Come and Find Me A Novel of Suspense - By Hallie Ephron Page 0,5
The computer monitor went blank, and the image of the virtual room that had been on the screen reappeared, projected across the upper half of the blank wall opposite them.
Ashley’s mouth fell open. “Wow.”
“Shh,” Diana said, suppressing a smile. She felt a little like the first time she had ridden a two-wheeler, zooming past Ashley, who watched from astride her Hot Wheels. Her glee had been short-lived. A week later, Ashley was riding a two-wheeler, too, self-taught.
Diana hooked on her earpiece and typed in some coordinates. Moments later the image of her office dissolved, replaced by MedLogic’s chrome-and-glass corporate building. A box appeared in the corner of the screen and she typed in the pass code, then swiped her index finger across the fingerprint reader on the side of her keyboard. A bell sounded.
“Nadia Varata,” Diana said into the microphone.
The building exterior dissolved and MedLogic’s conference room materialized around Nadia. Projected across a full wall, the replica of a corporate conference room, complete with a long table and a white board, felt like an extension of Diana’s office.
The suited male avatar, standing beside a window with Diana’s slide show already running in it, belonged to Jake. He even looked like Jake, or at least the way Jake had looked when Diana had last seen him in the flesh, more than six months earlier when he’d been slim with thick, reddish hair that grew like straw thatch, and had a fondness for John Lennon wire rims.
Five other avatars, all belonging to employees of MedLogic, sat at the conference table. Diana recognized the CFO Michael Courtemanche and head of security Anish Chander. She’d met them at previous meetings. Both wore suits and ties. Jake had already started to run Diana’s presentation.
“This is surreal,” Ashley whispered. “Can they see the real us?”
Diana shook her head and shushed her. She clicked on her virtual briefcase and dropped it onto the conference table. Then she sat Nadia in a chair.
Jake continued delivering the presentation. “And here’s the inventory showing every storage device that’s been connected to your back-end systems for the last three months,” said Jake. The presentation showed a long list of devices and serial numbers.
For all Diana knew, Jake could have been anywhere in the world where he could get a wireless connection with enough bandwidth to run OtherWorld. As he continued, summarizing the security analysis they’d done, a text message popped to the top of her queue.
JAKE: YOK?
Yes, she was fine, she texted back. Just late.
Jake’s avatar explained how they’d methodically traced every connection until they’d discovered a laptop with a data file that had no business being on its hard drive. The laptop also had a little program that automatically copied its files to another location out on the Internet.
Diana typed:
NADIA: T4 TO
Thanks for taking over.
Back came:
J: NO BD
Actually, it was a big deal. She shouldn’t have been so late that he had to fill in for her. It was unprofessional.
The slide presentation was replaced by a window with video that showed the real Jake sitting opposite the unfortunate employee who owned the laptop with the suspect files. The poor woman—the name SONYA LOCHTE floated briefly on the screen and then disappeared—looked to be barely out of her mid-twenties. She had wispy pale blond hair, down to her shoulders, perspiration glistening on her forehead, and a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes.
“I . . . On my computer?” Ms. Lochte touched her neck. Pink streaks ran up her pale throat, from crisp white shirt collar to her chin. “I’m in marketing. You tell me there’s files on my computer that shouldn’t be there? I believe you. But honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Marketing.” Diana recognized the voice and the derisive snort that followed. An empty voice balloon appeared over the head of CFO Michael Courtemanche’s avatar. Diana wondered if in real life the guy had hair like Matthew McConaughey too.
“It’s entirely likely that she has no idea what happened,” Diana said, a voice balloon appearing over Nadia’s head. Outside attackers often probed until they found a vulnerable entry point, poked a hole, and then exploited it low and slow without anyone being the wiser.
“We can’t afford employees in any department who don’t understand security protocol.” Courtemanche again. Diana didn’t bother to point out that it was doubtful that any of their security protocols would have prevented this particular incursion. “We’ve confiscated her computer and locked her out of the system. At least it was an easy fix.”