by Peter Beck
Winter looked at his watch. ‘We’ll wait here. They’ll be back soon. Leave me to sort it out.’
‘Why do you think Baumgartner did it?’ Känzig asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Before Winter could speculate any further his phone rang. On the small screen he saw three missed calls and one coming through now. He moved away from Känzig and took the call. ‘Winter.’
‘Hello Winter, it’s Smith here. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for an hour. I hope I haven’t woken you after last night.’
‘Good morning. I was inside a mountain.’ He calculated the time difference. On the east coast of America it was six o’clock. And Smith had already been up for a while. What did the NSA man want from him at this hour? It must be important. Känzig walked across the clearing and sat on a tree stump at the edge.
‘Everything alright with you?’ Smith asked.
‘Yes. Magnificent sunshine and I’m making progress. Why do you ask? Should I be worried?’
‘I think so. The Securities and Exchange Commission has detected something that will interest you. As you know, after 9/11 the SEC introduced a notification system for unusual share and options transactions. Since then we’ve improved it after every financial crisis. It prevents certain types of speculation and stops terrorists from getting rich after an attack.’
‘I know the early warning system. Which thresholds were crossed?’ If, for example, the volume of shares or options being traded exceeded certain limits, a computer-operated alert was triggered.
‘Pyramid Investment Partners has massively sold short a variety of large banks but especially the financial group behind your bank. It’s betting with options on a sinking share price.’ For the financial group, whose shares were listed on the Zürich, Frankfurt, London and New York markets, there were more than two hundred different call and put options.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, so far as I can see,’ Smith said, rustling some papers, ‘over the last two weeks Pyramid Investment Partners has itself and via a number of shell companies bought massive options from issuers on all the important stock markets. They’re trying to spread out the purchases and so keep below the radar. But the total sum of purchases got the alarm bells ringing.’
‘Average expiry?’
‘All short. Most only run till the end of the month, and none of the options is valid for longer than three months.’
‘Strike price?’
‘Most deep out of the money. The average strike price is way below the current share price. And many with big leverage. All in all, the transactions add up to more than one hundred million.’ If the share price fell substantially then Farmer would earn a fortune. With such sums you could pay for murder out of petty cash.
‘Farmer knows something we don’t,’ Winter said.
‘Yes. The notification only came through an hour ago. I’ve been on the phone ever since, trying to find out what’s going on.’
‘Is the TAA behind it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is that your official opinion?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what’s your personal opinion?’
‘It’s not relevant, but the answer is “Yes”. In the past, right-wing extremists used to rob banks; these days they speculate and manipulate stock market prices. It’s more profitable.’
Winter’s synapses were red hot.
First the True and Armed Americans fraudulently got hold of their enemies’ money, from Al-Bader and other rich Arabs. And now Farmer was trying to multiply this cache. Al-Bader had seen through the professor and demanded the special audit. Farmer had had to get him out of the way to win time.
But for what?
‘Winter? Are you still there?’
‘Yes. For that sort of money, you’d normally have to rob several banks.’
‘You’re telling me. And up till now everything’s been legal.’
‘I know.’
‘Winter, for Pyramid Investment Partners to be successful the share price of the financial group has to fall dramatically. How can Farmer exert that sort of pressure on the share price? He has to manipulate it somehow.’
The rusty door of the bunker creaked. Dirk came out, followed by a beaming von Tobler and his guests. They were blinded by the sun, but convinced that their data were secure with Secer AG, deep in the mountain, protected by old artillery cannons.
Winter stared at them.
‘Smith! I know what Farmer’s planning! He’s bought shares in Secer. This firm stores data for various banks, including ours and the financial group’s. Imagine what would happen if we lost the data. It would be a catastrophe. The share price would hit the floor.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Just this morning I got the list of Pyramid Investment Partners’ investments. They’re big shareholders in Secer AG. Farmer isn’t digging a tunnel into the vault; he’s simply bought access with his oil money.’
‘Sophisticated.’
‘Right now I’m standing outside the bunker that contains Secer AG’s server farm. Investment in vital infrastructure. Do you remember? I was always thinking of something on the lines of 9/11 or the oil rig. But Farmer’s planning an attack from the inside that would also have devastating consequences. And it would be so easy for him to do, because as a major shareholder he has access.’
As he spoke Winter felt annoyed at himself for not having listened attentively during the tour. Dirk had told him that only very few people got to see the inside of the server farm. The head of IT was proud that he’d managed to organize this special visit.
‘What are you doing there?’
‘We’re visiting the bunker as part of our annual conference.’
‘Isn’t that a good opportunity to smuggle something into the sensitive area?’ Smith asked from the other side of the Atlantic.
It was a question that the security planner of the annual conference had no answer to.
More satisfied bankers and clients came pouring out of the bunker. They were physically safe at least. Or were they?
In the stream of people Winter spotted Fatima’s black hair. She was looking out for him. He waved and she began heading towards him.
Where was Baumgartner?
‘Maybe Farmer has bought access to other data storage centres. If several of these places were to break down, the stock markets would collapse. The security measures in the data centres need to be checked immediately. The biggest danger is from moles right at the top of the hierarchy. Warn the other banks.’
‘Okay. I’ll see to that and I’ll get the cyber boys out of bed too.’
‘When does the New York stock market open?’
A pause. Smith looked at his watch. ‘In three hours and seventeen minutes.’
Winter swallowed, and then he hung up.
AUGUST 7 – 12:13
Fatima was standing beside Winter. ‘Hello. Where did you get to? The bunker museum was really interesting. I didn’t know that Switzerland was encircled by the Nazis in the Second World War.’ Fatima noticed the deep furrows between Winter’s eyes. ‘Everything okay?’
He put his mobile away, shook his head and looked her in the eye. ‘Now I know who gave Anne the bomb.’
Fatima’s eyes grew wider. ‘Who?’
‘Later. The murderer is here. Somewhere in the crowd.’ Fatima slapped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. ‘And he’s planning an attack on the server farm. Wait here!’ When she opened her eyes again Winter was making his way through the visitors, who were chatting as they waited to go back to the hotel and enjoying the sunshine after the stale bunker air.
Grabbing Dirk, Winter said, ‘I need to talk to you now. Now!’
The head of IT excused himself apologetically from a client and was hurried to the edge of the crowd by Winter.
‘Hey, Winter, what’s going on?’ Dirk protested. Then, seeing from Winter’s face that this was no time for any backchat, he shut up.
‘Dirk.
Two questions. Where’s Baumgartner?’
‘Baumgartner?’
‘You know, the oily one in the suit – the liaison man for the chairman’s office. He was here. I saw him.’
‘Oh, him.’ Dirk made a dismissive gesture.
‘Do you have any idea where he might be?’
‘No, but I could call him.’
‘That’s not necessary. Give me the number.’ Dirk accessed the contact details on his phone and Winter copied the number in his.
‘Second question to Dirk the IT expert. What would be the easiest way to bring Secer AG to its knees?’
‘Are you going mad?’
‘No. It’s very likely that an attack is imminent. As an insider how would you incapacitate the servers?’
‘It’s not possible. Everything is backed-up twice, three times.’
‘Come on, Dirk. The Titanic sank, didn’t it?’
‘You can’t just pull a plug.’
‘Dirk. Use your imagination.’
Dirk rubbed his nose and closed his eyes. ‘It’s all backed up several times. The data are constantly mirrored and saved. This compensates for a possible server failure. All systems are duplicated. Even with today’s processing power you couldn’t crack the access codes in a million years. The entire complex is secured with armed guards. Nobody can enter with a weapon. You’ve seen that yourself. If the alarm goes off the security doors shut automatically and seal the whole thing off.’
Dirk energetically waved his hands either side of his head. His eyes still closed, he continued, ‘The automatic system can only be overridden by two senior managers. The two-man rule works there too. Biometric data for your iris and palm. The entire complex can function with emergency generators, has its own water supply and filters the air. The excess pressure system protects against poisonous gases. The bunker is nuclear bombproof. With the best will in the world I can’t see any holes.’
‘Use your imagination, Dirk!’ Winter insisted.
Dirk opened his eyes and shook his head.
‘They’ve continually been improving the security system over the past ten years and closed every hole. You can’t mess that up in a minute.’ Looking around, Dirk pointed up at the cliff. ‘You’d have to take the whole mountain away. But the bunker was cut out of granite. An earthquake would have to have its epicentre right here,’ he said, pointing at the ground and ruffling his hair.
Winter gestured to hurry Dirk along.
‘A hurricane,’ Dirk joked. ‘Or how about an ice age. We could just freeze the entire thing.’ Winter still didn’t completely believe Dirk.
‘Bad joke.’
Joining them, Fatima said, ‘What’s up?’
Winter put her in the picture. ‘Dirk says that only an earthquake with its epicentre directly under the bunker could paralyse the servers. But you can’t order a natural catastrophe like that.’
‘Natural catastrophe? In Egypt we have sandstorms...’
‘A hurricane. I told you,’ Dirk interjected.
‘… and floods,’ Fatima continued. ‘Everything is dried out. As the rain falls it floods, taking everything with it. All of a sudden a wadi becomes a torrential river.’ She looked up the valley. ‘But what would happen if the dam broke and the reservoir inundated the valley here?’
Dirk shook his head. ‘Impossible. They’ve thought of that too. First, no dam like that has ever broken and second, the ventilation dampers would close automatically.’
Winter dismissed the idea of a flood and said, ‘We’re not getting anywhere here. Our best bet is to ask the CEO.’ He nodded to the bunker. ‘He’ll know how you could disrupt the plant.’
Dirk and Fatima exchanged glances and nodded. Both of them knew that once Winter had set his mind on something he was hard to deter.
They made their way through the throng to the bunker entrance, prised open the rusty door and hurried along the tunnel inside the mountain. The damp floor was slippery, and in their haste they kept sliding. They reached the visitors’ lounge again, where one of the guards was getting himself a coffee. Winter explained who they were and asked if they could see Herr Torhorst.
‘I’m sorry, but Herr Torhorst can’t see you at the moment.’ The guard looked nervous; his finger anxiously kept stroking the safety catch of his machine gun.
‘Then take us to the head of security,’ Winter insisted.
‘He can’t see you either.’
‘Why not?’
‘That’s confidential information.’ The finger twitched again.
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘That’s confidential information,’ the guard repeated.
‘You don’t know where your boss is, do you?’
‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to go back to the entrance and submit your request another time.’
The guard was playing strictly by the rules.
Winter looked at his watch. Three more hours till the New York Stock exchange opened. He went up to the guard, looked him in the eye and asked with a friendly smile, ‘Your weapon, please.’
Winter’s request took the guard completely by surprise.
He stared blankly at Winter until he realized that the short machine gun had been yanked from his hands. Winter engaged the safety catch and put a reassuring hand on the guard’s shoulder. ‘Keep calm. You’re not going to come to any harm. We suspect that an attack has been planned on the servers. So I’ll ask again. Where’s your CEO?’
For a moment the guard stared at his empty hands before dropping them and unintentionally brushing the holster with his pistol. Winter shook his head and could see the guard processing the risk analysis. After a few seconds the man dipped his head in resignation and crossed his arms.
Winter sighed and the guard said, ‘The boss and the head of technology have disappeared. I couldn’t find them just now.’
‘Take us to your boss’s office.’
They left the visitors’ lounge and hurried along a corridor with several doors. The guard unlocked a door to a small, functional office. ‘He’s here, normally.’ They looked around. Empty.
The guard opened a second door on the other side of the corridor. ‘That’s the head of technology’s office. He’s our head of security too and he’s not there either. Strange.’
‘Maybe they’re in the server rooms?’
‘No, nobody’s in the sterile areas at the moment. The technicians are in the staff room. Lunchbreak.’ They returned to the visitors’ lounge. Winter, Fatima, Dirk and the guard stood helplessly beside the coffee machines. The last time Winter had seen Baumgartner and Torhorst was by the door to the adjoining conference room. He tried the latch. Locked.
‘Open it!’ he ordered the guard, who grabbed his bunch of keys again and unlocked the door. Winter entered the conference room, furnished sparingly with a round table, six chairs, a white board and a cupboard. Glancing incidentally in the wastepaper basket he saw a cup half filled with brown liquid. Winter opened the cupboard.
‘Christ!’
Torhorst was lying on the floor of the cupboard.
Crooked.
His throat and carotid artery had been slit, his white shirt full of blood. Another suit ruined.
Where the eyes should have been were two dark, gaping holes. Someone had gouged out the eyeballs.
Winter instinctively took a step backwards.
Fatima, Dirk and the guard took sharp intakes of breath.
‘Call the police and sound the alarm!’
The guard started running.
A siren went off.
Winter crouched and examined Torhorst’s dead body again. On the metal floor of the cupboard was a pool of blood that had started to congeal. The CEO of Secer AG had been killed about an hour ago. And his right hand had been chopped off.
The hacker had obtained the biometric access data to Secer AG.
AUGUST 7 – 12:35
All hell was let loose inside the bunker. Service technicians in white overalls an
d guards scurried into the visitors’ lounge. Some thought this was a drill, others were scared. Those who’d been on night shift had been torn from their sleep and were rubbing their eyes in bewilderment. They were in frantic discussion and crowding around the conference room with Torhorst’s body.
A lean, grey-haired man took control and attempted to bring some order to the chaos. By the tone of his voice he must have been a sergeant. He ordered the guards to search every room, hand around gas masks and prepare the generators.
I’ve got to find Baumgartner, immediately! Winter thought.
Handing Dirk the machine gun, he abandoned him and Fatima and ran to the offices, passing more technicians on the way. He shook locked door handles. The first thing he needed was a telephone. The fourth door was unlocked.
A telephone stood on the desk, beside it rock samples. Maps hung on the walls. In one corner was a tripod with a half-covered surveying instrument. A geologist’s office. He sat and picked up the receiver. No dialling tone. He pressed zero. Still no dialling tone. Double zero. Wrong. Winter growled then, right under his nose, noticed a list of telephone numbers on the wall. You had to press * for a line. He called Meister’s number.
It took an age for his call to be answered. ‘Hello?’
‘This is Winter. Meister?’
‘Yes. May I ask where you’re calling from?’ The Secer AG telephone number from the former military bunker had clearly made Meister and his surveillance computers uneasy.‘From the Secer bunker. Someone here has slit the Secer CEO’s throat.’
‘Most disagreeable,’ Meister said impassively.
Ignoring the understatement, Winter said, ‘You have to pinpoint a telephone number for me right away.’
‘I’d need a court order for that.’ Meister was not the person who made the law but who implemented it in practice.
Winter knew that Meister knew that he knew.
‘Don’t give me that, Meister. We don’t have time. The man that number belongs to gave Anne the bomb and killed the CEO here.’
‘Interesting,’ Meister said dryly. ‘Which number?’
Winter gave him Baumgartner’s mobile number and a summary of Smith’s call. The Americans had probably warned him too. One hand washes the other.