Cyberian Affair

by Mark A Pryor

  She ran her hand across his stomach. “They say it is better in the Bahamas. I agree.”

  After sharing a shower, they sat at the dining room table with coffee and bagels. The view through the sliding glass windows was tropical and serene. Palm trees lined the sea wall. The towering hotels on Paradise Island appeared in the distance.

  Niko carried their empty cups to the kitchen, refilled them, and returned. He took a sip. “How’s the job going?”

  “It is boring. We wait around in case the cloud service develops a problem, but nothing happens on second shift. There are only two of us, and Junior plays video games all evening. Imagine a twenty-something Bahamian man who calls himself Junior.”

  “I’d love to visit you at work.” Niko laid his hand on hers. “You get a dinner break, don’t you? Maybe I could join you for dinner.”

  “You know we cannot be seen together in public—the Russians might notice. Fortunately, I do not eat with Junior. One of us must stay in the office to cover the shift. I always go to Blackbeard's Conch House. It is a dive, but the seafood is great—and the crowds disappear after the cruise ships leave.”

  “I’m sorry you have to eat alone.” Niko sipped his coffee. “So, tell me about Junior. Is he a good gamer? Can he beat you?”

  “Junior likes video poker.” Vyper wrinkled her nose. “I spend my time watching what the Russians are doing. They are still poking around in the Texas oil fields. It looks serious, but Smith says we should let Homeland handle it. He wants us to work on our mission.”

  “Did Smith say anything about the firmware for the weapon?”

  Vyper shook her head. “He thanked me for it. He never talks about the weapon, or the KILROY message. Says he is forbidden to share the information with us. It worries me, though.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Niko. “That firmware is pretty complex for a simple weapon. It’s got to be something expensive and dangerous. And that KILROY message—the CIA doesn’t want it to remain a secret forever. I think they intend to scare someone—let them know we’ve penetrated their systems.”

  “We can only guess what the CIA is doing. No sense in worrying about it.” Vyper went to the living room and brought her laptop back. “Let me show you how far I have gotten with the Coral datacenter.”

  Niko moved his chair closer.

  When she typed in a command, a floor layout appeared. “This is the datacenter. I found it on an engineering database. Each of those rectangles is a client enclosure, with their internet address ranges in the corner.” She pointed to a spot near the middle of the room. “The Russian hacking of Rockefeller Petroleum comes from this client—a company identified as Blue Koala Systems. I tried to identify the owner, but it was registered anonymously in Santa Fe, New Mexico.”

  “So, that’s Zatan’s computer center?”

  “Yes, and I tapped into Coral’s security camera system.” Vyper displayed five rows of video snapshots on the screen. “I can even control recording and playback. Some cameras scan along a fixed path while others remain stationary. I can see all the open areas, but some clients have rigid containers to isolate their operation—they do their own monitoring.”

  A video filled the screen, the image moving slowly to the right. Wire cages stood in a line, each one containing racks of computer equipment. At the end of the line of cages was an enclosure made of smoked glass. Vyper pointed to it. “This belongs to Blue Koala. Somehow, you need to get inside.”

  Niko spotted a panel next to the entrance. “Is that one of those badge readers?”

  Vyper nodded. “Clients manage the badge IDs for their own employees, but they use the same system.”

  Something moved past the camera. It looked like a Segway but didn’t have a passenger. Niko studied it. “What’s that?”

  “A robot,” said Vyper. “That one is for security. It makes scheduled rounds searching for irregularities. It also checks most of the equipment indicator lights. They have other robots, too. Some swap out disk drives—that kind of thing.” She smiled. “I can control them from here.”

  A silly thought struck Niko. “You could start a robot rebellion. It would freak people out.”

  Vyper shoved his arm. “Sometimes I wonder how your mind works.” Another floor layout appeared on her laptop. This version showed loudspeakers, smoke and heat detectors, and several small yellow boxes with red letters. “Everything is computer-controlled. Those boxes are the fire suppression nozzles. Not water, though. They use inert gas—displaces the oxygen.”

  “Wow,” said Niko. “When I do get inside the datacenter, you’ll be with me … well, virtually. You’ll be watching me and watching my back.”

  Vyper tapped on the laptop and the images of two faces appeared. “Do you recognize these men?”

  “They’re my students. Are those Blue Koala ID badges?”

  “They are,” said Vyper. “I downloaded the images you captured at the university with your eyeglass camera. I compared those faces against the ID badges at Coral. These are the only two who match. They work for Zatan.”

  “Fantastic.” Niko got up and retrieved his laptop. He typed the names of the students. “I’ll look them up on the internet later. Got to find a way to get close to them.”

  Vyper took the cups to the sink. “Smith should be happy with our progress.”

  Niko grabbed the plates, only a few bagel crumbs remaining, and walked behind her. “You know Smith would expect us to practice our Krav Maga.”

  She turned around and scrunched up her face. “I told you. I do not like it. I watched you practice, but I cannot do it. I hate violence—real or practice.”

  “I wish you’d try, Vyper. Sokolov is after you and he won’t give up. You need to learn to defend yourself.”

  Vyper’s hand flapped. She pressed her palm on the table. “No. All my life, I have avoided conflict. Even when I was abused, I always submitted quietly. It is difficult to change.”

  “What’ll you do if Sokolov finds you? Will you submit to him? Do whatever he wants?”

  “I … I cannot let him win. I will try to resist.”

  Niko rested his hand on her shoulder. “Do you remember what they told us in Krav Maga training? What they said about aggression?”

  Vyper’s head drooped. “Fight quickly, violently. Do not stop until the enemy is down and helpless.”

  “Can you do it? Will you do it?”

  “I … I don’t know. Maybe—”

  Niko’s phone rang. He accepted it and waited for a secure connection.

  “Smith here,” said the voice on the phone. “We need your help—actually we need Vyper’s help.”

  “Wait until I put it on speaker,” said Niko. “Okay, go ahead.”

  “There’s a major refinery fire at Rockefeller Petroleum in Harrisburg, east of Houston. Five storage tanks are on fire and emergency crews are trying to keep it from spreading to other tanks. Homeland believes it was a cyber-attack.”

  Vyper yelled at the phone. “Of course it is. We warned Homeland weeks ago. You said they would handle it. You told us to leave it alone. Now you ask for our help?”

  Smith’s voice was calm but firm. “So far, no casualties have been reported, but that could change. I need you to work with Homeland. I’m transferring you to the response team.”

  A man with a southern accent came on the line. “Williams here. They tell me you can help.”

  “This is Harris. What happened. How did it start?”

  “A large pool of gasoline at Lamar Refinery formed out of nowhere and ignited, triggering several explosions. None of Rockefeller’s equipment detected any leak, but it should have.”

  “Did they shut down all the pumps moving flammable liquids throughout the refinery?”

  “It’s an extensive operation. They turned off everything near the affected area.”

  Vyper looked at Niko and threw her hands in the air, then she faced the phone. “If you suspect a cyber-attack, why did you limit the shutdown area?” />
  “Like I said, it’s a large operation.”

  “Stop all the pumps—throughout Lamar. And block external network access. You must not allow it to spread.”

  “We’ll do as you recommend with the network. As far as the pumps, I’ll forward your request to Rockefeller management.”

  Vyper rolled her eyes. “Give me access to the network—a satellite link if necessary.”

  For the next two hours, Vyper worked with Homeland to inspect all systems in the Lamar network. The cyber infection was extensive, spreading to dozens of flow computers and other industrial controls. Despite her pleas, Rockefeller didn’t stop any equipment outside the affected region.

  Niko watched the news coverage. Images of flames and thick black smoke played in the background while reporters interviewed local officials. Area roads were shut down. Residents in nearby Harrisburg were told to shelter in place.

  Vyper yelled into the phone, “There is a new leak. Sensors show a sudden pressure drop but the computer is not reporting it to operations staff.” She gave the details to Homeland.

  A breaking news chyron ran across the bottom of the TV broadcast. A reporter explained the situation. “Emergency crews have been deployed to the site of a new leak. Officials have not identified the—”

  An explosion appeared on the TV. Flames and black smoke shot up. The image jiggled and shifted for a better view.

  On the speaker phone, Williams from Homeland spoke. “We’re shutting down all pumps at Lamar.”

  As the hours passed, Vyper helped identify and restore the software on all operational systems at Lamar. She also inspected systems in refineries throughout Texas and Louisiana searching for signs of an attack. It was after midnight by the time Homeland declared it to be contained.

  Mr. Smith came on the phone. “I want to express my thanks, and the thanks of Texas and the nation, for saving lives and mitigating the damage. To protect you, we have concealed your identity, but we are in debt to you nevertheless.”

  Vyper shook her head. “It did not have to be this bad. Next time listen to what I tell you.”

  Niko moved closer to the phone. “Now that Vyper restored Rockefeller’s service, is our Nassau operation over? Do we go home?”

  “Definitely not,” said Smith. “The Russians have already begun planning another attack. They won’t give up until we stop them.”

  “Another attack? What’s their new target?” asked Niko.

  “It’s getting late. I can brief you tomorrow.” Silence hung in the air for a few long seconds. “I’ll tell you this much. One of their targets is the Calvert Cliffs power plant southeast of DC.”

  Vyper raised an eyebrow. “That is nuclear.”

  “You’re right.” Smith ended the call.

  Niko kissed Vyper. “It won’t do any good to worry about it tonight. You’re tired and we have to go to work tomorrow. Now is a good time for me to sneak back into my apartment.” He left.

  ***

  Despite yesterday’s excitement, Monday morning was a normal work day for Niko. As Professor Anton Zhora, he gave his ‘Defense in Depth’ security lecture to each class, making sure to capture images of his students with the eyeglass camera. He paid special attention to the two young men identified as Zatan’s employees.

  When he arrived home, he grilled a hamburger for dinner. It reminded him that Vyper would be eating alone at Blackbeard's Conch House right now.

  Niko put away the dishes and sat on the couch. Just as he settled in, an alarm went off on his phone. He read the message:

  CELL/A – SIM CARD REMOVED

  Vyper! Someone’s got her!

  Vanished

  Chapter 27

  Niko’s heart raced. He jumped up from the couch.

  Someone has Vyper’s phone.

  He wanted to call her, but she wouldn’t be able to answer if someone else had her phone. He made a secure call to Smith. “This is Niko. Someone removed Vyper’s SIM card.”

  The CIA agent’s calm voice responded. “We know. We got the same alert. I’ve mobilized a search. Do you have any idea where she might have been?”

  Niko couldn’t think. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Blackbeard’s Conch House near the airport. She eats dinner there when she works.”

  “I know the place. Her phone’s GPS history puts her in that area at the time of the alert. If they have any security tapes, we’ll check them out … hold on a minute.”

  The line went silent. Time moved slowly as he waited.

  Smith came back on the line. “I need your help, Niko. Set your fears aside and focus. Two men have Vyper’s phone. I believe they’re speaking Russian.”

  Niko’s recent nightmares flashed through his mind. Sokolov smiling, Vyper screaming.

  Smith’s voice was insistent. “Niko, are you still there?”

  “I’m here. Where’s Vyper? Is she okay?”

  “Listen to me. Her cell is streaming video and audio to the emergency web page right now. I can see one man speaking Russian, and I hear another man’s voice responding. No sign of Vyper, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t there.”

  An alarm went off on Niko’s phone:

  CELL/A - NO POWER

  “We received the same alarm,” said Smith. “One of the men destroyed her phone.”

  Niko gripped the arm of the couch. Shock and fear turned into anger and resolve. “Did it give you a location before it died?”

  “Along the north shore of Lake Cunningham, but I’m sure they won’t stay there. For now, I need you to watch the video of those Russians. Watch it from beginning to end. You might see or hear something we didn’t notice.”

  “You can find her, can’t you? She’s got an implant in her scalp.”

  “When we get close enough, her implant will respond, but it’s only good for a hundred meters. If her purse is still with her, it’ll respond at two hundred meters.”

  “What good is that? You don’t know where she is, do you?”

  “We got a security video from Blackbeard’s. It shows two men escorting her into a car. That same car just passed a traffic camera on Independence Drive. We’ve dispatched drones to the area. They might be able to spot the vehicle. Better yet, they’re equipped to detect Vyper’s implant.”

  “You saw her at Blackbeard’s?” yelled Niko. “What happened? Was she hurt?”

  “She fell asleep or passed out while she was eating—probably drugged. Two burly men spoke to the waitress before carrying her out to their vehicle. We sent detectives to the restaurant. They’ll find out what happened.”

  Niko grabbed his laptop and sat on the couch. “I’ll check out the video. Call you back later.” He set down his phone and opened the web page on the computer. A short list of two videos appeared—one for the front camera and one for the back. Niko selected the one in the front.

  A close-up of someone’s hand appeared, resting on a dark T-shirt. The gruff man’s voice spoke Russian over the muted sound of a car engine. “I got the SIM card.” The image shifted abruptly to the face of a middle-aged, eastern European man with a nose that must have been broken once. “There, I turned it off.” The video moved in a jerk to his lap and remained dark.

  Niko knew the phone would never turn off, but the Russian didn’t know.

  A different voice asked, “Is the girl still out? Do we have to tie her up?”

  “No,” was the answer. “She will stay asleep long enough to get to the house. Then she is Falcon’s problem.”

  Falcon! Sokolov!

  The name hit him hard. His worst fears had come true.

  Neither Russian spoke for several minutes, then one of them broke the silence. “Pull over here. I’ll ditch the phone.”

  It sounded like they pulled onto a gravel road and stopped. The image jumped from a view of the man’s shirt to a car door, which opened. The video moved in a blur, then settled on a glimpse of the night sky before it was blotted out by the heel of a shoe. Then the audio and video ended.

&
nbsp; Niko played the second recording—from the back camera. The audio was identical. The video didn’t add anything new—only a stationary image of the inside roof of the car.

  He called Smith. “Have you found her?”

  “Not yet,” was the response. “The last camera their vehicle passed was at a bank near the mall on Marathon Road. It turned into the Highland Park area. We sent a drone to search from a low altitude. No signal yet. Agents are in the area.”

  “They’re taking her to Sokolov,” said Niko. “They called him Sokol—that’s Falcon in Russian and Ukrainian. It was his nickname in Sevastopol. I’m heading to Highland Park.”

  “We’ll find her. Stay where you are.”

  Niko ended the call and grabbed his Glock. He checked the magazine and picked up extra ammunition.

  Then he remembered the interrogating radar unit Miss Q had given him. “It’s best to use the directional antenna,” she had told him. “The signal will be strongest when the antenna is pointed in the direction of the implant.”

  Niko rushed to the computer room and tucked everything under his arm before heading to the car.

  ***

  Vyper awoke slowly, unsure of where she was. She opened her eyes and stared at a sloped, off-white ceiling with a single light bulb hanging from the center. She was lying on a cheap couch with unmatched, fraying cushions. Her sundress was rumpled, riding high on her thighs. One of her legs dangled over the side, her leather wedge shoe secured tightly by the straps.

  A man shouted, “Sokol,” in a gruff voice.

  Sokolov! He is here!

  She shifted her gaze to the sound, and locked eyes with a short, husky man with closely trimmed hair. He continued shouting at someone in another room, while another voice responded. The language sounded Russian.

  Vyper’s mind instinctively blocked out everything around her. She flapped her hands and rocked her head back and forth. It was comforting.

  She thought about Niko and smiled. Then she thought about her situation. This was no time to zone out. Niko would expect more of her. She stopped flapping and squeezed her hands into fists.

  Krav Maga. What did they teach?