log in from upstairs?”

  “Yeah, if you have personal folders set up and you choose the option to save your mail locally. The mail you’re seeing now is on the server.”

  “If I delete a message now, off the server, it won’t show up when I go retrieve it later from my computer?”

  “Right.”

  “Good.”

  Kyle scanned down the list and found what he hoped. One e-mail from Charlie, with an attachment. He double-clicked and it opened before his eyes.

  “Do you have a floppy disk?” he asked.

  She turned, reached over her desk to a box tucked in the far corner, pulled out a three-and-a-half-inch floppy and handed it to Kyle. He put it in the drive and saved the e-mail message, followed by the attachment. It must have been large because it took several seconds, over a high bandwidth line, to save it. He was afraid it wouldn’t all fit at first, but the screen came back and the drive stopped spinning. He removed the disk and put it in his shirt pocket.

  Kyle highlighted Charlie’s e-mail, holding the SHIFT key down, and selected DELETE. It vanished from the screen. He then clicked on File, Exit and the e-mail window disappeared, replaced by the wallpaper of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet kissing on the bow of Titanic.

  Kyle leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You’re a sweetheart.”

  “Don’t forget it,” she said, opening her book once again.

  Kyle hurried back to the elevator, making sure he was the only one inside. The doors closed, and he found himself alone, looking up. The elevator had a drop-down ceiling with six panels, two solid, both in the front and back, and two light panels occupying the middle. Kyle stood on his toes, pushing one of the solid panels upward. It lifted easily from the wire frame. He removed the floppy with his free hand and slipped it on top of the solid panel next to the one he was supporting, then set it back into place. He wasn’t sure if they would search him, but with Rudy he didn’t want to take chances. He was anxious to see what Charlie had mailed, but refused to simply hand it over to the FBI. If Charlie had been involved in something, then he wanted to know first.

  The doors opened and Kyle stepped out, stopping abruptly. Rudy Kain was standing in the doorway, blocking his path.

  “Get lost, did you?”

  Kyle caught his breath, holding back the urge to look up at the elevator’s ceiling to make sure everything was in place. A stupid move like that would surely give him away, perhaps what Rudy was hoping would happen. “Not at all. Shall we?”

  Rudy stepped aside to let Kyle lead him down the hall to his office where they would sit at his computer to watch all the new e-mail being downloaded from the server.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dwight checked his watch again. Eleven forty-five. All of Santiago’s associates would now be in flight and at least a hundred miles from Albuquerque, and that thought alone gave him comfort. They were the only link anyone could trace back to him, and now they were history.

  The phone rang a few minutes later and he had a pretty good idea who it was, even before he answered. He had been anticipating the call from Rudy Kain ever since Santiago left to meet with Ian Reyes and Antonio Delany about keeping eyes and ears on Kyle Randall. The entire Charlie affair had not been authorized by Rudy, and Dwight never intended to bring him in for consultation. If he had, Rudy would’ve made vain threats of pulling the money which he doled out in smaller and smaller amounts as the end of the “project” neared. Dwight often wondered whom Rudy reported to, but never asked, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer anyway. Based on the all the clandestine phone calls, Dwight was sure no one else at the regional office was involved. Dwight suspected there was at least half-a-million still at Rudy’s disposal, and possibly more if something unexpected happened.

  “This is Dwight.”

  “Rudy Kain.”

  Dwight’s suspicion was confirmed. “I was expecting your call.”

  “Maybe you can tell me what the hell’s going on?”

  “I could, but perhaps we should meet in person.”

  “No. Too much has happened to do that now. Just tell me.”

  Dwight eased back in his chair, almost enjoying the tension he sensed in Rudy’s voice. “Our source mentioned someone was becoming suspicious, and as it turns out, it was Charlie. We started looking in on him, that’s all.”

  “And now he’s dead and you’re about to have every FBI agent in the southwest down here.”

  “We simply wanted to intimidate him. He panicked, pulled a gun and fired the first shot, so my men defended themselves.” Dwight left out the fact that Charlie had ripped a .45 into his own computer. Either way, it was still self-defense.

  “What did he know?”

  “We’re not sure. We suspect he found our code, probably by accident. It stands to reason since he was the most familiar with the systems at Allied. It’s still surprising, though.”

  There was silence on the other end as Dwight waited. Rudy finally collected his words. “No one was supposed to get hurt, much less killed.”

  “I already explained that.”

  “Who were those men you sent posing as FBI agents?”

  “Associates. We had to be sure no one else knew anything. Actually, I think we’re okay.”

  Dwight could hear a frantic chuckle on the other end. “Okay? You think we’re okay? Why didn’t you just show up and burn the place do
wn or maybe set off some flares. It probably would’ve been less conspicuous.”

  “Perhaps,” Dwight said smugly.

  Rudy was a middleman, and not a very good one. Dwight figured that much early on. Long ago, in another life, he’d actually worked with Rudy Kain for a brief period of time. Dwight had once been with the Bureau, but had the unfortunate luck getting caught skimming money when he thought no one was looking. He received some support from those who knew and liked him, but was no longer a member of the team and possessed a stigma which no agent wanted to be associated with, until a little over a year ago when Rudy approached him with a proposition. Of course, back in those days, his name hadn’t been Dwight, either.

  “Let me tell you something, Dwight, another stunt like this and you’re out.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dwight answered calmly. “It’s less than a month away and too late for anyone to jump ship. It’ll take the FBI that long just to file the report of what happened, much less learn anything of value.”

  “If I remember correctly, the last time you underestimated the FBI you lost your job and had to pay a hefty fine.”

  It was a cheap shot, and that was okay with Dwight. Rudy earned it. “Listen, I did what I had to do to make sure we see this to the end. The men who showed up this morning are no longer in town. We’ve created enough damage and confusion to keep the FBI busy for three months, and we need only one.”

  “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

  Dwight smiled. “I also put a tail on Kyle this morning.”

  “Shit, Dwight, don’t you think we – they – just might piece all this together?” Rudy had to correct himself because he was actually part of ‘they.’ He, more than anyone else, was walking a thin line, and Dwight knew it.

  “Oh, probably. Then we’ll throw another wrench in the works.”

  Rudy was silent, absorbing the newfound authority Dwight was wielding casually about. “If you want final payment, I suggest you go through me the next time you want to take matters into your own hands.”

  It was time to change the subject. “Are you at Allied now?” Dwight asked.

  “Yeah. I’m here. Just got through reading Kyle Randall’s e-mail and data files.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing.”

  “There’s something else,” Dwight explained. “We think Charlie communicated something electronically before his accident yesterday – fax, e-mail, something. We thought perhaps to Kyle.”

  “If he did, it wasn’t through electronic mail, at least not the corporate e-mail. We searched Charlie’s office and found contraband. Do I have you to thank for that?”

  “It was a diversion, nothing more. What about Kyle?”

  “Went through his office, too. Nothing.”

  Dwight sat up straight. “Nothing?”

  “Absolutely nothing. Why?”

  “We planted a much smaller amount in one of the drawers. Just enough so the FBI would become suspicious.”

  Dwight could hear a weary sigh through the earpiece.

  “Don’t you think you’re getting just a little absurd?”

  “I really don’t care what the FBI thinks. They can believe Kyle is a drug dealer along with his buddy Charlie, or they can think it was planted. As long as the waters are muddied, I’m happy.”

  “I know I asked this before,” Rudy said, “but is there anything else you’re not telling me?”

  Dwight had to smile. There was actually a lot he wasn’t divulging, and never would. Besides, Rudy would know soon enough. “That’s it. Aside from trying to cover our tracks, everything is going as planned.”

  “No more slip ups,” Rudy ordered. “I have to explain all this, and I don’t think I can.”

  “Kyle Randall’s going to be the problem,” Dwight informed him.

  “I figured that out right away. Don’t do anything stupid, like kill him.”

  “Rudy, Rudy. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “We’ll handle Kyle, okay?”

  “Fine,” Dwight said. “Anything else?”

  “You said you planted something in Kyle’s office?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t have it searched again. It would be too obvious.”

  “Then leave it alone. No harm done. Who knows, maybe someone at Allied will stumble on it.”

  “Maybe,” Rudy agreed. “I have your word – no more independent operations?”

  “You have my word.”

  “I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

  Dwight hung up the phone. It had gone better than he expected. He wasn’t sure who was pulling Rudy’s strings on the other side, but that’s where the money flowed. Rudy was simply caught in the middle, knowing the identities of each and keeping it to himself, even from his own boss. He was in as deep as Dwight, and Dwight knew it, which he figured could be useful when the time came.

  Dwight heard the door slam inside the warehouse, Santiago appearing in the doorway. It was almost time for lunch and they often frequented the Rio Grande Yacht Club, more for Dwight’s sake than Santiago. Santiago’s idea of a nice lunch was Casa de Benavidez over on Fourth Street, but Dwight couldn’t handle it. The chili stayed with him throughout the day, and that was one thing he did not want on top of everything else. Besides, the Yacht Club was within walking distance.

  “You ready?” Santiago asked.

  Dwight stood, nodding. “Is everything taken care of?”

  “Antonio should be at Kyle’s house right now. If there’s an alarm, he said he might not be able to do it today.”

  “How ‘bout Ian?”

  “He’ll be riding Kyle’s tail by this evening. He said he couldn’t think of anything as boring as following a computer programmer.”

  Dwight smiled. “I think I’ll have the New York Steak today.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kyle sat motionless in his office, staring at the small plastic bag cupped in his hands. He had never used drugs, but knew that's what he was holding. He had simply been putting his office back together after the first FBI investigation when it slipped out from under his drawer, dropping to the floor in front of him. Agent Rudy Kain had already gone, empty handed, when the bag appeared from nowhere.

  He stuffed the bag in the front pocket of his jeans and quickly straightened the rest of his office. The computer was up and running, thanks to Tim, and he had only lost two files that hadn’t made it to the backup tape. Not a big deal, especially given that he had a pocket full of contraband that could end his career in a heartbeat, and someone had planted it there for a reason.

  Kyle left his office, walked between and glanced into the cubes of his teammates. No one was around. He quietly strolled down the hall and realized his department was the only one where nothing was happening. He could see other teams working as he passed, heads bobbing above the low walls, watching him intently as he walked past. News already spread that the first FBI agents really weren’t FBI agents, and that the real thing had arrived and his team was being questioned once more. They learned about Charlie as well, so Kyle hoped sympathy would influence other employees from being judgmental about some made-up conspiracy taking place over in the Software Applications Team, his team. He had been through enough for one day.

  He entered the conference room and found his team finishing off the pizza. There was no sign of any lingering federal agents.

  Rene stood, holding a flimsy paper plate with two slices of pepperoni sitting on top. “We saved you some.”

  “Thanks,” Kyle said, taking a slice and sitting down next to Rene, Lawrence perched near her in a chair on the opposite side.

  When he first walked into the room there had been a gentle murmur of conversation taking place, but now it was deathly quiet, all eyes once again focused on him. He looked around at the team members gathered in the large conference area, paper plates and discarded pizza crust scattered among empty soda cans.

  “Quite a day,” Kyle said.

  “We dec
ided to stick together until they all left,” Robert explained.

  Kyle took a bite, surprised at how hungry he’d become in the last hour. “Good idea. It’s been a rough morning.”

  “What happens now?” Marie asked, handing Kyle a cold Dr. Pepper along with his Visa card and a receipt.

  He opened the can and took a refreshing swallow. “If any one of you want to go home for the rest of the day, it’s fine by me. With pay, of course. We can pick back up tomorrow. I don't imagine we'd get too much done today anyhow.” His original anxiousness to get work done was replaced by exhaustion.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Marie corrected.

  “I know. Just so you don’t hear it anywhere else, the FBI found a stash of drugs in Charlie’s office.”

  A few quiet, surprised gasps rose from the team.

  “Charlie didn’t do drugs,” Jeff said.

  Kyle was quick to respond. “I know. It was planted by the first group of men.”

  “Who were they?” Robert inquired.

  Kyle took another bite followed by a cool sip. “No one knows, but I’m sure they had something to do with Charlie’s death, which brings up another subject. If this could happen to Charlie, it could happen to any one of us. I don’t want to startle y’all, but when you go home you might check your rearview mirror once in a while. Until we know why this happened, we need to be cautious. If you do see someone, don’t panic. It just might be the real FBI.”

  “What do you think they were after?” Robert asked. Besides Charlie, Robert was the most ambitious and aggressive employee on his team. He pursued the unknown until it was known, whether a computer bug or something more serious, like the senseless murder of a friend.

  “I don’t have a clue. Perhaps Charlie didn’t either. Whenever I find anything, I’ll be sure to tell you guys.”

  “Kyle?” Rene’s voice was soft, and she was almost whispering to him, but everyone seemed to hear.

  “Yeah?”

  “How’s Beth and the kids?”

  “Pretty shaken up. She’s staying with her parents.”

  Rene started to cry.

  Henry Perez raised his hand.