Virginia, 11am US time
The room filled with the electronic sounds of keyboard keys echoing as the team members worked through the available data. The two American workers, Noah and Hannah, struggled with their task.
"Jessica has practically no digital footprint!" Noah was frustrated as his lack of findings, "No social media and I'm not even finding any email—and that is odd."
"Her bank account is only 3 years old; before that there is nothing." Hannah was struggling with her own assignment.
"But that is still three years of records you can search for patterns and previous payments." He tried to encourage her, "I'm stuck looking for her in the background of any photo posted to social media in London. That's over 8 million locals plus tourists—that's a lot of photos!"
"Her London bank account has two hundred and fifty-three dollars and a quarter. There is a reoccurring monthly deposit into the account and then almost the entire amount withdrawn in cash." Hannah had little info, "So there's no spending history and no credit cards in her name—not even a business one." She groaned as he hit that dead end.
"So she pays cash for everything?"
"Looks like it."
"What does she do?" Noah was slightly interested.
"Not sure about that either." Hannah flexed her hands as they cramped from constant typing.
"Who pays the direct deposit?"
"UK Banking Corporation, but I don't see her listed as an employee." She leaned back, silently considering her options.
"Are we debating who has the harder assignment?" Noah realized. Hannah laughed.
"I guess we were."
"Well, I have over 8 million photos to sort through, so I'm claiming the win there."
"But you at least have a starting point, I don't even have that." Hannah objected.
"I need a break. I'm going to get a snack." Noah headed to the vending machine.
Hannah rubbed her head. This was giving her a headache. Finance was hard to read—the numbers blended together after hours of looking.
Time for something new.
She switched screens, pulling up the airport footage from London and began searching. People from all over the world were streaming through the London terminals and Hannah engaged a computer program to identify which individuals needed a closer look.
But human instinct can be keen. Hannah noticed a figure and switched the screen to play the video at regular speed. She reversed it before hitting pause. The technician blinked as she stared at the image. This has got to be wrong.
She enhanced the screen but her first thought was right.
Director Hampton was in London. There he was on security cameras entering the international terminal for departures. How'd he get there? Hannah wondered. She pulled up the US customs system and searched through the documents. There was no record of Hampton's passport clearing customs to enter the country—or exit.
That makes no sense!
"That is Director Hampton right?" Hannah asked Noah as he came back from the breakroom.
He looked up from his bag of pork rinds, "Yeah. Whoa, is that London?"
"Yes, after the alarm at Jennifer's house."
"What is he doing there?"
"I don't know. There are no records in his name at customs." Hannah's brow wrinkled.
"Second passport?" Noah suggested. The two exchanged a look. A director didn't work undercover and as he was a public person, his identity is known by most countries so it made no sense for him to travel on an alias passport. And a second passport didn't mean anything good.
"We better get Patricia."
