Oracle's Hunt Read online

  Helios let out a heavy sigh. “Whoever did this appears to have been looking specifically for information about Oracle.” He addressed Lara. “And we have a reason to believe they found something.”

  All eyes were now on Lara. She nodded slightly, composed, although a thousand and one scenarios were chasing through her mind.

  “The thing is,” Evans said, “they had to have been planning it for a while, and they’re obviously clever. We don’t know yet if they specifically hacked the IDSD unit because they knew what they were looking for—Oracle—is here, or if they hacked it only because IDSD is the crossroads for all international missions, in which case they have no real idea which agency this code name belongs to. On the off chance that they don’t know who Oracle operates under, having the investigation be run by someone other than IDSD just might throw them off. Hell, we don’t know if they even know for sure what Oracle is.”

  “And if they do? And know it’s ours?” Scholes still wasn’t convinced.

  “That’s why USFID-SIRT is on this. They’re good and they’re impartial, and Agent Pierce really is the best. The guy is relentless, he’ll find them. And finding them is a priority here.” Evans turned to Lara. “You will, of course, be updated at all times, and you have an open line directly to me.”

  “I’d like to speak to the investigator, this Agent Pierce,” was her quiet response.

  The others exchanged a look. “We would rather you didn’t involve yourself in this, Lara,” Helios said. “At this point we must maintain a strict separation between you and this investigation, and, to the extent possible, between you and Oracle, for your safety.”

  “I want to hear from him personally what he has found so far.”

  Scholes intervened. None of them knew Lara as well as he did, had for five years now, five years and countless missions he’d been through with her since she’d joined IDSD Missions. He understood that she needed to actually see the man on whom her and Oracle’s safety would now depend, speak to him, lock on her only tangible connection to the investigation. Once she did this, if she felt she could trust him, trust his work, it might be easier for her to step aside and stay out of it. He hoped.

  “Actually, I’d like to do that myself. Lara can be there while I speak to him,” he said with finality.

  Neither Evans nor Ericsson liked this unnecessary exposure, in their opinion, but Helios nodded, trusting his second-in-command. “Very well.”

  Donovan raised his head from the screen, on which yet another secure database turned up nothing about the only lead he had for now, Oracle, as a shadow fell across his desk. Director Leland White stood there, looking perturbed.

  “And there we go,” he said.

  Donovan waited.

  White sighed. “I just received a call from IDSD’s missions arm here in the United States. They want to talk to us. To you, actually.”

  Donovan said nothing.

  “Yes, I know.” Exasperation seeped into White’s voice. “But we knew they’d butt in. And since it’s their data storage unit that was hacked, they are likely to be the target in this.”

  Donovan didn’t confirm. As far as he was concerned, the investigation had barely begun, and he didn’t know yet who the target was. Or anything else, for that matter. In his experience, investigations tended to have surprises hiding in the most unlikely places.

  “Vice Admiral Scholes’s aide says he would like a briefing about everything we’ve got so far. US Global Intelligence confirms we should comply.”

  “Vice admiral?”

  White nodded emphatically. “Second-in-command of IDSD here and the head of IDSD Missions.”

  “A bit high, isn’t it?”

  “You should be used to it by now.”

  True, Donovan had to admit. But usually those ranks settled for bothering White, and this left him to do his job without interference, which was the way he liked it.

  “Come on, let’s get it over with,” White said wearily. It had been a long day, and the days ahead would be full of pressure as he would do his best to keep it away from his best investigator. He was really looking forward to heading home.

  The floor they were on, the one reserved for the SIRT unit in the USFID main building, was empty at this hour. Donovan had even sent home the investigators working with him on the data center break-in, not long after they’d returned from the crime scene. He preferred to have them back fresh the next day, especially since they’d been on duty since the middle of the previous night. He now transferred the call from the director’s office to the main screen on the floor instead of to the one in his own office, and as Scholes’s aide transferred the call to his office at her end, the vice admiral appeared on the screen.

  Donovan saw before him a black giant, close to sixty, he guessed, who looked too big even for the massive desk he was sitting behind. His rugged face was as stern as the intelligent eyes that bore into them through the screen. But Donovan saw the vice admiral only for the split second it took him to register the woman behind him. She was standing, leaning on the window sill, between photos that, he supposed, belonged to the owner of the office. Well dressed, he noticed. Good body, he couldn’t help but see. Her hair pulled back. Seemingly relaxed, looking down, her arms folded across her chest. As the vice admiral began to speak she raised her head, and her eyes fell on Donovan’s. And stayed there.

  He knew he was mesmerized but he thought, it seemed to him at least, that she had a similar reaction to him, too. And then a veil fell over her eyes, and he could no longer read anything in them. He felt himself do the same as instinct kicked in and all the defenses he had so carefully built over the years came up. But behind them, behind this facade that would enable him to get through the videoconference until he could get away, get away and think, he could still feel it.

  Her effect on him.

  The vice admiral’s booming voice broke through Donovan’s thoughts. Dispensing with the formalities, he came to the point. “Director White, Special Agent in Charge Pierce, I assure you IDSD has no wish to interfere with your investigation. However, considering our involvement, we would appreciate it if you could walk us through what you have so far.”

  Smooth, Donovan thought. Rather appeasing, in fact, from a man who was in a position to walk all over them, if he wanted to. And, he noted, the vice admiral never bothered to introduce the woman behind him.

  “Of course, Admiral,” he said, and proceeded to walk them through every detail of the crime scene, from the moment the break-in was first discovered by the USOMP. The vice admiral never took his eyes off the screen, listening to every word and asking the occasional question. The woman simply stood there, her head lowered again, until Donovan brought up the photos taken at the scene, but he had a feeling she’d heard every word he said.

  “How did you know it was IDSD’s unit that was hacked?” the vice admiral asked.

  Donovan explained and showed them the footage the USOMP’s security camera had taken, carefully watching their reaction when he zoomed in on the encrypted data the perpetrators took, and on the single word that flashed throughout it.

  Both remained impassive.

  “This is all we have for now,” White said. “But we have of course only begun to investigate. We’ll update you when we have anything new.”

  The vice admiral nodded. “Director White, I am well aware of USFID’s excellent capabilities, as well as of your unprecedented record, Agent Pierce,” he addressed Donovan. “I have every confidence in your ability to find whoever is behind this.”

  “Sir,” Donovan interjected. He wasn’t ready to end this interview just yet. “Could you tell me what Oracle is?”

  The slightest hesitation. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”

  “I’ve run a check on it, but I haven’t been able to find anything, not even a mention of it. In fact, if I wouldn’t know any better I would think it doesn’t exist.” Donovan paused. No reaction. “Either that,” he continued, “or it’s got the be
st security I’ve ever seen around it.”

  “But surely, Agent Pierce, an investigator of your caliber should be able to proceed even if you do not know what this . . . Oracle you said? . . . is. We would gladly provide you with any help you might need in tracking the perpetrators through their connection to IDSD, assuming there is such a connection, and I know for certain that all our peer agencies would be happy to do the same.”

  Any help except information about Oracle, apparently, Donovan thought.

  “In fact,” the vice admiral continued with practiced equanimity, “I will provide you with a liaison for this investigation, to facilitate your dealings with IDSD.”

  “And you?” Donovan asked, shifting his gaze to the woman, who’d said nothing throughout the conversation, and who had lowered her eyes yet again. She seemed calm, no fidgeting, no reaction at all.

  She raised her head and met his eyes, confirming again that she was, in fact, listening quite intently. “I’m sorry, Agent Pierce. I can’t help you.”

  He nodded slightly. “Will you be the one working with us on this investigation?”

  He thought he saw curiosity appear in her eyes. And something else, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “No, I’m afraid that’s not what I do,” was all she said after a pause.

  So what do you do? Donovan wondered as he let White and the vice admiral end the conversation amicably and, he thought, very diplomatically.

  As soon as IDSD signed off Donovan turned to look at White, his eyebrows raised.

  “Yes,” White said before he managed to say anything. “Right? What was that all about? That’s all they wanted? You provided all of this to their head of security—Ericsson, was it?—earlier, didn’t you?”

  “Including the photos and the footage.” Which might explain why they had managed to remain impassive when viewing the footage. Would they have had time to watch and decrypt it? Why would they ask to hear it all again from him? And why the hell would they withhold information relevant to an investigation designed to help them?

  “I have to say though, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same if it were my agency that was attacked that way. Check us out, keep close to see what we’ve got. You think the other agencies won’t do the same, even those that know us? You know what that data center was.” White waved a hand. “But don’t worry, I’ll keep them away from you. You do your job, I’ll do mine.”

  “Except for the liaison.”

  “Hey, you might as well get more information out of him than he’ll want to give. You’re good at that.” White sighed and turned to leave. “Right, I vote to call it a day. Go home, Donovan. Before tomorrow.”

  “In a bit,” Donovan replied, his mind on the call. And on that woman who wasn’t introduced.

  At IDSD Missions, Scholes turned to look at Lara. And waited. She was thinking, he knew. Processing. Finally, she moved her gaze from the dark screen to him. She looked tired. She’d kept up the adrenaline that always came with missions Oracle was involved in longer that she should have, to get through the meeting with Helios and the videoconference, but her exhaustion was finally showing. And now this, the data center break-in, its connection to Oracle, wouldn’t let her alone. He was worried, the implications of all he’d heard so far already beginning to sink in. Was someone after Oracle? Could anyone actually get through it to the woman behind it? And what would they do? What did they want?

  He didn’t say any of this aloud. He needed to consider the situation and its potential implications, and he didn’t want to do that in front of Lara, not now. But his face must have betrayed his concern—and the thoughts he was already having, of placing her under increased protection.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said. “I’m going home. To my home. It’s secure enough.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Yes, I know how you think, Frank. We’ve been there before. And we don’t know what’s going on yet. Nor do whoever did this necessarily know what Oracle is, you saw the data they took.” They both did, with Ericsson and Evans, after decrypting it—it was after all IDSD’s encryption. “They’re not likely to make the connection, not from that data.”

  But what if they had somehow gotten other information before? What was it that had led them to search for Oracle, of all things, in the first place? Still, Scholes didn’t push the point. There would be no arguing with her, he still had too little to rely on for that. “I’ll let it go,” he said. “For now. But we’ll be watching you more closely from now on.”

  He wasn’t surprised at her sigh of irritation. Yes, she knew they would. And she hated that. Off work, she liked to be left alone. “Come on,” he said and stood up to guide her out of his office. He gestured, and Aiden came forward hurriedly. “Make sure Ms. Holsworth goes home,” he ordered before the aide even came to a stop.

  Lara began to protest but he stood his ground. “You’ve been here for days, Lara. Go home, get some rest. It will all wait.”

  Once in the elevator that would take them from the top floor of IDSD Missions to the main lobby of the building, Lara allowed herself to lean back against the wall and close her eyes. She felt tired and tense, but then that was what it was usually like when Oracle was called in. Even in preplanned, far more gradual missions like the one that was completed earlier that day, successful as they were, she ended up exhausted, her mind having to constantly be alert, often being called to work at maximum capacity for days on end. And tense, always incredibly tense, as if her body was unable to unwind from the effort. But days like this, in which an unscheduled incident came in, a mission gone wrong that called on Oracle to help before it even had time to switch gears from a too-recently completed mission, took every resource she had left. Normally after a hectic day she would go to the pool and swim as many laps as it would take for her to feel better. But not tonight. She was too tired. The past days, this day, had taken everything she had.

  And now this, the data center break-in. She tried to take her mind off it, at least for now. It needed a good looking at, and she was spent. She couldn’t even begin to find the energy to think clearly anymore. Good. Maybe she could sleep. She had to sleep. When was the last time she had slept?

  The elevator doors opened, and Aiden Jenor, Lara’s loyal aide ever since she first came to IDSD, walked her to her car, which stood in its marked spot in the adjoining parking lot that was never even close to being empty.

  “Go home,” she told him as she was getting in, and frowned when he shook his head.

  “I’ll just wrap up some things first, ma’am.”

  “Go home, that’s an order,” she insisted. “You’ve been here as long as I have.”

  Yes, he thought as the car exited its spot and sped away. Except I actually got some sleep during that time while you spent all of it saving them in there. But he would obey the order, leave now and be there when she arrived the next day to wrap up the final details and debriefing of that day’s missions and prepare to deal with whatever else came along.

  Too tired to drive and smart enough to know this, Lara let the autonomous drive take over. It would select the route with the least traffic—not a problem at this hour—and would bring her quickly to the address preprogrammed into it as her home.

  She watched the IDSD complex go by, then dark fields under heavy sky, thick woods in the distance, then into the city and to the Washington, DC, suburb she now lived in. She wasn’t used to it yet, to these streets with their elegant two-story homes with lush gardens surrounding them, trees proud with age, a testimony to the longtime existence of this quiet neighborhood. Homes here had seen quite a few generations grow old. This was a place of families, traditions, love.

  But not for her. She had known this place for many years, but had only lived here herself for a few weeks. And even these she spent working, her hectic job mandating that. As it did at times, it had taken her to Brussels, where IDSD had its headquarters, and the days since she had returned had been a tangle of missions
that kept her for the most part away from here.

  The car drove through silent streets, allowing her a look at the dark homes of neighbors she hadn’t met yet. Finally, it stopped at the curb, and the door swung open. She got out and stood looking at the house, her house, lit now only by the front lawn lights the security system had turned on. Not quite home, not yet. Too new for that, new to her. Not her choice, either, not directly, anyway. Donna’s choice, really. In fact, the way the house looked was Donna’s doing, too, inside and out. At least that. Lara had had no inclination to take care of it herself, and Donna had a way of knowing what she needed.

  She took out her briefcase and left the car at the curb, making a mental note to have it programmed to enter the garage by itself or at least go up the driveway. She walked up to the front door, and as she did the home security system recognized her and the door opened, letting her in and locking again behind her.

  Inside, she walked through the short entry hall into the living room and crossed left to the stairs to the second floor, never stopping. The lights followed her, and in the absence of a vocal order from her they switched on at the default half-dim as she approached them, then off again as she walked on. Upstairs she ordered the bedroom lights to low dim, then touched the wall safe to open it and placed inside the laptop she took out of her briefcase, along with her IDSD ID. She closed the safe, left the briefcase where she had dropped it on the carpet, stripped and crawled into bed. She was asleep the instant her head hit the pillow, her sleep so deep not even the thoughts, the endless analysis that would normally churn through her mind after a mission, nor the knowledge that someone was now targeting Oracle, got through.

  Donovan pushed his desk screen away in distaste and stood up. He stretched to remove the kinks from his neck, toned muscles flexing under the tailored shirt he was wearing. Nothing. Dead end. It was as if Oracle simply did not exist.