“Tucker Miles,” said Tanner. The agent nodded, seeing that it matched their ID. It was the third time he’d asked them the question. They were obviously being extra cautious due to something. Most likely, threats made by Santori.
“Follow me,” said the agent.
They noticed the increased number of guards and dogs, all the while the microscopic cameras on the buttons of their shirts, recording everything. They’d been wanded and scanned for any hidden devices, but the technology of G.R.I.P. was far superior to anything that the White House possessed.
Inside, they took the men down the long hallway leading to the oval office. The POTUS wasn’t inside, but the laptop sat on the desk.
“What’s wrong with the laptop?” asked Tanner.
“How the fuck would I know? That’s why you’re here,” said the agent. Tanner stared at him.
“A general idea. Is it blinking? Does it turn on? Does it write funny characters?” he said with sarcasm.
“Oh. I don’t know, man. The president said it keeps going in and out and he’s afraid someone is trying to hack into it. I know you’re contracted to our regular tech team but I’ve never seen you guys before.”
“We’re usually in a dark room finding bad guys,” said U-Jin. The agent nodded, smirking at them.
“No, shit. That must be cool. You guys are the hidden secret spy experts.” Neither said a word, just staring at the man. “Go ahead and get busy. I can’t leave you alone.”
They nodded at him as Tanner found the server and attached several things to it. The agent watched the entire time but didn’t ask what he was doing. U-Jin opened the laptop and logged in.
“Don’t you need his password?” asked the agent.
“We created the password,” lied U-Jin. “We always know the password because it changes daily.”
“Right,” he nodded.
U-Jin ignored all the e-mails back and forth from agencies or congress. What he didn’t ignore were the messages he knew that Santori sent and those that were relative to Margaret’s death. They were sent to a secure drive automatically, without ever inserting anything into the computer. There would be no trace to it all.
The technology, dubbed ‘airmail’ by G.R.I.P., allowed them to send or forward e-mails without any trace whatsoever. There were dozens. Then he did a search, created from an algorithm that would search for links to anything discussed in those e-mails.
Thousands popped up. E-mails to drilling companies, presidents of South American countries, and to known mercenaries. The POTUS was about to be taken down.
“I’ve found the issue,” said Tanner.
“Is it an easy fix?” asked the agent.
“Yeah. No big deal. It was a faulty cable. Anything different on your end?” he asked U-Jin.
“Nothing. Once you replaced the cable everything seems to functioning well. I did add some securities to the laptop and a few more firewalls and software updates. It wasn’t very well protected,” he lied.
“I’m sure the president will be grateful. Let me walk you out.”
They followed the agent down the steps and out the backdoor, through security once again, and past the guardhouse. They said nothing as they walked the street toward the parking lot.
Finally in their car, they both breathed a sigh of relief.
“That felt too easy,” said U-Jin.
“I’m thinking the same thing,” said Tanner. “Do you think they knew and wanted us to do what we were doing?”
“I don’t know but we got a ton of information off that laptop. It won’t just effect the president but others as well. He gave the order to kill Margaret. He’ll fry for that alone.”
“Well, we’ll have to get all this sorted and to the Vice President first. We can only hope that he does the right thing with all of this.”
“How do we ensure that?” asked U-Jin. Tanner didn’t answer him and he just shook his head. “It was easier when I was an assassin and took an order to kill someone and just did it. I didn’t ask why. I should have but I didn’t. This feels like a man that should be killed without question.”
“Maybe but everyone deserves their say,” said Tanner. “I just don’t think he’s going to say anything that will make us feel better.”
