Chapter 81
Leon Pace almost dropped the phone in shock.
“I don’t believe it!”
“I’m sorry, but the media has verified the story. Your cousin was found dead in his cell.”
Without another word, Leon terminated the call.
Mark would never kill himself. Never.
The bastards, he thought.
Then, the tears came. Mark was not just family. He had been Leon’s closest friend. Whether chasing girls or raking in profits, they had been a team from the earliest days. And now he was gone. Forever.
And then the guilt. He should have visited him more. Gotten better lawyers. Given himself up. Leveraged the organization to get rid of the evidence.
He cried until there were no tears left to come.
***
Alan Groosjean thought about killing himself. Many times. And every time, he stopped to think, If I’m gone, they win. Do I really want to give them the victory?
He thought about the wife and kids. They were right, and he was wrong. He should have been a better husband and father. But he wasn’t. That was how he ended up living in a casino.
Somehow, he would get them back. Time heals all wounds. He just needed to get things back in order.
It started at work. He played the good soldier, taking on tasks that no one else wanted. Adhered to every policy. Took every diversity and sensitivity training class without complaint.
Curiously, he didn’t worry about passing information anymore. After all, it wasn’t his decision. The FBI agents prepared all the data. His role was to read and digest it, transmit to James and Simon, and be prepared to answer questions. That was it.
His debts were still a problem, but there was no quick fix. It would take years to pay it all off. The only thing he could do was regulate his current spending. No more girlfriends or strip clubs. It was almost amusing, living a monkish type of life at a casino. But all the hits he had taken in the last year had beaten any desire to gamble out of him. He didn’t even play the slots.
Eventually, he was allowed to visit the family. They all noticed how quiet he had become. He listened politely to their stories of school. Alan did not complain to them about his work or his living quarters. He was contrite, sober, and reasonable. He greeted the wife’s new boyfriend warmly. Groosjean had no problem with the man’s participation in his children’s lives and activities.
***
“So Mark Pace checked out early.”
“No tears shed here,” said Detective Jones.
“Do you think someone helped him?”
“In prison, you never know. But it doesn’t really matter. Either way, he’s gone.”
“What about Leon?”
“All we can do is wait and see.”
***
Sam Trenchard surveyed his latest assignment. Another government official. Harvey Doningston worked for the local state motor vehicles office. A wife and two kids. Apparently, his salary was enough to afford a three-bedroom apartment with lavish furnishings.
While conducting research, he noticed delays at the security checkpoint. Not for the tenants—they were quickly waved through. But every uniformed workman was held up for at least 15 minutes for screening. It didn’t matter how much they whined and complained. Each and every one of them had to wait.
The fake work order scam was over, Trenchard thought. He would have to find a new way in.
***
Ken Brownling watched as the cyber consultants installed software on company machines and phones. The other employees were suitably grateful to have protection from threats advertised in the news every day.
The cynical part of Kenny understood the profit-based motive of cyber companies. Beat the drum constantly, raise the panic level, then offer solutions for a price. He had seen the magic work way back with the Y2K scare. All that money and time spent, and when the big day came and went, there was no real impact. The triumphant security people said, “See? Our measures were effective!”
Too effective for their own good. Feeling safe, executives saw no reason for big fat IT budgets and cut expenses. Predictably, the tech bubble popped, and that game was over.
For years, security firms searched for the next Y2K. Cyber threats were the answer. And this time, not just a one-time thing. If the Russians aren’t your problem, maybe the North Koreans are. Not worried about state-sponsored terrorism? Then we’ll counsel you about protecting financial data. Oh, you’re secure there already? Then you’d better worry about internal theft by shifty employees.
Brownling had his own issues to worry about. Simon’s consultants had come and gone to encrypt their data. It was Kenny’s job to make sure no one else noticed. If they did, he had explanations ready to explain why the data was encrypted and deflect further inquiries.