Page 26 of Code 6

“Of course you did.”

“So I’m guessing you got the idea from Project Naïveté, right?”

“The idea for what?”

“Your play. Project Naïveté is like the same—” He stopped himself. “I thought for sure you cleared this with your dad. Are you saying your play was not inspired by—”

“Patrick, I think you should stop talking.”

If there was one thing Kate knew about Buck, it was that projects with code names were not discussed freely among coworkers. Information was shared on a “need to know” basis only.

“Well, how about that,” said Patrick. “I just got myself fired.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Maybe I got you fired, too.”

“No. Patrick, listen to me. This conversation never happened.”

The color slowly returned to his face. “Like the time we built a moat around the lifeguard stand so deep that the stand fell over?”

“Yes. Thankfully, the lifeguard was off duty.”

He smiled, but then it faded. “I think I have to turn myself in. This is a huge breach of policy.”

Another thing that hadn’t changed. Once a scout, always a scout.

“Before you do anything, let me speak to my father.”

“It was my mistake. I should own up to this myself.”

“Patrick, please. Let me speak to my dad.”

“Okay,” he said, but it was more acquiescence than agreement. “Speak to your dad. But do it soon.”

“Sure,” said Kate, still a bit unsettled by the fact that her play bore any similarity to a Buck Technologies project. “I’ll do it first thing.”

Chapter 11

Christian Gamble stood to one side as his longtime business partner, Jeremy Peel, took his place at the podium before a bouquet of microphones on a warm afternoon in the nation’s capital. More media than expected had shown up for the press conference, so they’d moved the gathering from the air-conditioned lobby to the courtyard outside Buck’s office on New York Avenue, a stone’s throw from Lafayette Square and within an easy walk to the north end of the White House.

The Department of Justice cybersecurity audit was officially underway. The local U.S. attorney had a policy of “no comment” on any pending investigation, which was nothing unusual. However, the fact that he’d extended this policy to something as routine as an audit—which was not, technically, an “investigation” into any wrongdoing—led to wild speculation that this particular audit was anything but “routine.” A reassuring public statement from Buck management was needed if the company’s stock was to avoid a serious hit on Wall Street. The board of directors decided that Peel, as chairman, should be the one to deliver it.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” said Peel. He was flashing what Gamble referred to as his partner’s “corporate smile,” that toothy expression worn by business executives spinning unhappy news, also popular with politicians accused of adultery.

Politically speaking, both Gamble and Peel were independents, not wanting to ruffle red or blue feathers. While Buck’s data-integration technology was flexible enough to serve both the public and private sectors, the fact that it was used by investment banks to guard againstmoney laundering or by pharmaceutical companies to expedite development of new drugs didn’t grab headlines. The hot stories usually had a Big Brother component, some nefarious link to government, like theNew York Timesrevelation that while the Department of Health and Human Services had a perfectly legitimate $31 million contract to use Buck’s software to analyze public health issues, the same software could also be used to access private health records. In short, the business of Big Data was hopelessly intertwined with politics. Of Buck’s two founders, Peel was the more politically savvy. Gamble served as president and CEO, running the corporate campus in Virginia. Peel was the chairman of the board, keeping his office close to the Washington power elite.

“When Christian and I formed this company after the terrorist attacks of nine eleven, we had two overarching ambitions. The first was to make software that could help keep the country safe. The second was to prove that there was a technological solution to the challenge of balancing public safety and civil liberties—a ‘Hegelian’ aspiration, as my philosophical friend put it,” he said, casting a smile in Gamble’s direction. Then he turned serious. “But we both feared that personal privacy would be a casualty of the war on terrorism.

“So, today, we welcome the announcement that the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Columbia will be conducting a cybersecurity audit at Buck Technologies. The public deserves transparency, and we are happy to provide it. At the end of the day, this exercise will only confirm that Buck has held true to its mission. We make software that saves lives and also preserves privacy. Thank you, and I’m happy to take any questions.”

Reporters immediately began shouting over one another, but the question that rose above the others was directed to the CEO.

“Sir, is there any connection between the security audit and the Fairfax County Police Department investigation into your late wife’s domestic violence allegations?”

Gamble’s business partner stepped to the side in graceful and almost unnoticeable fashion, as if not wanting to be within camera shot of the response to that question.

“There has never been any domestic violence in the Gamble household,” said Gamble. “So I don’t understand your question.”

---