Considering how quickly Deminov had left him in his hands, Trevor guessed he had been there a while and held some level of trust within the Glazov. They continued down a long hallway to the back of the mansion toward what appeared to be a solid core steel door, in front of which one of Mikhailov’s soldiers stood guard.
Guarded entrance. That was an unexpected turn of events. Trevor had anticipated he’d be working in a simple computer room with easy in-and-out access. The whole operation was becoming a big-ass onion full of deep and intriguing layers.
At Dmitriy’s nod, the man pulled a key ring from his pocket and unlocked the heavy door. As soon as the door opened, Trevor instantly knew Cassandra was going to freak. At a glance, he had a fairly good idea what the security measures were for the computer room. Hoping to give Cassandra a heads up, he commented, “Damn, this is off the hook.”
The door slammed shut behind them, and the lock clicked; the bolt slamming home echoed loudly in Trevor’s ears. The image of Cassandra’s panicked expression when she realized communications had been severed burned him. He could only hope that she had caught his double meaning.
*****
Cassandra couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Darkness crowded her vision and an electrifying shudder reverberated through her. She shook as fearful images flooded her and an acidic tang reached up her throat. When her mind and body finally reconnected, her numb fingers fumbled across the keys, double-checking the feeds. Shit! Okay. Chill. Think. Panic rioted within her. She took a deep cleansing breath and licked her lips nervously. Okay. He didn’t say the words. Good sign. Or is it?
She drew her legs up and hugged her knees as thoughts careened from one possibility to another. Damn, this is off? What did he mean by that? Frustrated and anxious, Cassandra scrubbed her face with her hands and, pulling it back, tied her hair in a knot at her nape. Stick to the plan. Hold tight. If he doesn’t show by midnight, I’ll head for the safe house as planned.
Chapter Thirty
Lifeline
DMITRIY EYED HIM CLOSELY. "THIS computer room is totally isolated from radio waves. Nothing can be transmitted from down here. No cell signals and, as I mentioned, no radio frequencies of any kind can penetrate these walls.”
Trevor pushed his concern for Cassandra to the back of his mind; there was nothing he could do for the moment. He needed to concentrate on the tasks at hand—the files and his life. He schooled his features and maintained a casual, unconcerned visage as his adrenaline spiked in reaction to the thoughts exploding in his head. That room was another layer of the onion. Fuck!
Dmitriy lead the way down into a surprisingly vast, empty room. Trevor observed a long, narrow table off to the side shoved against the wall and peppered with several computer workstations. He was puzzled by the lack of users and by the mainframe—a very large and expensive computer, capable of supporting hundreds, even thousands, of processes simultaneously—inside a glass-paneled temperature-controlled room taking up most of the right end of the lab. Opposite the mainframe’s glassed room was a large metal cabinet.
Trevor frowned. The size of the operation caught him off guard. This wasn’t the sign of a small criminal mind but something more complex. No wonder Boris had his sights on Mikhailov. The mainframe staring Trevor in the eye was the most surprising part yet in the “I Spy in Russia” game into which he and Cassandra had stumbled.
“The loo is here.” Dmitriy pointed to a door immediately to the right of the stairs—practical if one didn’t want employees wondering around the house, sticking their noses where they shouldn’t. “Home sweet, home,” Dmitriy voiced sarcastically as he led Trevor to the workstations. “You can use this one,” Dmitriy indicated one of the computers and moved off to take his own seat at another.
“Where is everybody?” Trevor asked, taking ownership of the machine.
“Who?”
“Come on, Dmitriy. Anyone in the programming business with a little bit of hacking skills knows Mikhailov has a finger in online fraud.” Trevor used widely known information to chat him up. “I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that, considering the size of the mainframe and the mentions he made during our conversation yesterday, he has to have others under his thumb.”
Dmitriy narrowed his eyes. “You see too much. It can get you in trouble.” He paused just a moment and added, “They’re in a separate area of the house. You won’t be working with them.”
“Okay, then. Better this way. Fewer distractions.” Fewer eyes on him. Perfect, actually. He stretched his hands and fingers in front of him and dove in. The system was already logged on, so Trevor took his time, thoroughly checking and inventorying the programs installed and the applications available at his fingertips.
“The files you’ll be working on are located on the external storage drive under a folder named ‘Koschei,’” Dmitriy chuckled; “A poetic reference to the Russian mythological creature that can’t be killed.” Dmitriy observed as Trevor located and checked the contents of the folder. After a long pause, he commented, his tone full of curiosity, “You don’t look the type.”
Assuming an air of innocence, Trevor countered, “What type? Geek type?”
“No, criminal type. You do know who you are dealing with here, right?”
Trevor was still interested in how deep Dmitriy was in bed with the organization and eyeballed him. “I had no choice. I needed this job. How about you? You don’t seem the type either. For one, you smile an awful lot for a Russian.”
Dmitriy chuckled halfheartedly. “Vladimir is my uncle. If that’s what you wanted to know.”
The news confirmed Trevor’s suspicions. He would need to watch his back around Dmitriy. Although he didn’t look much like the stereotypical vicious mafia type, he was family, and blood spoke louder when push came to shove. “I was just curious as to how you got here. Why aren’t you working on the program? You seem to know your way around computers.”
“My knowledge centers on hardware and network engineering. Not so much into programming, but enough to be dangerous.” He spread his arms, embracing the room. “I set up the entire network for the mansion.”
What he said explained a lot. Dmitriy appeared to be knowledgeable about what he did. The network, and specifically the mainframe, was secure and isolated from the outside world. Trevor studied him a moment and then it dawned on him. Dmitriy was the reason Trevor found himself in that position. The security he’d placed on the network had made it impossible to be accessed remotely.
“That makes this a fully standalone network,” Trevor commented, almost to himself.
“Yep.”
Trevor probed in an attempt to assess the capabilities of Dmitriy’s creation, “You do have backups of the files, right? I don’t want to make a mistake without having something to restore to.”
“Of course. But I didn’t want to run the risk of having remote backups. Sensitive information can easily be taken the minute you open the network to remote instances. I do have a hot backup of the disk running twice a day.” He continued with his description of his work, beaming with pride at what he’d created.
Trevor had to agree, his work was quite something—tight security, standalone server, single backup on-site. Very secure and extremely convenient, especially because he had to copy the files requested by Boris and erase the whole damn thing in one fell swoop. “Yeah, I hear you. Nice job, by the way.”
Dmitriy smiled openly at the praise, his western education bleeding through.
“The entire network is—” Trevor’s gaze wandered to the mainframe in the corner of the room, “—quite impressive.”
A look of satisfaction crossed Dmitriy’s face.
Trevor glanced at the time and was surprised at how fast it had gone by. It also reminded him of how long he and Cassandra had been out of touch and how worried she had to be. He was comforted by the knowledge that no matter the situation, she was a stickler for details and wouldn’t deviate from the plan.
*****
Her eyes lit on Boris’s file still displayed on the screen and it spurred her decision. She grabbed her cell from the desk, dialed Jessica, and put it on speakerphone.
While it rang, Cassandra pulled up the satellite link and inputted the address she’d acquired from Boris’s driver records.
“Hey Cassie!” Jessica’s voice flowed out of the speaker on the fifth ring.
Keeping her eyes trained on the screen, Cassandra replied, “Jessie, I thought I was going to have to track you down again.”
While she talked to Jessica, an image appeared on the screen. Zooming in, she observed the small house with well-groomed gardens, surrounded by low fencing. The black sleek sedan she had come to know so well sat in the driveway.
Jessica laughed. “What’s going on?”
“I’m calling to see if you’d made any progress on the research on Boris Kostas.”
Cassandra snagged a screen capture of the house and added it to Boris’s profile. Movement on the feed drew her attention back to the image and she watched a person moving from the house to the car. Adrenaline raced through her veins as she zoomed in closer and discerned Boris. Gotcha! Guess you’re taking a passenger you didn’t count on.
“He’s kind of squirrelly,” Jessica continued. “Not much available on him other than what’s on public record. Military records, police, opening his own security business.”
Cassandra listened with half an ear as she watched the car pull from the driveway, following its progress back into the heart of the city.
“Cassie, did you hear what I said?”
Finally, the car came to a stop and disappeared into what looked like a parking structure.
“Yes, Jessica. Sorry. Just checking something out here. I already know all that. Did you check for bank accounts? Off-shore?”
“What do you think?” Cassandra could tell her friends eyes had just rolled in her head.
Her fingers danced along the keyboard, accessing the CCTV system they’d tapped earlier, hoping that once Boris stopped she could track him through the city. Locating the cross streets, she quickly found the right corner. A few minutes later, Boris appeared on foot, heading south. Yes. Mine! Cassandra’s heart pounded in her ears and a new surge of adrenaline pumped through her veins. She was on the hunt.
She turned her focus back to Jessica. “Jessie. Didn’t mean to jump you. It’s just that things here are not a clear cut as they are in the States and Western Europe. I’m just covering our bases.”
Although Cassandra’s thoughts were never far from Trevor, tailing Boris made her feel useful. She followed his path, saving snapshots of him whenever his face was visible to the camera. Later she would try pulling a clearer image from them for her analysis.
“I get that, Cassie. I’m doing my best, you know,” Cassandra’s attention was caught by the snippiness in Jessica’s voice.
Cassandra kept one eye on the camera feed and turned her attention to Jessica. “Jessie. What’s going on? You sound different. Is everything okay? Have you moved into your new digs? I saw the pictures you sent. It looks great.”
“Not yet. I get the keys the beginning of the month. Stephan has been helping me wi—” Her voice cut off abruptly.
“Stephan is helping you with…?”
“Nothing. With you gone I asked his opinion on the place before I rented it.”
“And?”
“And nothing. End of story.”
Cassandra wasn’t convinced her friend was being open with her by her evasive tone. “Jess. It’s me, Cass. What’s going on? Why do I get the feeling there’s something more to it?”
She tracked Boris’s progress and watched him turn into a restaurant. Damn it. He came back into view again in the large glass-paneled front window standing before a man with dark hair sitting at a table for two. Her heart beat like a drum against her ribs as she focused on their blurry profiles. They appeared to greet each other before Boris took the chair across from him.
“Did you hear me? Cassie?!”
“What?”
“I asked you how Trevor and you are doing. How come I don’t hear him? You guys are always working me over tag-team style each time you call.”
Cassandra’s breath hitched and she took a minute to collect herself. “He’s running an errand. He…he should be back any moment.”
“Cassie? You’re hiding something.”
“Look who’s talking, Jess. I’ll find out what’s bugging you even if I have to shake it out of you when we get back.”
“Wow, you should see how my legs are shaking. Not!”
A deep belly laugh bubbled from Cassandra’s lips. “Damn, Jessie. You don’t know how much I needed that. Hey other than the apartment, has Stephan checked in on you?”
“I…I haven’t seen or heard from him recently.”
“Trevor asked him to keep an eye out for you on penalty of death. Strict instructions to chase off any bold guys sniffing around you. He said you’re like a little sister now. That whoever wants to date you will have to go through him. Lucky you!” Cassandra scoffed. Silence filled the airwaves.
After a moment, Jessica’s halfhearted laugh flowed through the connection. “Well, he’ll be damned surprised.”
“What?” Cassandra asked.
“Anyway. I need to go. I’ll send you information on Kostas as soon as I finish my search.”
“Okay, Jessie. Talk to you—” Cassandra eyed her cell on the desk as the call abruptly disconnected. Talking to Jessica had taken her mind off her problem, but it also left her worried about her friend’s strange behavior. Raising hell about it would have to wait. She didn’t have time at that moment.
Sighing, Cassandra turned back to the computer. The pictures she’d saved of Boris’s date weren’t stellar, the majority of them fuzzy or at the wrong angle.
Taking a chance and hoping for the best, she ran the facial recognition software against them. The pictures weren’t clean enough for her program to locate the needed markers. Damn cheap CCTV cameras! Anxious to know more about Boris’s new connection, she zipped the files and dropped them in an email to George with a note asking him if he could try his luck at enhancing them and identifying the person of interest.
*****
“So…what happened to the other developers who tackled this project before me?”
Dmitriy’s eyes never left his screen. “Some fired. Most dismissed temporarily. Others dismissed…permanently.” He paused and then added, “None of them were capable of handling the coding required.”
The chill of an unspoken threat crept down Trevor’s spine. Dmitriy seemed to be giving him a sensible tip to fulfill his side of the deal or else.
Turning his attention back to the computer screen and opening the file in the compiler application, Trevor continued to search for ways he could get the data out of the room. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed it would be as hard as smuggling gold out of Fort Knox. Looking over the data on screen, Trevor narrowed his eyes. If the purpose of having him tackle the decrypter’s programming was to ensure the program was fully functional as soon as possible, why would they restrict his access to the data set? “I thought Mikhailov wanted this program finished fast.”
“He does. Why do you ask?”
“Why would he only release parts of the data for analysis instead of the full data set? I can’t provide him with what he needs if I don’t have full access.”
The sound of door locks being turned and footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted his speculations. Dmitriy whipped his chair around, his expression wary. Trevor looked toward the stairs and observed Mikhailov as he entered the room. His eyes zeroed in on him.
“How is the work going?” he asked without niceties.
“Just started on it. Can’t say much based on what I saw so far,” he responded quickly.
Mikhailov’s eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “How long before it is finished?”
“Hard to say. With the piecemeal you seem to be giving me? Months,” Trevor shrugged, a disguised challenging tone coating his voice.
Anger flared in Mikhailov’s eyes. “You said you were good.”
“I am. Very good. But I can’t work my magic if you tie my hands. I need access to the full data set, not crumbs.”
“I was not born yesterday, Ivanov. I was betrayed by more than one of your kind.”
“Then I guess we are done here. I need the money, but the way this is going it will be months before I see the end of this project.” Trevor knew he was pushing the envelope, but he had to buy time and needed to be able to verify the deletion of the whole data, not just parts of it. He leveraged on Mikhailov’s desire to have the program ready to use. “Dmitriy, can you escort me to the door?” Dmitriy drew in a quick breath and shot a worried look at his uncle.
Mikhailov’s took a step forward. For a brief second, Trevor thought Mikhailov would burst into a rage, punch him. Anger swirled under his cold blue eyes, hands fisted, but then he contained his turbulent emotions. Trevor was almost certain the Vory boss had realized he could be his one chance to achieve what he wanted.
Trevor looked him in the eye. “A full-time programmer would take at least a month to complete development. Including testing. I can finish it in half that time. But only if you give me access to the files I need.”
Mikhailov shifted his gaze to Dmitriy and nodded his head back at Trevor scoffing, “The boy is cocky.”
Dmitriy chuckled nervously.
“Confident,” Trevor shrugged.
Mikhailov observed him for a while. Just when Trevor thought he had crossed the line to the point of no return, the Russian bear spoke. “Agreed. I will give you access.”
A rivulet of sweat trailed down his back and his pulse beat wildly. In his head, Cassandra was hissing at his recklessness, putting his life on the line for a piece of software. Trevor released a shallow breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. His stubbornness could indeed come in handy sometimes. A cocky grin began spreading across his face; Mikhailov wore a matching one. “But…you are now my guest.”
To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series) Page 27