Net Force - Tom Clancy [79]
Alex?
Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just passing by, on my way to the cafeteria. Ill see you at the meeting.
He turned and walked away. Tonis personal life was her own. Period. End of story. He had enough to worry about on his own, thank you.
25
Saturday, October 2nd, 1 p.m. Miami Beach
In the Miami identity, she had established that she was a recreational runner. Even though this was not something she particularly enjoyed, it was part of her cover, so she did it. Here, it was as much a part of her as the fake name and background. Oh, shed never run a marathon, shed say if anybody asked, but maybe a 20K someday, when she got into shape
Today, when Mora Sullivan came in from her noon run-six miles, the last two in a pouring subtropical thunderstorm-she found her computer flashing its warning-light signal.
The house alarm diodes were all green; nobody had come into the building itself. The computer warning was due to an electronic break-in-or somebody trying to.
She blotted her face and hair with the thick towel she had left by the door. It rained almost every other day here in the summer, and while hurricane season was pretty much over, early October had its share of storms. She stripped off her wet shoes and socks, dropped the fanny pack with the plastic and pretty much waterproof Glock nine in it; she peeled the spandex bra and pants off, and finished toweling herself mostly dry before she started for the computer.
She put the towel on the office chair, sat naked upon the damp terrycloth and said, Security program, log on.
The voxax brought the log up on-screen. Given her choice, Sullivan preferred real-time computer work; she didnt much care for VR, since it meant she had to effectively blind and deafen herself to ride the net.
She scanned the program. Somebody had probed at the Selkies com circuit. They had only gotten a couple of bounces into the maze shed constructed before theyd lost the signal, but even that was something of a surprise. Whoever had tried it was pretty good, professional-class.
She hoped they werent good enough to spot the leeches shed left for potential invaders.
Security, backtrack the intruder.
A series of numbers and letters flashed on the screen, followed by a map. Arcing, bright blue lines lit as the leech program fed the intruders initial signal back to her computer through the series of firewalls and shunts. When it reached New York City, the dot representing the intruder pulsed a bright light, and an electronic address lit and also pulsed red underneath the dot.
So the invader was good, but not great. The leech had been undetected. Given what she had paid for the leeches, that was not a big surprise.
Security, reverse directory, e-mail unabridged, crosscheck this address.
More letter-and-number crawl sped up the screen.
A name flashed: Ruark Electronic Services, Inc.
Security, give me the names of the corporation officers and any holding companies for Ruark Electronic Services, Inc.
A moment passed. A list of names appeared. Heloise Camden Ruark, President and Chief Executive Officer; Richard Ruark, Vice-President; Mary Beth Campbell, Treasurer. A public company, incorporated in the state of Delaware, June 2005, blah, blah, blah-
Well, well, well. And look here, the owner of seventy-five percent of the outstanding shares was something called Electronic Enterprises Group, which itself just happened to be-
-a wholly owned subsidiary of Genaloni Industries.
Sullivan leaned back and stared at the screen. So. Genaloni was trying to find her. She nodded. To be expected. The man wore a thin veneer of respectability, but under it, he was a thug. To a man like Genaloni, the response to a threat, whether real or imagined, was to burn all the bridges on any road leading to his castle, and then stand by the pots of boiling lead to cook anybody who might get past the rivers. Never use a needle when there was a boulder available. Genaloni would have heard about the attempt on her targets life. And since the target had seen her as