by Wesley Cross
“I don’t think so.” Sofia shifted uncomfortably under Doug’s gaze. “It sounded like a large corporation that wanted to have a news outlet.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Doug said, returning his attention to the slice. “I can understand why a journalist might not want that kind of a purchase, but that’s not unheard of. I’m as far from your business as it gets, but even I can name a few transactions like that when a news outlet was bought by a company of some sort. Why did he think he was in danger?”
“He only told me this when he resigned, but he made it sound like whoever the buyer was didn’t want a news organization. They wanted a propaganda outfit.”
“You never told me this.” Connelly felt a knot forming in his stomach. “A fake news mill?”
“Not exactly a bullshit factory, more like an opinion mouthpiece that presents real facts but puts a certain spin on them to sway the public’s opinion.”
“Isn’t it what most news orgs do these days, anyway?” Doug asked, his mouth full. “Some sway to the left, some to the right, but most of them inject their bias into the news.”
“Yes,” she said, looking uncertain. “But he made it sound like they wanted something more than that. A place where the goal was to shape the narrative for the benefit of the company. Even the most partisan news companies give you some leeway on reporting. This sounded more like a ‘you do what you’ve been told’ kind of place, where everybody marches in lockstep. Like I said, I didn’t look into it before because Brian was shielding me from this, but maybe in a few more weeks when I’m more comfortable in my new role, I’ll have to dig deeper.”
“Have you heard from the mysterious buyers?”
“Once. Yesterday morning.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Connelly said before he could stop himself and cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound possessive, but what did they say?”
“I got a call from some guy as I walked into the office. It was a blocked number, so I don’t know for sure where he was calling from. He didn’t introduce himself. Said that he represented some powerful people and that with Brian’s departure, he hoped I’d reconsider their offer.”
“And?”
“I told him I had no idea what the offer was in the first place since I’ve never discussed it with my former boss and that we were not interested anyway. He tried some salesy lines, and I hung up. Then he called again, and this time the number wasn’t blocked. It looked like he was calling from the NYPD headquarters at One Police Plaza downtown.”
“What? The guy was a cop?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How do you know?”
“He threatened me this time,” she said. “I don’t remember the exact language, but he said something to the effect of actions having consequences, at which point I hung up on him again. Then I called my contact at One Police Plaza, and they had no record of anybody calling me from that number, so it must’ve been spoofed.”
“You should stay with me for some time,” Connelly said. “I don’t like this at all.”
“I’m with Mike on this,” Doug added. “Though it pains me to recommend a guy who takes his girlfriend to a pizza place that sells pies from a fake recipe and has no waitstaff.”
“Stop it, both of you. I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself. Besides…” She hesitated for a moment. “It might sound silly, but I believe in signs. If I were in real danger, the universe would find a way to tell me that.”
“I don’t believe in signs. You have no idea what kind of people you might be dealing with here,” Connelly said. “And I’ve seen enough guys who thought themselves invincible getting hurt or worse.”
“You don’t believe in signs, huh?”
“Sorry, no.”
“It never happened to you when you were down on your luck and then something amazing came about that made you feel like everything would be okay?”
“Nope.”
“You can laugh all you want, but I swear it happens. A few days after my dad’s funeral, my mom and I were sitting at a bus stop, and I remember I felt like the world was never going to be the same. And then there was this lady cop on a horse going by. A magnificent white mare. The cop looked at me and asked if I wanted to pet the animal. I was afraid but didn’t want her to see it and went for it. I thought it would bite my head off.”
“What happened?” Doug asked.
“The beast didn’t want to leave me. She kept giving me her head to pet her and kept turning this way and that way, and the cop said she’d never seen anything like that before. After they left, I felt like I would be okay, you know?”
“Wow,” Doug said. “That’s a great story.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Mike, it’s sweet that you want to protect me, but no. What are you going to do? Lock me in your place twenty-four seven? I’ll be fine. I’ve been a journalist my entire career. Danger comes with the territory. I promise I’ll be careful, but there’s no need for anyone to babysit me. Now, what is a proper thing to do after a thousand-calorie meal?”
“To get a dessert,” Doug said, stuffing the last piece of stromboli into his mouth. “It’s the only way to do it.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
Connelly smiled too, but the lightheartedness of the evening evaporated. The breeze was still cool and crisp, occasionally bringing a mouthwatering whiff of freshly baked dough. But as he looked around at the tree-lined street, he couldn’t help but notice that the setting sun was coloring it in a gruesome shade of red.
27
Hong Kong
“You can’t be serious,” Mandy said. “Why do we need it? No, scrap that—where are we going to get a Russian cruise missile?”
“Let me address the why first. We’re confronted by an army,” Helen said. “Black Arrow deployed thousands of people around the city to look for me, not to mention a few dozen to guard the TLR building. Right now, to infiltrate Edmund’s company, I’d need an army of my own.”
“I feel a but coming.”
“Yes. I don’t have an army, obviously. But, if I can make Edmund’s army disappear, even for a short time, I could make a run for it.”
“I see. You want to target the facility with a cruise missile,” Mandy said. “To make them pull everybody off the building. But how?”
“There’s a Russian warship docked in the port of Hai Phong,” Helen said, opening a laptop and pulling up a map. “The Raven is a Gepard-class frigate that carries eight Kalibr cruise missiles. If I can take control of one of them and target TLR, Tillerson will have no other choice but to abandon the building. And even if he doesn’t order Black Arrow to retreat or even tries to make them stay, I’m confident their superiors will overrule him.”
“I don’t know if I like it. They’ll label you a terrorist just for trying.”
“They might.”
“Can you even do that? Take over a missile?”
“I can’t hack into the Russian ship directly.” Helen shrugged. “But I have an idea that might work. There’s an American aircraft carrier in the South China Sea. It’s been recently upgraded so it should be equipped with the newest WWAN—microwave-based wide-area network. Until recently, they’ve been using satellite-based communications, but in the last few years they started adding the network so the ships could talk directly to one another and their aircraft. There are some vulnerabilities in the network—”
“Wait a minute. You’re saying that you want to hack the Russian missile through the American carrier?”
“No.” She shook her head. “The Russian frigate is too far to hack them directly through the carrier.”
“Good,” Mandy said, taking a deep breath. “So, I don’t have to worry about you starting World War Three. Wait. What do you mean directly?”
“Technically, before I get to the Russian ship’s systems, I’d need to hack an X-47B stealth plane that hails from the aircraft carrier. It will work as a relay. I’d need to hack the ca
rrier first, which will let me hack the plane, which in turn will let me hack the Russian missile.”
“You are going to start World War Three. If you target TLR with a Russian missile—”
“Targeting the TLR building was my first plan. But when I thought about it, I realized that targeting one building won’t be enough.”
“How do you mean?”
“You said it yourself—Black Arrow guys are everywhere. If I target only the building, they’ll pull everybody off the area, but that doesn’t solve how I can get there from here without getting caught. I’m sure they’ve set up a perimeter and closed the highway. They’ll catch me in no time.”
“So, what exactly is the plan?”
“The threat has to be such that everybody in the city would want to get off the streets. We need the government to force the citizens to take cover.”
“Okay,” Mandy said. “You don’t want them to know what’s your actual target. That’s smart. But in that case, how do you make sure Tillerson evacuates the building? They might decide to take their chances.”
Helen watched her friend’s face for a few seconds, contemplating the answer. “The only way to make it work is to create a threat big enough to convince the entire city that no matter where you are, you’re in danger.”
She saw her friend stiffen as she processed the words.
“I think,” she continued, “to do it properly, I’d need to aim a nuclear-tipped missile at Hong Kong.”
“No.” Mandy stood up. “This is madness. Are you out of your mind? What happens if you can’t control it and it strikes the city? What if—”
“Relax.” Helen put up a hand, stopping her friend. “To pull it off, I don’t necessarily need an actual nuke. As a matter of fact, the cruise missiles onboard the Russian warship are unlikely to carry nuclear warheads. But that’s irrelevant. What I need is to create a scenario where people think there’s a nuke aimed at Hong Kong. The Russians will deny it, of course, but it won’t matter. At least it won’t matter long enough for our purpose.”
“But they’ll designate you as an international terrorist.”
“If you sit down and actually let me explain, you’ll see that it’s not that crazy.”
Mandy continued to stand there, and for a moment, Helen thought her friend would turn around and leave. Finally, the woman gave a sigh and sat on the mattress next to her.
“There are a few things that need to be considered,” Helen started. “First, you’re right—I don’t want to create an international incident. Least of all do I want to pit Americans against the Russians and risk a nuclear war. I—or we, should you choose to help me—would need to create a proxy first.”
“Like what?”
“Something akin to Anonymous—a ragtag team of loosely affiliated individuals scattered all over the globe without loyalties to any particular country. Russians and Americans would have to be in the mix to make sure the blame falls equally on both parties. We should mix some others and make it diversified. Chinese, European citizens, etc. Some backstories would need to be created. I’d need to place some breadcrumbs that could be found in the aftermath of the hack that would confirm that it was done by the group.”
“Okay,” Mandy said. “That will be a lot of work, but it’s not a bad idea. Maybe create an archive of ‘operations’ that would list some hacks that could be attributed to the group.”
“Right.” Helen nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Something that is reasonably well hidden, but not too well.”
“But you’d need to find some attacks that cannot be disputed by other hacking groups. You can’t just pluck something that was done by Anonymous and claim it as your own because they’ll call your bullshit.”
“I know somebody whose operations we can assign to this fictitious group that nobody’ll challenge us on.”
“How do you know they won’t?”
A vision of a burned-down house appeared in Helen’s mind. A full-size Captain America shield could be seen in the rubble. Its colors were darker than original, scorched by the fire, but the shield itself was intact, as if made from the real vibranium.
“How do you know that?” the woman repeated.
“I just do.” Helen sighed. “If anything, they would’ve wanted me to use them.”
“All right, so let’s say we created this fake hacker collective—then what?”
“Then I’ll tell the city officials that I hacked a Russian cruise missile with a nuclear warhead and unless they pay us a certain amount of money, I’ll launch it against Hong Kong.”
“We’ll have to set up bank accounts then, to maintain the charade. That’ll take a long time.”
“That, fortunately, is something we won’t need to do. I already have a series of numbered accounts that are impossible to trace, just for an occasion like this.”
“For an occasion where you threaten a city with a nuclear warhead?”
“Well,” Helen chuckled, “I admit, I probably didn’t have that particular scenario in mind back when I decided to establish them.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, looking at each other.
“Are you sure it’s worth the risk? Tillerson might be a bad guy, but if this crazy plan of yours doesn’t work and you get caught…” She trailed off. “You’ll spend the rest of your life in a very unpleasant place without visitation rights.”
“I know,” Helen said. “But Tillerson isn’t a problem, dear. It’s who he works for. When I worked for the CIA—”
“You’re kidding me. You—the girl I shared my lunch breaks with—worked for the CIA?”
“Yes.” Helen produced a tired smile. “On a few occasions, actually.”
“Oh, boy.” Mandy sighed and stood up again. “There’s a hole in your plan, though. What if the authorities decide to sit on that information? Keep it a secret?”
“This one’s easy,” Helen said. “We send the copy of the demands to all major networks at the same time as we contact the city officials.”
“All right.” Mandy shook her head in disbelief. “I’m going to regret this, I’m sure. Fine. Let’s do this. But you still haven’t told me the most important part.”
“Which one?”
“How the hell are you going to hack the aircraft carrier?”
“You know,” she said, “Sun Tzu once said that all war is deception.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? There’s already plenty of deception going on—fake hacker collectives, fake bank accounts.”
“What I was trying to tell you before is when I worked for the CIA, I created a backdoor. I still have a way to access the CIA servers, so I’m going to send a message to the American aircraft carrier that would look like it came from a legitimate source. An email.”
“You want to plant the malware through email?”
Helen grinned as she watched her friend coming to the realization of what she was trying to say.
“It better be a more convincing email than a message from a Nigerian prince. We’re talking about the United States Navy. It’ll be hard to fool them.”
“Uh-huh.” She stood up and patted Mandy on the shoulder. “That’s precisely why the email should come from the prince.”
“What?”
“Not the Nigerian prince, Mandy. It should come from the president of the United States.”
28
New York
“Can you believe it?”
“What?” Connelly looked away from the frying pan and glanced toward Sofia by the window. In the last few weeks, they’d been staying together in his apartment so often that on a rare night where she couldn’t make it, he felt like he was missing a limb.
“It’s snowing.” She pointed outside. “Not much, a few small flakes here and there, but it’s a bit early this year.”
He picked up the pan and slid two equal portions of an omelet onto simple china plates, next to the toast and a few slices of baby cucumber. Then he walked over to the window, hugg
ed Sofia and looked outside.
Indeed, it was snowing. The sky was bleak-gray and the fog hugging the street made it look like they were floating inside a large cloud.
“It looks like it’ll get worse,” he said, looking at the snow.
“It would be a good day to stay home,” she said. “But alas.”
“I wish. C’mon, let’s eat—the food’s getting cold.”
They took their seats at Connelly’s small kitchen table, and he poured two cups of coffee.
“By the way,” she said. “And I don’t want you to freak out.”
“Ha.” He chuckled out loud, but his stomach knotted against his will. “When people say don’t freak out, it’s usually the right time to do that.”
“No.” She patted his hand. “I just wanted to tell you my uncle and I had the conversation.”
“No way. How am I still alive?”
“He approves.” She shrugged. “Not that we need his approval, but he kind of blurted it out when I saw him yesterday. Says he knows a military man when he sees one, and that you seem like a straight arrow.”
“Am I? A straight arrow?”
“I don’t know.” She gave him a wink. “It was kind of dark.”
“Oh my God, you’re terrible.”
She gave a soft laugh and returned her attention to the omelet. He watched her work on her breakfast—she was sitting on the chair, with both of her feet on it and his old shirt pulled over her knees to keep her bare legs warm. He felt himself grinning like a teenager who saw a girl way out of his league.
“Stop staring at me.” She smiled as she wolfed down a large bite of eggs. “On second thought—keep on looking. I kind of like it.”
“How’s it going at work? Any trouble since the last call from your suitors?”
“Nope. I hope,” she waved her fork in the air, “that it stays that way. But so far, I haven’t heard anything. Not a peep.”
“Have you spoken to your former boss?”
“Not since he resigned. But I heard that he packed up his stuff and left New York.”