Terminal Compromise - Winn Schwartau (fiction book recommendations TXT) 📗

that they will be used. But I have other

questions.” Scott hoped to mislead Henson into thinking he would

ask the pat questions he was expected to ask.

“Yes, thank you. My staff is very well prepared, and we try to

give the press adequate information. What do you need?” Scott

could hear the smiling Henson ready to play the press game.

“Basically, Mr. Henson, I have some documents that suggest that

you inflated the net earnings of Second Boston to such a degree

that, if, and I say, if, the deal goes through, your firm will

earn almost one million dollars in extra fees. However, the

figures I have do not agree at all with those filed with the SEC.

Would you care to comment?” Scott tried not to sound accusatory,

but it was difficult not to play the adversary.

Henson didn’t try to conceal the cough he suddenly developed at

the revelation. “Where,” he choked, “where did you get that

information?”

“From a reliable source. We are looking for a confirmation and a

comment. We know the data is correct.” Scott was playing his

King, but he still held an Ace if he needed it.

“I have no comment. We have filed all required affidavits with

the appropriate regulatory agencies. If you need anything else,

then I suggest you call them.” Henson was nervous and the phone

wires conveyed his agitation.

“I assume, Mr. Henson, that you won’t mind that I ask them why

files from your computer dispute figures you gave to the SEC?”

Scott posed the question to give Henson an option.

“That’s not what I said,” Henson said abruptly. “What computer

figures?”

“I have a set of printouts that show that the earnings figures

for Second Boston are substantially below those stated in your

filings. Simple and dry. Do you have a comment?” Scott stuck

with the game plan.

“I . . .uh . . .am not familiar . . .with . . .the . . .ah . . .”

Henson hesitated and then decided to go on the offensive. “You

have nothing. Nothing. It’s a trap,” Henson affirmed.

“Sir, thank you for your time.” Scott hung up after Henson

repeatedly denied any improprieties.

“This is Scott Mason for Senator Rickfield. I am with the New

York City Times.” Scott almost demanded a conversation with

Washington’s leading debunker of the Defense Department’s over

spending.

“May I tell the Senator what this is in reference to?” The male

secretary matter of factly asked.

“Yes of course.” Scott was overly polite. “General Young and

Credit Suisse.”

“Excuse me?” the young aide asked innocently.

“That will do. I need a comment before I go to print.” Scott

commanded an assurance that the aide was not used to hearing from

the press.

“Wait one moment please,” the aide said. A few seconds of Muzak

on hold bored Scott before Senator Merrill Rickfield picked up

the call. He was belligerent.

“What the hell is this about?” The senator demanded.

“Is that for the record?” Scott calmly asked.

“Is what for the record? Who the hell is this? You can’t intim-

idate me. I am a United States Senator.” The self assurance gave

away nervousness.

“I mean no disrespect, Senator. I am working on an article about

political compromise. Very simple. I have information that you

and General Young, shall we say, have . . .an understanding. As

a member of the Senate Intelligence Committee, you have helped

pass legislation that gave you both what you wanted. General

Young got his weapons and you have a substantial bank account in

Geneva. Comments, Senator?”

Rickfield was beside himself but was forced to maintain a formal

composure. “Sir. You have made some serious accusations, slan-

derous at least, criminal I suspect. I hope you are prepared to

back up these preposterous claims.” Scott heard desperation in

the Senator’s voice.

“Yessir, I am. I go to print, with or without your comments,”

Scott lied. A prolonged pause followed. The first person who

spoke lost, so Scott busied himself with a crossword puzzle until

Rickfield spoke.

“If you publish these absurdities, I will sue you and your paper

right into bankruptcy. Do you copy?”

“I copy , Senator. Is that for attribution?” Scott knew that

would piss off Rickfield. The line went dead.

Scott made similar calls for a good part of the day, and he

continued to be amazed.

From call to call, the answers were the same. “How did you get

that?” “Where did you find out?” “There’s no way you could know

that.” “I was the only one who had access to that . . .” “That

was in my private files . . .”

Blue Tower Nuclear Plant denied that Scott held internal memos

instructing safety engineers to withhold critical flaws from the

Nuclear Regulatory Committee. General Autos denied using known

faulty parts in Cruise Control mechanisms despite the fact that

Scott held a copy of a SECRET internal memorandum. He especially

upset the Department of Defense when he asked them how Senors

Mendez and Rodriguez, CIA operatives, had set up Noriega.

The Center for Disease Control reacted with abject terror at the

thought of seeing the name of thousands of AIDS victims in the

newspaper. Never the less, the CDC refused to comfirm that their

files had been penetrated or any of the names on the list.

Useless.

Everyone he called gave him virtually the same story. Above and

beyond the official denial to any press; far from the accusatory

claims which were universally denied for a wide variety of rea-

sons, all of his contacts were, in his opinion, honestly shocked

that he even had a hint of their alleged infractions.

Scott Mason began to feel he was part of a conspiracy, one in

which everyone he called was a victim. One in which he received

the same formatted answer; more surprise than denial.

Scott knew he was onto a story, but he had no idea what it was.

He had in his possession damning data, from an anonymous source,

with, thus far, no way to get a confirmation. Damn. He needed

that for the next time he got lawyered.

When he presented his case to his editor, Scott’s worst fears

were confirmed. Doug McGuire decided that a bigger story was in

the making. Therefore, we don’t go. Not yet. That’s an order.

Keep digging.

“And while you’re at it,” Doug said with the pleasure of a father

teasing his son, “follow this up, will you? I need it by dead-

line.”

Scott took the AP printout from Doug and read the item.

“No,” Scott gasped, “not another virus!” He threw the paper on

his desk. “I’m up to my ass in . . .”

“Viruses,” Doug said firmly, but grinning.

“Have a heart, these things are such bullshit.”

“Then say so. But say something.”

Chapter 7 Thursday, September 17 New York City Times Christopher Columbus Brings Disease to America By Scott Mason

Here’s a story I can’t resist, regardless of the absurdity of the

headline. In this case the words are borrowed from a story title

in last week’s National Expose, that most revered of journalistic

publications which distributes half truths and tortured conclu-

sions from publicity seeking nobodies.

The title should more appropriately be something like,

“Terror Feared in New Computer Virus Outbreak”, or

“Experts See Potential Damage to Computer Systems”, or

“Columbus Day Virus: Imaginary Panic?”

According to computer experts, this Columbus Day, October 12,

will mark a repeat appearance of the now infamous Columbus Day

Virus. As for the last several years, that is the anticipated

date for a highly viral computer virus to ‘explode’. The history

behind the headline reads from an Ian Fleming novel.

In late 1988, a group of West German hackers and computer pro-

grammers thought it would be great fun to build their own comput-

er virus. As my regular readers recall, a computer virus is an

unsolicited and unwanted computer program whose sole purpose is

to wreak havoc in computers. Either by destroying important files

or otherwise damaging the system.

We now know that that these Germans are part of an underground

group known as CHAOS, an acronym for Computer Hackers Against

Open Systems, whatever the heck that means. They work to promote

computer systems disruption worldwide.

In March of 1989, Amsterdam, Holland, hosted an international

conference of computer programmers. Are you ready for the name?

Intergalactic Hackers Conference. Some members were aware of the

planned virus. As a result of the negative publicity hackers

have gotten over the last few years, the Conference issued a

statement disavowing the propagation and creation of computer

viruses. All very honorable by a group of people whose sole

purpose in life is to invade the privacy of others. But, that’s

what they said.

Somewhere, somehow, something went wrong, and the CHAOS virus got

released at the Intergalactic Hackers meetings. In other words,

files and programs, supposedly legitimate ones, got corrupted by

this disreputable band, and the infections began spreading.

The first outbreak of the Columbus Day Virus occurred in 1989,

and caused millions of dollars of down