Krumm stepped into the generator chamber, pointing his flashlight around until he saw the exhaust stack. It was a pipe which ran up at a rising angle along one wall to the exterior wall, and straight up through the concrete floor. After climbing the stairs, he went under the storage deck where he thought the pipe should be visible. It was. Climbing to the top of the stairwell, he checked the uppermost deck. The same pipe went up through the ceiling. Then he went down looking for Manford.
“Has anybody been up on the roof since I mounted the broadband antenna?” Krumm asked.
“Not that I know of. Why?”
Krumm crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “I saw a workman up there when I came back just a few minutes ago. Naturally I was a little worried about my antenna, but he was quite a ways from it, poking around at what I believe was the exhaust pipe for the generator.”
Manford turned his head just a bit, looking askance at Krumm, as frown developed. “There shouldn’t be anybody up there, especially messing with the stack.” He led the way to the sixth floor. The roof was accessed through a ladder in what looked like an ordinary storage closet. It was one of the few locked doors in the place, and still locked when they checked. Manford climbed up and pushed the hinged cover very slowly. The lights from adjacent buildings would backlight anyone there. Peeking through the slit, he could see no one from that angle, which included a view of the exhaust stack.
He stepped up, bunching himself on the next rung. Popping to hatch open quickly, he spun around to see if there was anyone behind. The roof was vacant. He looked back at Krumm with an obvious question.
Krumm, right behind him, said, “Yes, it’s possible I was seeing things. It was already getting dark. But I want to check just the same.”
They walked carefully to the only pipe with a flip-up cover. Nothing seemed amiss, but Krumm placed his hand on the counter-balance and lifted the cover. He reminded Manford to cup his hand around the flashlight. It was almost too tall, but Manford stood on tiptoe and looked over the edge, down inside the pipe. He caught his breath. “Krumm, do you know what this is?”
Manford backed off to let Krumm see inside. There was a sort of flat metal plate which had been cut so that six splines spread from a small center. The splines were bowed upward a bit. There were six matching scratch marks on the inner face of the tubing where the plate had been pushed tightly down inside a few inches. On top of the center section was an odd piece sticking up, looking almost like a bullet. Krumm recognized a high frequency antenna top.
He set the top back down gently, and said, “We can’t touch it. Whoever put that there may already be aware we have found it, but whatever is going on is not our business.”
Manford frowned. “But this is in our building.”
“I’m willing to bet everything I own there’s a long wire on the other side of that spider plate. What is on the other end of this pipe, and where might such a wire be hanging for the most interesting use? This isn’t about us.”
Manford muttered something about a not-so-secure conference room.
Krumm knew it was only because he took his warning through his back channels that their building was not evacuated. Any unusual activity would be the last thing counter-intelligence needed to preserve evidence. Instead, they brought over a slightly smaller than normal group. As they approached the generator chamber, they made typical military chit-chat, as one of the men passed a bug detector along the pipe. They then silently retreated to Krumm’s server room. The noise from the servers and cooling fans would cover most quiet conversations. The man who spoke to him wore typical civilian clothing.
“I want you to come visit me tomorrow. Can you get to the gym by, say, ten-hundred?”
The next day, Krumm and Manford knew better than to discuss the matter. After they cleaned up from breakfast, Krumm told Ripley he had to report to HQ. It was less pleasant passing through the busy streets, but he arrived with a little time to spare. He sat on a bench outside the gym. He almost didn’t recognize the investigator who came out all sweaty in poorly fitting athletic attire. The man offered no greeting.
“Mr. Krumm, you already have sufficient clearance, and we have a need for you to know. We have reason to believe the device has been there awhile. The fellow you spotted was simply doing maintenance on it. A quick inspection of the external premises indicates they have been on the roof several times already, climbing up from the adjacent building off the far end. It’s a busy market, so there’s no easy way to identify, and your mystery worker may be mostly ignorant anyway.”
He paused for a few moments, watching as some men in uniform passed by. “We can easily prevent further listening by simple awareness, rendering the device harmless without further action. If the door is closed on the inner bunker, it can’t pick up anything, but you know how people are, keeping tight schedules and forgetting their surroundings. Naturally, our main problem is debriefing the folks who used your place to find out what the listeners may have already gotten.”
Krumm felt he knew where this was going. “And my part is…?”
“Has your visit with this Khan reaped any further useful contacts?”
Krumm listed the people he knew in the community. The investigator nodded, but Krumm could tell he was looking for something else. “Sir, I can’t guess what you know about me, but you have to understand I have certain personal religious affinities with these people. By no means would I likely convert to Islam, but there is an intellectual frame of reference I share with them. On some instinctive level, I get along just fine with them, and they embrace me to some extent.”
The investigator looked at him with a grin. “Your initial report of meeting Khan provoked a flurry of checking. We are familiar with your writings on Christian Mysticism, along with your criticism of the US government. Our agency didn’t steer you into this by any means, but we can certainly put two-and-two together. Since you aren’t a threat, we will use you on your own terms.”
Krumm half-smiled. “I had a very interesting conversation yesterday with an old man. He suggested some of my co-workers were being strung along by enemy agents. I doubt Muslims would use honey-traps, but they aren’t above gleaning information from immoral behavior.”
The investigator’s eyebrows rose just a little. “We haven’t paid much attention to your guys. We’ll have to fix that. Keep in touch.” The man walked back inside the gym.
Krumm didn’t mention his personal speculation about “future events of warfare.”
