Deadly Little Secrets Page 0,46
looked confused, then irritated. “Oh, him. He’s a programmer. Don’t know why he came up. He might have thought he could help, I guess.”
“It doesn’t matter, then.” Pretzky focused on the other man. “Well, Agent Talmadge, why do you say it’s Georgia?” Pretzky demanded, and the habitual foot-tapping began. Ana wanted to roll her eyes, but it just took too much energy. She felt like she’d been run over.
“Um, it’s got this series here?” he indicated the middle set of numbers. “That’s usually um, one of the groups that operates in Georgia. They don’t have their own satellite? So, um, they bounce off a particular one all the time. Kinda stupid, really.”
Monroe made as if to elbow him again, but Ana sat forward, because she’d decided it was better to cut these guys some slack. She needed them. “They’re probably all bounces though, Special Agent Pretzky.” She used Pretzky’s formal title in front of the geeks. “Anyone who’s competent enough to hack us, just us and not the whole database? They’re not going to be pinpointed by their ISP or satellite. Right, gentlemen?”
She directed the question to Monroe and Talmadge, wanting everyone to stop gawking at her. She just wanted to go home. Now.
She wanted to forget that someone had tried to put a bullet in her head. A cold feeling of dread crept over her again, and she could feel panic rising up to shake her.
“Burton? You okay?” Pretzky’s sharp inquiry cut into her funk.
“Yeah, sure. I’m okay,” Ana said. “Just freakin’ a bit over getting shot at. Sorry.”
“Shot at?” Monroe squeaked. Talmadge looked appalled.
“Agent Burton was coming up to be debriefed about an incident that occurred as she pulled into the garage when she walked into this, this…” Pretzky stopped. Took a breath, and finally added, “SNAFU.”
Talmadge looked puzzled, so Monroe whispered, “I’ll explain later. But it’s a mess.”
Talmadge nodded, but looked at Ana with respect verging on awe. “Serious, dude. Glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.” Ana had to laugh at the simple sentiment. Somehow it was just the tonic to the incipient panic. “Me too.”
“Wow, into the breach, right?” Monroe was more the squirrelly, tell-me-the-details type, obviously. She could tell he was busting to ask. He flicked a glance at the frowning Pretzky, and instead said, “So you have a photographic memory? You got those ISPs.”
Ana nodded. “Pretty much. I’ve seen one of them before, the Turkish one, so I recognized the source code.”
“Source code?” Pretzky looked puzzled. “Part of that’s a source code?”
Monroe was back to teacher mode. “Yeah, see the middle section here? Yeah, that’s kinda like a country code, like we said. Satellite code. Pretty distinct. But this hacker bounced it probably, like Agent Burton said. You set up this pattern thing, beforehand, and then it takes your real ISP—computer identity code, you know?—and hides it behind all these others. Pretty cool.”
“Cool aside,” Pretzky’s stern look repressed even Monroe’s enthusiasm. “Can you track it?”
“Probably not.” Talmadge was the bucket of cold water on a growing spark. “Guy who did this? Real good. Sneaky. Trackin’ it would mean lots of man-hours for probably nuthin’ much. Hard to justify, right?”
Pretzky’s sour grimace said it all. “Right. See if you can get anything, but don’t spend more than twenty man-hours on it or the director will have my ass.”
“Got it.” Talmadge’s reply was snappy, succinct.
“We’ll patch the hole though, for sure,” Monroe said, shooting a look at Talmadge. “That’s first priority. Gotta get you back up, right?”
“Immediately, but safely.”
“Right-o.” Monroe jumped up. Ana got the impression he didn’t sit still much. “Thanks for the soda,” he said, grabbing two more as he scooted toward the door. Talmadge just nodded and followed.
“Mutt and Jeff?” Pretzky muttered as the two men left.
“More like Phineas and Ferb.” Pearson, heretofore silent, muttered the rejoinder.
“Who?”
Pearson looked embarrassed. “Kid show on Disney. Two brothers who build wild stuff all the time, get their sister in trouble. Uh, they’re like that. Geeks. One talks, the other doesn’t say much.”
“Got it,” Pretzky snapped. “So, ideas, next steps?”
“I’ll boot up my personal, hook into the Wi-Fi. Check out the Net. Call in some favors if I need to,” Ana said.
“Keep IAD in the loop, Burton. They want to be apprised of everything going down. They don’t like agents getting shot at under the watchful eye of our own security cameras. And if you got dead it would really piss them off.” She paced toward the wall, pivoted. “Pearson, you have your personal laptop with you too?”
Pearson nodded, crossed