“Technically, they don’t qualify for the list.”
“Why’s that?”
They’re a nonpublic company. They dominate their field, expanding like
crazy, and doing it all without capital from the public markets.”
“Impressive. How does that tie in to a plane taking a nosedive into the
Virginia countryside?”
“Several months ago Triton suspected that certain proprietary
information was being leaked to a competitor. They called us in to
verify the suspicion and, if true, to discover the leak.”
“Did you?”
Hardy nodded. “We first narrowed down the list of those competitors who
were most likely to participate in such a scheme. Once we had those
nailed down, we undertook surveillance.”
“That must’ve been tough. Big companies, thousands of employees,
hundreds of offices.”
“It was a daunting challenge, at first. However, our information led us
to believe the leak was fairly senior, so we kept our eye on high-level
Triton people.”
Lee Sawyer settled farther back in his chair and sipped his coffee.
“So you identified some other ‘unofficial’ places where the exchange
might take place and set up your snooping shop?”
Hardy smiled. “Sure you don’t want that job?”
Sawyer shrugged off the compliment. “So what happened?”
“We identified a number of these ‘unofficial’ locations, property owned
by our suspect companies and which seemed to have no legitimate
operational purpose. At each of these sites we set up surveillance.”
Hardy smiled sardonically at his former colleague. “Don’t read me the
riot act over trespassing and other related legal violations, Lee.
Sometimes the ends do justify the means.”
“Not arguing with you there. I wish we could take shortcuts sometimes.
But then we’d have a hundred lawyers screaming ‘unconstitutional’ and
there goes my pension.”
“Anyway, two days ago a routine inspection was made of a surveillance
camera set up inside a warehouse building located near Seattle.”
“What led you to stake out that particular warehouse?”
“Information we developed led us to believe that the building was owned,
through a string of subsidiaries and partnerships, by the RTG Group.
They’re one of Triton’s major global competitors.”
“What was the nature of the information Triton believed was being
leaked? Technology?”
“No. Triton was involved in negotiations for the acquisition of a very
valuable software company called CyberCom. We believe that information
on those negotiations was being leaked to RTG, information that RTG
could use to step in and buy the company itself, since it would know
Triton’s terms and negotiating position. Based on the video you’re
about to see, we’ve made subtle noises to RTG.
They’ve denied everything, of course. They’re claiming that the
warehouse was leased last year to an unaffiliated company. We checked
out the company. It’s nonexistent. Meaning RTG is lying or we’ve got
another player in this game.”
Sawyer nodded. “Okay. Tell me about the tie-in to my case.”
Hardy responded by pushing a button on the remote. The large-screen TV
sprung to life. Sawyer and Hardy watched as the scene in the small room
in the warehouse was replayed. When the tall young man accepted the
silver case from the older gentlemen, Hardy froze the screen. He looked
over at Sawyer’s puzzled face. Hardy pulled a laser pointer from his
shirt pocket to highlight the young man.
“This man is employed by Triton Global. We didn’t have him on the
surveillance list because he wasn’t senior-level management and he
wasn’t directly involved in the acquisition negotiations.”
“Despite that, he’s obviously your leak. Recognize anyone else?”
Hardy shook his head. “Not yet. The man’s name, by the way, is Jason
W. Archer of 611 Morgan Lane in Jefferson County, Virginia.
Sound familiar?”
Sawyer concentrated hard. The name did seem to ring a bell.
Then it suddenly hit him like a half-ton truck. “Jesus Christ!” He half
rose out of his chair, eyes bulging at the face on the screen as the
name shot out at him from a passenger manifest that he had scrutinized a
hundred times already. At the bottom of the screen, digital images
paraded across. The date and time stamp read NOVEMBER 17, 1995 11:15 am
PST. Sawyer’s quick eyes took in the information with one glance and he
calculated rapidly. Seven hours after the plane had crashed in