CHAPTER EIGHT
The next afternoon, John looked across his desk at Samantha Jones, his Technical Development Manager. “Did Harry get back to you?”
Sam shuffled through the folders in front of her, then passed him a stapled set of papers. “He’s looked at the financial records and reports that Oracom has made public. They’ve got a diverse portfolio of interests, ranging from rice production to solar power technology. There wasn’t a clear reference to military weapons or equipment, but they did have an emerging technologies sector with a large multi-billion dollar budget.”
“Were you able to identify who manages that particular sector?”
Tanner stepped forward. He’d been leaning against the back wall, watching the small group in front of John share what they knew. “That’s where it gets interesting. Their organizational chart shows someone called Darshive Fredericks as being in charge. Except Darshive Fredericks died six months ago in a car accident. The executive secretary from another team told me they were in the process of recruiting for the role. What she wouldn’t tell me is who’s temporarily doing the job while recruitment takes place.”
“Has anyone got anything to add?” John looked at Martin and Sebastian, two of his longest-serving staff. Both men had been in the military. They were loyal and reliable, two qualities that John never took for granted.
Martin looked John in the eye. “The CIA won’t confirm anything, but we think they’ve planted an undercover agent in the recruitment process.”
“Maybe two,” Sebastian said in his usual deadpan way. “I’ve tried hacking Oracom’s digital network, but I’m not getting very far. The firewalls they’ve designed are some of the best I’ve ever seen.”
“Did you see Dan Carter?”
Sebastian nodded. “He’s increased police security at the airport and they’re keeping a close eye on what’s happening around town. It’s not easy. The heavy snow has brought all of the skiers and snow bunnies out to Big Sky Resort. The population around Bozeman has almost doubled over the last month.”
John tried not to be disappointed by the slow progress they were making. His brother wasn’t the only person convinced that the government wouldn’t find the people responsible for the death threats. The Department of Defense’s main concern was keeping the design of the drone safe from unwanted eyes. Death threats weren’t high on the National Risk Register, unless you were the President of the United States.
He turned to Tank. “Did you find out who the ice-skater was on Emerald Lake?”
“Mallory Fraser. She’s a distant cousin of Tess Allen.” Tank passed John a folder. “She’s been working in Orlando as a physical therapist. According to the people I spoke with, she’s heading home in another month’s time. No prior convictions. Nothing that would throw a red flag in the air.”
John opened the folder and looked at the picture of the pretty blond woman. “Is she staying with Tess and Logan?”
“No. She’s boarding with the McFallon sisters in town.”
John closed the folder and handed it back to Tank. “What’s next?”
“I also did a background check on Franky Smith, the kid with red hair that’s become Bella’s friend.” Tank waited for John to nod before continuing. “His family has had a tough few years. His dad hit a rough patch a couple of years ago and dropped out of sight. He lost his job, left home, and didn’t contact anyone. There was talk about him living in the mountains, but nothing was ever confirmed. When he came back, his wife left him. He eventually got a job pumping gas.”
“Does Franky have any brothers or sisters?” John asked.
“A younger sister. She goes to Bozeman Elementary School.”
John leaned back in his chair and stared at the folder in Tank’s hands.
“Franky’s a good kid,” Tank said softly. “He helps at The Lighthouse and with Pastor Steven’s youth group.”
John knew all about the good work that Pastor Steven was doing. He ran a drop-in center for anyone who needed a hot meal and a safe place to stay. Tess Allen and Annie Bayliss supplied enough meals for everyone and other people helped where they could.
John gave Pastor Steven a substantial donation each year. It filled the gap when it came to buying clothes, paying utility bills, or giving people a helping hand they needed it.
He lifted his gaze from the computer. “Thanks, Tank.”
“There’s one other thing, boss. Franky’s dad used to be in the Detroit Police Department. Something must have happened to send him over the edge.”
“Has he been getting any help?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to find out?”
John picked up the papers Sam had left on his desk. “Bella and Rachel are your primary concern. But if you get the opportunity, ask Pastor Steven about Franky’s dad. Keep it discreet. And find out if there’s anything we can do to help him.”
He flipped through the report about Oracom and stopped at the financial statements. “If we can’t get evidence that Oracom are behind the death threats, maybe we can get them another way. Is Harry looking into any off-shore transactions where large amounts of money have changed hands?”
“Harry isn’t the only person looking,” Sam said. “The CIA has been delving into Oracom’s financial practices as well. If there’s anything remotely illegal, we’ll find it.”
“Hopefully before the CIA,” Tanner muttered. “You know how those guys are…once they have some information they’re not happy about sharing it.”
John did know, but he wasn’t going to let that stop what they were doing. “We’ll be one step ahead of them.”
And he hoped, one step ahead of the person threatening to kill him.