Chavez had thought his father-in-law might snap out of his funk at some point during the twenty-six-hour trip to Manado. But if anything, Clark had turned more introspective with each passing minute.
Chavez tapped the plastic lid on his cup with a forefinger to get the man’s attention. “What’s bothering you?”
Clark glanced up, moving only his eyes, startled from a deep thought.
“You mean besides e-sports?”
“Come on, John,” Chavez said. “You want to talk about it?”
Clark gave a contemplative nod. “I’ve thought it over, and… no, I do not want to talk about it. But I will anyway, since it’s you doing the asking.” He exhaled sharply through his mouth. “A SEAL buddy of mine passed away. That’s all.”
Chavez grimaced. “Man, I’m sorry to hear that. KIA?”
“No,” Clark said, gazing into the distance, still stunned by the news. “I should have said
“Damn,” Chavez said, not knowing what else to say. Sometimes, keeping your piehole shut was the better part of valor. His phone began to vibrate on the table, rescuing him from the conversation he’d started. It was Jack Junior.
“What’s up?”
“We checked out Suparman Games,” Ryan said. “This location downtown is just a storefront. There are some publicity offices in back along with a small storage room for the games they stock, but no corporate offices. Sounds like Suparman, his VPs, and software development folks are located south of the city. I’m betting he’d keep the software locked up out there. Adara and Midas are going to drive that way and scope it out. But get this, the door to the back offices at this location has a scramble pad. Adara was able to get close enough to get the brand and type. She struck up a conversation with the armed guard, too. He’s here during the day, but he mostly looks for shoplifters. She commented about how safe it was and the guy told her that was nothing. According to him, Suparman really likes his security tech. The other place supposedly has retina-scan locks.”
“And an armed guard?” Chavez said, rubbing his face, thinking about getting a warm-up for his coffee.
“
“Okay,” Chavez mused. “Tighter security makes me think you’re right. We’ll try the main office first, then the storefront. Tell Midas and Adara to make the recon quick. You and Dom go to your rooms and recheck your gear. This one is time-sensitive and we wasted a day getting here. Your keys are waiting for you at the front desk under the name on your passport. Stop by my room to grab your gear.”
Ryan’s full beard helped conceal his identity, but his name was far too recognizable, especially since his father was all over the news in Indonesia at the moment. Fortunately, The Campus had friends at State who could help them out with different passports. It was standard practice in the intelligence and clandestine world to use actual given names on any alias. Jack, however, was too obvious. When he traveled, Jack Ryan, Jr., became Joseph “Joe” Peterson of Alexandria, Virginia.
“Copy that,” Ryan said. “I’ll pass the word to Adara and Midas to hurry.”
Chavez ended the call, and then, struck with a sudden idea, turned to Clark. “Let’s head over to the hotel. I want to give Gavin a shout, and I need you on the line.”
“Lead on, McDuff,” Clark said, heaving a glum sigh.
“We’re all gonna die, John,” Chavez said. “
“Don’t I know it,” Clark said. “I just expected the
Chavez punched in Gavin Biery’s number as soon as they got to his room. He put the phone on speaker and set it on the lacquer coffee table between him and Clark.
“Hey, bud,” Chavez said when the IT director picked up. “What can you tell me about retina-scan locks?”
“Are you sure the tech is retina and not iris scan?” Biery asked.
“No.” Chavez raised his eyebrows at Clark. “They’re not the same?” He caught himself. “I mean, I know the anatomical differences in parts of an eyeball. I’m asking about the security mechanisms.”
