On day two of waiting for word on the elusive Arizona trio of Gifted something new got dropped on us. Again. “They targeted tech firms again,” Hennesy said, looming over me at my crowded workspace as I analyzed some bit of drone hardware recovered from somewhere in the case. The shape of his thoughts left no doubt about who he was talking about. “Very surgical this time, they’re learning that public opinion isn’t with them.”
“What did they do?” I asked, only partially relaxing from the sudden feeling of dread. Whatever it was, at this point they had to know they were only digging themselves deeper. So surgical must mean precise, not necessarily harmless.
“They crop dusted the employee parking lots at four major firms as the dayshift was leaving.”
“Crop dusted?” I raised an eyebrow. That could be harmless or a major escalation. “With what?”
“Whatever it was it had peanuts in it. Over two dozen people had allergic reactions of varying degrees.” Hennesy snorted. “If this was supposed to be a joke then I don’t think people will find it very funny. Lots of people are allergic to peanuts.”
It didn’t sound like an escalation at first blush but Hennesy was right. A lot of people would probably see it as such. Maybe that was what they wanted, maybe they just hoped the ambiguity would buy them a little more time before they were seen as really malicious. I wasn’t sure who they were hoping wouldn’t see them as malicious if the later was the case, the news hadn’t been kind to them and we were already pursuing them as hard as we could. “Any obvious connections between the companies?”
“I’ve been digging into Silicon Valley firms since before you were licensed to practice, Armor,” Hennesy said. “Every company here is connected to all the others. It’s a terribly incestuous place, kina like Wall Street. And yes, all these firms also have connections back to Company A as well. I don’t know how they all shape up yet, but we’ve got people working on it so we should know soon.”
“Are they looking into connections with A.J. Jackson?”
Hennesy hesitated for a moment. “You’re really invested in that line of investigation, aren’t you?”
“His name has come up pretty much since moment one.” I shrugged, knowing just as well as Hennesy did how little that often meant. “I get it, he could just be Silicon Valley’s whipping boy of the week. Still, I’d rather run it down than leave it to chance.”
“I get you,” Hennesy replied. “But we don’t have the manpower to follow every lead. I’ll try and get someone looking at it. On the bright side, the folks in Arizona can keep looking for your missing sisters and their dad without impacting things in here. I’ll let you know if we hear anything.”
“Do you need me at any of the crime scenes?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer but I was also curious to see what a place looked like after a malicious crop dusting.
“No.” He answered without hesitation. “There’s not much in the way of physical evidence to look at other than residue from whatever it was they misted the places with. And we don’t want anyone touching that until we know what it is. There’s a bright side, though.”
There was a clear tinge of malicious satisfaction behind that simple declaration. “What’s that?”
“This time we caught them on satellite.”
Actually we caught their drones on satellite, not the perpetrators themselves. It was a step in the right direction but not nearly what I’d originally hoped for.
“There’s a formation of four at each location, pretty standard agricultural machines,” Eugene told me, pulling the image up on his screen. “They swoop in, make two passes over people as they come out of the building, then leave. There was no attempt to pursue anyone leaving the building or avoid empty portions of the parking lot so our guess is they were preprogrammed, rather than piloted.”
“How did we even get these shots?” I asked, visions of military spy satellites dancing in my head.
“I don’t know, and I don’t think we’re going to find out.” Eugene’s mind was going to much the same places as mine but nothing in his thoughts pointed to him actually knowing the answer any more than I did. “I’m not an expert but the files looked like they’d had all info on their source scrubbed. But this is a really high profile case, so maybe they got the military to move some resources into geosynchronous orbit. Not our problem.”
“But what does that really tell us?” I asked, straightening up and moving away from his desk a bit. Eugene’s naturally antisocial personality permeated his surroundings and radiated off of his workspace like it was asphalt on a sunny day. I’d need to move the conversation out of his cubicle soon or I’d get a serious headache.
“Two things. First, they’re using a different type of drone, one that looks like it matches one of three commercially available models popular in the northern part of the state.” He clicked over to a different image that showed three different models of drones, the mismatched background showing they’d been pulled from different sources. Probably advertising materials. “We’re trying to see if anyone’s placed a large order from any local dealers recently.”
“Wouldn’t farmers want more than a couple of these?” I asked. “We could wind up with a lot of dead ends…”
“Trust me, at what these things run most operations aren’t wanting more than three or four. More importantly, they have a top speed of fifteen miles an hour and a maximum flight time of half an hour.” Eugene pulled up a map showing the four attack sites in relation to each other with large red rings showing how far the drones could have travelled with their flight capacity. The two southern locations had overlapping rings, as did the two northern locations. “And just like that we have launch zones. Standard forensic teams are already combing these areas over with a fine toothed comb. If they find anything it’s definitely coming back for a psychometric evaluation.”
“Why did they change pattern?” I wondered aloud.
Eugene turned in his chair to give me a skeptical look. “It was a drone attack targeting Silicon Valley. How is that a break in pattern?”
“Based on the hardware we found in the car wreck right before the electrical grid attack I’m certain that was done using custom drones under remote operation. Same for the initial attack, based on how delicate positioning a drone in the loading dock door at the exact moment that delivery truck entered must have been-“
“The drone didn’t show up on security cameras around the dock so we think it must have somehow attached itself to the truck before it arrived,” Eugene interjected.
“Either way, an operation that you can’t just program into it,” I pointed out. “And all those attacks used custom drones, not commercially available ones. Do we know what they sprayed?”
“Officially? No. Unofficially, it looks like it was just peanut oil diluted with something to make it mist better.”
“On the other hand, if I understand the other two attack properly, they were both at least partially facilitated by pinpoint EMP use.” I tapped my gloved fingers thoughtfully on my chest. “They were symbolic.”
Eugene was used to my thinking out loud so he just motioned for me to go on.
“The first two attacks were technological attacks on firms that have created some the most influential technologies of our time and, arguably, were misusing the resulting influence. A reminder that they shouldn’t get too full of themselves – there’s always someone better out there.” I paced out of the cubicle, moving away from its headache inducing atmosphere. Eugene got up from his chair and trailed along behind. “But today… none of those threads. New companies, new attack method, no symbolism. Unless it’s agricultural versus service industry? No, that doesn’t seem likely…”
I stopped short and swiveled back to Eugene. “Looking at evidence won’t cut it. I need to go and look at one of those staging ones myself. Have you seen Agent Chase?”
“Not this morning.”
I titled my head, tapping my sim card and calling her phone. I let it ring for a minute, then hung up. “No answer. Eugene, I need to get out there before any trace impressions left behind fade.”
“You think this might be some kind of misdirect?”
“Or a copycat attack.”
Eugene sighed and doubled back towards his cubicle. “I’ll get my keys. Meet me by my car.”
“Want me to let Hennesy know we’re leaving?”
“I’ll do it,” he called back, his surface thoughts clearly indicating he wouldn’t. “This had better not get me in trouble, Armor.”
He was hoping nothing would come of it and so he wouldn’t catch any flack for doing something technically another Agent’s job. For all his pessimism about human nature, Eugene’s remarkably optimistic about events working out the way he wants. I could have told Hennesy we were leaving myself, but I decided to humor him and let his little white lie stand.
That was my first mistake of the day.