The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(96)

“It originated right here in the building, on a subnet on the third floor.”

“What?”

“I’ve run a complete trace, including a full message log and router dump. There can be no doubt.”

“Shit. Have you isolated the subnet?”

“I have taken that subnet and the thirteen connecting subnets off-line, physically disconnecting them from all other systems while we work this.”

“Step it out another level.”

“Sir, that will take a quarter of the systems in the building off-line.”

“I don’t care. Do it.”

Kurtz pressed a button on his secure cell phone, spoke a couple of words into the mouthpiece, and then flipped it closed. “It is done.”

Riles rose from his chair, pacing to the digital display that took the place of the window that would have existed in a non-classified facility. He touched the screen, and the scene changed to a pristine beach in Maui.

“Now, David, tell me about this message.”

“Yes, sir. Since the encryption pattern exactly matched the New Year’s Day Virus, our IP sniffer picked it up instantly. It decrypted to five words: Rho Project Nanite Suspension Fluid.”

“On the SIPRNet in our building?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How is that possible?”

“There’s no way to do it from outside. The SIPRNet systems do not have a physical connection to any non-SIPRNet line. Also, this message did not propagate to any other systems like the virus did. It just originated on one of our networks.”

Riles turned away from Maui. “David, I want every single person with access to that part of the building restricted to site immediately. Place an emergency recall to anyone who is not currently in the building and get their asses in here ASAP. Get the interrogation team briefed and moving. Once we have everyone that could have possibly touched the system here and accounted for, nobody leaves until they are polygraphed. If the message didn’t come from outside the building, then I want to know which one of our people is responsible.”

Kurtz turned toward the door.

“David.”

Kurtz stopped to look back at Riles.

“That means everyone who could have touched any part of those subnets.”

“I’ll be the first to take the poly,” David Kurtz responded, then turned and walked out the door.

The door closed behind David Kurtz with a soft snick as the latch engaged. Jonathan Riles stared at the dark wood of the closed portal. He had just ordered over a hundred people to undergo an emergency polygraph that he did not think for a second would turn up anything. Still, if Jonathan Riles was anything, he was thorough. So he would do his duty. Tomorrow would be soon enough to delve into the other disturbing possibilities that whispered at the edge of his mind.

Walking back to his desk, he glanced down at the words on the topmost of Kurtz’s stack of papers.

Rho Project Nanite Suspension Fluid.

The words did nothing to ease his state of mind.





Chapter 72





The noise in the Pit was deafening. It seemed that half the state had turned out to see the basketball state championship game between the Los Alamos Hilltoppers and the Roswell Goddard Rockets. Even people who normally did not follow high school basketball had become enthralled with the story of the junior phenom, Marcus Aurelius Smythe.

Indeed, his entrance into the University of New Mexico basketball stadium generated a welcome that a victorious Caesar would have found thrilling. Heather was stunned by the crowd response, which rose to such volume that she began to wonder if her ears would start bleeding.

Sitting here in courtside seats with her mom, dad, and the Smythes, the thrill that surged through her enhanced nerve endings was tinged with just a hint of dismay. That Jack and Janet Johnson stood cheering immediately behind her only heightened her concern.

Janet put two fingers between her lips and sent out a whistle that caused Mark to turn his head toward them and smile. If Heather’s ears had not been bleeding before, they certainly were now.

Although the crowd’s size was surprising, both Heather and Jennifer had been expecting a response after Friday’s article in the sports section of the Albuquerque Journal.

“Junior Point Guard Sets the Court on Fire” the sports headline had blared. Immediately below the headline, the picture showed Mark spinning between defenders, the ball passing between his legs in mid-dribble. Jennifer had almost succeeded in making her brother feel guilty about the attention he was drawing when Janet had walked by in the school hallway.

“Mark, congratulations on the wonderful article. Jack and I are so excited for you.”

With those few words, the brief hint of guilt disappeared from Mark’s face, vaporized as thoroughly as rainwater on a volcano.

And so, here and now, they all stood together cheering in unison with thousands of others to whom Mark was a total stranger. Surreal.

Jennifer’s sharp elbow interrupted Heather’s reverie. Her eyes moved across the stadium to the spot at which Jennifer pointed.

“I didn’t know George Delome was friends with Raul,” Jennifer said.

At the far end of the floor, near the entry hallway from the locker rooms, Raul stood in close conversation with the Hilltoppers’ team manager.

“George is a member of Raul’s Bible study group.”