Cyberian Affair

by Mark A Pryor

  “Who—” The call ended. Niko shook his head. Gotta trust her, whoever the hell she is. No other options. He stuffed the laptop in its case and grabbed his bag.

  Outside, he spotted the Taurus in a dimly lit section of the parking lot. When he opened the door, no light illuminated the inside of the car. A woman, probably in her early twenties, nodded from behind the wheel. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was either curly or dirty, maybe both. A gray, loose-fitting sweat suit hid her shape.

  Tires squealed from the far side of the parking lot where Niko left his car. A quick glance revealed headlights racing toward them. Russians!

  “Get in, now!” the woman insisted.

  He jumped into the Taurus, slammed the door behind him, and threw the bag and laptop case onto the seat. “We’re dead if they catch us.”

  The mystery woman hit the gas, turned the Taurus away from their pursuer, and sped toward the shopping center exit.

  Niko looked back. It was the familiar dark BMW. Cars parked in the Starbucks lot blocked its way, so the Russians had to drive around them.

  Without a word, Niko’s driver took a sharp right turn onto the highway, darting into the left lane. Horns blared in protest. The tires of the Russians’ vehicle squealed as it slid around the end of a row of cars.

  The woman pointed to the glove compartment. “Inside. Get the laser.”

  Laser? He opened the compartment and grabbed a silver cylinder. It looked like a light saber. He waved it toward the driver. “This it?”

  “Stop!” She switched lanes, cutting off the car on her right, and raced forward. “Be careful with the beam. Open your window. Point it outside. Activate it with the button.”

  Niko pointed it at a billboard, and a blue dot appeared. “I got it.” He glanced back at the headlights switching lanes in pursuit. “What do I do now?”

  “When I tell you, aim at the driver’s window. Move the dot around until the driver reacts.”

  The Russians passed the last car separating them, closing the gap.

  “Now!” demanded the woman.

  He leaned out his window and pointed the laser where the driver’s head should be. He moved the laser up a bit, then down, then left. The BMW fishtailed. Niko did his best to keep the laser pointing at the same spot while the Taurus followed the highway as it entered a wide curve.

  The BMW swerved before smashing into the post at the end of a guardrail. The rear end of the car raised up and flipped over the front.

  Niko stared in disbelief. “It worked!” He closed the window. “You’re an amazing driver.” He held up the laser. “I gotta get one of these.”

  The Taurus moved into the right lane and slowed to the speed limit. The dark-haired woman looked at him but didn’t make eye contact. She seemed to be studying his face. “Tell me your name.”

  She spoke in a flat, emotionless voice—no obvious regional dialect. Maybe he could figure her out as she talked more. “I’m Niko—uh, The Pythia.”

  She nodded. “I trust you because you are The Pythia. But, your name is not Niko. It is Adam Zima. You are from the Ukraine.”

  “What? You already knew my name—my real name. Did Marko tell you?”

  She glanced at him. “Your face … from Starbucks … I had time to identify you from your face.”

  “You know my name. So, what’s yours?”

  She didn’t respond.

  Niko let the silence hang in the air, waiting for an answer.

  “Vyper. The name’s Vyper.” She turned into a parking lot and made a U-turn facing the highway. “Watch for a tail.” She headed back in the direction they came from.

  Vyper! Finally, we meet. He scanned the traffic. No vehicles made an obvious attempt to follow. Now that the Russians were gone, Niko decided to ask for help. “Is it safe to talk here?”

  “Yes. I sweep for bugs regularly. But you must answer my question first. Where is Marko? I cannot locate his phone.”

  She doesn’t know? “He was poisoned. I think it caused a heart attack. I don’t even know if he’s alive.”

  Vyper was silent, hands on the wheel. She kept driving while rocking her head and shoulders back and forth—in a rhythm.

  “Are you okay?” Niko touched her arm. She jerked it away.

  Her reaction reminded him of an autistic girl he knew back in the Ukraine, but he didn’t think anyone with autism could drive a car and hack a computer. Strange.

  She turned into a strip mall and parked in a remote area. “I do not understand. Marko’s phone is not active on the network, and you say he was poisoned. But he sent out an alert to the entire first shift, telling them to return to the Center immediately.”

  “What? I didn’t receive the message.” Niko raised his voice, nearly yelling. “Marko was lying on a stretcher heading to the hospital before I ditched my phone. He wasn’t in any shape to send a message.”

  Vyper gripped the wheel and continued rocking back and forth. “Tell me what happened.”

  Niko described the incident with the old woman in the brewpub. “Is there any way you can obtain the security videos from Alpha World?”

  “Of course. But first, tell me everything.”

  He detailed the events—from Marko’s reaction in the brewpub to the high-speed pursuit by the BMW.

  Vyper never met his gaze. She continued rocking. This cool-as-ice woman, super hacker, evasive driver with a laser weapon, shut down as soon as she heard about Marko.

  But Niko needed answers. “At Starbucks, I tried to get information out of county dispatch. None of my hacking tricks worked. Can you help?”

  She stopped the rhythmic movements. “You will never break into Loudoun County Dispatch. I put protection into their systems. Marko told me to secure them three weeks ago as part of the new government contract.” She reached behind the seat and retrieved a laptop. “Give me a minute.” She opened it up and typed a few keys at a blazing rate. A second later, she typed another burst of keystrokes, then another.

  Niko watched while Vyper skillfully worked her way through all the security barriers. As soon as one screen appeared on the laptop, he tried to make sense of it, but before he could, a new screen appeared. After a minute of trying to follow her actions, he gave up.

  Vyper shook her head. “No. No. No!” She typed in a flurry of bursts. “He was non-responsive in the ambulance.” She started to rock again. “No. No. No!”

  A Sterling Hospital logo appeared on the next few screens, followed by text and computer code.

  She stopped typing, closed the laptop, and wrapped her arms around the steering wheel. In a soft voice, devoid of emotion, she whispered, “He is dead.”

  Critical Threat

  Chapter 5

  Niko stared at Vyper, still hunched over the steering wheel. Her words screamed inside his head: He is dead.

  Shaking his head, Niko tried to deny the facts. “Marko can’t be dead. The ambulance arrived. The EMT’s treated him right away and took him to the hospital.”

  Vyper released her grip and her hand went limp. Then she flapped it up and down before doing the same thing with her other hand.

  Niko instinctively edged toward the door. “How do you know Marko’s dead?”

  Pressing one hand to her cheek, Vyper gripped the wheel with her other hand. Her voice shook as she answered. “They summoned the coroner.”

  It’s true! Russians killed him … Joey, too. I’m next. Gotta hide. Start a new life—alone.

  Vyper slipped the car into gear. “Marko was my friend. He changed my life.” She pulled out of the strip mall and onto the highway.

  Niko looked around. They were still in Ashburn, turning onto Route 7. “Marko changed my life, too. He told me to go deep. Can you take me to the Metro station in Reston?”

  Vyper shook her head. “You cannot take a chance. The Russians will look for you. You must stay at my place … for now.”

  “You sure?” Niko didn’t think she’d be able to handle someone in her home. “Why don’t you d
rop me at Tyson’s Corner? The Russians can’t stake out all the Metro stations.”

  “No. You will stay at my home. You are in danger.” She pointed to the glovebox. “Break down your burner phone and take one of mine.”

  “Okay.” Niko disassembled his phone. “If I’m going to stay with you, I’d like to know your name—your real name.”

  “I used to be Lydia Harris, but now I am Vyper. Only Marko knew my real name.”

  Niko suddenly realized something that sent a chill through his veins. “Marko didn’t send that message to the Action Center staff—but someone did. Someone who wants both shifts together in the same building. We’ve got to alert them.”

  Vyper snapped her phone into a holder on the dashboard. “I will send the alert.” She tapped on a red shield-shaped icon before speaking. “Code Omicron. Critical threat alert. Marko is dead. The message recalling first shift is bogus. Suspect Russians. Repeat, this is a critical alert.” She ended the call.

  Niko shook his head. “I don’t get it. The Action Center staff wasn’t part of our classified operation—they don’t even know about it. It was only Marko, Joey, and me.”

  “I know that, but the Russians do not. They will want to eliminate everyone.”

  I warned Marko about them. Joey, too.

  Niko took a burner phone from the glovebox. “Franklin’s in charge. Marko trusts … uh, trusted him. Franklin will respond to the alert.”

  Vyper nodded. “I hope you are right.” She slowed the car and turned onto a private road leading to a tall building. Across the top story, red neon letters spelled out the word Umber.

  Niko stared at the building—a corporate office of some kind. “What’s with this place?”

  Vyper drove into a multi-level parking garage. “The Russians know my car now. We need a replacement.” She parked in a dark corner on the third level. “Gather your belongings and get out. Leave nothing behind.”

  No one was around. Only a few vehicles were parked on this floor. When they stepped out of the car, he could see Vyper more clearly. Despite the baggy sweat suit, she was an attractive woman. She wore no makeup and didn’t smile much, but he found her button nose and mysterious eyes captivating. Something about those eyes—not blue, not dark—perhaps hazel.

  Niko helped clean out the Taurus, putting everything in a bag. As Vyper walked away at a brisk pace, he followed her and whispered, “Where are we going? Do you plan to steal a car?”

  Vyper kept walking. “Marko rented space here. Other garages, too. A replacement car is on the second floor.”

  “Replacement? How could Marko afford that?”

  She opened the stairway door. “Money is not an issue. Especially after the Russian operation earlier this year. He told me to prepare for anything.”

  When they got to the second floor, Vyper walked up to a blue Toyota Prius and squatted down behind the liftback. She retrieved a small plastic container attached to a magnet. Inside was a key fob and a battery. She inserted the battery and unlocked the doors. After they both got in, she drove away heading south on Route 7.

  For the past two years, Niko had assumed the legendary Vyper was a man. Marko always said he trusted Vyper completely, but he’d also warned the computer wizard “doesn’t work well with others.”

  She’s different. Hyperactive? … or batshit crazy?

  Vyper headed south and turned into a Walmart lot, driving through and exiting east into an industrial park. A few blocks later, she entered a residential area with ranch homes lining both sides of the road.

  “You live here?” asked Niko.

  “No. Just cautious. Do not want Russians following us to my home.”

  A highway came into view. According to the sign, they’d returned to Route 7. Vyper crossed the highway, entering a neighborhood like the one they just left.

  Niko watched her out of the corner of his eye. She answered every question he asked, but nothing more.

  Is she angry with me? The quiet type? Or just plain weird.

  When stressed, Niko talked. “Marko found me when I was at my lowest.” He held up his left hand, showing four fingers and a stump where his little finger had been. “He took me to a doctor and paid for everything … I miss him.”

  Vyper glanced at the hand and kept driving.

  Tightly packed residential duplexes gave way to expensive homes tucked back in a wooded area. As the road narrowed, the woods became thicker and the houses farther apart.

  Niko rubbed the end of his stump. “I worked for a mob boss in Philadelphia—thought I was smarter than him … I wasn’t.”

  When Vyper didn’t respond, Niko continued. “Marko took me in. Sent me to study at George Mason University. Taught me to make an honest living.”

  This one-sided conversation was frustrating. Niko wasn’t even sure she was listening. “Are you angry with me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

  Vyper shook her head. “I am not angry. I trust you completely.”

  “I’m glad you trust me, but you’re so quiet. Is it something I said? Something I did?”

  Silence filled the car for a few seconds that felt like minutes. Then she responded, “Marko always told me I need to improve my people skills … I am autistic.”

  Now the awkwardness and odd gestures made sense, but the autistic girl Niko remembered from his youth needed constant supervision. She certainly wouldn’t have been able to hack into a computer or drive a car.

  “I didn’t realize you have autism.”

  “It is not a disease. I am autistic—just like you are Ukrainian.”

  “Sorry for prying. I’m a jerk.”

  The woods thinned out. Modular homes dotted both sides of the road. Vyper slowed and turned into a driveway leading through a line of trees. A green modular ranch home appeared in the clearing, situated on a small plot of grass, surrounded by mature oaks and pines.

  Vyper clicked a button on the visor. Her garage door opened, and she parked inside. “Bring everything into the house.”

  They walked through the laundry room into the dining area. The kitchen appeared ahead, and the living room was to the left. Vyper pointed to the right. “Drop your belongings in the bedroom at the end of the hallway. I will connect to the Action Center.”

  Niko dropped his things on the double bed and returned to the living room where Vyper sat on the end of the couch, a computer on her lap. An oversized sweatshirt exposed one shoulder, and her stringy black hair covered the other.

  He sat on the opposite end of the couch and studied the images on the large wall-mounted TV. It displayed four separate live videos of the Center where he had worked in Ashburn, each filling a quarter of the screen. Two cameras covered the operations area from different vantage points. A third showed the front of the building and the fourth showed the roof.

  Niko stared at the people in the room. “It’s crowded. Looks like both shifts are still there. Didn’t they get your message? Why didn’t they go to the safe room?”

  On the screen, Marko’s second-in-command, Franklin, stood before the group. Vyper turned on the sound. “… want to know as soon as the tracker communicates. We need to find the Russians as quickly as—"

  Vyper interrupted. Her voice, altered by the computer to sound eerily mechanical, demanded the attention of everyone in the Action Center. “Code Omicron. Get out of there now. You are at risk.”

  Everyone in the Center spoke at once.

  Franklin held up his hand. “Attention. Attention everyone.”

  The staff faced their boss.

  “Marko warned us. He said our communication has been compromised. Our security team called for backup. They confirmed—help is on its way. Pay no attention to the voice on the PA. The Russians are trying to stop us. As Marko always says, we have a job to do. Do not abandon your station.”

  Niko turned from the screen to look at Vyper. “They should be okay. We use Parthian Security, and they always respond quickly.”

  Vyper didn’t smile. Instead, sh
e stared at the computer, unleashing one rapid burst of typing after another. She shook her head, then spoke into the microphone again, her electronically modified voice interrupting the staff. “Parthian never received your request. The Russians must have intercepted it—no one’s coming. Get out. Now!”

  A warbling alert sounded inside the Center, then a mechanical voice announced, “Airspace breached.”

  The roof camera displayed a drone, illuminated by a spotlight, descending toward the building.

  “Everyone out. Now!” announced Franklin, as he ran toward the door.

  The video from the roof camera showed an octocopter, a drone with eight spinning propellers, holding a package below its belly. Behind it, two more drones followed.

  The first one dropped to the roof. A flash appeared on the screen, followed by a loud bang. Smoke obscured the view on the video.

  Niko looked at the interior Action Center videos where chunks of the ceiling fell onto the people below, blocking their way.

  Another bang followed, and the rooftop video went black.

  The second drone.

  Flames engulfed the screaming men and women, struggling to escape.

  The third octocopter appeared dimly through the flames. Another bang, followed by a fireball, then both interior videos went black, and the sound of screams abruptly stopped.

  The outside camera continued to monitor the attack. The fireball from the third drone blew the front doors open, shooting flames across the parking lot.

  Prixster

  Chapter 6

  Vyper’s Home—Sterling, Virginia

  Niko sat on Vyper’s couch, eyes on the TV, studying the video for any sign of people escaping the building. Everyone he worked with, including his friends Rocky and Gato, were inside. Flames enveloped more of the building.

  No one’s coming out!

  At the other end of the couch, Vyper’s fingers hammered away at her keyboard. This was the same woman who freaked out at the news of Marko’s death, but she didn’t react to this attack. Everyone inside the building—maybe thirty people—could be dying … or dead.