Calculated Extortion Read online

  “You must be Dr. Callahan. I’m Martín Vásquez. Thank you for making the time for me.” Martín had barely a trace of the Argentinian accent he’d likely had when he immigrated to America some thirty years prior. He’d applied for US citizenship as soon as he was able and received it after a lengthy waiting period, according to his records. Martín placed himself back behind his desk and carefully folded his hands on top of it. While his smile was pleasant, his feet, made visible by the minimalist design of his desk, pointed towards the exit. She could hardly blame him for wanting to bolt, but she was there to determine if his desire to leave was because he wanted to find the hacker or he was afraid the FBI would find out he was guilty of the crime.

  “Yes, I’m Scarlett Callahan, FBI. It’s very nice to meet you. Of course. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

  “I think the damage has been done.” Martín met her eyes and Scarlett let the question hang in the air. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, he began to backpedal. “I mean, the risk gets higher every time they break into the system. Surely they won’t try again. Don’t you think?”

  Scarlett reached into her bag and pulled out a pen to buy time before answering. She was cautious in her habits as she frequently spoke with frightened witnesses and liars. Still unsure of which one she was dealing with, she stuck to her plan. “Let’s see, your systems went down twelve days ago until you paid a ransom. It happened again in very much the same fashion two days ago. Given the contents of the text message you received, what makes you think this individual would stop?”

  “They have everything they asked for. I don’t know why they wouldn’t quit while they’re ahead.” He rubbed one arm as he waited for Scarlett’s answer, only stopping to adjust his tie. Digging for her opinion while nervously fidgeting; yeah, she’d let him sweat a little longer. She took a few extra seconds and ran a finger down her page of notes.

  “Did you track the payments back to the source?”

  Martín rubbed his face before returning both hands to the top of his desk. “No. They requested we use a type of digital currency.” Scarlett winced. Their criminal’s use of cryptocurrency would give them yet another layer of data to dig through. “The software companies we use for our computer systems are just pointing at each other and my IT expert hasn’t been unable to track it any further. So we came to you guys.”

  She almost called him out on the lie but instead decided to see how far he took it. The original intake report stated that the insurance company would not reimburse them for the attack unless they reported it to the authorities.

  Martín looked up at the ceiling and back at her with a red face. He added quietly, “And the insurance company required we contact you. We wanted to try and stop it on our own first. We should be able to stop it. I mean, I’ve been kidnapped before. Just one of those where they stop you on the side of the road at gunpoint until your family pays. Not like a real kidnapping. What I mean to say, is that I thought we could handle something like this on our own.”

  Excess storytelling could indicate truthfulness and his nervous behavior could reasonably be attributed to distress. Martín Vásquez certainly had reason to be distressed. Well, shoot. He still might be the good guy after all.

  Scarlett turned to a blank page in her notebook. “Catching a hacker is harder than it sounds, and your thief seems to be escalating his or her attacks. That’s why we’re here. Do you have any reason to suspect someone would target you or your organization?”

  Martín pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his face. “Not really. It seems they could have picked a number of better targets.”

  Scarlett chose not to point out that since they had successfully extracted money from his organization not once but twice, their culprit had done a pretty effective job of picking a target. Morality wasn’t always a factor for the types of people willing to commit these crimes. “Let’s pursue that line of reasoning. If the charity is not a good target, they might have had opportunity. Do your systems have any known vulnerabilities?”

  “We’ve never had an incident before this, and we’re as careful as we know how to be. We regularly receive financial information about our donors and our recipients. The nature of the information we possess can be quite sensitive and we thought we were well-protected. Under the circumstances, I thought it was wise to pay the ransom after I logged in and verified the systems were locked down. Shortly after I paid, I received a security key that let us get everything back online.”

  “And did they gain access to your financial information?”

  “There’s no sign of a breach. I recommended we bring some outside experts to verify that, just in case we’re missing something. My IT director is still looking but I am told it’s not always easy to tell. So, we’ll have to let you know.” Martín’s voice cracked and he swallowed hard. “Does this sort of thing happen often?”

  “Often enough that the FBI has a cybercrime division, I’m afraid. We’re concerned about larger attacks, such as on our infrastructure, but occasionally, companies get hit too. Something like this gets high priority in case it’s just one piece of a broader attack strategy or someone testing out their ransomware at a small scale before going global with it.”

  “Oh. I never considered that.”

  “We unfortunately see these things too often. It’s important to get any trace of the ransomware removed in case your hacker left a way back in. You’ve done that, right?”

  Martín paused too long before answering with a question. “And your team can help us with this?”

  Scarlett winced. “I’ll have someone from our team reach out to your IT contact. I’d like to recommend that you allow a couple of agents from our Chicago office to come in and discreetly talk to your people. Even with all the advances in technology, there’s no substitute for solid, on-the-ground human intelligence. One person with the right access can do a lot of damage without leaving much of a trail. Also, I would limit the spread of information on this as much as possible. I’d rather take our hacker by surprise.”

  “We’ve checked our records and are confident our people are not involved in this. Really, we’re like one big family.”

  Scarlett nodded once instead of explaining that there were psychologists whose sole specialty was undoing the damage inflicted by familial dysfunction. “Even families have their own problems. You are now out $30,000 and no closer to finding your culprit. Are you willing to bet on more?”

  Martín picked up his phone. “I’ll get you what you need. And I won’t let my people know the FBI is involved.” Before he could dial, Scarlett held up a hand.

  “Mr. Vásquez, before I go, you may want to consider a little extra security until we sort this mess out.” The phone returned to its place on the hook and Martín folded his arms on his desk.

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Sir, I hate to point this out, but so far, we keep underestimating our criminal.” Scarlett generously used the word “we” because while Martín was a little naïve about his people, he’d turned to her for help, described the situation accurately, and was turning out to be a decent person. More likely than not, he had acted irrationally in his haste to do the right thing and took on more responsibility than he should have. It was hardly unusual for someone in such a high leadership position to rush to handle a difficult situation before it spiraled out of control.

  Martín set his lips in a line. “I have a few people that provide security in some of the locations in which we operate. I’ll make sure they’re around the office. It might not just be me that this person is after.”

  Four

  “So, did Scarlett say we get to go out and play?” Alexis said from atop Parker’s desk. She’d hopped up into her usual spot and Parker leaned back and crossed his arms in response. Alexis was a close friend and great agent, but she was not known for her patience—particularly when she hadn’t been allowed in the field for a while.

  Parker raised an eyebrow. “You
have a problem, my friend.”

  “Says the pot to the kettle. Wipe that smile off your face, and I’ll believe you aren’t looking forward to getting out of the office too. I know you’re working on our covers. What do I get to be?”

  Parker pulled up a screen and gestured for her to look. “We’ll go in as a group. Coming in as donors might cause people to ask questions, so I went with something less obvious.”

  “Good call.”

  “Acting like we’re in IT will raise suspicions.”

  “Agreed. So what are we?”

  “Efficiency consultants.”

  “Dear God. People will hate us.”

  Parker grinned. “Most likely. But if people get worried we’re going to come in to lay them off, they might actually answer our questions. We’ll start tomorrow.” Alexis jumped off of his desk and bumped fists with Parker. Alexis was right—the longer he looked at the files, the stronger his own itch to get out of the office became. No amount of remote research could replace a good conversation.

  A message popped up on his screen from his longtime friend and partner in the field, Mike Moretti. His last assignment had ended and he was now available to help out if he was needed. Mike preferred to run point in the surveillance van, but Parker’s boss and unit chief, Patrick “Sandy” Sandhill, had an uncanny ability to hone in on and leverage his people’s talents. Unfortunately for Mike, and fortunately for the Bureau, Mikey’s ability to put together seemingly unrelated details on his cases had not gone unnoticed. It was just a matter of time before Sandy stopped letting him do all of his work in the field and made him spend a little more time in the office, teaching the newer agents. After reading the message, Parker adjusted his plan to account for three agents. Now was as good of a time as any to bring him into this.

  Mike Moretti pulled a high-end sedan into the loading zone outside of a building several blocks from the FBI field office. The silver Mercedes drove like a dream but wasn’t as practical as his usual ride, a FBI-issued surveillance van. However, like the van, the Mercedes had its purpose. Parker and Alexis appeared from around a corner, and he raised a hand to his head in salute.

  Alexis dropped into the passenger’s seat. “Hey Mikey. Nice to see you again.” She wore a light grey suit and her hair was swept back up into some kind of fancy twist that women did. She didn’t quite hide her grin as buckled her seat belt.

  Mike raised a suspicious eyebrow. “How long has it been since Sandy let you out of the office?”

  “Too long, Mikey. In fact, long enough to even make me happy to see you.”

  Parker clung to a paper cup of coffee with one hand while he settled into the backseat and gave a sleepy nod in Mike’s general direction. Silence was golden for Parker before 9 a.m. Generally, Mike would be happy to ask Parker questions just to drive him nuts, but he was still a step behind on this case. He needed the drive time to process the information Parker had emailed him yesterday. Mike wasn’t the type to over-sentimentalize a situation that didn’t call for it, but it was hard not to feel some sympathy for a respected charity bleeding out money to pay ransoms.

  Like his fellow field agents, Mike was dressed for the role he would play today. Mike wore a black suit and a clean shave. He ran some gel through his black hair this morning to make it look like he was the sort of man who cared about his appearance.

  While he was vocal about his preference for working behind the scenes, it wasn’t because he sucked at undercover work. He could just process more streams of information if he wasn’t in the middle of the action. However, since the new profiler had convinced the CEO to let the FBI come talk to his people, the least he could do was help with some old-fashioned intelligence gathering. Sure, cybercrime was one of the newest types of crime they dealt with, but it still sprouted from the same handful of motives that drove their other perpetrators.

  Mike turned the car into an open spot in the crowded parking garage, and they rode silently in the elevator to the World Partners for Peace offices. A cheerful administrative assistant directed the three agents to a computer to register their visit. She hummed as she printed off their temporary badges.

  A door swung open and three World Partners for Peace employees filed into the lobby, each wearing a different expression, ranging from discomfort to disdain. Each agent split off from the group to the person nearest them and introductions were made. A thin, older woman clutching a notebook approached Mike with a straight back and tight smile. He held out his right hand when Barbara Rosenthal introduced herself. She offered a hand and kept a firm grip as she looked at Mike over her bifocals, once up and then down. Her eyes narrowed when they reached his perfectly polished shoes. Mike stood a little taller under her appraisal. She released his hand and harrumphed out a breath. “And you are Mr. –?”

  “Delaney. Mike Delaney. I’m a workforce efficiency consultant and I’m here to learn more about your charity.”

  “I’ll just bet you are.”

  Parker was right about at least one thing—everyone was too irritated by his presence to doubt his cover story. Barbara looked like the kind, grandmotherly type, and even she was practically growling at him. Hopefully, Parker hadn’t overplayed their hand. Mike acted as if he hadn’t noticed her obvious annoyance and continued to follow his planned script.

  “Would you mind giving me the tour and introducing me to the staff?”

  “Not at all. That’s what I’m here for,” Barbara said flatly and led him through a glass door into a large common area. There was a low hum of activity through the space. Phones rang and friendly voices recited information while other employees had their heads down at their desk, focused on their work, as if tours like theirs were commonplace. Perhaps they were. That was worth knowing.

  “How long have you been with the company, Barbara?” Mike asked Barbara’s back, as she led him past a row of high cubicle walls.

  Without turning around, Barbara answered, “Charity. You mean charity, Mr. Delaney. I’ve worked here for fifteen years and am the Director of Donor Relations. This is where our volunteers sit.” As they rounded a corner, several young people looked up curiously from their workstations. Four volunteers were crammed into a space slightly larger than a standard cubicle. A poster over the entrance to the area read “Intrepid Interns” above a picture of the impossibly tiny Gemini spacecraft. Funny, but the joke was highbrow humor. World Partners wasn’t recruiting just anyone.

  “Are they volunteers or interns?” Mike gestured to the sign.

  “You pick what you’d like to call them, but they’re not paid, Mr. Delaney. You’ll want to leave them out of your cost analysis,” Barbara said. Three of the four acted as if they hadn’t heard the comment but one of the young girl’s eyes widened. A gentle elbow from one of her fellow volunteers made her turn back to face her computer, and Barbara began to steer him away from the small group.

  Mike sighed. He wasn’t going to win Barbara over like this. “Do you mind if I meet them? I’m interested in what they do.”

  “Okay.” Barbara came back to join him at the entrance to the crowded workspace and gestured to each intern as she introduced them. “This is Emma. She’s sixteen and manages all of our websites. Susanne is working on analyzing our microloan data to find out where people default and how to prevent it. Bryan is helping us understand how often we lose shipments of food and medical supplies and how that impacts the effectiveness of our programs. Kevin is helping the PR team design more effective ways to communicate via social media platforms. We’re grateful for their help.”

  “Wow. Sounds like they keep you guys busy. Thanks for your help.” The interns smiled, all blissfully oblivious to Barbara’s disdain for him, except Emma, whose concern for Barbara reached the corners of her mouth. Barbara turned on a heel to continue her tour and Mike gave a quick wave to the interns before following her. As they walked down a hallway, Mike asked, “Do you have any trouble recruiting people to come work at a not-for-profit?”

  Barbara paused, tur
ned, and smiled the sort of genuine smile that lit up her entire face, the first he’d seen it since they’d met. “Actually, we have the rare gift of being in high demand. Mr. Vásquez has a reputation for hiring talented, motivated employees. Millennials especially. The media and a lot of for-profits can’t seem to figure out what motivates Millennials, but it’s simply not that difficult. A lot of them just want to make a difference while making a living wage. Mr. Vásquez can offer that. We’re changing the world here, and we have a line of talented people who want to help us do it.”

  As if realizing once more that he was the enemy, Barbara’s features stiffened when she held a door open for him. “And now we have the accounting department.” Mike entered a quiet room with several people focused on their computers. While the room was as bright as the main area from the large windows, it was much quieter. It didn’t escape Mike’s notice that the minute he walked in, someone changed what they were doing on a screen. It was too bad the FBI hadn’t convinced World Partners to give Jordan access to the financials, or he’d know what they were trying to hide. Instead, he meandered over to the accountant who was now exuding calm.

  Mike extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Mike Delaney. I’m an efficiency consultant.”

  The woman offered a tentative smile and met his hand with a light grip. “Oh. Hi Mike. My name is Jen Duncan. I’m an accountant here.”

  Mike smiled a warm smile and gestured to her screen. Acting charming didn’t come as easily to him as it did for Alexis and Parker, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play the game. “Wonderful. It’s very nice to meet you, Jen. Could you tell me a little bit about your job?”

  Barbara had drifted off to answer a question, and Jen twisted a pencil in her fingers. “Sure. I analyze charitable opportunities and make recommendations about where we should allocate our funds. I’m focused on individuals who have faced extraordinarily difficult challenges who are a good fit with our mission.”