Terminal Compromise Part 31

The IRS, thought Duncan. "By whom?" he asked casually.

"I don't know." Dobbs was firm.

"Then how do you know you are being blackmailed?" Duncan wanted to conceal his interest. Keep it low profile.

"Let me tell you what happened."

Good start, thought Duncan. If only half of us would start in such a logical place.

"Two days ago I received a package by messenger. It contained the most sensitive information my company has. Strategic posi- tions, contingency plans, compet.i.tive information and so on.

There are only a half dozen people in my company that have access to that kind of information. And they all own enough stock to make sure that they aren't the culprits."

"So who is?" interjected Tyrone as he made notes.

"I don't know. That's the problem."

"What did they ask for?" Duncan looked directly into Dobbs'

eyes. To both force an answer and look for signs of deceit. All he saw was honesty and real fear.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. All I got was the package and a brief message."

"What was the message?" Tyrone asked.

"We'll be in touch. That's it."

"So where's the threat? The blackmail. This hardly seems like a case for the FBI." Tyrone was baiting the hook. See if the fish is real.

"None, not yet. But that's not the point. What they sent me were copies, yet they looked more like the originals, of informa- tion that would negatively affect my company. It's the sort of information that we would not want made public. If you know what I mean."

Tyrone thought, you bet I know. You're up to and you want us to protect you. Fat chance. "I know what you mean," he agreed.

"I need to stop it. Before it's too late?"

"Too late?" asked Duncan.

"Too late. Before it gets out."

"What gets out, Mr. Dobbs?" Duncan stared right into and beyond Dobbs' eyes.

"Secrets. Just secrets." Dobbs paused to recompose himself.

"Isn't there a law . . .?"

"Yes, there is Mr. Dobbs. And if what you say is true, you are ent.i.tled to protection." Duncan decided to bait Dobbs a bit more.

"Even if the information is illegal in nature." Wait for the fish to bite.

"I grant you I'm no Mother Teresa. I'm a businessman, and I have to make money for my investors. But in the files that I received were exact copies of my personal files that no one, and I mean no one has access to. They were my own notes, ideas in progress.

Nothing concrete, just work in progress. But someone, somehow has gotten a hold of it all. And, by my thinking, there's no way to have gotten it without first killing me, and I'm here. So how did they get it? That's what I need to know." Dobbs paused.

"And then, I need to stop them." His soliloquy was over.

"Who else is affected?" Duncan asked. The question made Dobbs pause too obviously. The answer was clear. Dobbs wasn't alone.

"I only speak for myself. No one else." Dobbs rose from the chair. "It's eminently clear. There's not a d.a.m.ned thing you can do. Good day." Dobbs left the room abruptly leaving Tyrone with plenty of time to think.

Chapter 8

Monday, September 21 New York

14 Dead As Hospital Computer Fails by Scott Mason

Fourteen patients died as a result of a ma.s.sive computer failure this weekend at the Golda Meier Medical Center on 5th. Avenue.

According to hospital officials, the Meditrix Life Support Moni- tors attached to many of the hospital's patients were accidental- ly disconnected from the nurses stations and the hospital's main computer. Doctors and nurses were unaware of any malfunction because all systems appeared to operating correctly.

The LSM's are connected to a hospital wide computer network that connects all hospital functions in a central computer. Medical records, insurance filings and treatments as well as personnel and operations are coordinated through the Information Systems department.

Golda Meier Medical Center leads the medical field in the used of technologically advanced techniques, and has been applying an artificial intelligence based Expert System to a.s.sist in diagno- sis and treatment. Much of the day to day treatment of patients is done with the LSM continually measuring the condition of patient, and automatically updating his records. The Expert System then determines what type of treatment to recommend.

Unless there is a change in the patient's condition that warrants the intervention of a doctor, drugs and medicines are prescribed by the computer.

According to computer experts who were called in to investigate, the Expert System began misprescribing medications and treatments early Sat.u.r.day morning. Doctors estimate that over 50%, about 300, of the hospital's patients received incorrect treatment.

Of those 14 died and another 28 are in critical condition.

Until this weekend, the systems were considered foolproof. The entire computer system of Golda Meier Medical Center has been disconnected until a more intensive investigation is completed.

In response to the news, the Jewish Defense League is calling the incident, "an unconscionable attack against civilized behavior and the Jewish community in particular." They have called for a full investigation into the episode.

No group or individuals have yet taken credit for the crime. The AMA has pet.i.tioned the Drug and Food Administration to look into the matter.

Gerald Steinmetz, chief counsel for the Center, said in inter- views that he had already been contacted by attorney's represent- ing the families of the some of the victims of this tragedy. He antic.i.p.ates extended legal entanglements until such time that the true cause can be determined and blame can accurately a.s.signed.

The hospital denies any wrong doing on its or its staff's part.

This is Scott Mason, determined to stay healthy.

December, 4 Years Ago Tokyo, j.a.pan

Miles Foster arrived at Narita Airport as another typhoon shat- tered the coast of j.a.pan. It was the roughest plane ride he had ever taken; and after 2 weeks of pure bliss. Boy, that h.o.m.osoto sure knows how to show a guy a good time.

After their first meeting at the OSO World Bank Building, Miles had flown to Tahiti and spent 18 delightful days at the outer resort of Moorea, courtesy of OSO Industries, with all of the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. He was provided with a private beach house containing every modern amenity one could want. Including two housekeepers and a cook. Only one of the housekeepers knew how to keep house.

The other knew how to keep Miles satisfied.

Marasee was a Pacific Islander who was well schooled in advanced s.e.xual techniques. At barely 5 feet tall and 96 pounds, her long silken black hair was as much as s.e.xual tool as her hands and mouth. Her pristine dark complexion and round face caused Miles to think that he was potentially guilty of crimes against a minor, but after their first night together, he relented that Marasee knew her business very well.

"Mr. h.o.m.osoto-San," she purred in delicately accented English, "wants you to concentrate on your work." She caressed his shoul- ders and upper body as she spoke. "He knows that a man works best when he has no worries. It is my job to make sure that you are relaxed. Completely relaxed. Do you understand?"