Not So Dead

by Charles Levin

  “Nice night. How’s my hero doing?” she’d said. The image of her on the phone was pretty stunning. She was dressed in a silk robe, sitting propped up on the pillows. Her robe was open just a few inches vertically, revealing just enough of her breasts and her thighs to stir something inside me. Her reddish, blonde hair was liberated and flowing over her right shoulder.

  “It was a really nice night. I’m in a cab crossing the river into Manhattan. Have to say, I’m a bit nervous and apprehensive. I’m feeling that dark cloud circling overhead again.”

  “Maybe I can do something to relieve a little of that tension and those dark thoughts? How long do we have?”

  “Maybe ten minutes, but I’m not sure I can do this.”

  “Sure you can.” She ran her fingers down the edge of her robe. “Would you like to see a little more?”

  Now some other part of me had taken over. I glanced at the taxi driver in the rearview mirror. He was oblivious to me in the backseat. “I sure would.”

  She opened her robe a few inches more and began to slowly stroke her breasts. Then she gently pulled and twisted her nipples, letting out a little moan. “Ummm, how’s that, better?”

  “Yes, much better. Can I see a little more?” I was totally slipping away now.

  “First, tell me. Are you getting hard yet? Let me see.”

  We had only played this game a few times before, but I knew how to do what I was told. It would be worth it. Sweat was starting to bead up on my forehead, despite how cool it was in the cab. I felt the tightness in my pants and pointed the cell phone’s camera at it.

  “Oh, you are hard. Take it out. Let me see.”

  “I’m in the backseat of a cab, I’m not sure –”

  “He won’t see and if he did, I’m sure he’s seen worse.”

  I hesitated, but threw my jacket over my lap, then I unzipped holding the phone so she could see.

  “Umm, that looks so good. I wish I could be there. OK, you’ve been a good boy, so look at me now.” I raised the phone so I could see. She slowly licked her lips. Then she peeled back her robe all the way and slid her hands between her thighs, stroking and swaying her hips, her ample breasts moving up and down with the rhythm. “Oh, that feels so good. Why don’t you join me? Just grab ahold with your free hand and do what I say…”

  I did.

  CHAPTER 82

  LOOK WHAT I FOUND

  I awoke abruptly from my daydream still feeling that sweet, warm feeling. However, the stench of loose bowels, burnt wires and dank water jarred me like smelling salts. I continued to stumble around the server room, moving my flashlight beam up and down the server racks. All the electronics seemed to be destroyed. That meant hard drives and data were gone. Also, I knew that all the young men in the office must have been using dumb terminals, so nothing they did was stored locally. Everything data-wise came and went from this server room. The dumb terminals wouldn’t even have a USB port to plug in a flash drive.

  I turned the corner and started down the next aisle. Same story. Shattered equipment. I mean maybe an expert might be able to recover something from the fried drives, but more than likely the Leopard or his dead IT guy wiped them even before they blew them up. That’s what I’d do.

  As I finished sweeping the last row of servers against the wall, the whole room rumbled. My muscles tightened and I held my breath. Then I realized it must be the subway overhead. At least, I hoped it was. My nerves were frayed enough as it was. As the rumble subsided, there was a bang as if something fell off the back of the rack against the wall. I squeezed around behind the rack and swept my beam up and down. When I swept down, I noticed, tucked behind and underneath the rack, just the corner of a black plastic case jutting out. I stretched my arm out as far as I could toward it, my shoulder wedged between the rack and the wall. I couldn’t reach it as the rack was too close to the wall. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder from my earlier wound. This wasn’t going to work. I looked around for a stick or a broom. On the floor, I found a six foot piece of metal that had been blown off a rack in the explosion. Perfect. It even had a bent end I used to angle the case and finally grab its handle dragging it toward me. It was one of those toughbook laptop computers that had a shock-proof case. Now what? I took the laptop over to a small work surface that was still partially intact, placed the laptop there and lifted the lid.

  Inside I could see a small white power light lit on the keyboard. I felt around for an ON button. A funny thought breezed through my head while I clawed for the button. I remembered the number of times clients called us with “computer problems” and it was because they forgot to turn their computer ON. I had to laugh and here I was with the same problem. Finally, I found a slider switch in back, slid it left and a cursor began to blink on the screen. I was waiting for the customary Windows screen to appear, but it didn’t. Must be Linux. I typed ‘Login’ and hit ENTER. It came back with ‘Username.’ Ok now I was stuck. I didn’t know his password. Time to call in the experts.

  I left the server room, sloshed into the office and called out for Little. Water was still everywhere. I saw two flashlights approaching. It was Little and Al. Little called back over his shoulder, “See if you can get some power on down here or get some floodlights. This is no way to survey a crime scene.” He turned to me. “What is it, Sam?”

  “Look what I found and it works.” I pointed my flashlight down at the laptop in my left hand. “Only problem is we need a password.”

  “Well, that’s helpful. We have a DHS tech van upstairs with a couple of crack NSA guys in it. The good news is we have various agencies all over this with all their resources. The bad news is it’s a command and political shitstorm.”

  “I never thought I’d hear foul language from a straight-up FBI guy.”

  “Screw you. And I’m DHS, not FBI. So there’s a difference.” We all laughed. “Let’s get this upstairs. Maybe if we’re lucky, we can get something out of this before the FBI tries to whisk it away. I have an idea.”

  Little, Al and I got on the elevator and headed up to the lobby. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to leave a place in my life. I was soaked, dirty and probably smelled like a Port-a-Potty on a hot day. We headed through the lobby to the street. Little led us across Broad to a double-parked, unmarked white van. He knocked twice, paused and knocked three times. The rear door swung open.

  “Two raps, then three. High security I see,” I said.

  “They have cameras, Dickhead. They can see who’s coming. I was just knocking on the door.” I think he’d had enough of my sense of humor. Was that why Monica just groans at my jokes?

  Once inside the van, Little said, “This is Gary. Gary meet Sam Sunborn and Detective Al Favor.” We all shook hands. “Did you get that secure phone for Sam here?”

  “Yes, right here.” Gary swiveled his chair around, grabbed a phone, swiveled back and handed it to me. “The password for the phone is the number of your freshman dorm room at college.”

  I squinted in disbelief.

  “We know a lot about everybody so don’t feel too special.”

  Little got back to business. “We recovered this laptop from the lobby. Probably not significant since the scene was ten stories down, but do you guys think you could crack into it for us?”

  Ah, a defensive lie to keep the ball with our team. I knew I liked this guy. Little handed the laptop to a red-haired, bearded guy in a Grateful Dead T-shirt and ripped cargo pants.

  “I’ll have a look. Why’s it wet?” Gary said.

  I jumped in. “Because I was wet from the basement when I came upstairs and found it in the lobby. Guess it rubbed off.” Ha, I can play at this game too.

  Gary just smiled. “You know we have cameras? I saw you guys coming off the elevator with that laptop. Don’t worry. I know what you’re trying to do. I get it. You don’t want the FBI guys taking off with it and then who knows what black hole it goes into. Those guys piss me off too. You guys been in a sewer?” He held his nose.
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  Now it was Little’s turn to smile. “Thanks and yes we have pretty much.”

  Gary opened the laptop. “Besides, I thought DHS reigned supreme over all other agencies. Anyway, what are you guys looking for?”

  “We think the guy who owned this may have been trying to leave us a message.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, he probably wouldn’t want to make it too difficult to get in. The password would just be sound enough to discourage an unwanted intruder.” Gary pulled a flash drive from his beat up backpack on the floor. “This baby can crack ninety percent of passwords.” He plugged it into the laptop and typed in a simple command, STARTNOW. Random numbers and letters seemed to race across the screen as Gary’s program tried various combinations. Then suddenly, the screen lit up. “Did I mention it can crack most passwords in under a minute?”

  We all peered over Gary’s shoulder. Al said, “What is it?”

  “It’s a letter,” I said. Excited I stood up, slamming my head into the roof of the van. “Shit.”

  Little said, “Let me see.” Gary handed the laptop to him and the three of us sat on a bench in the van opposite Gary. Little sat in the middle with the laptop on his lap with Al and me, rubbing my head, on each side. We read the letter.

  Gentlemen,

  If you are reading this, then I have fallen to my inevitable fate. I only hope that you, the reader, can somehow stop what is about to happen. My name is Eskabar and I have been in the employ of Ahmed LaSalam for the last four years. I use the term ‘employ’ loosely as I was given no choice. Either I setup this data center and carry out his commands or my family would suffer cruel deaths. I have seen the brutality that this man is capable of and have no doubt that he would have carried out his threat. This is no excuse for my behavior or the damage that my actions may have caused. As a husband and father, I would do whatever I must to protect my family.

  All I know is that within three days, the plan is to sabotage or attack something nuclear. Like 9/11 and other plots, there will be multiple attacks at multiple locations. Unfortunately, I do not know the locations or the men carrying out these attacks. I do know that one attack will be in New York, another in California and perhaps another in France. I can only surmise this from bits of conversations I either overheard or texts I intercepted. Mentions of “coast-to-coast” and “our French brothers” plus other mentions lead me to this. I don’t have the time to provide more proof or detail on this. I can only tell you that there is another data center like mine, maybe smaller, near Boston. It is the only possible lead I can give you as to his possible location. May God bless you and give you the strength and courage to stop the suffering he has planned. Inshallah.

  If it is LaSalam reading this, I beg your mercy. I have followed all your commands, you have clearly won and put an end to me. Please, sire, spare my family.

  - E.

  CHAPTER 83

  ALPHABET SOUP

  Longford paced the Situation Room. She was used to getting facts and making decisions on those facts. She sometimes made mistakes, but she always felt somewhat in control of the process. Here there were too many moving parts, too many people involved, and she was new at this. “Any updates or news?”

  Hager cleared his throat. “We have DHS, NSA and FBI on this. They’re in lower Manhattan. There’s word of some activity or an incident, perhaps an explosion. It’s still too early to tell.”

  “So we have thrown alphabet soup at this. Great. Sorry. It’s just frustrating. I wish there was more we could do.”

  “Sometimes all you can do is send your best people and resources, trust them and wait.”

  “That’s good advice and I’m sure you want to calm me down. I’ve just never been a very patient person. Sometimes impatience has served me well. Other times, waiting just drives me crazy.”

  “Understood, Madame President.”

  “Let’s think about this. If the Russians, Chinese and even the freakin’ North Koreans can hack our servers, is there any way for us to hack these terrorist servers? Can’t we detect their activity?”

  “Worth a discussion for sure. I’ll call in the head of our Cyber Command, Jules Keystone.” Hager started tapping away on his Blackberry.

  “Are we really still using Blackberries? In a world where cutting edge tech can make all the difference, we’re still in the Stone Age. You know I spent a day on a Los Angeles Class Nuclear Sub, and they had Dell laptops sitting on top of their consoles because their built-in systems were too antiquated. So they used the laptops to do their calculations and then typed the results into their old systems. We’ve got to do something about that. Can’t we do better?”

  “I agree. I’ll talk to Congress. Um, uh, perhaps you should talk to Congress.”

  “Why don’t you talk to Congress? You’re up there testifying on one thing or another all the time. OK, sorry for the digression. Get Keystone up here. We have nothing better to do than save our country from attack right now. How fast can we get him here?”

  “Madame President, if I may…” Hager punched a button on the Cisco Telepresence keyboard in front of him. A young man appeared on the wall screen in a T-shirt with faint beard stubble and piercing blue eyes.

  “Madame President, I apologize for my appearance. We don’t wear uniforms here. Everyday is dress-down Friday, or we can’t attract the nerdy geniuses we need to do this kind of work.”

  “I understand. I can’t remember the last time I had a dress-down Friday. Are you aware of the threat we’re facing?”

  “Yes, I have a unit of three of my best hunting down LaSalam as we speak.”

  “Why only three? This is a national security priority.”

  “More than three and people tend to get in each other’s way. We’ve studied the perfect team size for both offense and defense. Three is the optimal number.”

  “OK, I’ll take your word for it, Jules. What have you found so far?”

  “Well, interestingly enough, we’ve tapped into our own DHS van on Broad Street in lower Manhattan. They’ve just hacked into one of the bad guy’s laptops. They’re reading a letter right now that indicates LaSalam may be on his way to Boston. Also, that he might be planning a multipronged nuclear event of some kind.”

  “Hager, why are we hearing about this just now and from Jules?”

  Jules interrupted, “Madame President, if I may. This is what we do. We try to tap every source, friend or foe, to put together a picture. We hacked a camera in the FBI van and are literally looking over their shoulders right now. So this is very new info.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring.”

  CHAPTER 84

  POSSIBILITIES

  “Based on what you just read, what do you make of it, Gary?” Little said. Smart. Ask the new guy with fresh eyes.

  “OK. He says it’s something nuclear. What’s nuclear? Aircraft carriers, submarines, bombs, missiles and power plants. If you’re a terrorist and could somehow launch our own missiles against us, that would be pretty devastating.”

  “How about a dirty bomb or three? You know, just blast a bunch of radioactive material into the air and poison thousands,” I said.

  “I know what a dirty bomb is,” said Little.

  “How about we call in Frank for an opinion? He can run the scenarios much faster and better than we can,” Al said.

  Somehow this van was feeling really claustrophobic. Maybe it was the close quarters, but more likely it was the enormity of the problem expanding inside this small box. I began to sweat through my wet smelly clothes. Lovely. Frank was the right guy for this. “Gary, can you bring up this website in Tor, a secure anonymous browser window.” I handed Gary a slip of paper—that’s one thing you can’t hack.

  Gary began to type. “I know what Tor is.” But before he could open a new window, Gary’s screen flickered and Frank appeared. “Whoa. How’d that happen and who’s this guy?”

  “Gary, my name is Frank. I’m an Einstein.” Frank smiled on the screen. “Hi guys. I’ve b
een monitoring your activities both inside and outside the building. Pretty nasty down there.”

  I had not shared with Al and Little that I had been wearing a tracking device, as Frank insisted for my safety. It also allowed him to access cameras around me to keep up to date and tip me off to impending dangers. “Frank, am I glad to see you! Let me bring you up to date.”

  “Not necessary. I monitored all your conversations in the building and the basement. I also hacked the camera in the van and read the letter over your shoulder.”

  Gary was turning beet red. “I repeat, who is this guy?”

  I knew I did not want to fully read Gary in. He did not need to know Frank was a DigiPerson. Gary could just assume Frank was teleconferencing in to us. “That’s Frank Einstein. So yes he is an Einstein in both senses of the name. He works with us. He has some special, umm, cyber-talents.”

  Frank jumped in. “I’m afraid we don’t have much time for introductions or pleasantries, Gary. I worked for DARPA and have some high-level clearances. It was a bit too easy to hack your van’s camera. You’ll be interested to know that Defense’s Cyber Command has hacked your camera as well as some other anonymous user. So you can bet that Defense and perhaps the White House are up to date on your activities. I’m more concerned about the anonymous hack, but I’m working on that. In the meantime, I’ve taken your camera offline and secured our current communications so we can talk without eavesdroppers.”

  Gary calmed down. “I’m impressed, but—”

  I cut him off. We needed to focus now. “Frank, what do you make of the letter, the ‘nuclear’ reference and possible Leopard location?”

  “Sure, throw a few things at me at once. You know how well I multitask. First, I think the letter is genuine. The circumstances surrounding it, his death and your discovery of the laptop are too low a probability to have been a planned-in-advance diversion. Assuming then that the letter is real, let’s focus on the ‘nuclear’ question. Gary’s list is a good one. Filtering the possibilities based on maximum damage to civilians, I’d narrow the list to three: hacked nuclear missile, dirty bombs—that’s plural for the letter’s reference to multipronged attacks—and power plants.”