The Midnight Watch: A Sigma Force Short Story by James Rollins Page A

the Defense Department’s research-and-development division. The unit recruited former Special Forces soldiers and retrained them in various scientific disciplines to act as field agents for DARPA. It was one of the reasons the Castle had been chosen for Sigma’s central command. It was ideally situated within the heart of the political landscape, while allowing Sigma and its operatives to have easy access to the Smithsonian’s resources and global reach.
    If Sigma was ever compromised, its agents exposed. . .
    A small huff drew Painter’s attention back to the tangible world.
    Jason scooted his chair back from his station, stood up, and stared across the banks of monitors, all still flowing with cryptic data. The young man studied the screens, running fingers through his blond hair, plainly concerned.
    Painter stepped to his side. “What is it?”
    “The pattern of theft is not random, despite how much they’re trying to make it look like it.” He pointed to one monitor. “This is no blind smash and grab. There is intent here, masked by all the rest of this noise.”
    “What intent?”
    Jason returned to his station and began typing again, this time with both hands, his nose inches from the screen. “A majority of the files were stolen from one specific research center.”
    “Which one?”
    Jason’s voice tightened with plain confusion. “The Smithsonian’s Conservation Biology Institute.”
    Painter understood his consternation. It was a strange target for such a sophisticated and elaborate cyber attack by a foreign enemy.
    Jason continued as he typed. “The Smithsonian CBI has labs and facilities both in Virginia and here in D.C., at the National Zoo in Rock Creek Park. In this case, it’s the campus at the zoo that was being targeted.”
    “Is there any rhyme or reason to the specific files that were being stolen?”
    “Not that it makes any more sense, but a majority of the research material being drained comes from one specific program.” Jason looked over his shoulder, displaying a deep frown. “A program titled Ancient DNA.”
    “Ancient DNA?”
    Jason shrugged, just as lost. “The hacked files all belong to a single researcher, a postdoctoral fellow named Dr. Sara Gutierrez.”
    The young man leaned back from the monitor, revealing a staff identification badge on the screen. The woman on the badge looked no older than Jason, her black hair cut in a short bob, her eyes intent, with a shy grin fixed to her face.
    “It looks like they cleaned out half of her files before I slammed the door on them.”
    “So they failed to get everything . . .” Painter felt a flicker of unease. “What was she working on?”
    Jason shook his head. “All I have are the file names, which doesn’t tell me much. But if I could access her computer, I might be able to trace the hackers’ location. When I cut the connection, some pieces of code might have been left on her terminal, a digital fingerprint that might give us some clue as to who was behind this attack.”
    “You can do that?”
    “I can try, but admittedly it’s a long shot. Still, the odds would be better if I can get to that computer before anyone else uses it and accidentally wipes away that digital fingerprint.”
    “Understood. I’ll see about arranging that. We’ll also want to interview Dr. Gutierrez as soon as possible. Preferably tonight.” He glanced to the wall clock. “Let’s hope she’s a night owl.”
    “I have her cell number from her records.” Jason slipped out his own phone, lifting one eyebrow.
    “Call it. Let her know what happened and that we need her help. We should arrange to meet at her office.”
    As Jason dialed, Painter considered whom to send at this late hour. His usual go-to operative, Commander Gray Pierce, was on a transatlantic flight to Europe to meet Seichan in Paris. Monk and Kat were on their way back from a road trip to Boston with their two young daughters. In his head, he ran through the remaining