Jack Be Quick Ch. 03

"Better than I'd expect. I'm not used to life or death situations, but while it was happening my mind was operating the way it did in that batting cage years ago. All the things that I thought might be just a blur were clear and sharp, just like those baseballs coming at me. I had plenty of time to check on everything and prepare for what was coming next. I had the Lincoln in the mirrors as if my eyes never left it, even though I snatching quick glances so I could keep watching the road. I even had time to check the gauges to see what the engine temperature was, while we were going maybe a hundred and twenty. And I'm just now realizing something else, sort of a neat surprise. It felt good!"

Trudy didn't feel quite as elated over the adventure as I did, but she had gotten into it and as long as we were safe, she was okay with it. We gradually relaxed as we talked about this and that, until the agent got on the phone again. "As far as we can see there aren't any more hostiles in your area. We've studied the surroundings very thoroughly and everything looks okay. So you're good to go as soon as you feel like it. When you leave, just go right out onto the on ramp and continue your trip. But don't stop and don't get out of the car. You should have enough gas to make it all the way. If traffic stops on the interstate call me immediately. We'll be tracking you all the way. Any questions?"

Trudy spoke up. "We haven't had any lunch, and we had almost no breakfast. How can we get something to eat? And some coffee?"

"I'll have something brought to you. Just sit tight."

About twenty minutes later the phone crackled again. "A blue Chevy pickup will be there in a minute. The driver will show FBI ID. After he does, open your window and he'll hand you your lunch. Also, he'll give you a box that contains what we call a stakeout kit. It's so you can take a pee or whatever without getting out of the car. You'll need that, I'm sure. Have a good trip."

Sure enough, an agent pulled up in a two tone blue Silverado. He handed the packages through the window, and he was gone. Trudy cracked up. "We need that guy at home. Just call and we get our meals delivered, and we don't even have to pay. I could get used to this. What's your choice, pastrami or ham and cheese?"

The rest of the trip went well except for the stakeout kit, which was a real nuisance to use. Trudy was especially unkind in her comments about it. A strange thing happened in the Albany area. Sort of funny, now that I reflect on it. I have a pretty strong case of acrophobia, the irrational fear of high places. When we cross the Hudson River, the simplest way to do it is on the Berkshire Section of the Thruway, a few miles south of Albany. The highway crosses a deep canyon where in my judgment, the river is about five miles down below long twin spans that look as substantial as strands of spiderweb. I don't drive over the river that way. Either Trudy can drive over that bridge, with me cowering in the passenger seat looking down at my feet, or I take the main stem of Interstate 90 that goes through the middle of Albany and crosses the river down low, on a wide, substantial bridge with lots of concrete. But after our adventure at Utica, I wasn't even thinking about the spider web bridge. I just turned onto the Berkshire Section as if I drove that way every day.

Trudy asked, "Want me to drive here?"

For some reason the terrifying bridge was of no importance to me right then. "Thanks, but I'll do it. It's no worse than the Utica offramp, I guess. I probably won't feel this way about it next time we're here, but today it's just no biggie."

We were almost home when we got a phone call and Jerry's voice spoke to us. "Welcome home, kids. Your house has been checked out and it's okay. Just make sure you do the whole security routine with the car, and then you can go in and say hi to your apartment mates and get a good night's sleep. If anybody asks, nothing unusual happened on your way across New York State. Tomorrow I'll call you at work, Jack, and answer whatever questions you'll have thought up by then. Good night."

* * * * * * * * * *

Jerry was as good as his word. I had lots of questions and he patiently answered every one. I learned that when we were in danger the FBI orchestrated a team effort to rescue us. FBI agents, Federal Marshals, New York State Troopers, New York State Department of Public Works, Sheriff's Deputies, and the armed forces all played roles in it, and that was the real lesson to be learned from the episode. There is no such thing as a nationwide crime prevention network. It doesn't exist in the executive branch, it's not mentioned in the Constitution, it doesn't have a website or a phone number. But it does exist, lots of good people out there who cooperate to do the right thing, and they don't hesitate about it. When you're in trouble, if you have the right friends who can call in favors on the spot, you'll be taken care of. That big dump truck belonged to NYSDPW, but the driver was FBI. After the Lincoln crashed, the network grew even larger.

To check out the route we'd be taking to get home, Air Force F-16s with millions of dollars worth of cameras and communication gear were flown over it at near sonic speed. The photos were interpreted by intelligence specialists from the Army National Guard who were already familiar with every blade of grass in the area. To get a closer look in questionable spots, Army National Guard helicopters were called in. After the wreck cooled down the FBI identified the remains of the two bad guys who had been in the Lincoln and passed the information on to an Interpol office in Belgium to get their opinion on what they were doing here. And finally, the stakeout kit was a product that had been developed by the French Army. When I explained all this to Trudy that evening, she was as amazed as I was. We can't escape the fact that national and state boundaries and bureaucratic organization charts are losing their meaning. Lots of folks are out there to help you get through the toughest scrape, if you're on their side. Without them we'd have been just plain screwed. We thought it over and agreed that we'd do our best to pull our weight as part of this extended family of good guys.

A week later a strange thing happened. Trudy, who was a whiz with finances, balanced our checking account every month, always right to the penny. Even though we weren't married we had a joint account, which in itself said something about the way we viewed our relationship. But that month, the numbers just wouldn't come out right. Finally she asked me to look it over, and it was obvious that we had two thousand dollars that we couldn't account for. Next day she took the figures to the bank, where an assistant vice president tracked down the source of the problem. Two deposits, one in her name and one in mine, had been made from a source identified as Gregory Bates. That night I called Jerry, who explained that Gregory Bates was a name used as cover for special expenditures, including paying 'confidential consultants.' "Look, is that all right with you two? We never negotiated a figure so I just put down what came to my mind first, but if it's not enough I can . . ."

"No, no, Jerry, that's not it at all. We didn't even know we were being paid. We're not in this to get rich. It's nice to have extra cash, but we're comfortable. We're students, for gosh sakes, and we don't need a whole lot of cash. If we should feel a pinch I'll tell you, but for now we're just fine with this. And thank you very much."

"Well, here's what I can do. That car can drink up a lot of gas, and we ought to help you out there. I'm going to mail you credit cards, one for each of you, that you can use for various expenses at your discretion. Filling the gas tank? With the card you can pay right at the pump. Too busy to cook? Eat out and put it on the card. Need vests or jackets to conceal your defensive hardware? Use the card. Whatever. That should simplify your accounting a little. The government's still getting a bargain on you two, so don't worry about the details."

* * * * * * * * * *

I worked late the next few nights. I was part of a four-man team working on a computer routine called a six-way interpreter and we were having trouble getting it to work in time to be assembled to a larger module. We finally got it right and I got home at midnight, to find Trudy waiting up for me. I was afraid there was something wrong but it turned out she was just lonesome for me, and she searched for creative ways to express her joy at having me home. Her creativity was so good that we didn't get to the part when we lie quietly in bed beside each other, until almost dawn. She kissed me good night, or good morning or whatever, and my head hit the pillow just in time to hear the phone ring.

Jerry's voice sounded sleepy, but I'm sure mine was a match for it. "What's up?"

"We have a slight puzzle, and we need help figuring it out. Step out of the lab at ten and walk toward the admin building. I'll find you and we'll take a ride and talk."

It wasn't unusual for me to come and go during the day, since I had occasional lectures and meetings with faculty members to attend, as part of my progress toward a degree, So nobody raised an eyebrow when I left in the morning to meet with Jerry.

Driving along Storrow Parkway, which skirts the Charles river, Jerry explained his problem. "We keep track of what's going on at your lab by measuring and counting the things that we can measure and count. Headcount is up, higher than it's ever been. That's consistent with the progress reports, which indicate that the groundwork has been laid for the system, and the various bits and pieces are now being developed in parallel. All along we've kept track of the number of times the door opens and closes, and we've related that to headcount. The relationship looks pretty ragged at first, but by plotting a three day average of the door against heads, we've got a pretty decent curve so we figure we know what it ought to look like. But in the past week it's gone all to hell. Somebody's doing a whole lot of coming and going, and oddly enough, more going than coming, so much that it must be pretty obvious from the inside what's going on. I need to know what you can find out or figure out, or even a decent hunch we can pursue further. Give it some study and let me know what you think, but don't call me about it from the lab."

"All right. Can you get me a list of our people? I don't want a special request made for the information, but you must have it in some form or other from the regular reports you get every month."

"Okay, I see where you're going with this. I'll have it by tonight. How about dinner tonight, you and Trudy and me at the Green Goose. Okay?"

"I think so. We were up late last night. Trudy's going back at eleven to catch a nap. Unless you hear otherwise, figure on us at seven."

I could have used a nap myself right about then, but I went back to work and tried to look nonchalant. I think I did pretty well, but as tired as I was, I probably looked a little chalant around the edges. It didn't matter because everybody was hard at work, and if I'd set off a firecracker in the place they wouldn't have noticed.

The lab was a big, open space with George's office along the back wall, along with a store room and a couple of equipment rooms. There were five emergency exits, and they were all alarmed. If anybody opened one of those doors a signal went off to several places including the FBI office, and it sounded a loud horn at the same time. It was really loud, impossible to ignore. All coming and going was done at a single point. To get out, you went through a turnstile to a door that opened with a panic bar on the inside. The outside of that door was one smooth surface, with no handles or doorknobs. To get in, you had to put your badge into a card reader, which unlocked a turnstile to let one person to the door, which would open once for the person who just come through the turnstile. Then the card reader wouldn't read another badge until the door had clicked shut. If we'd all been working the same hours we would have made quite a queue at the entry point, but we all came and went at different times so the inherent delay in entry wasn't a problem.

I sat at my desk, doodling on a scratch pad while I thought about people going in and out. My first thought was that there couldn't be a problem. Suppose we had forty people, which was about the size of the work force. Each person comes to work, goes out to lunch and returns, and leaves at the end of the day. But suppose that person has a class in the middle of the workday. That could cause another entry, making three. Then par would be 120 entries per day, and the exits should match the entries.

I pulled out a box of assorted gadgets that I'd accumulated over the years, and dug around till I found a digital listening device about the size of a golf ball, hooked up to a little counter. In seventh grade I had used the combination to count bird calls for a science project. By adjusting the frequency sensitivity and the threshold level on the listener I could select one specific kind of bird call that would make it send a one to the counter, while ignoring all the other sounds. The problem with doing that sort of adjustment is that you can't get a red wing blackbird to call, or a door to bang shut, on demand. So just as in the seventh grade, I had to make adjustments, go back to what I was working on, make a few more, work some more, and so on. It took a while, but by suppertime I had a pretty good way to count all the times the exit door closed, while ignoring all the other noises in the lab. Most of the employees left for home between 4:30 and 6:00 pm, which gave me an excellent chance to verify the operation of my door counter. The next morning I'd examine the data carefully and see what I could learn about what the door was doing, and by mid afternoon I'd have a full day of data to use as a basis for future comparisons.

Trudy really would have preferred to go right to bed at six that night, but there was no way that she would give in and miss all the excitement of a clandestine conspirators' meeting. So off we went to meet Jerry. He came into the Green Goose just as we were sitting down at a back table, and he looked as weary as we felt.

Working for Jerry was good for us in that he always seemed so happy to see us. Immersed in a world of make believe, in a business where nobody takes anybody's word for anything, Jerry seemed to regard us as his normal friends. He had personally selected us to be on his team, after checking us so thoroughly that he knew we were squeaky clean. We'd never even got a parking ticket.

"Oh, God, I'm beat. When we leave here I'm going straight to bed. Jack, what do you know about the door counts?"

"At first glance the system that you've got on the entry door seems infallible, provided that the wiring is all intact and protected. You can record every time a person operates the door, and if he or she doesn't go on in, there's nothing else they can do. On the other hand, the space is so tight that I think it would take some real acrobatics to get two people in on one cycle of operation. The antics they'd have to go through would be so obvious to any passerby that it'd be very risky. I recommend that you get a team of techs in there on a weekend, tear out the old wiring, and do it over with extra heavy steel conduit, out in the open. I 'd also recommend a security camera overhead to record what goes on there, 24-7.

"You don't have a meaningful count on the exit door. It opens and latches mechanically, and leaves a count that's not tied to anything else, even the clock. I've rigged up a quick and dirty acoustic counter setup to get me a record of when and how often the exit door closes. I'm wondering if somebody stood at that door late at night and opened and closed it a bunch of times, just to confuse you. It might have just been a way that somebody could blow off steam, without any serious implications. Remember you're dealing with dedicated techies, and they're not wired the same as people you're used to.

"It is possible for somebody to open the exit door from inside and let somebody sneak in, but they'd have to deal with the exit turnstile. But that's inside, so at night nobody'd see a guy climbing over it.

"The entry and exit turnstiles are your weakest spots. I'm surprised that you don't have the kind they have at ports of entry and some of the ultra secure courthouses, full height, with the rotating bars combing the spaces between stationary ones.

"Now about data and what they mean. Every time the card reader scans a badge it counts one. That same pulse is what unlocks the entry door. Your system assumes that there is an exact match between reads and unlocks, so you don't collect any data from the door itself. The unlocks are what allow the door to be opened, as long as it was locked after the last guy went through it. We need to collect data on the door opening, door closing, and door locking, not just unlocking and definitely not just badge reading. A heavy duty mechanical door closer would be a sensible addition, too.

"We can suppose that any time a person walks in the door he enters the lab. That's because it's so obvious that nobody has ever questioned it, or tried to find a place somebody could slip into and stay there until the lab is empty. There's nobody working over by the entry and exit doors, and some sort of strange stuff could go on over there and you'd never know it. Even more basic, you need to know if people are carrying anything out with them, and you have no way at all to monitor that.

"So my first guess is that somebody is fooling around with your exit counting, just to jiggle your chain. Maybe it's deliberate misdirection. But you don't know because in real terms, your in and out security is so porous as to be meaningless."

Jerry looked hurt by that remark. I probably would have worded it more tactfully if I weren't dead tired. "Sorry, Jer. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but just think about it and I'm sure you'll agree with me. Human surveillance has apparently been ruled out since the beginning of the project. That decision must have been made when there was nothing inside to protect. Now that there's meaningful stuff in there, that decision needs to be reviewed. Cameras are easier to fool than well trained security agents. With a hundred thousand servicemen and women coming back from Afghanistan and needing jobs, it shouldn't be all that hard to keep an eye on who's coming and going, or what they're doing while they're there.

"I've heard people compare this operation to the Manhattan Project, but they're totally different. The Army managed the Manhattan Project. At its peak it employed way over a hundred thousand people, and we'll probably never have over a hundred. They had millions of people in the Army that they could draw from to keep everything secret. The very existence of the project was a secret. Now look at what we've got here at MIT. This is a project that employs only about forty people, and is on its way to a hundred. But instead of keeping its existence a secret, you've deliberately advertised it to all the world's spy networks. So the game's not the same. We need to use all the security technology that's available, and add the human element too. Even if you need to hire two hundred security agents to watch over a hundred workers, it's a bargain."

Jerry listened to every word. He'd been recording it all on a pocket recorder and I knew he'd play it back to people up the line. I stopped and he said a few words to sum up. "What you're saying is that our data on coming and going have questionable validity and significance. They could mean something, or they could mean nothing. They could even be a red herring to confuse us and get us looking the wrong way. I'll be interested in seeing what your acoustic counter comes up with, particularly because it's independent of anything else we've got. But no matter what it shows, we've got a lot of tightening up to do. Thanks, Jack. Keep your ear to the ground."