The Lucifer Code by Charles Brokaw

the upper left-hand corner revealed how long ago Lourds had gone missing.
    ‘Five hours and forty-two minutes, sir.’
    Webster bit into his roll and chewed thoughtfully. ‘That’s a long time.’
    ‘I’ve got people on it, sir. We’re using all available intel sources. Including ELINT and HUMINT.’
    The vice-president nodded. ‘I know you’ve got good people over there.’
    ‘ We’ve got good people over there, sir.’
    ‘Of course. We do.’ Webster sipped his wine. ‘This is my fault, actually. I didn’t get the information to you about Lourds in time for you to make all the preparations you needed to. I shot you in the foot on this one.’
    That was another reason everyone liked Elliott Webster so much. When he made mistakes, he owned up to them and then he worked to correct them.
    ‘I assume the men killed at the airport were our assets?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘What about the other men who were killed in the car crash and in the alley? Do you have anything on them yet?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’ Dawson pointed to his briefcase. ‘If I may?’
    The vice-president nodded and reached for another roll.
    Dawson took out the encrypted computer and placed it on the table. He opened it, powered it up, entered his password, and pressed his right forefinger and left ring finger on the two fingerprint scanners. The password changed hourly and the combination of fingerprints changed twice daily. In the beginning, getting the rhythm of those changes had been difficult.
    The screen flared to life and quickly searched for the local WiFi connection. Once the connection had been accessed, a red and yellow CIA TOP SECRET screen saver flashed on. But that was just window dressing to scare off normal hackers who might have got their hands on the computer. Dawson entered a series of keystrokes that shut down the main drive and opened up a small partition drive disguised within the computer’s OS file registry.
    ‘First of all, we haven’t been able to learn anything about the three kidnappers who were killed,’ Dawson said after all the requisite connections had been made.
    ‘That’s disappointing.’
    ‘Yes, sir. But the woman is a different story.’ Dawson brought up a picture of her.
    ‘That’s a pretty young woman.’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘She intercepted Lourds at the airport.’
    ‘Yes, sir. Lourds has an obvious weakness for pretty young women based on the history we’ve been able to dig up.’
    ‘Young women.’
    ‘That’s right, sir. Evidently our opposition knows that.’
    ‘Who is she?’
    Dawson’s fingers tapped commands quickly on the keyboard. More pictures of the woman filled the screen. There weren’t very many, but there were enough. Some of them showed her on the street talking to people. Others were of her in a bar.
    ‘Her name is Cleena MacKenna.’
    ‘Irish?’
    Dawson nodded. ‘Very Irish. Her father, Ryan MacKenna, was part of the Continuity Irish Republican Army. He was responsible for a number of attacks against the British military and Royal Ulster Constabulary. Some reports I’ve seen put his kills at seven, others at thirteen.’
    Dawson tapped more keys and photographs of MacKenna’s victims showed.
    ‘A dangerous man,’ Webster commented. ‘However, the world seems full of them these days. Is he involved with this?’
    ‘No, sir. Ryan MacKenna was killed six years ago.’ Dawson brought up the news clippings. ‘Evidently he got caught up in an arms deal that went sour. A Chinese street gang called the Hungry Ghosts intercepted him and his seller. Both of them were murdered.’
    ‘If MacKenna’s not involved with this, why mention him?’
    ‘Because I think Professor Lourds’ weakness may be exploitable for us.’
    ‘Explain.’
    Dawson went back to the pictures of Cleena MacKenna. ‘When Ryan MacKenna was killed, he left behind two daughters. Years before, his wife was killed in their home, supposedly by police officers seeking revenge for one of their number that