by Bobby Akart
He led her away from the bar, and the two of them continued to stroll amongst the guests. He nodded or nudged her as they walked past one of the Knight Gruppe corporate executives. Toward the end of their walk around the perimeter of the Bilderbergers getting reacquainted with one another, he stopped to join a conversation with his counterpart from the German embassy.
The two men spoke in German, and Cam feigned a lack of understanding of the language. She was able to translate conversational German better than she was able to speak it.
Suddenly, a man inched up behind her, catching her off guard. His German accent was heavy, but his English was perfect.
“I’ve been watching you,” he said in a deep, breathy voice. “Your escort is falling in love with you by the minute even though you’ve just met.”
Cam steeled her nerves. Had she been discovered? Was their cover blown before they got started? Her mind raced as she tried to remember where she’d last seen Gunner. Would he be able to do anything to prevent her from being exposed?
Without turning, she decided to play along. She exposed her neck slightly as the man towered over her right shoulder.
“What can I say? I’m like a magnet to most men.”
“A love magnet?” He was taking flirting to another level at lightning speed.
She finally turned and looked up to the six-foot-four, silver-haired man who’d approached her. He was about the same age as the ambassador’s chief of staff but lent the appearance of a Greek god. However, his facial features were unmistakable. It was Johan Kutcher. The target had Cam in his sights.
Chapter Twenty
Hohenwerfen Castle
Salzburg, Austria
“Maybe,” she replied shyly. “Can you rescue me?” Like Gunner, Cam was used to defeating her adversaries with her superior battle skills learned from Ghost and honed on countless missions around the world. This was different. It was like acting, only it had a sinister motive. Much like a black widow sucks the life out of her male conquest, oftentimes killing him after getting what she wants, Cam was prepared to lead the CFO of Knight Gruppe into a false sense of security until she obtained access to the company’s computer servers.
Kutcher turned on the charm, something that came naturally to the handsome Bavarian. “This is a castle, and you’re clearly a damsel in distress. Let me show you around.”
He set his hand on the small of her back and nudged her away from the group. Cam allowed him to lower his hands more as the sexually aggressive man made no attempt to hide his intentions. She took a deep breath and allowed him to overstep, knowing she’d have the final say about the direction of their encounter.
As they entered the medieval rock castle, Gunner appeared in the shadows of a hallway to Cam’s right. He’d been observing her in the courtyard and took up a position inside, as he anticipated her escort’s objective to be alone with Cam.
Cam made small talk as Kutcher led her through the open entry. “Is it true this castle was in a movie?”
“Very good,” he replied. “An American classic—Where Eagles Dare. It starred Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. Pure fiction and not very accurate, I might add.”
“Oh?” Cam feigned surprise. Naturally, she expected the Bavarian who worked for the remnants of the Nazi Party to take issue with a movie production of a fictional event in which the Nazis got their butts kicked.
While he explained his reasoning, he pointed out features of the castle. As he spoke, he underhandedly led her deeper into the former fortress. Eventually, with a nod of the head from a member of Knight’s security team, he was granted access to parts of the castle off-limits to the attendees and their guests. At this point, Cam expected she was on her own with her target.
They wandered through the dark, damp hallways until they arrived at a massive spiral staircase that led upward through a tower and downward into a dimly lit, cavernous space she could barely see.
“In the dungeon, you’ll find historic artifacts, including armored suits, medieval weapons, and tools of torture.”
Cam was at a point of no return. Kutcher was a big muscular man. It would be impossible to overpower him. She’d only have one opportunity to make her move, and there would be nobody to call out to for help. She steeled her nerves and made a decision.
“Show me,” she said as she looked up into his crystal blue eyes.
Kutcher smiled and took her by the hand. Step by step, her heels clicking on the stone stairs, they wound their way down to the dungeon, which was illuminated by gas lanterns mounted on the wall. The orangish flame created odd shadows throughout the space as the two of them walked slowly toward an exhibit of medieval weapons.
Cam’s eyes darted around the tables and display cabinets showing the weapons of war used a thousand years ago. She wondered if she’d be able to access them if she had to fight her target.
Suddenly, he turned around and grasped her shoulders. “Stop teasing me.”
He moved in to kiss her and dropped his hands to grope her breasts. Cam responded by running her hands down his chest, over his crotch, and then she reached the slit in her evening gown. While he aggressively kissed her, she reached inside her dress, ran her hands up her thigh, and found the syringe of SP-117 taped between her legs. She slowly withdrew the syringe, ran her arm up Kutcher’s side, and then plunged it into his neck, quickly filling his veins with the powerful Russian-made truth serum.
“What? Bitch!” he bellowed, immediately causing Cam concern that they’d be discovered.
Kutcher slung Cam to the stone floor and reached for his neck. He was incensed, but he didn’t shout out. Instead, his anger grew as he towered over Cam, who was pushing herself away from him.
Now seconds mattered. The intravenous dose had both a hypnotic element as well as a sedative aspect because of the barbiturates added to the formula. It would work quickly, but Cam needed to buy some time before the powerful man could beat her senseless.
She kicked off her high-heeled shoes and scrambled to her feet. “Wait, you don’t understand. You’re going to like this. Trust me.”
“Shut up!” he shouted as he drunkenly lunged for her. Cam easily sidestepped his advance.
“No, let it soak in. You have no idea how this will make you feel.”
He chased after her. She backpedaled and then slid under the exhibit’s velvet rope used to cordon off the torture chamber tools and an Austrian ladder, a vertically oriented rack used to stretch victims.
Kutcher stumbled through the posts and rope until he lost his balance. He crashed into a display cabinet, breaking the wooden shelves and causing the iron tools to come crashing out.
Cam grew nervous that the clamor would attract attention from those above. She needed the drug to take effect so she could get the information she needed.
It had been a minute, and the barbiturates began to win the battle against Kutcher’s adrenaline-fueled attempt to fight the drug. Now she was at the critical stage where she needed to extract the information from the mostly subdued target before he passed out. Ordinarily, the interrogation would take place with the target restrained. Cam studied the Austrian ladder and then turned her attention to Kutcher. He’d given up the fight and was now in a state of euphoria as the drug took ahold of his mind.
“Come on, big boy. Let’s get you more comfortable.”
She helped him to his feet and then pushed him back against the rack ladder. She removed his tie, bound his wrists over his head, and tied him to one of the rungs. Then she quickly ripped open his tuxedo shirt, exposing his bare chest. Finally, with a devilish grin, she loosened his pants and pulled them down around his knees. He would be completely exposed to anyone who happened to come upon him while he was in a deep sleep.
Then she slapped him. Hard. Just to keep him awake, or that was what she told herself, anyway.
Oddly, Kutcher laughed.
“Freak,” mumbled Cam as she fumbled through his pockets in search of his wallet, identification, and access car
ds to the Knight Gruppe offices. After she found his magnetic pass card and company-issued identification, she slapped him playfully on his bare stomach. “Are you still with me, big boy?”
“Jawohl!” he replied enthusiastically.
“Good. It’s time for the Q and A portion of the show.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Hohenwerfen Castle
Salzburg, Austria
Cam slapped his face again as Kutcher began to doze off. “Wakey-wakey, asshole. This won’t take long.”
“Later. Must sleep.”
Cam laughed as she slapped him again. “Your manhood says otherwise, pal. Now, tell me how you access your financial and employment records.”
“Not now,” he mumbled.
Another slap. Harder this time. Cam turned around to ensure it wasn’t heard by anyone.
“Yes, now. Username and password. Macht schnell!”
“H. Schacht.”
“What does that mean?” asked Cam.
“Reichminister of Finance. Hjalmar Schacht.”
“Password, bitte.” Cam was adding a few German words to the near-incoherent Kutcher.
“Farben26.”
Cam was unaware that Schacht was the currency commissioner of the Weimar Republic and had been instrumental in funding the famed German company IG Farben. Still, she was able to remember the name.
Kutcher was fading.
“I need access to Knight Gruppe’s corporate servers. Where are they?”
“Basement. Level six. Osten.”
Cam repeated his words. “Basement, level six, east. Is that correct?”
“Jetzt schlafe ich, ja?” Let me sleep, okay?
Cam understood the word for sleep and saw Kutcher’s eyes close once again. She pinched him awake. His eyes popped open and darted around the room. This reaction was different from his prior attempts to remain coherent. She became concerned the drug was wearing off.
“How do I access the server room?”
Kutcher raised his right arm slightly as if to give her a thumbs-up.
“Thumbprint? Biometric lock?”
He nodded his head.
“Shit!” she exclaimed a little louder than she wanted to. Her head snapped toward the sweeping staircase for what seemed like the hundredth time. She took a deep breath and forced herself to accept what she needed to do.
She unlatched a section of velvet rope and returned to Kutcher. She wrapped it around his face and through his mouth, hoping to stifle the scream he’d most likely let out when she severed his right thumb from his hand. SP-117 contained just enough of a barbiturate to cause drowsiness. It couldn’t make him comatose.
Cam struggled with the rope and realized the knot wouldn’t hold. As he grew drowsier, his body began to slump on the rack, and she questioned whether the man’s necktie would hold him in place.
She sighed. She made her way to the display cabinet where the torture tools had been dislodged from their shelves.
Cam was angry over this course of events. She liked clean kills. This would be anything but. It would be barbaric.
The exhibit contained spikes, hammers, and a variety of plier-like tools. She grabbed a spike and a hammer and approached the passed-out target. She set the spike against his heart and took aim with the iron hammer. She drew it back, and then … she stopped.
She couldn’t do it. Cam would give anything in that moment for a gun. Or a knife. Or a syringe full of thallium, another deadly poison employed by Moscow.
Cam angrily slung the tools to the ground. She removed his socks and crammed them into his mouth. She retrieved his cummerbund off the floor and tied it across his face. Kutcher’s breathing was labored, but he wouldn’t suffocate.
Lastly, she did what absolutely needed to be done. She used a large scissorlike tool that was sharp enough to get the job done. After five attempts, she cut through the bone and removed the thumb of Kutcher, who slept through the entire ordeal.
Cam dropped the syringe through a drainage grate near the stairwell, gathered her shoes, and secured Kutcher’s thumb in the toe of one of them. Kutcher’s identification and access card were shoved into the other.
She mussed her hair and forced her face to flush so she lent the appearance of a young woman who’d just had a quickie in a dark, secluded part of the castle.
The ruse worked when she walked past the two security personnel who’d granted Kutcher access earlier. They shot her a knowing grin and nodded to her with a wink. She smiled in return and quickly made her way barefoot through the passageways, where she ran into Gunner waiting in the shadows.
“We’re not gonna have much time,” she said. “We need to leave now.”
Gunner took her by the arm and led her down a hallway toward the facility’s kitchen. He’d already confirmed there were no guards preventing the waitstaff from coming and going to the reception area.
“Are you okay?” he whispered to her as they briskly walked through the busy kitchen.
“Yeah. I got lucky.”
“Really?” said Gunner sarcastically. “He was a handsome one.”
“Shut up,” she admonished her friend. “Don’t make me pull out his thumb to show how unlucky he was.”
“Thumb?”
“Yup. The key to the kingdom.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hexane Headquarters
Berlin, Germany
Sardar Azmoun entered the room without fanfare, but the entire group of hackers on this important project clearly understood who’d developed the tools necessary for the operation. His superior, in name only, nodded to the young man as he took his seat at a center console surrounded by the other hackers. It was time.
“Guten abend,” said the project director handpicked by Daniel Wagner.
The evening session was designed to catch America’s first responders off guard by striking in the early morning hours. Ordinarily, Hexane was left to its own devices. Their mysterious company’s overall directive was clear. Gather information. Monitor Odessa assets. Wreak havoc on their adversaries in the cyber world.
He continued. “I am bringing others into the room via teleconference. You will not address them unless spoken to. Understood?”
A handful of the hackers voiced their acknowledgment. As a rule, they didn’t like being told what to do. Each of them had a rebellious streak by nature, one that others within Hexane closely monitored. It was not unusual for a hacker to disappear from the employment roster without explanation or warning. You never left Hexane of your own free will. You were privy to Odessa’s secrets. Those who tried vanished without a trace.
The project director confirmed that Daniel Wagner and Derek Gruber were connected although he never referenced them by name. Then he summarized the team’s goals for the day.
“For years, we have been conducting penetration testing into various utilities in the United States, ranging from nuclear facilities down to small municipal water companies. Through our efforts of password spraying and brute-force attacks designed to compromise email accounts, we’ve been able to gain access to the targeted utilities. As their servers are updated, our copy of their data is updated. We’ve lurked in the shadows of their hard drives, waiting for the time to strike. Now is that time.
“For the benefit of our guests, I would like to introduce Mr. Azmoun, who will provide additional detail.” The project director motioned for Azmoun to begin.
“Using the spear-phishing emails, we installed a remote access trojan via DanBot, a malicious code inserted into Microsoft Excel spreadsheets and Word docs. In addition, a config file known as RDCMan enables us to gain remote connection to administrative computer desktops at the utility.
“These techniques are quite effective at achieving our objective. They rely on common macros and the ability to overcome the widely used security frameworks adopted by government-related IT professionals.
“As a result, we have accessed the industrial control systems and operational technology environments of
every sector of America’s critical infrastructure.”
Daniel Wagner spoke for the first time. “Hexane provided us a list of the most viable targets. We have identified two for this initial phase. Are you still able to do as we requested?”
“Yes,” replied the project director. “We are ready to initiate the two operations now.”
“Good, please proceed, but describe the steps you are taking,” said Wagner.
“Yes, sir,” said the project director. “Our electrical utility target is DTE located in Detroit, Wayne County, Michigan. This city is ranked by most insurance actuarial data as the most fire-prone in the United States. There are several reasons for this, ranging from inadequate fire-suppression systems in place to the citizenry’s propensity to commit arson.
“For years many parts of the city battled out-of-control structure fires because of arsonist activity on what is known as Devil’s Night, the evening before Halloween, when vandals purposefully set fires. As a result, insurance companies created a fire-risk map that we have at our disposal.
“Our goal for this first phase is to create a dangerous overload of DTE’s substations to the point of triggering both a citywide power outage but also a corresponding fire risk. I will have Mr. Azmoun explain.”
Azmoun was typing at his keyboard as he spoke. “We have identified several points of entry into the network of Detroit Energy. Using Triton malware, first used to disable Saudi Arabian oil refinery safety instrument systems, we are going to disable or confuse the computers that monitor for leaks, explosions, or other catastrophic events during a massive power surge.
“The process can be viewed as a combination of knocking on the doors of the company’s computer operations facility and trying all the doorknobs until one opens. We have done that, and our team has taken over the DTE network with full access to its most sensitive industrial control protocols.”