‘Leave that to me’, said Lomax. ‘I want to know if we get access to the computer room can you find the information we’re looking for?’
DD looked doubtful.
‘What do you need?’ asked Lomax patiently.
DD thought. ‘I would just need time. I’ve got all the gear I need here’ he said, glancing around the untidy room. ‘I just need time.’
‘OK DD, how much time?’ said Lomax through gritted teeth.
‘An hour should do it. But if we are breaking in, will we have all that time?’
‘Leave that to me’ said Lomax finally. ‘Your job is to disable their alarm system, or at least find out what we need to do in order to disable it.’
DD looked reluctant.
Lomax understood the young man’s fear. ‘You’ve been caught once, but I will be there with you all the way. But you must stick with me - understand?’
‘Don’t worry’ replied DD fervently. ‘I won’t let you out of my sight.’
‘Good’ said Lomax. ‘Just let me know when you’ve fixed the alarm. I’m going to turn in and get some sleep. You need some too before we go. We’ll set off around midnight.’
Lomax crouched down at the building adjacent to the Advanced Marine Agency headquarters. DD squatted beside him and watched as Lomax drew out a dark felt cloth and unrolled in on the ground. He and DD were wearing overshoes, dark boiler suits and surgical gloves.
‘We’re going to enter this building, get to the top and cross over to AMA’s building next door,’ whispered Lomax.
DD looked up into the night sky at the gap between the two buildings. ‘Bloody hell’ he gulped.
‘Quiet!’ admonished Lomax as he selected a small battery powered drill and fitted a bit. The bit went cleanly through the plastic surround of the window, hardly making a noise. Next Lomax threaded a long thin steel rod which was bent at ninety degrees about two centimetres from the end. He manipulated the rod until he felt it connect with the interior hook of the window mechanism. Levering the rod, he moved the locking mechanism to its open position.
Lomax carefully stowed away the tools, making sure that each was in its own felt compartment to reduce the risk of noise. Applying a blob of white plastic filler to the hole, he checked DD was ready. Carefully he pushed the window open. He stood up and with help from DD, climbed through the window. Once he was in the room he waited until his eyes had adjusted to the gloom before signalling to DD to crawl through. When they were both inside Lomax pulled the handle to lock the window.
Lomax used the flashlight to look around the small meeting room, signalling DD to be still. He moved to the door and opened it a short way to check outside. They headed through the darkened corridor towards the lift.
Stepping out of the lift on the top floor, Lomax hunted around for the door to the roof. DD found it first. It was locked and DD stepped aside to allow Lomax access. Lomax took out his lock pick tools from his rucksack and opened the door in two minutes. They made their way up a narrow flight of stairs, through another door and onto the flat roof.
DD looked over the parapet some fourteen floors below and started to feel dizzy. The distance to the building opposite, the object of their night’s activities, was less than twenty feet away. AMA’s roof was slightly lower than theirs. DD walked away from the edge and watched as Lomax brought out a thin rope which he attached to a lightweight triangular hook. Lomax coiled the rope at his feet before swinging it in an arc. DD was impressed that it took Lomax just one throw to find the rampart on the other building. As Lomax hauled back on the rope, DD could hear the hook snag tight on the ironwork set into the balustrade. Lomax secured the rope at his end and tied it off. Then without hesitation, he crawled over the parapet and prepared to inch his way over. DD watched with fascination as Lomax looped both legs around the rope and made his way across, hand over hand. The rope sagged alarmingly as Lomax reached the centre and DD realised he would have to follow him. DD looked away quickly as he felt another uncomfortable twinge of vertigo.
Soon Lomax had reached the other side and beckoned for DD to follow. He drew a deep breath, climbed over the wall and grabbed hold of the rope. Trying not to look down, he gently lowered himself onto it. Once he was in the correct prone position, he found that moving along the rope was relatively easy - memories of the course in Norfolk helped and he was surprised to find his fear receding. Lomax grabbed his hand as soon as he was near.
Before they set off again DD watched Lomax undo the locking mechanism and tug the rope sharply. The knot magically released itself from the far building. Lomax wound the rope into another neat coil before stowing it back in his rucksack.
They approached the roof door and Lomax opened it cautiously. DD had previously turned off the alarm for the building and was feeling confident. But even so he realised there might be other internal alarms he missed.
Lomax opened the door and waited to hear if any had been triggered. After two minutes they descended a similar narrow flight of stairs which emerged on the top floor, not far from the lift. This time they took the stairs to avoid alerting the night watchman.
They left the stairs on the ground floor and began to look for the computer room. After searching several identical corridors, DD asked Lomax to stop and give him a leg up. DD lifted one of the ceiling tiles and saw a bundle of data cables following the line of the corridor. From that point on it was an easy to trace the cables at the various corridor junctions. They led through to a room at the back of the building. A stout wooden door with its own separate alarm system was set into the wall next to it. The lock was a push button combination. DD was interested to see how Lomax would deal with this type of lock. Though he was used to hacking the most sophisticated computer defences, to his shame he knew next to nothing about door locks - electronic or otherwise.
Lomax reached into his rucksack and brought out a pen-like device attached by a cable to a three inch LCD screen. Lomax smeared a clear gel around the lock, switched on the screen, and dragged the pen through the gel. Immediately the screen showed the interior of the lock as a green maze. DD was impressed again with how prepared the man was. After a few scans of the lock, Lomax pressed four numbered keys on the face in a precise order. The lock clicked and Lomax turned the handle. He wiped the clear gel with a tissue before easing the door forward a fraction. Carefully he inspected the door jamb with his flashlight. But Lomax failed to spot a dull metal strip near the floor. As the door opened the circuit closed on a silent alarm.
Lomax opened the door wider and literally shoved DD inside. ‘Go, go, go DD! You’ve got forty minutes to get the info we need!’
The men had left no lookouts, another sign of sloppiness. Before he came out of the woods and into the clearing, Sean laid on the ground and began a rapid but quiet approach on his belly. Reaching the cabin wall he rose to peek through a gap under the curtains.
At first it was difficult to make out anything as one of the men had his back to the window blocking the view. Eventually he moved to reveal two other men. One stood in front of her and the one behind held her arms. They had not yet harmed her, but he could tell by the threatening way they stood that violence was imminent. The man in front was waving the red end of his cigarette under her chin and around her face, occasionally jabbing the air to emphasise a point.
Sean listened carefully, but couldn’t hear a single word of the conversation. Natasha looked distraught and tried to move back. The man with the cigarette advanced threateningly.
Sean tested the door handle. It was unlocked.
He entered the cabin like a whirlwind. On his way past the first man he aimed a savage elbow jab to the windpipe. The second man did not have time to react as Sean unleashed a crunching kick to the groin. As he was about to deliver a second punch to the head, he felt a crushing blow across his shoulders that sent him sprawling across the room. Before he could get up the cigarette man was landing hard kicks, aiming for his head. The blows landed with stunning force. Sean saw the man’s
bulk fill his vision.
Sean rolled away and used the momentum to spring to his feet. Before he completed the move the man was on him, raining iron blows to his head and chest. Sean reacted defensively with a series of blocks and feints, giving him a little time to assess vulnerabilities. His opponent was taller, bigger and faster than Sean and he knew all the moves. He was a ferocious fighter and Sean felt the first stirrings of alarm. He wasn’t defeated yet and in the past he had survived worse attacks than this. But the feeling of dread, once begun, was difficult to shake off.
Sean did not see where the next blow came from. It sent him reeling and he deliberately fell and rolled underneath the wooden table. He continued rolling until he was on the other side, then rose and grasped the table legs. He swung the table towards his attacker, presenting the surface like a shield against the rain of blows. What happened next stunned Sean to his core.
The wood split and a closed fist appeared through the table top, stopping just inches from Sean’s face. The sight of the fist appearing through what should have been an impenetrable shield came as a shock. Instinctively he fell back, bringing the table down with him. As he fell, the splintered wood closed like a vice around the arm of the attacker and drew him down also.
Sean kicked at the legs in front of him, smashing his boots against a knee cap. In a normal man this would be incapacitating, but all Sean heard was a grunt of pain. The man was desperately trying to withdraw his arm from the table, when Sean had an idea. Now on his back, Sean grabbed hold of the arm and pushed it hard up and away from him. The splintered jaws of the hole dug deep into the flesh. As the man groaned in pain again, Sean yanked the arm downward as hard as he could. He was rewarded by the smack of the man’s head against the table top. Sean was about to yank the arm sideways in the hope of dislocating the shoulder blade, when the fist he was holding opened and grabbed him around the throat.
Sean could not believe how strong this man was. The grip around his neck was like nothing he had experienced before. Sean’s breathing became ragged as his throat was compressed. He lashed out with his boots again and heard another grunt as he connected with a shinbone. In the background he registered Natasha’s cries of anguish.
As his breathing slowed, Sean knew he had only seconds left. He could not see much because his eyesight had started to shut down from the lack of oxygen. Sean lifted his legs and positioned his boots underneath the remains of the table. He jerked his legs straight and felt the pressure on his throat increase. He pushed again and slowly felt the man being lifted off the ground. Another huge effort and both man and table described an arc above him. The man landed heavily. Sean quickly got to his feet. The man looked ridiculous with the remains of the table on top of him, arm still thrust through it.
Sean grabbed the arm again just above the wrist and holding it up straight, landed a hard kick connecting with the triceps. There was a snapping sound. Remarkably this only provoked another grunt.
Sean looked around quickly. The other two men were still lying prone on the floor. Natasha reappeared with a large knife from the kitchen which she held out desperately to Sean.
He did not feel like smiling at all, but he could see from Natasha’s white face that she needed some reassurance. Then he saw Natasha’s face change, her mouth about to open with a warning.
It was too late. Sean looked back in time to see one of the prone men withdraw a gun, swinging it around to aim at Sean. Natasha started to move. Whether it was to protect Sean, or to try and wrench the gun away, Sean didn’t know. But he knew he would not be able to get to the gunman in time.
On board the submarine USS Cheyenne the sonar operator spoke into the mile. ‘Con, Sonar. Target roughly 3500 yards, heading 287 degrees. It’s too quiet to get a signature, but the chances are it’s Cetus.’
‘How did it get so close without us noticing?’
‘No idea Captain’ came the reply. ‘Maybe he was lying in wait?’
Captain Sheering snapped on the mike. ‘Fire Control, prepare to launch from tubes 2 and 4. Steer 302 degrees. Make full revolutions. I want to put this thermal layer between us.’
He looked over at his Executive Officer. ‘Any other ideas, John?’ he asked quietly.
The XO paused. ‘We could make this an each way bet’ he said thoughtfully.
Captain Sheering thumbed the mike. ‘Wire guide 2, but make 4 autonomous. Make both active terminal homing.’
The first torpedo would spool a control wire out of the back while it was running and the fire control team could manage its speed and direction until it acquired the target. The second torpedo would be left to its own devices to find and hunt down their attacker – the ‘each way bet’.
‘Con, navigation. Leaving the thermal incline now.’
Immediately Sheering felt the vibration lessen. The XO looked at him quizzically.
‘It’s working John - that layer of warm current is acting like a filter to the sound beam that’s coming our way. It’s spreading it out, like a prism splits up white light.’
The Captain was rewarded by a look of awe from his Executive Officer. Ten seconds later the officer’s expression changed to alarm when they suddenly ran into a wall of vibration that made the whole sub hum.
‘I want to keep that warm current between us.’ The Captain looked across at his XO. ‘It’s important to keep a perspective on this John – it won’t last forever. But while it does we need to change our depth to take into account any vertical or horizontal changes the bastard makes. If he goes up, we go down. If he goes left, we go right.’
‘Like playing round the mulberry bush, sir?’
‘Correct John. Order navigation to follow this current on the opposite side to Cetus. If he crosses over, we cross back. If he goes along one side, we go along the other.’
‘Got that Captain.’ The XO relayed the instructions.
Captain Sheering thumbed the mike again. ‘Give me a report every 30 seconds.’
‘Yes sir’ responded the Fire Control technician. ‘Target moving north. Sir...’, the man stopped to check the readout. ‘It’s moving so fast!’
‘Keep an eye on the son of a bitch, Jones, we mustn’t lose it!’
Sean scooped up the chair beside him. In one movement he twisted like a shot putter at the Olympics and let the chair fly. Immediately he heard a shot and a second later felt a searing pain in his side. The chair missed the gun hand completely, but one of the legs connected with the gunman’s left eye. The man screamed and brought his arm up to protect his face. Sean’s boot connected with the man’s jaw and the gun went spinning away towards the door.
Sean raced after it and picked it up. Keeping one eye on the gunman he righted a chair and made Natasha sit. He then went to each of the men, using the plastic cuffs to tie their hands and legs together.
The table-top man was last. Sean had him down as the leader, Schaeffer. He approached from the side. The man’s eyes were closed and he appeared to be unconscious. Sean began to strap a plastic cuff around his broken arm. While Sean was engaged, Schaeffer’s eyes opened a millimetre, swivelled slowly and focused on Sean. At that moment, the hairs on the back of Sean’s neck literally stood up on end, but the man was already swinging his other good arm. The power of the punch knocked Sean to the floor and then he was on top of him, swinging with his good fist.
Sean nearly blacked out with the force and suddenness of the attack. Blood drained from his head and in a split second he went from feeling light-headed to the edge of unconsciousness. A primitive instinct caused him to roll sideways away from the attack.
Before he could regain his breath, or even attempt to get to his feet, Schaeffer was on him again. A series of hard thuds reminded him that the man was still very much in control. Then a particularly hard kick connected and Sean felt a sharp pain in his side. He continued to roll away from the onslaught. At this point he glimpsed Natasha rising from her chair. She picked up a vase of plastic flowers still standing miraculously on a side table and
brought it crashing down on Schaeffer’s skull.
The man broke off the attack and turned to confront his new adversary.
Sean ignored the pain, swung his legs around in a fast arc, connecting just below and behind Schaeffer’s lower leg. The man sank to his knees and Sean used a closed fist to the man’s already battered face. He saw Schaeffer’s jaw wobble with the force. Amazingly this did not stop the man from getting to his feet, staggering to the door and lurching into the darkness.
Sean struggled to his feet, grabbed his rucksack and ran after him.
Chapter 23
DD switched on the lights and blinked in the harsh white glare. The strip lights showed the room to be thirty feet long and twenty feet wide. Along the back wall stretched a row of communications cabinets, stuffed with networking gear. Cables snaked into the cabinets from the ceiling and LED lights glowed green and orange through the glass doors.
He took out a small laptop computer, no larger than an A5 notepad. Plugging a cable into it, he connected the other end to a spare port on one of the network switches. While he waited for the computer to boot up he hurried over to the next row of cabinets. These contained the servers which ran the network. DD noticed that all of these cabinets had lockable glass doors. Feeling around the top of the cabinet, he found the key and opened the door.
He pulled out a narrow shelf which glided soundlessly out on rollers. A thin screen and keyboard lay flat on the shelf. DD lifted the screen into an upright position, extracted a second small laptop from his bag and set it up alongside the server screen.
Using a combination of keys DD was able to view the console for each server in turn. He examined the A5 laptop that was plugged in to the network in the first cabinet and soon deduced the key server which would authenticate him, giving him access to the network.
Once on the system DD marvelled at the intricate defences the company had constructed. Each of their schemes was laid out before him on the screen, like a map in front of a geologist. Avoiding them, he began the most boring stage of the evening’s work - searching for the information he required. In a way it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. He knew what the needle looked like, but compared to the sheer volume of other digital information on the network there was no easy way to find it quickly.
Silent Warpath (Sean Quinlan Book 1) Page 19