Private Lives (2000) Read online

  VIRTUAL CRIME,

  REAL PUNISHMENT.

  TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE™

  Don’t miss any of these exciting adventures

  starring the teens of the Net Force…

  VIRTUAL VANDALS

  The Net Force Explorers go head-to-head with a group of teenage pranksters on-line—and find out firsthand that virtual bullets can kill you!

  THE DEADLIEST GAME

  The virtual Dominion of Sarxos is the most popular war-game on the Net. But someone is taking the game too seriously…

  ONE IS THE LONELIEST NUMBER

  The Net Force Explorers have exiled Roddy—who sabotaged one program too many. But Roddy’s created a new “playroom” to blow them away…

  THE ULTIMATE ESCAPE

  Net Force Explorer pilot Julio Cortez and his family are being held hostage. And if the proper authorities refuse to help, it’ll be the Net Force Explorers to the rescue!

  THE GREAT RACE

  A virtual space race against teams from other countries will be a blast for the Net Force Explorers. But someone will go to any extreme to sabotage the race—even murder…

  END GAME

  An exclusive resort is suffering net thefts, and Net Force Explorer Megan O’Malley is ready to take the thief down. But the criminal has a plan—to put her out of commission—permanently…

  CYBERSPY

  A “wearable computer” permits a mysterious hacker access to a person’s most private thoughts. It’s up to Net Force Explorer David Gray to convince his friends of the danger—before secrets are revealed to unknown spies…

  SHADOW OF HONOR

  Was Net Force Explorer Andy Moore’s deceased father a South African war hero or the perpetrator of a massacre? Andy’s search for the truth puts every one of his fellow students at risk…

  TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE™

  PRIVATE LIVES

  CREATED BY

  Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik

  BERKLEY JAM BOOKS, NEW YORK

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  TOM CLANCY’S NET FORCE: PRIVATE LIVES

  A Berkley Jam Book / published by arrangement with Netco Partners

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2000 by Netco Partners.

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission.

  For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is http://www.penguinputnam.com

  ISBN: 1-101-00743-5

  BERKLEY JAM BOOKS®

  Berkley Jam Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY JAM and its logo are trademarks belonging to Penguin Putnam Inc.

  We’d like to thank the following people, without whom this book would not have been possible: Bill McCay, for help in rounding out the manuscript; Martin H. Greenberg, Larry Segriff, Denise Little, and John Helfers at Tekno Books; Mitchell Rubenstein and Laurie Silvers at BIG Entertainment; Tom Colgan of Penguin Putnam Inc.; Robert Youdelman, Esquire; and Tom Mallon, Esquire; and Robert Gottlieb of the William Morris Agency, agent and friend. We much appreciated the help.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  1

  “Everybody else is here,” Megan O’Malley told Matt Hunter as she met him at the door to her house. Her hazel eyes blazed as if she were accusing him. “You’re almost late.”

  “Um—sorry.” Matt blinked, then thought for a second. “Hey! Isn’t on time good enough these days? Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

  “You’re right. It’s my turn to say ‘sorry.’” Megan looked a little stressed out despite her smile. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that I’ve got a three-ring circus running in the living room. How do you guys manage things when David has you over?”

  “David never has more than four people over at a time,” Matt said. “With his kid brothers on the rampage, that’s about as many people as his folks’ apartment will hold.”

  He glanced at the plate of assorted snacks in Megan’s hand. Come to think of it, he was a bit hungry…. “And his idea of entertaining people is to turn the holovision on. He doesn’t generally provide food.”

  “Speaking of holovision, that’s what we’d better do,” Megan said, looking at her watch. “The show should be on any minute.”

  The show was Washington Personalities, a long-running and highly regarded local news show where reporters interviewed some of the interesting but less-well-known folks who lived and worked in the capital. The reason Megan had invited everyone over was today’s guest. Captain James Winters was going to be featured on this broadcast.

  Captain Winters was a Net Force agent, a member of the special bureau of the FBI responsible for policing the web-work of computers that strung together the country and, indeed, the world. Besides being a crack federal agent, he was also the liaison for the Net Force Explorers.

  Matt was a Net Force Explorer. So was Megan, and so were all the other kids sitting expectantly in her living room. Matt, Megan, Catie Murray, Andy Moore, Maj Green, P. J. Farris, David Gray—most of them had met at Net Force Explorers meetings. They’d become friends through the experiences they’d shared.

  The Net Force Explorers had proved to be much more than a high-profile computer club for all of them. The kids had learned a lot about technology—and each other—while taking part in some pretty wild adventures.

  And the man who’d always been there for them, even when they sometimes went off the deep end, was Captain Winters. All the kids were pleased that he was getting his fifteen minutes of fame.

  Andy waved Matt over to where he sat on the couch, pointing to a lumpy object down by his feet. The wise-guy grin on Andy’s face was as typical of him as the disheveled state of his blond hair. “Last one in gets the weirdest seat,” he announced.

  “It’s not weird,” Megan protested. “It’s retro.”

  Andy gave her a look. “Which means?”

  “It’s a phrase from back in the 1990s. That’s when this antique beanbag chair was probably made—unless it dates back to the 1960s.”

  “Oh,” Andy said sarcastically. “So retro means ‘old junk.’” He grinned at Matt. “Enjoy your seat.”

  “You can enjoy it, too,” Megan told Andy. “You got in just ahead of Matt—and stole my seat on the couch when I went to let him in.”

  Andy put on a big act of looking hurt. “You’re the hostess—I thought you’d want me to have this seat.”

  “I might have, if you hadn’t gone making fun of my beanbag chair.” Megan handed the tray of snacks to Catie, grabbed Andy by the arm, pulled him off the sofa, and plopped down in his place.

  “You can join me down here,” Matt said, s
inking into the beanbag. “It’s surprisingly comfortable.”

  “Probably give me mildew,” Andy groused, flopping down. He glanced up at Megan. “She sure is feisty,” he muttered. “Think that’s what keeps Leif interested in her?”

  “I didn’t even know he was,” Matt said, glancing at Andy in surprise. Leif Anderson was another of the Net Force Explorers, but he lived in New York City most of the time. Even though his dad had tons of money, Leif wasn’t able to come flying down to Washington, D.C., on a school day.

  “Hey, is somebody recording this for Leif?” Matt asked.

  “Already taken care of,” Megan assured him. “So cut the sound—the show’s starting.”

  The HoloNews logo swam into existence over the projection unit from Megan’s family computer. Tinny, canned theme music began to play as cheesy computer graphics formed the letters Washington Personalities.

  Matt shrugged. Well, after all, this was no prime-time show with a big budget.

  A young news announcer grinned from the holographic projection. “It’s Thursday, September 18, 2025, and this is Washington Personalities. I’m your host, Jay-Jay McGuffin, and my guest represents a well-known law-enforcement agency—with a surprisingly human face.”

  The camera pulled back to show McGuffin sitting in an armchair that looked like an overgrown, hollowed-out billiard ball. Seated across from him, looking uncomfortable in a similar chair, was Captain Winters.

  “Jay-Jay is right,” Andy kidded from the peanut gallery. “Winters does have a surprisingly human face. And would you call those things they’re sitting on retro chairs?”

  “Shhhh!” Megan swatted him on the head. Matt always found himself a little in awe of the captain. Even in a sport coat and open-necked shirt, there was something undefinably military about the man. He made the casual clothes look like a uniform. But he smiled, looking definitely human as he responded, “Thanks, Jay-Jay. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  Jay-Jay McGuffin ran through a quick series of questions to establish exactly who James Winters was. Then he threw in a curveball. “You went from being a colonel in the Marines to being a captain in Net Force. Does that rate as a demotion?”

  “Well, not in terms of pay,” Winters replied with a quick grin. “And, as a Marine, I was responsible for keeping almost a thousand young men combat-ready—and for keeping as many of them as possible alive if we actually got into a fight. While it is in many ways equally—maybe even more—important work, apprehending computer criminals for Net Force is not, thankfully, such a life-and-death business.” He paused for a second. “Especially when you consider my major assignment.”

  Matt was impressed by the way Winters fielded the question. But then, handling the media must be part of his liaison duties. Certainly, he had just managed to steer the interview in the direction he wanted.

  “That’s right,” McGuffin said, “you’re the national coordinator for the Net Force Explorers. Why don’t you tell us a little about the group?”

  Winters had a lot to tell, and as far as Matt was concerned, the captain did it very, very well. Jay-Jay McGuffin, however, was less impressed. “Is it appropriate to use a youth organization to recruit for a government agency?” the newsman asked.

  “Man, he’s really getting on the captain’s case,” Andy complained. “If any of us gave Winters that much grief, he’d let us know about it.”

  Winters’s years as a Marine had given him lots of experience in how to cut someone down to size with a single glance or a few well-chosen words. Matt had been on the receiving end of that skill a few times. Andy and Leif had gotten more than their share of the captain’s technique.

  The captain sounded downright pleasant as he explained that the Net Force Explorers operated as a social and educational organization. “The kids are strictly civilians. We don’t give them police training, and they have no police powers.”

  As the captain spoke, Matt wondered if Winters was thinking about the kids in this room and some of the cases they’d gotten involved in. As the man said, Net Force Explorers had no police powers. But that hadn’t stopped Matt and his friends from testing their nerve—and their computer smarts—against spies, criminals, and terrorists.

  “To give my personal opinion, I’d be proud to serve beside any of the young people in the Net Force Explorers,” Winters finished. “They are a fine bunch of people, and I’m very proud of them. But they all have their own lives to lead. I’d never dream of trying to influence their choice of careers.”

  “Maybe Net Force is for me,” Andy said.

  “Dream?” Megan snorted. “Make that the captain’s nightmare.”

  A car ad came on, and Megan got up to go to the kitchen and get sodas. Matt went to help.

  “It’s nice to see the captain get a little credit for the job he’s doing,” Matt said as he picked up a tray full of glasses. He grinned. “I bet we could make a nice profit out of boot-legging copies of this holo.”

  Megan shrugged. “If kids are that hot to see it, they can probably log on to the local HoloNet site.”

  “It might be a good idea to get the word out. If there’s a big response, the show’s producers will know they did a good job.”

  “I just wish it didn’t have to be so phony,” Megan complained. “Like that supposedly tough question that Jay-Jay guy asked.” She rolled her eyes. “As if anybody named Jay-Jay could act tough!”

  “David always makes fun of that,” Matt said.

  “I mean, do reporters think we’re stupid?” Megan thumped more glasses down on another tray. “Do they believe we can’t see through this act they put on, their eternal, life-and-death struggle for the truth…on a puff-piece interview show?”

  “I guess it sells advertising,” Matt said.

  “And advertising gives the people who watch a chance to go to the bathroom.” Megan picked up her tray. “Or to go and get a snack.”

  They returned to the living room and passed out the drinks. By the time they’d settled down, the show was back on. Captain Winters played some recorded holograms of local Net Force Explorers in action.

  “Hey!” P. J. Farris pointed. “That’s the exhibit we took around to all the senior centers, teaching about Net fraud and the elderly.”

  Hoots burst out in the room. “Is that some old lady’s dog?” Catie crowed.

  “No, it’s Moore’s hair!” Maj giggled.

  Andy ran a defensive hand through his unruly thatch. “Nobody said they were recording that!” he complained. “That isn’t fair!”

  David chuckled. “Welcome to the wonderful world of broadcast news.”

  The segment was obviously coming to an end. Jay-Jay McGuffin shook hands with Winters. “Thanks, Captain. You give a very professional interview.”

  Winters responded to the back-handed compliment with a quiet “Thank you.”

  But the newsman didn’t offer a jolly farewell. Instead, he gave his guest a smile with an undertone that Matt found unpleasantly sly.

  “I wonder, though,” Jay-Jay continued, “if you’d have been so cool and collected if you’d come in here knowing that Stefano ‘Steve the Bull’ Alcista was being paroled today? Isn’t he the organized-crime figure who was accused of conspiracy and murder in the car-bombing that killed your wife?”

  For once, James Winters didn’t have an answer ready. He sat in shocked silence.

  But Megan’s living room was anything but quiet.

  “Did he say what I thought he said?” P. J. demanded at the top of his voice.

  “What kind of cheap crap—” David stormed.

  “I never even heard that Captain Winters had a wife,” Megan said.

  Matt had never heard such a thing, either. But he was more struck by something he’d never seen before. On the holographic projection, caught in tight close-up, the still-silent James Winters fought to control his emotions and turn his face into an impassive mask.

  But he was failing.

  Matt couldn’t turn his eyes way
. It was like watching the aftermath of a mammoth car wreck—horrible, but mesmerizing.

  There was the face he’d seen at dozens of Net Force Explorers meetings, but now, for the first time ever, Matt saw it distorted by fierce, deadly—and possibly even murderous—fury.

  2

  Megan surged to her feet and snapped a command at her family’s computer suite. The holographic image of Captain Winters’s angry face disappeared like a popping soap bubble.

  I thought she was recording this for Leif, Matt thought. But now was obviously not the time to bring that up.

  “We don’t need to see any more of that,” Megan said angrily. “Or any more of that newsman’s smirking face.”

  “I’m gonna call up HoloNews right now and see if I can get his butt fired.” Maj Green’s voice was too loud and her face was red.

  Rummaging through her bag, she came out with her wallet. Maj flipped through IDs, transit passes, and credit cards until she came to a shiny silver surface. This was the foilpack keypad, a control center built right into the wallet. Hidden circuitry imbedded in the heavy plastic could be instructed to run in various modes.

  Maj punched in the code to turn the wallet into a phone with short, emphatic gestures. Her fingers tapped through another code, and she glared at a readout.

  “The station’s number is 555–1100,” she announced, extending her glare to everybody in the room. “What’s the problem? Am I moving too fast for you all? Where are those phones, people? We’ve got a career to fry!”

  “I don’t know if I want to go that far,” David Gray said slowly, digging out his wallet. “But the question was cruel—and crude. We don’t need that kind of attack journalism. That’s what I’ll tell them.”