Page 16 of The 24th Hour

“Come as you are,” Steinmetz said, and hung up.

A half hour and a couple of aspirins later, Joe was signing in at the fifteenth-floor desk when Steinmetz called out to him. The chief stood behind him at the doorway between the offices and reception area. Joe crossed the blue, insignia-embossed carpet to shake hands.

Steinmetz was sixtyish but looked seventy. He’d put on some weight and lost some hair since they’d last worked together, and the older man looked worried.

“I’ve got an assignment for you, Molinari. I think you’ll like it. Even if you don’t, you’re needed. We’ve got a situation …”

The chief’s voice trailed off as he and Joe entered the corner office. While Steinmetz had changed, his office looked as it always had: a worn blue carpet, plain government-issue oaken desk, two flags—California and USA—and a picture window behind them. Bookshelves were to his left and right, and a half a dozen photos of Steinmetz shaking hands with high-ranking government officials hung on the wall near his desk.

Yet one thing was new.

A well-turned-out thirtysomething Chinese woman sat in one of the chairs facing the chief’s desk, hands clasped in her lap. She turned her head to look at Joe as he came toward the desk. He noted her charcoal-gray pantsuit, white men’s tailored shirt, minimal makeup, and short wash-n-go hair. He, having dressed for speed, was wearing a khaki shirt, chinos, and work boots. Plus an untrimmed twenty-four-hour-old beard and plumber’s putty under his fingernails.

Steinmetz said, “Joe. Have a seat. Meet Bao Wong, director of cyberterrorism, DC office. Bao, this is Joe Molinari.”

Joe dusted off his hands on his back pockets, shook hands with Director Wong, and took the chair beside her. Steinmetz gave Bao the thirty-second version of Joe’s decades in government service; first, a few years with the FBI, then even longer with the CIA, followed by getting drafted by DHS as deputy director.

“Later, he went back to DC for another tour,” Steinmetz said.

Joe said, “I’m a risk assessment consultant specializing in port security, and I have background in cyber threats.”

“Actually, I’ve followed your career, Joe,” Bao said. “Great to meet you in person.”

Coffee was served in FBI-branded mugs as Steinmetz told the agents about the case that had brought them together.

“Two weeks ago, Oakland Pediatrics’ computer network was breached, for Christ’s sake. The hospital had a cybersecurity system in place, but some dope in a back office—a doctor, actually—clicked on a phishing site and let the dogs in. The hackers called themselves 123 Boom. Whoever they are, they put Oakland Pediatrics in a twenty-four-hour choke hold. Then,boom.”

Steinmetz swiveled his chair so that he faced the street and talked to the glass.

“They input incorrect medical formulas and protocols, resulting in four neonatal deaths. The hospital was underinsured. The ransom was seventeen million in Bitcoin to get their data back. The hospital paid. The encryption keys were returned. The hackers evaporated. The babies stayed dead. Lawsuits pending.”

Bao Wong said, “The hackers can take what they got from Oakland, tweak it, and use it on them again. Or they can use it elsewhere.”

“‘Elsewhere’ called an hour ago,” said Steinmetz, swiveling back to face the two people who might be a hospital’s last resort. “Joe, now they’re threatening St. Vartan’s. Boom is demanding eighteen million dollars in”—Steinmetz lookedat his watch—“forty-seven hours. By 9:00 a.m. Friday, we’ve either shut these killers down, or St. Vartan’s lights go out. They lose all of their patient records, past and present, and whatever archived information they’ve stored on dead patients. As a sweet farewell, 123 Boom will also have embedded digital land mines in the network.”

Steinmetz stood up, seizing his coffee mug. “Please tell Joe the rest, Bao,” he said. “I’m meeting with the governor to fill him in. Contact me the moment you have something, and good luck.”

CHAPTER 15

JOE AND BAO got into Joe’s old Mercedes and headed out to St. Vartan’s by way of Van Ness Avenue.

Bao said, “Gotta make a quick call.”

She took out her phone and, seconds later, said, “It’s me.” She listened, then said, “That’s so good, Cam. You did it!”

When she clicked off, she said, “My son Cameron’s nine. Got the lead in a class play. Linesandsinging.”

She beamed at Joe.

Joe said, “Hey. That’s great.”

“You’d think so. The lead role is a talking frog. Cam’s been practice-belching for weeks now. Driving his mother crazy.”

Joe laughed along with Bao. “I’ve got a little girl. I think Julie would also love to be a frog.”

Bao said, “I just don’t see the attraction to amphibians.”

Joe laughed again, and relayed Julie’s alligator-going-to-the-dentist story. Then, with the ticking clock in mind, he asked, “So what do we know about 123 Boom?”

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