Cyberian Affair

by Mark A Pryor

  One technique seemed appropriate right now. Act vulnerable until an opportunity arises.

  Vyper could not fight this man while lying on her back. And someone—Sokolov—was just outside the door. For now, she decided to watch and wait for an opening. Then she would have to strike hard—and keep striking. Her shoes might slow her down, or they could be used as weapons. She decided to keep them on.

  The room was small. The only furniture besides the couch was a folding chair. Another man walked through the doorway and stopped. It was Sokolov. Vyper recognized his face from the pictures she had seen. He was shorter than Niko had described, but more intimidating. He held a large knife in his hand. His voice was gruff, and his lips curled into a cruel smile. “You are awake, Prixster.” He glanced at the other man and pointed to Vyper.

  As Sokolov watched, his assistant grabbed Vyper by the hair and pulled her roughly to her feet.

  She tried to get up quickly while keeping her shoes on. Successful, she slumped in a submissive posture before the man she despised.

  His assistant stood behind Vyper and grabbed her arms, holding them tightly.

  Sokolov walked up to her. His hot breath smelled like rotten fish. His black eyes sent a chill down her spine. “You stole my money.” He brandished his knife before her eyes. The blade was half a foot long, sharp on one edge and serrated on the other. “You will return it to me.”

  Vyper resisted the urge to take her mind to a safe place. She had to remain alert and ready. She averted her gaze, feigning submissiveness, and answered in a low voice. “I do not know who you are, or where your money is.”

  Sokolov pressed the blade of the knife against Vyper’s cheek, just below her eye. “It would be a shame to cut this pretty face.” He stepped back and looked at her, moving his eyes slowly from head to foot. He ran the point of the knife down to her shoulder. “Pretty dress. Such a pity it covers up a beautiful woman.” He slipped the blade under the spaghetti strap.

  Vyper’ first reaction was embarrassment. Her arms were bound, and this evil man planned to cut the straps of her dress. It had a built-in bra, so nothing would cover her once the top slipped down.

  Then her mind focused on Krav Maga.

  This is my opportunity. He will be distracted.

  Sokolov slid the blade along her strap, cutting it and freeing the dress from one shoulder. He smiled and moved the knife to her other strap. When he sliced it, the dress slid to her waist, giving him a clear view of her body.

  Now!

  Vyper raised one foot and smashed it onto the instep of the man behind her, using all the speed and force she could muster. Her arms slipped free as the man shouted in pain. She raised her knee, threatening a kick to Sokolov’s groin.

  He swung both hands down to protect himself, leaving his head vulnerable. Vyper clapped her hands forcefully on both of his ears. Before he reacted, she butted his head with the top of hers, and jumped forward, knocking him over.

  As they fell together, she grabbed his head and prepared to smash his skull on the concrete. Before they hit the floor, she felt a sharp pain in her side—the knife.

  ***

  Niko drove along the narrow streets of Highland Park, shacks and rickety fences on either side. Trash, old tires, and abandoned cars littered empty lots. His radar unit hadn’t shown any sign of a signal.

  The phone rang. Smith was on the other end. “Our drone spotted the building.” He gave Niko the GPS coordinates. “It’s a peach-colored shack with an old fishing boat around the back. I’m sending a team. If you get there before they do, wait. Vyper has a better chance if you don’t try to be a hero. I’m dispatching another drone—this one with an infrared camera.”

  A few minutes later, Niko approached the building, driving slowly. He checked the radar which consistently indicated the same building.

  This is the place. Vyper’s in there.

  He parked across the street and walked toward a neighboring building which appeared to be abandoned. From there, he could watch the house. Weeds had taken over the yard, nearly covering the old boat Smith had described.

  Three men in jogging suits, carrying gym bags, walked casually toward Niko, waving. As they got closer, one man held his finger to his lips and pointed to a cluster of palm trees. Niko joined him.

  Each man squatted before their gym bag and opened it. They removed bulky goggles and fitted them to their faces. They also donned heavy vests.

  One of the men, probably the team leader, handed a vest to Niko and whispered, “Put this on. It won’t protect you completely, but it should stop a body shot. Meanwhile, stay here while we recon the situation.”

  The CIA team spread out, disappearing into tall weeds. A drone with four vertical propellers flew overhead, then turned around and flew back.

  Soon, the leader appeared at the house where Vyper was being held. He motioned for Niko to join him.

  The man spoke softly. “All the windows are covered with plywood, but infrared shows four people inside. One near the front door, probably a guard. The other three are together in one small room—only one of them is standing. That’s where the implant’s signal is coming from. Wait outside until we call for you. Your presence should let the woman know we’re the good guys.” He handed Niko a radio.

  Niko nodded. “I have a gun. I can help.”

  “No,” said the leader. “My team has infrared scopes. We work well together. I don’t want you shooting anyone on my team. You could be killed, too. We’ll neutralize the enemy. If something goes wrong, and you have to defend yourself, assume they’re wearing body armor. Shoot for the head.” He pointed to one of his men, standing at the side of the house, aiming a rifle at the boarded-up window. “The assault starts when he takes out the guard.”

  The leader ran to the door and pressed his back to the wall, holding a rifle against his chest. Once the first shot rang out, he kicked down the door and ducked inside. The man at the window followed him. Four more shots rang out in rapid succession.

  Niko’s heart pounded. He wanted to believe Vyper was okay.

  The radio chirped, and a voice announced, “All clear.”

  Niko rushed inside past the body of a man lying on his back with a bullet hole in his forehead, a small pool of blood forming under his head.

  The leader stood outside a room at the far corner, waving his arm for Niko to approach.

  Niko ran up to him. “Is Vyper in there? Is she all right?”

  The man nodded, a grim expression on his face. “I’m sorry—”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Niko saw movement inside the room. He rushed in. One agent spoke on the phone. Another was kneeling next to three people lying on the floor—one was a woman. She lay face down, wearing nothing but underwear—Vyper’s underwear. Her flowery sundress lay in a rumpled pile near her feet.

  When Niko knelt down, he spotted the handle of a knife sticking out of her side.

  Nuclear Threat

  Chapter 28

  Niko opened his eyes when he heard a door open. He was alone in the Nassau Hospital waiting room—must have dozed off waiting to hear from the surgeon. He rose from the chair.

  A young doctor wearing blue scrubs stepped into the room and walked over to Niko. “Mister Martin?”

  Niko nodded. As far as the hospital was concerned, Martin was his name, and the patient was his wife. He searched the doctor’s expression for any hint of Vyper’s condition, but the man was impossible to read. “How’s she doing?”

  The surgeon’s face softened, and he extended his hand. “I am Doctor Hudson. The surgery went well.”

  Niko shook his hand. A sense of relief washed over him, and he reached for the arm of his chair.

  “Please sit, Mister Martin.” The doctor held Niko’s arm until he settled into the chair. “Your wife was fortunate. The knife missed her major blood vessels.” He took a seat. “Her abdominal injuries were limited to the small intestine. We repaired the damage, but the risk of peritonitis is significant.”
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  “That’s an infection, isn’t it?”

  Hudson nodded. “We have already started treating her intravenously with antibiotics.”

  “I understand she has a head injury.”

  “She suffered a concussion from a blunt blow to the back of her neck. It might have been a fist.”

  “When can I see her, Doctor?”

  “She’s in recovery right now. We’ll notify you as soon as she can receive visitors.”

  When Hudson left, Niko checked his watch—nearly midnight. He planned to stay here all night if necessary. The magazines on the coffee table catered to medicine and women’s fashion. He spotted a remote control and turned on the TV, tuning it to an international network news broadcast.

  Videos of Sunday’s fire at Rockefeller Petroleum appeared in the background while a reporter from Texas described the effect it had on the Houston area communities. After a commercial break, the news anchor introduced the story:

  Homeland Security released a statement earlier this evening, identifying a malicious computer virus as the cause of the Texas refinery fires. The Department has heightened the security posture at all major oil and gas suppliers in the United States.

  Computer virus my ass. It was a Russian attack.

  Niko muted the TV, pulled out his phone, and logged onto a private network in Miami. He accessed Rockefeller Petroleum’s corporate systems. Their security team was on high alert, in constant communication with Homeland. Rockefeller was fully aware of the details of the attack, but unaware that Russia was the attacker. Niko checked two other Texas oil companies and discovered the same level of engagement.

  Satisfied the refinery issues were being handled, Niko looked up the Calvert Cliffs nuclear power plant. Without his laptop, he couldn’t penetrate their defenses.

  The phone rang, and Niko waited for the secure call to connect.

  Smith’s voice came on the line. “Have you had a chance to see Vyper yet?”

  “Not yet. The doctor said things went well but he was worried about an infection.”

  “She’ll get the best care available, Niko. We’re sending her to Walter Reed Medical Center in Maryland. Doctor Hudson said she should be able to travel soon, so we scheduled a flight for noon today.”

  “I’ll be glad when Vyper’s back home. She shouldn’t have come here.”

  “We’ll all feel better when she’s back in the States. For now, Nassau Hospital’s assigned her to a private room, and I had it swept for bugs.”

  “Thanks.” Niko turned the TV off. “Did we get Sokolov? I never got a straight answer before heading to the hospital.”

  “We got him. Actually, I believe Vyper got him. He was the man lying under her when we arrived. His head must have hit the floor hard.”

  Niko pictured Vyper’s body lying face down—not on the floor. He remembered the knife, but he couldn’t picture the person underneath. “He’s dead?”

  “In a coma … I doubt he’ll ever regain consciousness. The other guys are dead.”

  With Sokolov near death, and never able to come after them again, Niko should feel safe—but then he thought about Zatan. According to the CIA, he and Sokolov had been working together. That got him thinking. “How will the local news report the gunfight when we rescued Vyper? The neighbors would have noticed.”

  “As far as the public knows, the police raided the house to capture two drug dealers who died in the gunfight. No one else was there—not Sokolov, Vyper, or you.”

  “It sounds like you’ve got everything worked out. After I see her, I’ll get ready for our flight.”

  “You don’t understand, Niko. We’re flying Vyper home. We need you to continue the operation. We don’t know what Zatan’s planning with Calvert Cliffs—and possibly other power plants.”

  “This was a two-person operation.” Niko stood and paced across the room. “Without Vyper, the plan won’t work.”

  “We didn’t want her to come to Nassau with you. We only agreed because she insisted. When she’s feeling better, she can assist you from her hospital bed.”

  The door opened and a tall woman in a business suit entered the waiting room. “Mister Martin?”

  Niko held the phone away from his mouth. “That’s me.”

  “You can see your wife now.” She waved her arm at the open door.

  He nodded and spoke to Smith. “Gotta go. Talk to you later.” He followed the woman down the hall to one of the rooms.

  Vyper lay in a large bed surrounded by equipment. Two computer screens beeped behind her, displaying wiggly lines. An IV bag with dark red liquid hung from a hook.

  He walked slowly to her side. A tube and several wires ran from the equipment to her bed, disappearing under her blanket. A purple bruise marred her beautiful face from her left eye to her chin. He stood there watching her breathe.

  Vyper’s eyes blinked and opened. She turned her head, a weak smile on her lips. “Niko.” Her hand reached for him. “I knew you would find me.”

  He took her hand and kissed it. “I was so worried. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” He brushed the hair from her face. “Are you in pain?”

  She shook her head slowly. “The drugs must be working. I just feel tired.” She squeezed Niko’s hand. “You would have been proud of me. I defended myself … at least I tried.”

  “I’m very proud of you. Sokolov won’t ever threaten us again.”

  “Is he dead?”

  Niko shook his head. “Not dead, but he’ll never leave the hospital.”

  “I hope I can leave the hospital soon. Have they told you anything?”

  Niko told her what the doctor said.

  She nodded. “Sokolov had the knife, but I think the other man punched me—knocked me out cold.”

  “The CIA plans to take good care of you. They’re flying you to Walter Reed. Your flight’s leaving at noon today …” Niko looked at his watch. “… in about nine hours.”

  Vyper raised her index finger. “I cannot go. We have to stop Zatan. He knows who I am. He told Sokolov about me.”

  “You have to go. They have the best doctors. Zatan can wait.”

  Her hand began to flap. She closed her eyes and the hand stopped. “I will go.” She opened her eyes. “But you must stay. Help Smith. Find Zatan.”

  ***

  Niko had no classes today, so he did online research in his Nassau apartment while waiting for Vyper to call. He marked the time watching the long shadows of the palm trees outside his window shrink slowly from the west before stretching east again.

  The phone rang—a secure call. He answered it right away. “Vyper, how are you doing? How was the flight?”

  The sound of her voice made him smile. “I miss you, Niko. I slept through the flight and slept even more in my room. Nurses pushed my bed to radiology for a CT scan. They seem to be satisfied with my operation in Nassau.”

  “I miss you, too. They say sleep helps you heal.”

  Vyper’s voice was weak. “I want to see what Zatan is up to, but I do not feel like concentrating. I saw some news reports, but I did not follow up. Did Homeland declare a higher threat level?”

  “They did.” Niko selected the DHS web page on his laptop. “The alert is limited to oil and gas for now. No public mention of nuclear power plants, but I found suspicious Russian network traffic poking around the Calvert Cliffs site. It looks similar to the early phases of the Rockefeller Petroleum attack.”

  “If Zatan’s folks follow the same plan as Rockefeller, you know how to stop them, but they might be going after other locations. You will have to expand your search.”

  “I’ve already begun.” Niko retrieved the notes from his recent research. “I’ve also been going through engineering documents from the Coral datacenter and some of their clients. I’ve got a better picture of how everything works there. Of course, Zatan’s network, Blue Koala, has tighter security. I’m having trouble fleshing out more details, but I’m working on it.”

  “Have you l
ooked at the badge reader logs?”

  “It’s interesting. Blue Koala personnel work day shift only. The students you identified—the ones in my class—work Thursday through Sunday. That makes sense since my class is Monday and Wednesday. I’ll see both of them tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I’ve done some research online—Facebook, Twitter, and others. I plan to make friends with those guys.”

  “You are making wonderful progress. See, you do not need me.”

  “You’ve taught me a lot, but I need you now more than ever. And not only because—”

  An alert popped up on Niko’s laptop. “Holy shit! Something deadly serious is going on. Alerts have been sent to airmen stationed at two strategic bases, recalling all personnel to their duty stations immediately. One’s Whiteman in Missouri—that’s B-2 bombers. The other is Warren in Wyoming—that’s missiles. They could have sent out additional messages. I just don’t know.”

  “Could this be related to the Homeland alert? Or maybe Calvert Cliffs?”

  “I don’t think so. The worst-case scenario with a power plant would be a core meltdown. Something else is going on.” Niko checked a web site known for tracking US defense posture. “Our military never tells the public about DEFCON levels, but I think we may have gone to DEFCON 3. Those bombers—those missiles—they’re used for nuclear war.”

  Kilroy

  Chapter 29

  Bethesda, Maryland

  Vyper felt sore this morning, but she didn’t ask the nurses for pain medication. She needed her mind sharp.

  Niko’s words last night had scared her. DEFCON 3. When she was younger, she had heard stories from people who lived through the Cuban missile crisis—their genuine fear of nuclear war. That was ancient history—now the world could be facing it again.

  Mister Smith knocked at the open doorway and peered into the room. “Are you accepting visitors?”

  “I have been waiting for you.” Vyper reached for the buttons that controlled her bed, raising her head a few inches. She looked around the room. “I presume it is safe for us to talk here.”

  Smith nodded and held a laptop in his hand. “I brought your computer.”