Page 12 of Duty Compromised
“Compromised.” I tasted the word’s bitterness. “You mean stolen. Someone stole the Cascade Protocol from the FBI.”
“Possibly.”
“How?” The question came out as sharp as fractured glass. “We provided quantum encryption specifications. The storage protocols I designed were?—”
“The breach wasn’t technical.” His admission made everything infinitely worse. “The agent handling your case…Agent David Reeves…he died last week.”
“Died.” Alex’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.
“Initially ruled a suicide. We were reorganizing his caseload when we discovered irregularities.”
“What kinds of irregularities?” In my world, irregularities were rarely a good thing.
George’s jaw tightened further. “It looked like Agent Reeves used his access card to download his entire caseload to an external drive the night he died. But upon further inspection, that transfer ended up being an hour after his time of death.”
Ty crossed his arms over his chest. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but dead men don’t tend to transfer files.”
George nodded. “That’s right. We’re now treating his death as a murder, not a suicide. Someone killed him to get the info on the cyber cases he was working on.”
“You’re telling me,” I said slowly, each word precise, “that the FBI lost control of technology capable of turning three billion devices into weapons because someone murdered your agent, and you didn’t even realize it was a homicide for a week?”
“The situation is being investigated?—”
“Investigated?” I stood without planning to, the chair rolling backward. “This is exactly why I insisted on FBI involvement. The Cascade Protocol was too dangerous for private sector containment. I convinced my team—convinced Alex—that you would handle it. Half my researchers thought I was paranoid for even suggesting we turn it over, but I pushed because I believed in federal security protocols.”
“Charlotte.” Alex’s warning barely registered.
“Six months ago, I walked into your offices with technology that could destabilize global infrastructure.” My voice sounded steadier than my pulse. “I handed over documentation detailing how to override battery management systems in any modern smartphone. I explained—at length—how a frequency attack could turn lithium-ion batteries into remote-controlled incendiary devices.”
Ty’s chair creaked as he leaned forward. “Incendiary devices, as in bombs?” His brows lifted. “Okay, maybe let’s rewind for those of us who just got read in. What exactly does this Cascade Protocol do?”
Grateful for the redirect, I sat back down and flipped my tablet to the schematic view and cast it to the wall. Technical explanation. Safe ground. “It started as a diagnostic tool. We were contracted to develop parameters for stress-testing lithium-ion batteries—find weak points before the products shipped.”
“Sounds harmless enough,” Ty said, eyes tracking the diagrams like he was genuinely trying to follow. Unexpected.
“That’s what we thought.” I tapped to bring up another schematic. “But the testing revealed a flaw. By combining specific electromagnetic pulse sequences with targeted code injection, we discovered we could bypass the safeguards in a battery management system chip.”
Ty’s gaze flicked from the screen to me. “And the battery management system does…what exactly?”
“It regulates charging. Keeps phones from overheating. Balances the cells.” I traced the attack vector on the diagram with my fingers. “In other words, the chip is the reason your phone doesn’t regularly catch fire in your pocket.”
“And you found a way to shut it off.”
“Yes. Remotely.” My throat tightened, but I kept going. “The initial breach piggybacks through the cellular network. A quantum-encrypted signal penetrates the baseband processor—the chip that handles communication. Once inside, the code disables thermal protection and forces the battery into rapid charge-discharge cycles.”
“That’s a bunch of big-ass words.” Ty’s voice was quieter now. “What exactly does it do?”
“It creates an uncontrolled chemical reaction in the lithium cells.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “In practical terms, it means we can make any smartphone battery explode on command.”
Silence settled, heavy enough to warp the air.
Ty sat back slowly, his expression shifting from disbelief to grim understanding. “Every smartphone.”
“Actually, any device with a lithium-ion battery and cellular connectivity. Phones, tablets, certain laptops, smartwatches?—”
“Three billion devices, give or take.” His expression had gone deadly serious. “You created a way to weaponize three billion devices.”
“Which is why I immediately brought it to the FBI.” I turned back to George’s image. “I thought federal custody would ensure it never saw deployment. Clearly, I miscalculated.”
