Perfect Cover
Page 30
“I’ll go.” Tara spoke immediately.
“Guess that means I’m in, too,” I said. I wasn’t sure, but I was going to go out on a limb and guess that going to Libya would get me out of Mr. Corkin’s class and cheerleading practice. If I was lucky, it might even get me out of Saturday’s halftime performance. Besides, there was such a thing as loyalty. I wasn’t about to let Tara go it alone.
“No and hell no,” Brooke said, responding to us in order. “Tara, you’re too close to it, and Toby, (a) you’re not eighteen yet and therefore not eligible for any mission designated post-eighteen, and (b) you’re a mess. No offense.”
Why was it that girls like Brooke always said something offensive, and then followed it with the phrase no offense? And what was up with having to wait until I was eighteen to go on any of the really cool missions? I vaguely recalled Brooke saying that at age eighteen we had the option of being promoted to full CIA status, and yeah, I could see the legal benefits to only letting the older, more trained girls go international, but that didn’t mean that I had to be happy about it, and it didn’t mean that I planned to wait another two years before I got in on the action.
“Zee, you’re in,” Brooke said. “So am I. Lucy, we’ll need complete weapons hookup in less than an hour. The Big Guys will have their fastest jet here within the hour, but it’ll still be a ten-hour flight, minimum. Chloe—”
Chloe waited, her arms crossed over her chest.
“—I need you here. Getting this agent out is only half of our problem. If I know Peyton—and believe me, I do—this is only the beginning. I think there’s a very real chance that this was the freebie, a show of good faith that they gave Heath Shannon to prove that they’ve got legitimate information. Once Shannon’s clients manage to verify the information, they’ll want more, and one guess as to when that particular exchange will be going down.”
Bubbles waved her hand madly in the air.
“Yes, Bubbles?” Brooke said.
“Four o’clock today,” Bubbles said brightly, proud of her inference skills.
“Okay,” Chloe said. “I get it. We need to send a team in to intercept the data Shannon’s collecting from Peyton.” She paused. “And we need to hack Infotech ASAP, crash their system, and make sure they can’t get any more of our intel.”
It seemed simple enough. One trip to Infotech to shut down the leak, and one trip to Peyton to take down Heath Shannon and keep him from passing on any more information to his terrorist contacts. Personally, I was liking this plan a lot better than the one that involved me seducing Jack Peyton.
Unfortunately, fate (and Brooke) was against me. “Getting into Peyton and bugging their offices is still important, but right now, the most important thing is stopping this transfer and containing the leak. After that, you can do your…thing with Jack.”
I wanted to go on the record that Jack and I would not be doing any thinging, but didn’t have the chance.
“Does that mean we’re moving the party back?” April asked glumly.
The twins looked absolutely scandalized by the very idea.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brooke said. “Chloe will take a team to Infotech this morning. You guys should plan to be back by lunch so you can spread the word about the party, and then head over to Peyton during seventh period. The party won’t start until nine or ten tonight—that should give everyone plenty of time to get ready, even if Zee and I will have to play hooky because of the whole Libya thing.”
I glanced around the room and verified that, yes, I was the only one who seemed to be thinking that this time frame and Brooke’s priorities qualified her for the loony bin.
“You think you can get the agent out with only two people?” Tara asked.
Brooke gave her a look that made me think a “no offense” statement was forthcoming, but in the end, all she did was smile and nod.
“Zee, you’ll handle our covers?” Brooke’s voice rose at the end of the sentence, but everyone (including Zee) knew that it was an order, not a request. Brooke Camden didn’t make requests.
Zee ran her tongue over her lip as she thought. “Let me download some information on Al Jawf,” she said, “but we’ll probably go with either visiting schoolgirls or actresses there for an on-location shoot, unless antifemale sentiment is too high, in which case we’ll go with a blender.”
“Blender?” I mouthed at Tara.
“Blending in,” she said.
I looked at Brooke and then at Zee. Boobaliciousness and blending didn’t exactly go together.
Brooke turned to the twins. “Prepare wardrobes for all three scenarios,” she told them. “And get ready to hyperdye us.”
Our great and mighty captain stopped talking then, and without being told, the rest of the Squad began to disperse. Lucy skipped off to prepare “goody bags” filled with firepower, bulletproof bras, and stun guns; the twins sauntered toward the salon; Zee whipped a laptop out of her designer bag; and Brooke disappeared through an unmarked door without another word.
Bubbles, Chloe, April, Tara, and I stayed at the table, staring at each other. The second Brooke was out of sight, Chloe sat up a little straighter, tossed her perfect hair over one shoulder, and took the bull by the balls (or, in cheerleading terms, took the pom by its handle).
“If the actual exchange is taking place inside the firm, I think we can assume that we’re not getting in, which means that our best bet to stop the transaction from going through is to take Heath Shannon out after he picks up the data, but before he can send it to his clients.”
“What if it’s an online transaction?” I said. “I know the Big Guys seem to think it’s going to be a physical exchange, but what if Heath delivers the money and then Peyton just sends the info electronically?” With the speed of modern internet connections, we wouldn’t stand a chance at intercepting the information before it made its way into enemy hands.
“Peyton’s system is secure,” Chloe said. “Annoyingly so, but one of the reasons we haven’t been able to pin anything on them over the years is that they don’t leave a paper trail of any kind. Witnesses disappear. Data self-destructs, and when it comes to stuff like this, they don’t risk exposure online.”
“So we’re looking for what? A flash drive?”
Chloe nodded. “Something like that.” She pursed her lips, thinking. “We’ll want to keep our numbers down,” she said. “Sending agents anywhere near Peyton, Kaufman, and Gray is risky, and we can’t take the chance of exposure. We’ll go in undercover.”
“Define we,” Tara said. I noticed a marked change in her. Ever since Libya had come up, most of the tension in her body had melted away until all that was left was the cool exterior the school knew and loved. I didn’t need Zee’s PhD to infer that Tara’s parents were probably not stationed in Al Jawf.
“You’re in on this one, Tare,” Chloe said. “I’m going, obviously, and Lucy, since we might need some weapons analysis.” Chloe stopped talking and had to actually force herself to continue. “And I guess you.” She was absolutely thrilled to be talking to me, but since we were talking about a mission that involved data technology and hand-to-hand interaction with a very dangerous guy, the black belt/ hacker of the group was an obvious choice. So obvious that even Chloe had to make it, despite how much it obviously pained her to do so. “I’ll have the specifics by seventh period.” Chloe tossed her hair over her shoulder, a motion I interpreted as indicative of how drunk on power she currently was. “For now, we need to concentrate on the Infotech hack.
“I got some basic surveillance reports on Infotech off the disk our superiors sent,” she said. “According to the reports, Infotech operates under two different wireless units. The first is broader range and could feasibly be accessed from the street in front of the building. The second is confined to the executive wing, and the general wireless more or less serves to insulate that area from outside interference.”
Translation: to hack into the executive database, I didn’t just need to be inside the building; I needed to be inside the executive wing.
“Guess that means I’m in, too,” I said. I wasn’t sure, but I was going to go out on a limb and guess that going to Libya would get me out of Mr. Corkin’s class and cheerleading practice. If I was lucky, it might even get me out of Saturday’s halftime performance. Besides, there was such a thing as loyalty. I wasn’t about to let Tara go it alone.
“No and hell no,” Brooke said, responding to us in order. “Tara, you’re too close to it, and Toby, (a) you’re not eighteen yet and therefore not eligible for any mission designated post-eighteen, and (b) you’re a mess. No offense.”
Why was it that girls like Brooke always said something offensive, and then followed it with the phrase no offense? And what was up with having to wait until I was eighteen to go on any of the really cool missions? I vaguely recalled Brooke saying that at age eighteen we had the option of being promoted to full CIA status, and yeah, I could see the legal benefits to only letting the older, more trained girls go international, but that didn’t mean that I had to be happy about it, and it didn’t mean that I planned to wait another two years before I got in on the action.
“Zee, you’re in,” Brooke said. “So am I. Lucy, we’ll need complete weapons hookup in less than an hour. The Big Guys will have their fastest jet here within the hour, but it’ll still be a ten-hour flight, minimum. Chloe—”
Chloe waited, her arms crossed over her chest.
“—I need you here. Getting this agent out is only half of our problem. If I know Peyton—and believe me, I do—this is only the beginning. I think there’s a very real chance that this was the freebie, a show of good faith that they gave Heath Shannon to prove that they’ve got legitimate information. Once Shannon’s clients manage to verify the information, they’ll want more, and one guess as to when that particular exchange will be going down.”
Bubbles waved her hand madly in the air.
“Yes, Bubbles?” Brooke said.
“Four o’clock today,” Bubbles said brightly, proud of her inference skills.
“Okay,” Chloe said. “I get it. We need to send a team in to intercept the data Shannon’s collecting from Peyton.” She paused. “And we need to hack Infotech ASAP, crash their system, and make sure they can’t get any more of our intel.”
It seemed simple enough. One trip to Infotech to shut down the leak, and one trip to Peyton to take down Heath Shannon and keep him from passing on any more information to his terrorist contacts. Personally, I was liking this plan a lot better than the one that involved me seducing Jack Peyton.
Unfortunately, fate (and Brooke) was against me. “Getting into Peyton and bugging their offices is still important, but right now, the most important thing is stopping this transfer and containing the leak. After that, you can do your…thing with Jack.”
I wanted to go on the record that Jack and I would not be doing any thinging, but didn’t have the chance.
“Does that mean we’re moving the party back?” April asked glumly.
The twins looked absolutely scandalized by the very idea.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brooke said. “Chloe will take a team to Infotech this morning. You guys should plan to be back by lunch so you can spread the word about the party, and then head over to Peyton during seventh period. The party won’t start until nine or ten tonight—that should give everyone plenty of time to get ready, even if Zee and I will have to play hooky because of the whole Libya thing.”
I glanced around the room and verified that, yes, I was the only one who seemed to be thinking that this time frame and Brooke’s priorities qualified her for the loony bin.
“You think you can get the agent out with only two people?” Tara asked.
Brooke gave her a look that made me think a “no offense” statement was forthcoming, but in the end, all she did was smile and nod.
“Zee, you’ll handle our covers?” Brooke’s voice rose at the end of the sentence, but everyone (including Zee) knew that it was an order, not a request. Brooke Camden didn’t make requests.
Zee ran her tongue over her lip as she thought. “Let me download some information on Al Jawf,” she said, “but we’ll probably go with either visiting schoolgirls or actresses there for an on-location shoot, unless antifemale sentiment is too high, in which case we’ll go with a blender.”
“Blender?” I mouthed at Tara.
“Blending in,” she said.
I looked at Brooke and then at Zee. Boobaliciousness and blending didn’t exactly go together.
Brooke turned to the twins. “Prepare wardrobes for all three scenarios,” she told them. “And get ready to hyperdye us.”
Our great and mighty captain stopped talking then, and without being told, the rest of the Squad began to disperse. Lucy skipped off to prepare “goody bags” filled with firepower, bulletproof bras, and stun guns; the twins sauntered toward the salon; Zee whipped a laptop out of her designer bag; and Brooke disappeared through an unmarked door without another word.
Bubbles, Chloe, April, Tara, and I stayed at the table, staring at each other. The second Brooke was out of sight, Chloe sat up a little straighter, tossed her perfect hair over one shoulder, and took the bull by the balls (or, in cheerleading terms, took the pom by its handle).
“If the actual exchange is taking place inside the firm, I think we can assume that we’re not getting in, which means that our best bet to stop the transaction from going through is to take Heath Shannon out after he picks up the data, but before he can send it to his clients.”
“What if it’s an online transaction?” I said. “I know the Big Guys seem to think it’s going to be a physical exchange, but what if Heath delivers the money and then Peyton just sends the info electronically?” With the speed of modern internet connections, we wouldn’t stand a chance at intercepting the information before it made its way into enemy hands.
“Peyton’s system is secure,” Chloe said. “Annoyingly so, but one of the reasons we haven’t been able to pin anything on them over the years is that they don’t leave a paper trail of any kind. Witnesses disappear. Data self-destructs, and when it comes to stuff like this, they don’t risk exposure online.”
“So we’re looking for what? A flash drive?”
Chloe nodded. “Something like that.” She pursed her lips, thinking. “We’ll want to keep our numbers down,” she said. “Sending agents anywhere near Peyton, Kaufman, and Gray is risky, and we can’t take the chance of exposure. We’ll go in undercover.”
“Define we,” Tara said. I noticed a marked change in her. Ever since Libya had come up, most of the tension in her body had melted away until all that was left was the cool exterior the school knew and loved. I didn’t need Zee’s PhD to infer that Tara’s parents were probably not stationed in Al Jawf.
“You’re in on this one, Tare,” Chloe said. “I’m going, obviously, and Lucy, since we might need some weapons analysis.” Chloe stopped talking and had to actually force herself to continue. “And I guess you.” She was absolutely thrilled to be talking to me, but since we were talking about a mission that involved data technology and hand-to-hand interaction with a very dangerous guy, the black belt/ hacker of the group was an obvious choice. So obvious that even Chloe had to make it, despite how much it obviously pained her to do so. “I’ll have the specifics by seventh period.” Chloe tossed her hair over her shoulder, a motion I interpreted as indicative of how drunk on power she currently was. “For now, we need to concentrate on the Infotech hack.
“I got some basic surveillance reports on Infotech off the disk our superiors sent,” she said. “According to the reports, Infotech operates under two different wireless units. The first is broader range and could feasibly be accessed from the street in front of the building. The second is confined to the executive wing, and the general wireless more or less serves to insulate that area from outside interference.”
Translation: to hack into the executive database, I didn’t just need to be inside the building; I needed to be inside the executive wing.
