Chasing the Dime by Michael Connelly Page B

of the room, each equipped with multiple screens. Each system seemed to be at work. Slowly unspooling data trails moved across each screen. Digital inchworms crawling through whatever was Zeller’s project at the moment. The walls of the room were covered in black foam padding to dampen exterior noise. The room was dimly lit by mini-spots. There was an unseen stereo playing an old Guns N’ Roses disc that Pierce had not heard in more than ten years.
    Affixed to the padding of the rear wall was a procession of stickers depicting company logos and trademark names. Most were household words, companies pervasive in daily life. There were many more stickers on the wall than the last time Pierce visited. He knew that Zeller put up a logo every time he conducted a successful intrusion into that company’s computer services system. They were the notches on his belt.
    Zeller earned $500 an hour as a white-hat hacker. He was the best of the best. He worked as an independent, usually hired by one of the Big Six accounting firms to conduct penetration tests on its clients. In a way it was a racket. The system that Zeller could not defeat was rare. And after each successful penetration his employer usually turned around and got a fat digital security contract from the client, with a nice bonus going to Zeller. He had once told Pierce that digital security was the fastest growth area in the corporate accounting industry. He was constantly fielding high-price offers to come on board full-time with one or another of the big firms, but he always demurred, saying he liked working for himself. Privately, he told Pierce that it was also because working for himself allowed him to eschew the random drug testing of the corporate world.
    Zeller came into the clean room with two brown bottles of San Miguel. They double-clicked bottles before drinking. Another tradition. It tasted good to Pierce, smooth and cold. Bottle in hand, he pointed to a red and white square affixed to the wall. It was the most recognized corporate symbol in the world.
    â€˜That one’s new, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Yeah, I just got that one. Took the job out of Atlanta. You know how they got some secret formula for making the drink? They were — ’
    â€˜Yeah, cocaine.’
    â€˜That’s the urban myth. Anyway, they wanted to see how well the formula was protected. I went in from total scratch. Took me about seven hours and then I e-mailed the formula to the CEO. He didn’t know we were doing a penetration test — it was handled by people below him. I was told he almost had a goddamn coronary. He had visions of the formula going out across the net, falling into the hands of the Pepsi and Dr. Pepper people, I guess.’
    Pierce smiled.
    â€˜Cool. You working on something right now? It looks busy.’
    He indicated the screens with his bottle.
    â€˜No, not really. I’m just doing a little trolling. Looking for somebody I know is out there hiding.’
    â€˜Who?’
    Zeller looked at him and smiled.
    â€˜If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.’
    It was business. Zeller was saying that part of what he sold was discretion. They were friends who went back to good times and one seriously bad time — at least for Pierce — in college. But business was business.
    â€˜I understand,’ Pierce said. ‘And I don’t want to intrude, so let me get to it. Are you too busy to take on something else?’
    â€˜When would I need to start?’
    â€˜Uh, yesterday would be nice.’
    â€˜A quickie. I like quickies. And I like working for Amedeo Tech.’
    â€˜Not for the company. For me. But I’ll pay you.’
    â€˜I like that better. What do you need?’
    â€˜I need to run some people and some businesses, see what comes up.’
    Zeller nodded thoughtfully.
    â€˜Heavy people?’
    â€˜I don’t really know but I’d use all precautions. It involves the adult