The Russian Crisis

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jackson's next stop was the office of Carmen Flores, the Chief Operating Officer of JPI. It was his first one-on-one meeting with the woman who had been hired by Blax. Her personnel record showed she was 36 years old but it was a toned mid-30s.

He tapped on her door and waited. She opened the door and immediately broke into a wide smile. Her olive complexion seemed to glow and her light brown eyes sparkled. "Jackson, how are you?"

She moved aside to let him enter. He found himself in a large space that seemed more a living room than an office. There was a desk but it was small, made of exotic wood of some kind and tucked into a corner of the room. There were several chairs and a dark red sofa with light coloured cushions placed on it. The room had a quaint feel to it. It wasn't what Jackson expected, to say the least.

The woman herself didn't fit her surroundings. Jackson had been impressed by the Carmen he had first met at the boardroom meeting as a modern, highly intelligent, independent, lively woman. He didn't see her as a Martha Stewart clone. Maybe he had misjudged her.

"Grab a chair, Jackson. Fred and I were just going over the little mess..."

Jackson saw the head of technology, Fred Nbodo, seated in a chair facing the couch. He realized how dimly-lit the room was. Fred was black-skinned, a native of Nigeria who had moved to Canada twenty years ago. He was brilliant but extremely shy.

"Hi, Fred," Jackson called out in a cheery voice. He liked Fred as much as any geek he had ever met and admired the man's intelligence.

Fred made to rise but Jackson gestured for him to remain as he was.

"Hello, Jackson." Fred's white teeth glistened as the techie smiled broadly. "Long time."

"Too long." Jackson took one of the chairs next to Fred while Carmen moved to the sofa. She was in a blouse and skirt crossed her legs in a relaxed pose.

"Let's get back to that little mess," Jackson invited.

The trio talked for close to an hour at a technical level far above most mortals, even those in technology. Each was an expert in military software, military tactics, military needs and priorities. Despite referring to the theft of source code as a 'little mess,' the three agreed it was a disaster for both the company and its hundreds of clients through the world.

They dissected the ways in which the source code could be used by an enemy to engineer their own solutions and defeat the functions built into JPI defensive software now on the market. The source code could not be turned into functional solutions without a great deal of work by experienced programmers and other techies. It would take months for anyone, even a nation, to recreate the solutions that JPI was already selling in the military market.

"One huge loss for us is..." Jackson said in a grim voice, "... is that there is a lot of AI in that source code." Carmen looked up in alarm while Fred shook his head to acknowledge the comment. "Some of it is now common knowledge but I recall seeing some very innovative thinking by our programmers."

Jackson was familiar with the code and all programming because it had been accomplished under his watch. He knew there were millions of lines of code in the source code. A percentage of the work involved Artificial Intelligence, giving machines the ability of cognitive thinking. Machines driven by the code would learn, somewhat like humans.

Fred concentrated on AI for a moment. "Of course, enemies with the source code will know a lot about where we are going with Version 2.0." This version was the current iteration of all JPI military software solutions.

Carmen was nodding her head slowly, her glossy black hair swinging against her neck and face.

Beyond AI was the fact that the stolen source code could provide a foe with a great deal of information about current allied defences and targeting methods.

As a simple example - Fred offered one early in the discussion - software integrated into a camera network could identify explosive devices or armament being carried by a terrorist or enemy fighter and do so from a distance beyond a typical blast radius. This would be done by identifying a number of characteristics.

An app could discern if the bomber was a nervous male walking either quicker or slower than he should be, sweating excessively, gripping a trigger in his hand, wearing an explosive vest under his shirt, robe or uniform, looking around with extra interest in guards, lacking interest in things like shopping or girl-watching.

There were a number of characteristics that could identify a target and each would be noted in the algorithms in the source code. Defeat many of these characteristics by masking them, training them out of bombers or changing them substantially (as in the shape or where to wear explosive vests) and one could fool the software.

Worse, noted Carmen, various programmers who worked on the code in the first place made notes in the margins. These notes could tell enemies a lot of things not explained in the code alone.

"I read one," she disclosed, "that actually names some of the terrorists whose pictures are on file with the U.S. Seals and the SAS in the U.K. Nobody knows these photos exist and will help target these men. Another note said it would be impossible to identify a bomber if he did several things to his appearance and the way he walks. Another one said we need to integrate the software with a minimum of so many cameras or it won't be effective. Take out enough cameras and you blind the solution."

"These are things we cannot allow enemies to know," said Fred in grave tones. "Sorry, that's obvious," he quickly added but Jackson nodded encouragement to his friend.

"It doesn't seem obvious to everyone," Jackson commented, studying his friends carefully.

"Ah, the elephant in the room," Fred chuckled. "Double X."

"Don't call him that." The two men looked at Carmen quizzically. "I just don't like the nickname; I don't think it's appropriate for our CEO. I wouldn't have called you 'Jack', Jackson, because I know you don't like that nickname, and I think we should be just as respectful when we talk about Mr. Blax."

Jackson gave a slight nod in agreement. Fred looked mortified and stammered, "I... I'm so sorry, Carmen. I didn't... uh ... think..."

"Okay," Jackson asked quickly. "Why won't Maxim take this seriously?"

This started a conversation that quickly became a debate. On one side, Fred calmly delineated the reasons why CEO Blax should approve a number of steps to identify the thief, list everything taken, discover the way the source code had been stolen and determine who might be a final customer for the code, assuming it was stolen to be sold. "It couldn't be used by the thief himself; what could he do with it? Of course, we would then know who it is."

Carmen took another view saying that Blax might not have all the information he needed to understand the situation. Once he did understand it, she offered, he would first have to confirm the theft occurred.

So far, she said, Barry and Jean were certain the software had been downloaded in a shocking violation of the company's policies and rules but that it may not have been 'stolen' to sell to an enemy. She suggested the taker - she refused to say 'thief' - could ransom the code. Perhaps, someone wanted only a part of the code; for instance, just the AI buried in it. She posed several scenarios which made some sense that Fred could not totally refute.

Jackson acted as the moderator of the debate but finally called a halt. He told Carmen and Fred that they, along with Payne, Brownley, Barry, Jean and Jackson himself, should haul Maxim into the boardroom and give him all the facts. Then, they should recommend actions that Max could and should approve. For one thing, he said, Maxim would have to open the fiscal doors so the investigation and remedies could be properly funded.

"As well," Jackson added, "We are going to need money for Mariah Belo and public relations. We're whistling in the wind if we think we can keep all this quiet."