Returning to Zero (Mick O'Malley Series Book 2)

by Alan B. Johnston

  “Sure, sure,” he replied, although he never felt further from fun. He sat down next to her and she poured him a drink. “Nice wheels.”

  “Oh, you saw the moped? I borrowed it from a nice guy back at the hotel. Have a drink of, what is this stuff called? Baijiu, I think. It’s not so bad. Ganbei!” They clinked glasses and downed the drink.

  “Look Jaz, I appreciate this, but I’m really not into it.”

  “Right, mooning over Kat and her Russki friend is too much fun right now.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “It is fair. Anyway, I don’t think you should be so hard on her. I did a little research on her husband—do you want to know what I found?” she asked. When Mick nodded, she continued. “Well, it does seem likely he has GTC connections. And she is probably telling the truth about their relationship. I found out he had a girlfriend for many years in Montreal while they supposedly were married, and it didn’t seem that it was a secret. And one of Kat’s aunt’s told me—I was pretending to be a researcher doing survey on women’s experience of marriage—that Kat never seemed happy in her marriage and had talked about divorce, but something seemed to be holding her back. She might be telling the truth, you know.”

  Mick tried to process what Jasinski had just told him, but he found it hard. Why would she be telling the truth now after telling so many lies?

  “For myself, the one part of the story that didn’t add up was how she helped you escape in Kiev. That always made no sense to me, but if what she is now saying is true, and if she really cared about you, then it does make sense. You should really talk to her again.”

  Mick nodded but he didn’t feel like it.

  They lost track of time, talking into the night, keeping the conversation sober by switching to drinking tea. Jaz explained what she liked about NØviz, and Mick listened hard. He still didn’t get the guy, but he did start to understand that Jaz saw a lot in him. Anyway, he thought, there’s no accounting for chemistry. As Jaz talked and talked about NØviz, suddenly he began to realize how he felt about Kateryna. Despite the obstacles which were not minor—falling in love with the wife of a Russian spy and being on the run after faking his own death were hardly minor—he knew they would somehow wind up together.

  When they were leaving a little while later, Jasinski turned to Mick.

  “Do you want a lift?” she offered. Mick grinned and nodded.

  He climbed on the back of the moped and locked his hands around Jasinski’s waist. Jasinski twisted the throttle and they zoomed off noiselessly.

  Mick breathed in the fresh night air and watched the brightly lit buildings drift by. It felt nice not to think, to just feel Jasinski’s waist, and the cool breeze, and listen to the night noise of traffic and the moped shuttling them along. Jasinski weaved in and out of traffic, and together they wound their way through the city.

  Mick closed his eyes and felt himself becoming more relaxed than he had been in a long, long time. He cleared his mind. When he finally opened his eyes, they were riding under an elevated section of freeway that was illuminated with bright neon blue lights.

  Mick made up his mind in the soothing cobalt glow.

  He always claimed that he wanted to know the truth, to know what happened. If he spoke to Kateryna again, he could get that, if he could trust her again. He wasn’t sure, but he gradually felt the negative feelings dissipate.

  Kat, what really happened?

  When Kateryna opened her door for him about an hour later, she didn’t show any surprise at the late hour. His head was clear and his mind focused.

  “This time, I will hear you out. But first, I want to know what you are doing here, and what you plan to do next.” he began. Kateryna took a deep breath before talking.

  “I am just here for the conference. I had no idea you would be here, I swear. I also don’t plan on telling anyone anything. I have decided to end things completely with my husband and have nothing to do with him or the organization any more. I won’t respond to any blackmail. If he tells anyone what I’ve done, I will face the consequences. I don’t want to hide and run anymore. I have wanted to tell you the truth for the longest time now. I almost did in Kiev, but I decided it wouldn’t be fair to you—you had enough to deal with right then, and you needed to be concentrating on staying alive. If you had asked, I probably would have told you, or at least I hope I would have.

  “But why are you here? Are you sure it is safe? Where have you been? Did you get my emails?” she asked.

  Mick did not hold back or storm out, but instead told her truthfully about the last seven months of his life.

  “Wow! So No-viz—that’s a weird name—is here in Shanghai? And you think he is going to meet with the Chinese and hand over the botnet? We can’t let that happen! Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I doubt it. I wish I knew if the FSB knew if No-viz was here—but I am NOT asking you to try to find out! I think it will be fine. But what about you? I hope you don’t have to, but if you have to disappear I can give you some tips and also introduce you to some RAPtOR members who can be very useful.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine as well. I don’t want to run this time.”

  They continued talking and quickly a few hours flew by. Mick glanced at the time and announced that he had to leave, standing up. Kateryna got up and came over next to him.

  “Do you have to leave?” she asked.

  “Ah, yes, I do, sorry,” he replied, backing away.

  “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just it has been forever since we were together.”

  “I know, and when this is over, we need to have another long talk and figure out what to do. But for now...” he left it at that, and Kateryna nodded, moving away.

  A minute later he was outside heading for the stairs.

  That was close!

  Mick wandered into a small bar not far from the hotel he had checked into for the night. His mind was too filled with thoughts for him to sleep, and he didn’t even feel like writing code. The many weeks of being on the run were starting to take a toll, and being alone didn’t help.

  He sat down next to a couple of guys having a heated discussion in English. After a few minutes, he decided they were debating about simplified Chinese characters, a project in mainland China and Singapore from the 2Øth century where rules were applied to reduce the number of strokes in characters and the number of characters overall in the language. Taiwan still used the ‘traditional’ characters, or the ‘complex’ characters, as they were described on the mainland. They seemed to be arguing about whether the simplification rules were systematic or arbitrary, and whether the work was original to the 2Øth century, or had been going on for centuries, if not millennia.

  He found the conversation fascinating and just eavesdropped without getting involved. Soon, his beer was empty and his mind was starting to relax.

  The argument continued, but he felt the one arguing that the rules were somewhat systematic had the upper hand. He left the bar a little later and headed back to his hotel.

  Chapter 2A.

  “Yes?”

  “Sir, the meeting is set,” replied the man in uniform to the General, who was sitting in the airplane flying over Kamchatka.

  “Excellent, thank you.”

  “We should know all the details by the time we land in Shanghai.”

  “Do you have the report on the DDOS attack?”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, handing him a thick dossier.

  “Dismissed.”

  Chapter 2B.

  Ja2 #Waiting just kills me. I want it over now! #notanotherdelay #fastforward

  Mick received a message the following day from Jasinski about the time and the place of the meeting between NØviz and the Chinese.

  He thought long and hard about one thing: should he involve his friends, or go it alone? His instinct was to not rely on anyone besides himself. This was how he had been operating for a long time now. But where had it go
t him? Alone, isolated, and no closer to the truth. Thinking about it, the times he made the most progress was when he had trusted others. Whether it was Kateryna, or Gunter, or even Jasinski. Wasn’t the best chance of a successful outcome to use all his friends? He made his decision.

  He carefully looked over the map of the meeting location, studying the road grid. Then he noticed another grid.

  Really? Interesting!

  He searched and pulled up a few charts, overlaying them on his map.

  A few minutes later, he was reaching out to the RAPtOR network for assistance. He then took a bus to a large building on the bay. A few hours later he walked out with his shopping list of high-tech aquatic equipment taken care of.

  Mick contacted Gunter and explained his plan. He would rely on Gunter to get the surveillance network up and running. Gunter would also deploy the ‘box.’

  Mick saw Lars a little later.

  “You asshat!” were the first words out of Lars mouth when he caught sight of Mick, apparently still alive. He was sitting at a small table on sidewalk café wearing a T-shirt that read: ‘There are 1Ø kinds of people, those who understand binary, and those who don’t.’

  “Hey, I missed you, too!” Mick replied, hurrying over to give his friend a bear hug.

  “You jerk! And why are you grinning? You knew and you didn’t tell me!” Lars said to Gunter, who was sitting next to him, which only made his grin wider. Mick sat down at the table and ordered a double espresso, which seemed to materialize out of thin air and appear in front of him.

  “I know, I’m sorry. Man, I’ve really missed you, old friend!”

  “Well, I didn’t miss you! I can’t believe you can just show up after all this time—not even a little dead—here in Zhongguo!” Mick couldn’t help but smile at Lars using the Chinese word for China—their old game that they used to play when visiting other countries, such as when they used Nihon for Japan. Lars continued: “But listen: what can I do to help?” he asked, suddenly serious.

  “Did Gunter fill you in?” Mick asked.

  “A little, in a vague you-know-I’m-not-telling-you-the-whole-truth kind of way—something you are an expert at,” he replied, glaring at Gunter again.

  “Good. My days of trying to handle everything by myself are over. So here’s what you can do.” As Mick explained, Lars raised his eyebrows, chuckled softly, shook his head once or twice.

  Then he simply replied “Got it!”

  I so missed this guy!

  “Excellent! And Liz—” both Gunter and Lars gave him a look. “—it’s up to you guys on how to involve her.”

  “Sure, sure,” Gunter replied.

  He heard back just a few hours later that everything was in place.

  “How did you manage that?” he asked.

  “Liz helped a lot—she convinced two shop keepers that the access points would draw more customers with the free WiFi. Which it will, until the batteries die in about two days.”

  “Wow, I owe her one.”

  “Yes, you do. She was happy to hear you were fine, but annoyed that you’ve been hiding from everyone—pleased, of course, but very annoyed. You’d better watch out for her.”

  The water was not as cold as Mick thought it would be. Earlier, he had retrieved the wetsuit from the hole in the ground where he had hidden it on the outskirts of Shanghai. Instead of wearing his old mask, he wore a new experimental one that had a heads-up display that projected a screen in front of him from a waterproof Raspberry Pi computer strapped to his arm.

  The virtual display showed a view of the surface of the canal in front of him. It was being relayed by a hydro drone that was about three meters above him, skimming over the surface of the canal. The canal wound its way parallel to the street, with many small bridges overhead. With the cold weather, there were no fisherman, which was a good thing.

  He couldn’t see anything in the murky, nearly black water. He didn’t want to know how it smelled—all he could smell was the diving mask and the oxygen that he breathed in.

  It had been a while since he had used scuba gear. He was thankful for his RAPtOR friend at the maritime institute for loaning him the gear. It was amazing stuff for sure.

  The water drone matched his pace along the water. When he had tested it in a pond earlier, it had barely made ripples in the water.

  Also on the heads up display, he could select and view cameras that Gunter had placed around the meeting site. He could also see a map showing his location relative to the spot—getting closer every moment.

  When he got very close, he moved towards the edge of the canal to make the hydro-drone less visible. He paused, arriving at the destination, and made a slight adjustment to his buoyancy so he could stay under the water without any effort. He glanced at the time indication in his screen and noted that he was still early.

  Now, to wait.

  Only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like an eternity to Mick, floating in the dark water. He realized that this was very similar to an isolation chamber experiment—a thought that didn’t help him relax. He tried to recall the feeling of riding the moped under the neon overpass from the previous evening.

  Right on time, one of the cameras showed NØviz ambling up the street. He appeared to have a small computer under his arm as he loped along. If he was nervous, it did not show. In a few minutes, either the botnet would be transferred to the Chinese, or it would be dead. Mick did not want to think of the odds of each outcome.

  NØviz sat down in the outside seating of the café, ordered something from the waiter, then was left sitting alone. He pulled out a book and started pretending to read it. Mick nearly laughed out loud into his respirator when he recognized the white cover of the well-worn paperback which had a large blue C on the cover, a book that any programmer would recognize instantly: Kernighan and Ritchie.

  Well, that is not a signal that will get missed!

  A few moments later, two Chinese men approached and sat down with NØviz. Mick selected a different camera, and a WebRTC session was established so he could hear the conversation relayed through the hydro drone, the Raspberry Pi, and to his implant headset.

  Instead of English, a stream of Chinese came over the audio. Mick realized that there must be another table closer to the microphone—perhaps directly under it?—that had just been seated. The boisterous chatter completely drowned out the conversation that he wanted to hear.

  Damn! Damn! Damn!

  Mick hardly had time to fret before he saw something that stopped him in mid-thought. A fourth person had walked up to the table and was conversing with the others. The color brightness of the heads-up display was not very good, but he didn’t need Technicolor to know that the woman had bright pink hair—it was Jasinski!

  What the hell is she doing there? This wasn’t the plan! What is she saying? What is she doing?

  Mick saw a message come in from Gunter saying that a different IP address had an audio feed. He selected it and moments later he could hear what she was saying.

  “Just don’t! Don’t!” he heard Jasinski saying. “Don’t be an idiot!”

  “Get out of here! Why did you follow me? Piss off!”

  “I’m not leaving. I can’t let you do this!”

  “Jaz, cut it out. You know I really like you, but not if you’re going to act like this,” he heard NØviz reply. Mick’s mind was furiously trying to come up with a plan. Jasinski might just spoil the whole thing—and get herself caught at the same time! Then he heard another voice.

  “Are you ready to do this? Or are we wasting our time?” one of the Chinese men asked.

  “Yes, yes! Let me just talk to her for a minute,” NØviz replied, and Mick saw him grab Jasinski’s wrist and pull her away from the table and go out of the camera view and microphone range.

  During the break, Mick initiated a frequency sweep of the vicinity.

  Wait—Uh, oh!

  The sweep showed at least two radio transmitters that weren’t there a few minutes ago
. The frequencies they were operating on—that made no sense at all! He frowned, not an easy thing to do with a scuba regulator in his mouth.

  No, it couldn’t be…

  NØviz returned a moment later with Jasinski following behind. She sat down next to him looking dejected. NØviz spoke first.

  “So guys, as I was saying. Let’s complete this transaction. Right now the botnet is temporarily out of my control—this is my insurance policy against you doing something stupid like trying to take the botnet from me. Right now, I can’t do anything to the botnet even if I wanted to. But after I get confirmation that you have put the money in my account, at a particular time, I’ll transfer control over to your C & C server. OK?” he said, referring to a Command and Control server for the network.

  There was a silence that Mick suspected was uncomfortable for all.

  “No. First you transfer control, then we give you money,” the other replied, finally. Mick could see NØviz slowly shaking his head.

  “Blin! Fools! Idiots!” he swore, standing up, causing everyone to jump to their feet as well. “I can’t believe it. Well, that’s that, then—” but NØviz didn’t have time to finish the sentence. Mick thought he saw one of the two men make a move inside his jacket, but NØviz was quicker, pulling out an odd shaped device from his pocket and pointing it at the men. “—I wouldn’t try anything!” He leaned forward and said in a quiet voice that the microphone almost didn’t pick up. “This is a gun!” he said, making them freeze.

  Despite the situation, Mick couldn’t help feel a smile coming over him. The thing in NØviz’s hand was an off-white color, and vaguely shaped like a gun, very blocky—and it appeared to be entirely made of plastic. Mick immediately recognized it for what it was: a 3D printed plastic pistol! Mick hoped for NØviz’s sake that it was a well designed and printed one.

  Mick had printed one himself a while back just to see if he could do it using plans he downloaded. When it was finished, he wanted to test fire it, but didn’t dare hold it in his hand. He had seen enough videos of these devices exploding, so he had used a long stick. It had worked, although the experience reminded him again how much he hated weapons in general and firearms in particular.