by Bobby Akart
“Let me give you an update on our plans using Hexane’s cyber warfare experts. Their timetable has been set in place.”
“When?” asked Henry.
“They are coordinating the cyberattack with two specific public events being targeted. However, it’s the timing during the mass gatherings that is designed to incite panic. The real damage will be to the Americans’ psyche.”
Henry allowed himself a slight smile and took another sip of brandy. He was feeling better about the direction of their plans.
“You’ve referred to these cyber techniques as remarkably simple. To an old man like me, nothing is simple.”
Derek chuckled. “Our age is not that different. I just took it upon myself to learn and understand these cyber-intrusion tools.”
“Explain.”
“With the help of General Holzcraft, we’ve been made privy to the U.S. military’s own cyber warfare methods as well as the ones foreign entities have used against them. For years, Hexane has infected computers and servers around the world, waiting for just the opportune moment to deploy their weapons. Their methods vary from the shutdown of computer systems to the theft of data. We have the ability to hijack whole systems and operate them remotely as if they were our own.”
“Which do they plan to employ first?”
Derek explained in layman’s terms the best he could. “The first relies upon Hexane’s enormous database of user data resulting from spear-phishing. Phishing is spelled with the letters p-h instead of the letter f. Over time, and in preparation for this moment, Hexane has sent emails to specific, well-researched targets that, on their face, appear to be from a legitimate, trusted source. If the recipient of the email doesn’t examine it closely, they can be easily fooled.
“In some instances, the phishing attacks have infected computers systems with malicious software known as malware. Other times, the emails encouraged the recipient to divulge valuable information that enables the team at Hexane to use it at a later date.
“Spear-phishing refers to targeting specific email recipients who can provide us access to their computer systems. Because the campaign is targeted, the phony email can be personalized and appear far more sophisticated and realistic compared to some of the techniques used by amateurs.”
“Do you have the information you need to penetrate the systems Wagner and Hexane have identified to cause maximum damage?” asked Henry.
Derek nodded. “The municipal utilities we’ve identified are in high-profile locations. Keep in mind, these actions may not result in deaths initially. Our goal is the disruption of Americans’ everyday lives. To instill fear in families and businesses, which, in turn, sows distrust in their governments.”
“Can these cyberattacks be traced back to our people?”
Derek smiled. “That’s the beauty of it, Henry. They’ll never know from where or by whom. But they’ll certainly know when.”
Chapter Twelve
The Den
Fort Belvoir, Virginia
“Ghost, I feel like Knight Gruppe puts us a step closer to Odessa,” opined Gunner as he spoke in hushed tones outside Bianca’s building. While Cam and Bear attempted to pry more information out of her concerning a connection between her father and Knight Gruppe, Gunner brought the Gray Fox team up to speed.
Ghost agreed. “We have to think outside the box, here.” He cringed as soon as he made the statement. It was overused and he’d just committed the same offense. However, it was appropriate.
During Ghost’s brief pause, Jackal addressed Gunner using the speakerphone. “We have several of our analysts looking into their finances. I’ve never seen a firewall like this one. Make no mistake, given time, I can breach it.”
Gunner interrupted her. “We don’t have time! I can feel it!”
Jackal allowed Gunner to voice his frustration. “I get it. We all do. Listen, there is another way. Knight’s offices are in Austria.”
“Vienna?” asked Gunner. He’d been there before.
“That would be a logical assumption because it’s the largest city and known for its international corporate presence. But, no. Knight is located in Salzburg.”
Following World War I, Salzburg, a quaint city in Western Austria immediately adjacent to Germany, became a part of the First Austrian Republic. During the late 1930s when the Third Reich began to expand across parts of Europe, Austria was occupied and annexed as part of Adolf Hitler’s Anschluss initiative. The idyllic city set at the northern boundary of the Alps endured Nazi occupation until late in the war when American troops entered the city and liberated the Austrian people.
“Is there a connection of any kind between Salzburg and Odessa?” asked Gunner before he qualified his question. “I’m referring to the period at the end of the war. Ratlines, etcetera?”
“Just a moment,” said Jackal, who could be heard pounding away on her keyboard.
As she did, Ghost interjected a question. “Is there anything else you need to extract out of the girl or her grandfather? Will she help you contact her father?”
“I believe she knows very little about this,” Gunner replied. “Honestly, I wish there had been a way not to involve her in our trip to the Vatican, but we could never have gotten as far as we did without her. Now, she wants to be extraordinarily helpful, but, Ghost, this is not her fight. She’s bored and sees this as exciting and different.”
“Sirs?” Jackal asked to interrupt by referring to the two leaders of Gray Fox in plural. “I’ve got a couple of things.”
Ghost stepped away from his desk and gestured for Jackal to move the phone closer to her chair.
“First, Salzburg was referred to by the Nazis as the Stadt der Lebensforschung, meaning the City of Life Sciences. Hitler was known for bestowing honorary titles upon cities within the Reich. Nearby Munich, for example, was named the Capital of the Movement. An SS Obersturmbannfuhrer by the name of Paul Tratz was given an SS skull ring by Himmler. Historians like Professor Kala Bale have tied him to the sarin development.”
Ghost stepped forward. “What happened to him?”
“He lived for many years in Salzburg, even receiving an honorary doctorate from the university there before he died in the seventies.”
Gunner understood Ghost’s reason for asking. “It seems these people are all about symbolism and maintaining some ties to the Third Reich without giving away their lineage.”
“He’s right,” said Ghost. “From what we’ve learned about Knight Gruppe, their business dealings seem to be anywhere but Austria and Germany. Yet, depending on their agenda and geopolitical goals, they still maintain ties in, or very close to, Germany.”
“Which leads me to my second point,” interjected Jackal. “I will continue to work on getting around their firewall, but I’ll be honest, it’s going to take some time. We can learn more about these people by getting on the inside.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ghost.
She spun her laptop around so he could see the screen. The Knight Gruppe AG website was open and she’d navigated to the News tab.
“Bilderbergs,” muttered Ghost.
“Seriously?” asked Gunner. “Are these people in bed with the Bilderberg Group?”
Jackal relayed to him what appeared on the Knight webpage. “They’re hosting the annual meeting at Hohenwerfen Castle near Salzburg. Every developed nation sends their politicians, corporate and financial leaders, academics, and media there to rub elbows and exchange ideas. It’s a small core group of about one hundred fifty.”
“How does this help us?” asked Ghost.
“I need access to their servers, whether by hook or by crook, as they say.”
“Speak English, please,” demanded Ghost.
“If I can get Gunner and Cam into the meeting, they might be able to get close to a Knight Gruppe executive.”
“And I can extract the password from them?” asked Gunner. “I still have a syringe of SP-117.”
“You do?” asked Ghost. “H
ow did you get the girl to cooperate without it?”
“I deployed a charm offensive,” said Gunner with a smile.
Suddenly, one of the analysts burst into Ghost’s office without knocking.
“Sir, my apologies. They’re about to have company. Lots of it!”
Chapter Thirteen
Rome, Italy
Gunner turned in all directions. His senses became hyperaware of his surroundings as he took in every vehicle, every pedestrian, and even the sounds of Rome to determine if anything had abruptly changed. The busy street, full of locals and tourists alike, seemed to move in slow motion. The surreal change came about as Gunner realized the walls were closing in. Not the grand, elegant architecture of Rome. Rather, it was the feeling a lion has when surrounded by a pack of hyenas on the African savanna.
“Gotta run, guys. Text me extraction information. I’d guess the CIA hangar is being watched.”
“I’ll let you know,” replied Jackal although Gunner had already disconnected the call.
He raced up the steps into Bianca’s building, shoving his way past the doorman and the single guard who’d been observing him during his phone call. Once inside the building, he ignored the mistrustful look given by the concierge and rushed past two tenants to reach the bank of elevators. He pressed the button rapidly, urging the elevator cab to respond.
“Come on. Come on,” he said under his breath as he nervously looked back toward the entry doors to the residential building. Outside, two men, dressed in casual wear but with light jackets on, completely out of place for the time of year, milled about, making casual conversation with the building’s doorman.
The door finally opened, and Gunner impatiently stood to the side as an elderly couple slowly exited the elevator. Half a minute later, he was racing into the hallway on Bianca’s floor. As he turned the corner in the hallway leading to her apartment, he ran directly into the chest of Bear.
“Jesus, Bear!”
“Hey,” the big man responded in his deep voice. “Cam’s on the phone with the Den. We’ve got trouble comin’.”
Gunner slapped Bear on the shoulder and walked briskly down the hallway by his friend’s side. “They’re here. Outside the building. We’ve gotta find another way—”
Before he could finish his sentence, both Cam and Bianca rushed out of the apartment and pulled the door closed behind them.
“I just got a call from downstairs,” said the beautiful Italian who’d been so helpful. “There are two men who are asking for me. They claim to be Carabinieri.” The Carabinieri was Italy’s main law enforcement agency.
“I doubt that,” said Bear.
Gunner looked up and down the hallway. He approached Bianca. “Where’s the stairwell?”
“We have a better idea,” interjected Cam. “There’s an external fire escape that actually connects to the adjacent building from the roof.” She pointed toward the end of the hall to an unmarked door.
“Let’s go,” said Gunner.
Bianca didn’t move. “No. Not me. I will talk with them.”
“What? No,” objected Gunner. “These men are not police. They are probably here to kill us.”
“They will not kill me, and the building security will protect me from them.”
“I don’t know about this, boss,” said Bear.
Bianca insisted. “I will be fine, but I must warn you of something. To protect myself, I may have to, um, as you Americans say, throw you under l’autobus.”
Gunner let out a hearty laugh. He genuinely liked La Bambolina, not just because of her good looks. But because she was willing to help them and had shown loyalty to the strangers who invaded her posh life.
“I understand,” said Gunner as he reached out for her hand. “Don’t give them too much, okay. And protect your grandfather.”
Cam added, “No names. Right, Bianca?”
“Only Henry Sargent,” she replied, remembering that was the name Gunner had provided to the Vatican security personnel.
The elevator emitted a creaking sound as its old, unoiled cables grated against rusty internal parts. The car was coming, and the Gray Fox team needed to go.
Gunner spontaneously kissed Bianca, and the two shared a longing look. “Thank you.” His words were simple but heartfelt.
In response, she gave him a smile and mouthed the words call me. Gunner wondered if he’d ever get that chance or if he even should.
“Let’s go,” insisted Cam, who was already at the exit door.
Bear and Gunner ran down the hallway, and in seconds, they’d disappeared into the windowless stairwell that led to the ground floor as well as the rooftop of the two-hundred-year-old building.
The three operatives emerged on the roof and wandered around the lightly graveled flat surface in search of the fire escape. While Cam and Bear searched, Gunner ran to the front of the building and slowly peered over the short parapet wall to observe the activity below. There were several men, all unremarkable and featureless. Their appearance screamed undercover operative.
Two Land Rover Defenders were parked haphazardly in the street, blocking traffic to an extent. The beefy trucks were out of place for a city that was inundated with tiny Fiat Pandas and Lancia Ypsilons.
“Gunner! Over here!” shouted Cam from the back corner of the building.
He rushed toward them, and when he arrived, Bear stood with his arms folded, shaking his head side to side.
“This big old Texan ain’t gonna make it, boss.”
Gunner grabbed the two rusted handlebars that stretched over the side of the half-wall. They led into a twenty-step caged walk-through, a fixed-access ladder that was enclosed by flat-steel side rails. He studied the width of the cage and turned to assess the broadness of Bear’s shoulders. It was gonna be tight.
He looked down the side of the building to the platform where the walk-through terminated. Affixed to the wall was a ladder that acted like a Murphy bed, only it was a bridge to a similar platform attached to the adjacent building.
He turned to Bear. “Try it.”
“Hell, damn, nah!” he groaned. “I’ll get stuck.”
“No, you won’t, big baby,” chastised Cam. “Get goin’.”
“Not gonna happen,” said Bear. He was adamant.
Gunner looked down the ladder-chute again. Bear was nervously sweating. Gunner wasn’t sure if the big guy could make it through, but there wasn’t a viable alternative. He issued his orders.
“Cam, you first. Get to the platform and release the ladder so it connects across the way. Bear, take off your shirt.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Strip and then take some of that sweat and lube up your shoulders. I think you can shimmy through.”
“C’mon, Gunner. Let me go through the front door. I’ll distract them.”
Gunner glanced back toward the door exiting onto the rooftop. They needed to hurry, as the faux Carabinieri would be searching the building for them.
“I’ll push you if necessary. Move it, airman.”
Cam laughed as she hoisted herself over the parapet and began climbing down the walk-through ladder with ease. Seconds later she dropped herself to the landing and studied the alleyway below. She unlatched the ladder affixed to the outside of the building and, using a chain, slowly lowered it to the residential structure across the alley.
“We’re good!” she shouted up to the guys.
Bear dutifully removed his shirt. His muscles glistened with sweat from his climb up the emergency stairwell. As Gunner suggested, he used both his hands to wipe the sweat off his face onto his shoulders and upper arms.
“Shimmy?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.
“Yep. Shimmy.”
Bear lifted himself over the wall and slowly lowered himself inside the cage-like structure. He’d descended four rungs of the ladder before his shoulders first met resistance. Gunner watched in amusement as the big man twisted his upper body slightly. Bear would wince as the
steel supports pinched his skin and muscles, but with a little effort, he slipped down to the next rung. And the next. And the next until he’d reached the platform next to Cam.
A minute later, the trio carefully made their way across the safety catwalk to the other building and disappeared through an emergency door.
They’d escaped. For the moment.
Chapter Fourteen
Rome, Italy
Gunner had connected his cell phone to the CIA vehicle’s Bluetooth system so the Den could be heard through the car’s sound system. The trio had separated as they exited the building and met up in the alley behind it. Out of breath from walking briskly and anxious from the feeling they were being converged upon by unknown assailants, the Gray Fox team sought a way out of Rome.
“Talk to me, Jackal.” Bear’s voice boomed inside the sedan.
“Working on it,” she replied calmly.
Bear turned toward Gunner. “I’m not gonna just sit here.”
Jackal interrupted. “Okay. Okay. I hear you. I’m gonna route you toward the beach.”
Bear rolled his eyes and shook his head. “The beach? How about an airport? Or the embassy?”
“Too obvi,” she replied. “We have to get you to Austria by early afternoon.”
“What’s in Austria?” asked Cam.
“Knight Gruppe’s hosting the Bilderberg conference starting tomorrow night. You and Gunner are going.”
Bear started the car and slowly eased out of the alley until he reached the street. “Where am I headed?”
“South, for now,” Jackal replied. “Precise location is TBD.”
Bear groaned and shook his head. He wheeled the sedan onto the street and drove behind a taxi past the street leading to Bianca’s flat. Both Gunner and Cam stared at the activity outside in front of her building. There were no marked vehicles from any of Italy’s law enforcement. The first two black Land Rover Defenders had been joined by a third.