by Park, J. R.
In the past opposing armies would take geographical strong points, block trade routes and attack command buildings. In modern warfare the first thing you are going to hit are the computer infrastructures.
Take their secrets and disable their communications.
Nuclear and chemical weapons are no longer the biggest threat. In today’s world the biggest weapon of mass destruction is simply a piece of computer coding.’
Jon looked at the other two, it was a long time since he’d talked to anyone about this and part of him was enjoying giving the explanation, ‘Now if you set the Death’s Head up with a target it can use face recognition to track you on CCTV cameras in streets and shops. It can even use the cameras built in to home computers provided they’re connected to the internet. It can look at your purchases and bank statements, look for patterns of where you spend your money and when, then work out where you might be or are likely to show up.
It can hack into social media and look at your friends. It can then trace them to find you, or if that doesn’t work it can put them in peril to bring you out of hiding. If it puts your mother in hospital chances are you will turn up there at some point. I’ll admit it’s sinister, but very clever.’
‘This morning Detective Norton got a phone call from his dead girlfriend,’ Orchid asked, ‘do you think that had anything to do with the Death’s Head program?’
‘It’s possible. If it was trying to find you it may have traced her via social media. It obviously hadn’t crossed referenced its find with the death records, so maybe there are still a few bugs in the system. Either that or the records haven’t been updated yet.’ Jon drifted off in thought for a moment then came back, ‘Careful about answering your phone. It can use it as a weapon just like it uses a computer.’
‘Is there a way of tracing and destroying it?’ Norton realised this was going to take more than a vice in a garage.
‘You won’t be able to trace it, no. It can move through all systems and deletes itself from them when finished leaving no impression behind. Utterly undetectable,’ Jon looked up from the lamp, ‘but there is a way to destroy it. Once they started testing the thing on real human subjects I realised what I had done. I didn’t want to be a part of it, that’s why I fled the city and moved here. I wanted to be as far away from a plug socket and telephone cable as I could get.
But before I left I created another program, an antivirus if you will, something to stop my terrible creation. Another clever piece of kit. It attracts the Death’s Head program by pretending to be the target then sends out signals that the target has been killed. This in turn sets off the self-delete program in the Death’s Head. The beauty of it is that once uploaded, and with a permanent web presence, it will eliminate this evil computer program forever. Each time they send it out this will wipe it. I called it the Flame.’
‘Like a moth to the flame,’ Norton thought out loud, ‘very clever.’
‘Very artistic,’ mocked Orchid.
‘We are all artists in our own little way,’ mused Jon. ‘There is nothing wrong with a flourish.’
‘But why didn’t you upload the Flame and rid the world of the Death’s Head program?’ quizzed Norton.
‘It was a risk even trying to make it and go unnoticed. My plan was simple, to leave and don’t bother them. That way I knew they’d leave me in peace. Which they did, up until now,’ Jon stroked the curly knots of his beard.
Norton stood up to stretch his legs. ‘Do you have the Flame?’ he asked.
‘No I entrusted it to my nephew. He’s a simple lad, but with a good heart. He doesn’t even know he has it,’ the stroking motion on Jon’s beard became much slower as he gave up the secret he had never let pass his lips before. ‘During my years in research I found the best form of secret keeper is one totally unaware they have a secret to keep.’
‘I knew it!’ Orchid rose to her feet in excitement. ‘I knew he had something to do with it!’
‘You know him?’ Norton looked surprised by her sudden outburst.
‘Gregory Light. I found him when I hunted through Jon’s files,’ Orchid explained. ‘There was no proof or evidence to link him other than the family connection, but I just knew there was something there. I’ve been searching his flat for weeks!’
Suddenly it dawned on Norton, ‘Gregory Light? Mr Light?!’ He stuttered as he made the words form in his mouth, ‘You’re the stalker? With the impossibly long legs?’
The description fits, he thought, as he sat back on the crate and chuckled to himself.
They needed a plan, and as they sat discussing it in the dimly lit bunker, waiting for a safe time to leave, one began to form.
If it weren’t for the watches they wore, they would have lost track of time hidden in the bunker, the stronghold that Jon had built under his shack. He had feared an attack from someone; you don’t work so closely with the most advanced and potentially damaging weapons system and not come into contact with people that would rather have you dead. His fears had been founded and his escape plan had worked well. It wasn’t until twelve hours had passed that he felt it was safe to show his two visitors the way out. The search parties of their aggressors would have seen the devastation and when they had not found any bodies or people trying to flee they would have assumed they were successful. That level of bombing would have burnt away most corpses. What was left would be hard to differentiate between animal flesh and human flesh after it was splattered into tiny pieces of charred matter. Jon felt sorry for the loss of his animals, but during his time living in the countryside he had developed a new found understanding and closer relationship with nature. He respected death and was philosophical about the need for change in whatever form it took.
When the time was right he guided the detective and the mercenary out through a reinforced shaft that was hidden on the other side of the room. The shaft had been far enough away to escape the majority of the explosive forces; the minor shockwaves it had felt were withstood by the metal casing Jon had spent months secretly work on.
It wasn’t an easy route back to the surface as the foliage around the exit had been allowed to grow wild in order to conceal itself on the side of the hill. The plan had worked enough to fool their would-be killers, but it did mean an extra thirty minutes of hacking, slashing and pulling. Jon always carried a small knife with him, but was pleased, as well as surprised, that the beautiful Japanese lady had a pair of much larger knives with her. They made short work of the vegetation that prevented their escape, and it would have taken a few more hours had she not been with them.
By the time they left the tunnel it was dark and around two in the morning. Thankfully the new moon meant they had as much chance of going undetected as possible.
Jon’s philosophical nature did not change when they arrived back at the remains of the shack. Pieces of sheet metal, wood and feathers were scattered amidst impact craters from where the bombs had hit.
‘They certainly weren’t taking any chances,’ said Jon as he surveyed the site, one hand holding his hat, the other scratching his head.
‘I’m sorry Jon,’ Orchid spoke softly and sympathetically.
‘Oh don’t worry about it,’ he said strangely chipper, ‘it’s dry and warm. I’ll rebuild. It’s the way of things. Besides I was getting sick of the view. Time to move on anyway.’
Orchid and Norton said their goodbyes and set off on the walk back to the main road. As they left, Norton looked back, envious of Jon’s freedom and his easy manner in which he dealt with loss.
‘It’s a long walk back then,’ Norton pointed out as they walked past a smouldering crater full of rubble where once Orchid’s newly acquired Porsche stood.
‘Yeah it’s a long way all right,’ sighed Orchid.
They were a mis-matched pair as they walked along the road; hitch hiking their way back to the city. The journey took them hours and conversation cropped up between them as a means to keep them both motivated and entertained.
‘So how
long have you been following Mr Light?’ Norton had to ask after the revelation in the bunker.
‘I was keeping him under surveillance for a couple of weeks,’ she replied as they slowly walked along the side of the road, ‘watching his movements and searching his belongings.’
‘And his underwear drawer?’ Norton chuckled as he said it.
‘You have to be thorough!’ she protested, laughing and scowling at him in equal measure.
She looked at him and smiled, he smiled back.
‘How did you know it was him you had to follow,’ Norton returned back to the conversation in hand.
‘I did a check on Newman’s family connections and searched them all,’ she explained, ‘but Light was different. I couldn’t find any dirt on him but something bugged me, I just knew…’ she trailed off for a moment, ‘Call it intuition, a feeling, but I knew he was connected. That’s something a computer can’t pick up on.’
The sun began to rise, revealing a landscape of lush fields covering gently rising hills like a patchwork cloth, separated by thick hedges. With it, the warmth began to thaw the ground and their toes. They held their thumbs out as cars drove by hoping a kind soul would take them back to the city.
‘This saving the world stuff is glamorous work,’ joked Norton as they trudged on.
‘Sure is,’ came the reply from a weary Orchid.
By the time they got back to the city via a few friendly drivers the day was in full swing. Jon had filled them in on the types of dangers to watch out for. It was imperative to only use cash to buy things, no electronic trace, he had warned. They bought hats and long coats so as to avoid their faces being caught on CCTV as much as they could. The Death’s Head program would be monitoring the cities security cameras, running facial recognition programs on each person it viewed in order to find them. They tried to avoid streets with cameras on all together, making their route to Mr Light’s apartment via back alleys. These streets were left unprotected, a place where the dregs of society could be free from the watchful eye of the authorities. This was the dwelling place of the homeless, the hooker, the drug dealer and the daytime drinker. A place you’d find the banker looking for a cheap thrill. This was where all the unwatched go to live their lives in freedom.
Norton wondered as he made his way through this landscape with a wanted hit woman why the law-abiding citizens couldn’t be granted this kind of privacy?
‘This is the back of Ashgate Place. Mr Light’s flat is up there,’ Orchid informed him as she opened the metal cage door that led to the rusty fire escape which zig-zagged up the building, ‘number sixteen.’
Norton followed her up as she counted the floors. They got to the fourth floor then she stopped and opened the fire door. They made their way along the hall to the entrance of Mr Light’s flat.
‘He’s not in,’ she said confidently, ‘he’s always out until eleven.’
Norton took a run up at the door and rammed his shoulder hard against it. He bounced off whilst the door stayed firmly in place. He rubbed his shoulder; the bruising from all those fights had taken its toll and this building had better landlords.
‘He also never locks his door,’ Orchid smiled and turned the handle, gently opening the door.
The flat was tidy and bright. The sun shone through the windows, casting a beam of light onto a coffee table that took centre place in the middle of the room.
‘Right, we need to get looking,’ said Norton.
‘You handle in here,’ Orchid pointed at the bookcase in the living room, ‘and I’ll handle in there,’ she pointed to the bedroom.
They searched the flat for an hour but could not find anything. It wasn’t a large dwelling with only a hallway, a living room, a small kitchen, a smaller bathroom and a bedroom.
‘The problem is,’ Norton huffed in frustration, ‘I don’t really know what I’m looking for.’
‘Jon said look for the Flame, it will be obvious,’ Orchid’s voice showed signs of equal frustration.
‘Jon Newman is a crackpot living in the country,’ he sighed. ‘We don’t even know if he really invented the Flame or the Death’s Head program. He could have been spouting a load of horse shit for all we know.’
Their argument was cut short when the door handle to the front of the flat began to squeak as it turned. Someone was coming in!
Gregory Light had just come back from his morning walk around town. It was a sunny day and he’d stopped to watch the water dance in the fountains by the Hengrove Hotel. He liked the way the ripples and reflections of light seemed to move together. He hadn’t gone far as it took him a while to walk anywhere now a days; his leg seemed to be getting worse. He put his keys on the coffee table and felt the warmth of the sunrays beam through his window.
The last few days had been peaceful. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the Asian woman that had been following him around recently. He’d half expected to see her behind every door he opened, but those notions had slowly faded since his last sighting. It seemed she had given up.
He opened his bedroom door and quickly realised he had been very wrong about that.
On his bed lay the same beautiful woman. She was dressed only in a lacy, black bra and thong. His eyes followed the curves of her bosom, then traced the hourglass turn of her stomach and hips. She suggestively parted her legs and he watched as she slid her hand down her silky thigh, leaving it to rest on the warm, lace underwear that covered her crotch. She gently stroked herself playfully with her fingertips and with perfect, full lips she whispered, ‘Where have you been?’
Orchid got to her hands and knees and slowly crawled across the bed towards him. She took him by the shoulders and with surprising strength pulled him onto the bed. She lay back and guided him on top of her, instantly feeling his erection poking her thigh through his trousers.
Orchid looked over Light’s shoulder to where Norton was hiding behind the door. She mouthed the words now and help me, but was only met with a cheeky smile and an okay sign.
Fearing to break the pretence she carried on and pushed his head between her breasts. His tongue licked against her bosom as his fingers began to slide up her thigh.
‘All right sunshine, that’s enough,’ Norton’s voice came booming from behind him and instantly the pair froze.
‘Thank God,’ Orchid cursed as she got up from the bed and threw a piece of rope toward Norton. ‘Tie him up. I’m going to put my clothes back on.’
Norton tied Mr Light securely to a chair he had taken from the kitchen and began to question him. The bald man looked confused and said he knew nothing about any Flame, and neither had he seen Uncle Jon in years. Constant questioning yielded the same answers.
The two captors walked back into the living room and shut the bedroom door; they didn’t want him to hear their conversation.
‘Well it’s obvious he doesn’t know anything,’ Norton said pacing the room.
Orchid sat on the sofa, dejected and in agreement, ‘So what are we going to do?’ she said. ‘We can’t leave him like that!’
‘I don’t know,’ Norton idly looked out the window searching for inspiration amongst the pedestrians walking below.
‘It has to be here,’ Orchid held her head in her hands and talked at the floor.
‘Does it?’ replied Norton, his gaze lost to the moving throng of people outside. ‘It doesn’t have to be anywhere. It doesn’t have to exist. Why didn’t Jon just tell us out right where it was?’
‘He was paranoid, and had every right to be,’ Orchid grew impatient with Norton questioning the only lead they had. ‘He felt honest and I trust my hunches. They’ve done me pretty well so far.’
‘Well it’s not helping right now with Jon’s bloody riddle is it?’ Norton turned from the window and faced his make shift companion. ‘Look towards the light and you’ll see the flame,’ he quoted.
‘This is Light’s flat I get that bit,’ Orchid’s voice became strained.
‘Crock of shit,’ Norton huffed, �
�I’m sick and tired of looking at that man.’
‘But this is the only bit of hope we’ve got-’ Orchid was cut off mid-sentence by a noise from another room.
Clunk!
The noise came from the bedroom. Norton and Orchid looked at each other for answers but neither had any. Immediately realising this they both ran to the source of the sound and where their prisoner was held. They found Mr Light still tied to the chair but laid on his side, his face squashed into the carpet where he fell. Next to him was a mobile phone, the screen was illuminated and the caller number was visible: it read 999. A voice could be heard coming from the speaker.
‘Hello?’ the voice said from the phone. ‘Hello? Are you there? We have traced you from your mobile and we’ll be sending a police car over. Please respond if you are there.’
‘Shit,’ cried Orchid as she picked up the phone and turned it off.
‘We’ve got about fifteen minutes tops to get out of here,’ said Norton as he looked at his watch.
‘Why did you do that?’ Orchid spoke to Mr Light as she crouched down next to him.
As the simple man lay helpless on the floor Orchid noticed a chain around his neck. She pulled it out from his shirt and attached to it she saw a silver pendant in the shape of fire. Hoping she was right Orchid examined the pendant further and found she could slide up the back panel revealing a USB connector. It was the Flame.
Norton and Orchid bolted down the fire escape, the Flame safely tucked into one of Orchid’s pockets. Mr Light did not have a computer in his flat so they needed somewhere with Internet access where they could plug the USB in, release the antivirus and put an end to the computer generated threat.
‘Damn it, we’ve been spotted,’ cried Orchid as she pointed down the street.
A police car had pulled up answering the 999 call. Orchid had seen the young constable emerge from his car and immediately clocked them running down the fire escape. He was talking into his radio in a matter of seconds. With Norton and Orchid’s names mentioned down the airwaves it wouldn’t be long before every uniformed patrol was out looking for them along with Royal and his men from the MI5.