Quantum

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Quantum Page 14

by Tom Grace


  Grin watched as a graphical depiction of the affected computers appeared on his screen. From MARC, the trail led back to the Preservation Lab server on campus, through the university’s central server, and then out into the world.

  ‘You may be good,’ Grin said with grudging admiration, ‘but your ass is mine.’

  System by system, Spyder followed the hacker’s electronic trail, identifying each step along the way. The hacker had covered his tracks well, snaking his way through dozens of Internet servers to create a labyrinthine trail that was nearly impossible to follow.

  Grin reset the window view from a schematic line drawing of the hacker’s route to one superimposed over a map of the earth. The hacker blazed an impressive path across the globe, even managing to penetrate a Web server at a research station in Antarctica. Ten minutes later the trail reached Moscow.

  ‘Say cheese, you asshole,’ Grin said, knowing he’d nailed the malevolent intruder.

  The map of the world faded and was replaced by the image of a black IBM server tower. Just as the window containing the machine’s schematics and serial numbers started to appear, the window went blank.

  ‘What the fuck do you mean the connection has been lost?’ Grin screamed as the Spyder reported its status.

  Grin instructed the Spyder to show him a network diagnostic. A graphic depiction of the MARC network appeared, followed by one of the university’s network. The Spyder showed him every machine it could touch. Both networks appeared fine, except for the hole in the picture where Grin knew the Preservation Lab server should be. The server was physically in the basement of the Harlan Hatcher Graduate Library on main campus but, from Grin’s point of view, it was gone.

  31

  JULY 26

  Ann Arbor, Michigan

  Leskov looked down at the broken remains of the beige network server, its thin metal shell stripped open to reveal the delicate circuitry. Five minutes into their assault of the Preservation Lab, he’d received a panicky report from Orlov’s electronics group in Moscow about some difficulty they were experiencing with the MARC network. Apparently, their attempt to penetrate that network had met with an effective resistance and retaliation. Leskov answered their request to break the connection by destroying the lab’s network server.

  ‘Moscow confirms that contact with the MARC network has been terminated,’ the young man in charge of communications reported.

  ‘Obviously, Misha,’ Leskov said, laughing. Although his solution to the possible security breach might be considered crude, it was decidedly effective. ‘Hand me the magnet.’

  Misha, a lanky twenty-five-year-old with ice-blue eyes, slipped the backpack off his shoulders and extracted the electromagnet.

  Leskov kicked several pieces of broken plastic away from the exposed metal supports to reveal the server’s stack of hard drives. He flipped the switch on the powerful magnet and began slowly waving it over the stack. A strong electromagnetic field bathed each of the sealed drives, obliterating the organized patterns of information stored on the thin disks within. In seconds, the drive stack was wiped clean.

  From the rear of the lab, Josef, the thickset Georgian who’d been part of the team that struck Sandstrom’s lab a month earlier, walked quickly toward Leskov.

  ‘I have the notebooks,’ Josef said as he zipped his backpack closed and slipped it over his shoulder. ‘The technician was very helpful.’

  Leskov glanced back at the small room that Josef had just left and saw a pair of legs lying on the floor. The technician was either unconscious or dead. Leskov checked his watch – in a few minutes he would know for certain.

  ‘Time, everyone.’

  Josef and two other men, Kiril and Grigori, moved out into the hallway where Evgenii, the point man, stood watch.

  ‘Burn it.’

  Misha nodded, held out a plastic squeeze bottle, and squirted a clear golden fluid throughout the room. When he reached the door, he capped the bottle and slid it into his pack.

  ‘Ready,’ Misha announced.

  Everyone backed away from the door as Misha, using a handheld spark igniter, set a nearby puddle of the fluid aflame.

  32

  JULY 26

  Ann Arbor, Michigan

  As he reread the message that the Preservation Lab server was off-line, Grin remembered that Nolan was in town with Kelsey at the Art Fair. Two of the annual fair’s three venues bordered the university’s main campus and were a short walk from the lab. Grin punched in the number of Kilkenny’s phone.

  ‘Kilkenny here.’

  ‘Yo, Nolan. It’s Grin. Something bad is happening down at the lab where they’re keeping those notebooks.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I was just loggin’ on to download the latest pages and I waltzed right into someone swiping the Wolff directory. I tried to grab what was left, but they locked me out. When I called the Preservation Lab to find out what was happening, the phone line went nuts. Then somebody tried to take a run at my machines.’

  ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Yeah. The Spyder slammed the door, then went after ’em, but that’s why I think you need to check on the lab. I was just about to nail the hacker when the lab’s server went off-line. I got a funny feeling about this. I think somebody’s trying to ace us out of those notebooks. Are you anywhere near the Grad Library?’

  ‘Kelsey and I are down near West Engineering. We’ll head over and take a look.’

  Nolan ended the call and located Kelsey at a nearby booth haggling with an artisan over an inlaid wooden box.

  ‘We’ll have to come back,’ Nolan announced as he put his arm around Kelsey’s shoulders, guiding her away from the booth.

  ‘What’s going on? Who was that on the phone?’ The words raced out of Kelsey’s mouth.

  ‘Grin. We need to check on the Preservation Lab, right now. It looks like somebody’s after Wolff’s notebooks.’

  They moved as quickly as they could through the crowd and passed through the West Engineering arch into the Diag. To their right was the fenced-off pit where Johann Wolff’s body had been discovered. They broke into a run, weaving their way through the crowd toward the Diag. Ahead stood the Harlan Hatcher Graduate Library.

  Kelsey followed Nolan up the granite staircase to the portico of the library. A welcome rush of cool air greeted them as they passed through the bronze-and-glass doors into the building’s ornate vestibule.

  Moving quickly, they reached the far end and turned the corner into a side hall where the elevators and the basement stairs were located. They noticed one of the old elevators preparing to descend and slipped through its closing doors.

  A moment later they exited the elevator car into the basement lobby, followed by a librarian carrying a small stack of books. The footsteps of several people quickly climbing up the wide staircase echoed off the marble treads and smooth plaster walls.

  ‘It’s around the corner,’ Nolan directed as he ran toward the Preservation Lab.

  Nolan saw that the hallway was empty, which wasn’t unusual during summer months and almost expected for a building surrounded by the madness of the Art Fair. Then he noticed the temperature rising around them.

  He signaled for Kelsey to hang back and carefully approached the lab. As Nolan reached out to place his palm against the door, the frosted-glass sidelight erupted from its frame, expelled by a shock wave of superheated gas. The shattered pane narrowly missed Nolan as it hurtled down the corridor, its imbedded wire mesh barely keeping the hundreds of pebble-sized fragments together. A second explosion thundered from the lab as containers of volatile chemicals exploded in the heat.

  ‘Let’s get the hell out of here!’ Nolan shouted.

  Kelsey was halfway down the corridor before the words were out of Nolan’s mouth, and he was just a few steps behind her.

  33

  JULY 26

  Ann Arbor, Michigan

  Quickly making their way to the main floor, Nolan and Kelsey rounded the cor
ner into the vestibule and raced out through the front doors. As they reached the top of the steps, Kelsey looked down into the crowd on the Diag. Below, in the mass of people who now stood bewildered as the library burned, she noticed a group of men forcefully working their way through the crowd. In the middle of the group, one of the men quickly glanced back at the burning building.

  ‘Nolan, over there!’ Kelsey shouted, her voice full of surprise and anger. ‘That’s one of the movers.’

  Nolan immediately shifted his gaze to where Kelsey pointed. The taut, muscular men stood out from the crowd like a team of athletes walking among the fans. They carried themselves differently than normal people, their posture and movement the result of skillful training.

  ‘I got ’em, Kelsey. Looks like a six-man unit in a close formation. You’re right about the tall blond one in the middle. The big guy in front of him was there, too. Come on.’

  As they stepped down into the crowd, Nolan keyed through his phone’s memory and selected a number.

  ‘Major Crimes Unit, Detective Ptashnik.’

  ‘Nolan Kilkenny here. The Preservation Lab where Johann Wolff’s notebooks are being stored is on fire. Anyone who was inside is probably dead. I’m on the Diag headed toward the intersection of State and North University. About fifty yards in front of me is a group of six men who I believe are responsible for the fire. All are probable ex-Russian Special Forces. Two of them are wanted for murder, theft, and arson in Indiana. You need to get some cops down here ASAP.’

  ‘Shit. You sure about this, Kilkenny?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘All right, I’ll put the word out and get a car’ – Ptashnik paused – ‘fuck, the streets are blocked off for Art Fair. I’ll get the foot patrols moving to your location. What’s your number?’

  Nolan carefully recited his phone number.

  ‘I’ll call you as soon as I get something moving on this end. Where are the suspects at now?’

  ‘They’re crossing State, looks like they’re heading into Nickels Arcade.’

  ‘Keep an eye on ’em. I’ll call back in a minute.’

  34

  JULY 26

  Ann Arbor, Michigan

  Leskov heard the sound of approaching sirens and instantly knew that firefighters were en route to the burning building. He scanned the crowded plaza; people were starting to edge away from the library as clouds of thick black smoke roiled upward. Bright orange-yellow flames danced at the base of the smoky column. The accelerant had completely engulfed the lab in seconds. The firefighters didn’t know it, but soon there would be nothing left for them to salvage.

  ‘Misha, where is rendezvous?’

  ‘The driver reports very heavy traffic, as expected, Dmitri. An accident is causing problems at the primary pickup site. He suggests we meet at the backup location.’

  ‘Approved,’ Leskov said. ‘Evgenii, take us to the backup site.’

  ‘Da, Dmitri,’ the point man replied.

  The Russians waded through the audience gathered around a quartet of Peruvian musicians. Leskov smiled; the crowded streets were the ideal place for him and his men to disappear.

  Evgenii led the way across State Street toward Nickels Arcade, a two-story glass-roofed gateway of small shops that bisected the long block of continuous storefronts.

  The phone purred in Nolan’s hand.

  ‘Kilkenny,’ he answered.

  ‘It’s Ptashnik. I’ve got you on a speakerphone so we can relay information to the cops on the street. Where are you?’

  ‘We just crossed State and are moving toward Nickels Arcade.’

  ‘Understood. I want you to stay out of sight – do not let these guys see you following them. They’ll bolt or worse. There’s a pair of uniformed officers on Washington moving toward Maynard. What do these guys look like?’

  Nolan described each of the men as best he could. As he spoke, someone in the background on the other end of the line parroted what he’d said.

  ‘Got it. Our patrol has spotted your Russians just exiting the arcade.’

  ‘That’s them,’ Nolan confirmed.

  From where they stood, Nolan and Kelsey saw the six men leave the arcade onto Maynard Street. An earful of static told Nolan their signal was fading as he and Kelsey moved deeper into the arcade.

  ‘I’m losing you,’ Nolan hollered, hoping the detective could still hear him. ‘Call me in a minute.’

  The connection was gone.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Fear resonated in Kelsey’s voice.

  ‘Two cops on Maynard have spotted the Russians. I just hope to God they hang back until they can get these guys in the clear, or we are going to have a genuine, grade-A clusterfuck. Look at all these people – nothing but shields and hostages.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Kelsey’s fear grew stronger.

  ‘The tactical situation here is completely skewed in their favor,’ Nolan continued. ‘What we need is a handful of two-man teams on the ground, roving in the crowd, and a sniper team up above if we’re to have any chance of taking some of those men alive without killing a lot of bystanders.’

  ‘Dmitri,’ Josef said in a low voice. ‘Police.’

  Leskov looked to the left. About twenty feet back, two uniformed police officers carefully waded through the crowd, moving in their direction. The younger of the pair tilted her head slightly as she spoke into a microphone clipped to her shoulder.

  ‘Continue moving,’ Leskov quietly ordered. ‘It’s probably nothing.’

  Evgenii led the team right, veering away from the approaching officers. A concrete parking structure spanned over the midsection of the street, casting a dark, cool shadow where they walked. The crowd thickened in the sheltered space, seeking some relief from the sun.

  ‘Excuse me,’ the senior cop announced in a stern, serious voice.

  Pivoting on his left leg, Kiril quickly spun around and drove the ball of his right foot into the side of the cop’s head. The momentum of the vicious spin kick flung the man headlong through a plate-glass window and into a large bookstore. The officer lay in a torn, bloody heap atop an overturned floor display of anthropology texts.

  ‘Officer down!’ the younger cop shouted into her radio as she drew her weapon.

  In a swift, fluid motion, Josef drew a 9-mm Glock from the holster concealed against the small of his back, aimed, and fired three rounds through the woman’s chest. She fell back, collapsing on the pavement.

  A woman screamed, and the crowd on Maynard Street panicked, spreading out away from the scene like a rippling aftershock.

  ‘Move!’ Evgenii shouted as he pushed a couple into a booth of hand-tooled leather goods.

  The metal frame supporting the light fabric roof over the booth buckled as the couple grabbed for anything to halt their fall. They toppled through the fabric wall into the next booth, setting a domino effect in motion that brought the seven consecutive booths down to the ground. Ceramics, jewelry, and blown-glass art crashed onto the pavement and was trampled by the fleeing throng.

  Josef holstered his weapon as the team moved toward Liberty Street. Leskov’s team pressed farther into the crowd, hoping to lose themselves amid the chaos.

  ‘Shit, gunfire!’ Nolan growled as he broke into a run toward Maynard Street, leaving Kelsey in his wake.

  He took defensive cover behind the pillars at the end of the arcade, scanned the situation, and moved out into the street. Kelsey emerged onto Maynard just as Nolan reached the officer who’d been shot. The crush of people emptying out onto the adjacent streets turned the area into complete chaos. Several bystanders were trampled, including artisans who were crawling out from beneath the wreckage of their booths.

  ‘She’s dead,’ Nolan pronounced angrily. ‘What a fucking waste.’

  He rose, looked around, then spotted the other officer through the shattered plate-glass window. Kelsey followed, and they traipsed over the debris from the ruined booths and stepped into the bookstore. Carefully, they lowered the fa
llen cop onto the carpeted floor.

  ‘How is he?’ Kelsey asked as Nolan checked for a pulse.

  ‘Unconscious, and cut to hell.’

  Nolan pulled the microphone off the cop’s shoulder and keyed the switch. ‘This is Kilkenny. There are two officers down on Maynard between Liberty and William. One’s dead and the other needs a medic, stat. Over.’

  ‘Help’s on the way, Kilkenny,’ Ptashnik promised, his voice filled with concern. ‘Where are the fucks who did this?’

  ‘They’re somewhere on Liberty, probably heading west, away from the fair. They’ve done what they came to do, so they’re looking to exfiltrate. Kelsey Newton is going to stay here with your people until the ambulance arrives.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Ptashnik asked.

  ‘I’m going to try and get my hands on these guys for you.’

  ‘Don’t you even think about it, Kilkenny!’ Ptashnik shouted.

  ‘You’re going to have to trust me on this one.’ Then he cut the transmission.

  Nolan turned to echo the same thought to Kelsey, but before he could say a word, she handed him the wounded officer’s weapon. After checking the safety on the SIG-Sauer P226 and clipping the police radio to his waist, Nolan turned and disappeared down the street.

  35

  JULY 26

  Ann Arbor, Michigan

 

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