Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
My goal today is to fabricate an analytical history of a source that doesn’t exist.
I take a breath and begin.
The Karpov lead is the cleanest because BOB can plausibly get to it with the gentlest of nudges. He’s been running vessel patterns for a handful of days now, so that’s where I’ll start.
The vessels are real and observable. Some are registered through three layers of shell companies, but trails usually go opaque after that. Without a specific name to look for, BOB’s job is to grind through the universe of plausible candidates and surface the most likely.
I narrow the universe with a lead from Finn by adding a filter against the population of Vancouver-area corporations registered in the seafood import sector. I specifically seek those that have had any direct or indirect transit interaction with the vessel patterns in the last twenty months.
BOB returns forty-seven companies.
I run a second filter against the financial signatures of those forty-seven companies looking at things like sudden capital expansions or anomalous wire transfers.
BOB returns nine companies.
I run a third filter cross-referencing the principals of those nine companies against the bureau’s existing watch list of persons connected to Voronin’s network through third-party associations.
BOB returns three.
Karpov Maritime Imports, Limited, is on the list.
I sit back, pick up a pen from my desk, and tap it on my thigh as I think.
The BOB query history will, if anyone walks it backward, look exactly like the work an analyst does when she’s running a pattern and the pattern produces a result. The history won’t show that I knew the result before I ran the query.
It’s a moment of profound dishonesty and it’s shameful to me that I’m keeping the source of this information from my employer. But I can’t put Finn at risk, and not just because I promised him I wouldn’t.
I already care for him far too much for me to ever think about hurting him.
I open a new working file and consider the warehouse Finn told me about. This one is going to be harder than Karpov because the analytical path is less direct. I stare at the screen for almost twenty minutes before an idea strikes. My fingers flying over the keyboard, I run shell company filings against commercial real estate transactions in the south industrial corridor, cross-referenced with suspicious freight registrations over the last three years. When BOB gives me output, there are six properties and the Georgetown warehouse is one of them.
I could sell this as a stroke of genius plus luck if anyone were to look at my build history.
The last thing I look at is the Russian bakery, but luck is on my side. Apparently, the FBI already has that on their list of potential sites where Voronin hangs out, but it doesn’t look like any active surveillance has been done there in a long time. I make a note to talk to Cole and Reid about it, and maybe Jameson can check it out.
I toss the pen down and reach my hands above my head, stretching my back and shoulders. I roll my neck, loosening the slight muscle cramps. I glance at the time and realize I’ve been here almost three hours. Feels like I just started.
I’ve got two new pieces of information for the investigation, and I’ll get eyes back on the Russian bakery. I can sell this easily as the result of legitimate analytical work that any senior analyst could replicate. The trail is clean and Finn is protected.
I shoot a text to both Reid and Cole. Got time to meet on a few things regarding Voronin?
They both respond immediately and are at my desk inside three minutes, parked in the two chairs across from me.
“By the look on your face,” Cole drawls, “I’m guessing you have something new?”
I swing my third monitor around so they both can see it and walk them through my “new” findings.
“That’s really great work, Josie,” Cole murmurs as his eyes roam over the data.
“Thank you, but that’s not all,” I say, ignoring the small flutter of nerves in my stomach. Because this is the big lead I’m getting ready to disclose and I’m not building a query framework but rather using direct information Finn helped me with this morning.
I reach into my bag, pull out a map of the San Juan Islands, and spread it out over my desk. “I’ve been running more scenarios on BOB using tidal data to overlay the darkest nights of the year with remote docks that have easy access to roads.”
This is sort of true in that’s how I identified the Fidalgo dock.
What I’m not sharing as I point out five marked docks that Finn circled in Sharpie this morning at his kitchen counter is that I got these from a direct source. He starred four random destinations and then one he’s seen Mikhail use before.