Countermeasure (3 page)

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra snapped back to the present. She clasped her hands on her lap and waited for her father to take his seat. Across from her, Robert pressed his fingers together in a steeple and contemplated her. She maintained eye contact and tried not to squirm as she heard the unsaid reprimands in her head.

“Cassandra,” her father finally broke the silence with an exasperated voice.

“Yes sir?”

“Over the past two weeks you’ve arrived late at least three times. Not like you.”

“I know, sir. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

Cassandra picked up her pencil and opened the folder. Robert got the drift and dropped the subject, but not before giving her a long, hard stare.

“You requested a briefing on my thoughts after reviewing the Bristol file. Would you like to hear it?”

Robert waved his hand indicating she should start. She quickly glanced through her notes and proceeded to give him her report.

“It looks like the company is using pretty reliable servers, but what I found interesting is that, even with all that power, they’re still using an outside source to manage, monitor, and run their clinical tests. This leaves them vulnerable to hacking. Too many cooks stirring the pot. Too many opportunities for someone to pinch data files, both internally and externally, through EXClinic, the third-party provider.”

Glancing up, she thought she caught a glimpse of a smile lurking around her father’s mouth but she couldn’t be sure.

“Take Jessica and whomever else you need and check them both out. Once you have the dates and times for the recon, let me know and I’ll advise them you’re coming.”

Robert turned his chair to look back out the window. Dismissed, Cassandra collected the file and her notebook and walked to the door. She paused and looked back. “Sir?”

Robert glanced in her direction, “Yes?”

She heard the distraction in his voice. “Thank you for giving me this chance. I promise not to let you down.”

“You won’t, Cassandra. You won’t.” Robert turned to the window again.

She closed Robert’s office door and sighed in relief at having the meeting behind her. Ever since she was a little girl, her survival instincts always kicked in where her father was concerned. His military training and high expectations had been drilled into Cassandra’s makeup; to this day she had never rocked the boat.
Someday maybe things will change and I won’t feel like a child in his presence.
The fleeting thought crossed her mind, but deep in her heart she knew it would take a damn miracle.

Back at her office, she tossed the file on the desk, grabbed her bag, and headed back out the door to meet up with Jessica.

Jessica stood outside the building tapping her foot impatiently, a sprite of energy as usual.

Cassandra grinned as she observed her friend of many years. A petite, blue-eyed, blonde-haired pixie, Jessica had always been easygoing and carefree—so different from Cassandra in every way.

Ten years back, they had become fast friends after Cassandra tackled and humiliated the school bully, who had been harassing the tiny blonde. They still laughed at how red his face had turned and the ribbing he had taken from his friends when he couldn’t push Cassandra off his chest. Pinning his forearms with her knees, she had refused to budge until he had sworn before the entire school that he would leave Jessica alone.

Jessica always told the story as one where Cassandra had saved her from the school bully. Little did Jessica know, she had in fact been the one to save Cassandra when she introduced her to a world with fewer rules and more fun. Since that day, Jessica’s self-proclaimed mission in life had been to break Cassandra’s straight-laced shell wide open—but so far she had only managed to crack it.

“About time, Cassie,” Jessica sighed.

“Oh please, Jessie. I am only a minute late. Besides, it’s not like we don’t know where we’re going; you’ll whine if we don’t go to Fuego’s in The Alley for Mexican.”

Laughing, Jessica grabbed her hand and dragged her down the street. “Well, they do have the best enchiladas in town. What can I say? You can’t fix perfection.”

Their walk to the restaurant was quick and Jessica kept Cassandra entertained with her description of her nap during Robert’s morning meeting. Apparently there was a lot of head bobbing involved, much to Cassandra’s chagrin.

Reaching their destination, they walked through the door of the restaurant and waved to Eduardo, their regular waiter, as they headed to their favorite table. Within minutes, tea and chips and salsa were set before them as Eduardo let them know their lunch would be served shortly.

Shaking her head, Cassandra grinned at Jessica. “Damn! Gotta love a place where you just have to walk in the door and have your every need met.”

Jessica guffawed. “Well, almost every need. It will be every need when we walk in the door and they have gorgeous men waiting for us as well.”

“Nope, not happening.” Cassandra took a chip, dipped it in the salsa, and popped it in her mouth. “Not interested in a relationship. Men are high maintenance, and relationships only bring pain.”

Jessica flicked a chip across the table at her and sat back in her chair. Her expression became sober as she looked at her best friend. “Seriously Cassie, you don’t believe that.”

Cassandra brushed the chip off her lap where it had landed. “Yes, I do. Look at Bob. My mom has been gone since…forever. He has never even so much as looked at another woman. I never want to feel that kind of pain.”

Jessica shook her head and suddenly grinned widely. Seeing the grin, Cassandra shot her a questioning look.

“Oh man, Cassie. When he walks through the door, you’re going down!”

Cassandra, still not understanding, looked behind her at the restaurant’s door. “Who? What door?”

Jessica let out a deep belly laugh. When she could finally breathe she gasped, “The man who is going to sweep you off your feet, sister. And the door? It’s the one you keep so tightly closed around your heart. It will happen. You have my word on it.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at Jessica’s and leaned back so Eduardo could set their lunch plates down. Thanking him, she inhaled the enticing aroma of the enchilada. When he left, she picked up her fork and pointed it in Jessica’s direction, grumbling, “Not interested, Jessie. I have enough problems already.”

They pushed the discussion about love aside and dove into the delicious food. Over the next half hour, they ate in comfortable silence intermingled with a soft moan each time Jessica took a bite.

Cassandra sat back in her chair and groaned. “Damn, I’m stuffed!”

Watching her friend still eating with gusto, she recalled how mealtime used to be a military chore as a kid, one of necessity and always conducted in silence. Jessica had introduced Cassandra to “culinary delight” and had showed her what it was like to dine—how to enjoy good food and drinks in the company of friends.

Jessica slumped back against her own chair and unbuttoned the top button of her slacks. “That was so good, but now I feel like I could burst.” Taking a sip of tea, she caught Cassandra’s gaze. “So how did it go with Bob?”

Cassandra gnawed on her lip a second before answering. “Well, believe it or not, I’m lead and you’ve been assigned to the job, too. Snap, Jessie! I can’t screw this up.”

Contemplating her friend, all signs of humor disappeared from Jessica’s face. “Cassie, you’re good at what you do.
You
have to stop beating yourself up.”

Cassandra knew her friend was right, yet the promise she had made to herself after she had been shot played in her mind. To avoid another possible betrayal, she never delegated. It had become her policy to personally explore all possible outcomes down to the smallest detail whenever working a case—no stone unturned. “I know, Jessie, but easier said than done. Anyway, want to know what we are up against?”

Jessica nodded and Cassandra began to brief her. She smiled at her friend’s military-style report. “Our client is Bristol, a large pharmaceutical company. They are conducting Phase IV clinical testing on a revolutionary formula that promises to make them a ton of money. Billions have been spent in the initial phases. It seems the stockholders are all happy about the future cash cow. Because of the use and worldwide ramifications of the new formula, there is a data security concern on their behalf.”

Jessica processed the information. “So what’s the big deal? We go in, check for traps and back doors, plug them up, and get out.”

Cassandra nodded, “You’d think it would be that easy. But it turns out that Bristol is using a third-party host to run, manage, and analyze their latest trials and data. That is where the risk comes in. EXClinic was founded in 2000. Their products are designed to support the end-to-end process in Clinical Data Management, from trial set up to implementation and archiving. Most of their clients are big pharmaceutical companies, medical device manufacturers, and some clinical research organizations. It’s the archiving piece that we will be focusing on, making sure that all security protocols are in place. We need to meet face-to-face with the Bristol people to collect access codes and naming conventions they’ve used for the clinical trials.”

Puzzled, Jessica asked, “What do you mean by ‘naming conventions’?”

Raising her hand to catch Eduardo’s attention and signaling for the check, Cassandra continued, “In the pharma industry, paranoia runs amuck so they tend to assign a random string of letters and numbers instead of names to the drugs they’re testing. Sometimes they do name them like they do in the movies—you know, like the drugs Chimera and Bellerophon in
Mission Impossible
? They actually do that in the industry. Once we have all the information we need, we can check EXClinic security protocols in depth. I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

They paid the bill and left the restaurant, waving goodbye to Eduardo on their way out. Stepping into the bright sunlight, Cassandra said, “I’ll tell Bob to schedule the meeting with Bristol for the day after tomorrow.”

They walked the short distance to the office in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Once back at work they headed their separate ways with a hug, after making arrangements to meet the next day to prep for the Bristol visit.

****

After several hours deep in analysis, Cassandra realized that time had flown by. It was late. Sitting back in her chair, she stretched and rolled her shoulders. Robert had called earlier to confirm the meeting to take place in two days. She was more than ready for it. Running through her to-do list, she checked off some items: Jessica notified of the meeting; Bristol project file created; information and background checks on key employees listed in the file. Last on the list was groceries.

Damn.
Cassandra rubbed the bridge of her nose, mumbling, “Hate grocery shopping.” She continued to mumble to herself while downloading the project file to her thumb drive and shutting down her station. Cassandra mentally inventoried the contents of her refrigerator—leftover Chinese, leftover pizza, jelly, and a Guinness. She perked up at the image of the Guinness in her mind and chuckled, “I bet that isn’t considered a food substitute.”

Dropping the thumb drive in her bag, she shouldered it and headed out. Even with a stop for food, Cassandra made it home in record time. Probably the only benefit of working late—she never had to worry about being stuck in rush-hour traffic.

She made a beeline for the kitchen, set the bag with the cardboard container on the island counter, and kicked off her shoes. Jessica had buzzed earlier to see if she wanted to go out, but Cassandra had begged off, using lack of sleep as an excuse.

It was the truth—she was beat. Being beat was also the reason for the cardboard container. Not having the energy for grocery shopping, she had stopped at her favorite bar and grill on her way home instead. She had ordered a steak sandwich to go, which was even now tempting her with its delicious aroma. Pulling the thumb drive from her bag, Cassandra slid it into her pocket before taking a plate from the cabinet and loading it with the sandwich and house fries.

She grabbed the Guinness from the fridge, popped the top, picked up the plate, and carried both to her office in a fluid motion. She set the plate on the desk and booted the computer. While waiting for it to start, she took a swig from the beer and enjoyed the smooth nutty flavor as it flowed over her tongue.

Once logged in, she pulled the thumb drive from her pocket, plugged it in, and quickly opened the project file for Bristol. Her plan was to work until she could no longer keep her eyes open. Maybe the late hours would mean a dreamless night.

****

Over the next few hours, in between bites of her sandwich, she beefed up the project file. Rubbing her eyes, Cassandra marked a comment in the file to search for video and pictures of the employees listed. She would add a study of their expressions to the file later.

Cassandra had developed her skills in the psychology of facial expressions as part of her training and work with the CIA. So much goes unsaid, but every facial movement could be associated with an emotion. Between the current information added to the project file, background checks initiated that evening, and the base-line facial-expression analysis, her team would have plenty of information on which to base their approach for safeguarding Bristol’s data.

She yawned, hoping it meant she’d finally get some sleep. Deciding to head to bed, she closed all browser windows, saved her project file, and copied it to the thumb drive. She took her plate and beer bottle back to the kitchen, turned on the house alarm, and shut off the lights on her way to her bedroom.

While waiting for sleep to overtake her, Cassandra stared into the darkness and ran through the information she had collected. Many minutes later, still wide awake, she blew air out her mouth in frustration and rolled over on to her side. Looking at the clock on the nightstand she checked to make sure the alarm was set. She didn’t want to be late for work again. Worried the alarm wouldn’t wake her, she grabbed her cell from the table and quickly sent a text to Jessica asking her to call when she was up—just in case. Satisfied she had covered all bases, Cassandra buried her head in her pillow and wished she could just turn off her mind like she had the lights. Eventually her breathing slowed and eyelids grew heavy. She finally drifted to sleep in the midst of reviewing the contingency plan for the fourth time.