‘I know, very underhand approach I thought,’ said Angus, ‘still I told them I’d never agree to Athena being used as a weapon against civilian populations, Hell, if you attack vital services it’s the civilian populations that suffer, not the politicians making the decisions.’
‘I’ll bet that didn’t go down well.’
‘No, it didn’t. Still they still keep raising the subject with me from time to time, muttering about national security and then in the same breath national interests. Anyway, long and short of it is we’re in a stand-off over the issue at present. But, as you can see, although Athena was developed quite specifically as a project defend banks from hackers, almost overnight it became probably the most desirable piece of weaponry one could get – on everyone’s shopping lists – far more powerful than anything that all those dreadful arms dealers can offer. And of course, the internet being what it is this news of its existence got out. That’s why we had move and hide Athena and the team somewhere far from London. I immediately thought of my father’s huge castle sitting there virtually empty on its remote island, difficult to get to, easy to defend.’
‘How did he feel about that; I mean moving a whole team in on him?’
‘Very happy as it happens – said it would bring new life to the place and he and my mother have since become firm friends with the professor and his wife – so it’s all worked out well. All of the necessary and very extensive alterations to the castle were funded by the Towneley Bank and our conglomerate partners. As you’ll see for yourself later today, it’s become a wonderful place to live and work.’
‘So why the extra commotion about Athena this morning in particular, I think panic was the word you used?’
‘As Athena’s become a major part of this country’s cyber-defenses, a small team at GCHQ has been assigned specifically to keep a watch for any references to its name cropping up on the internet or in telecoms traffic; after all, even rumors of its existence has had the unfortunate effect that a large number of people would want to acquire it – and by that I mean steal it. Some of these people will do almost anything to get a hold of it. I think also that one day they’ll suddenly turn to me and tell me of a specific threat which could be dealt with by Athena and get me to agree to use it as a weapon of attack that way.’
‘I see, so what happened this morning?’
‘GCHQ found a blogger on the internet who was speculating about a new weapon that had been developed – he was obviously referring to Athena, though he doesn’t know its name – and he said that he thinks that when it’s found, it will make other peoples’ cyber-weapons look like bows-and-arrows; the problem is that this blogger’s mere speculation is correct. It just gives us yet another problem as it suddenly attracted a very unwelcome amount of traffic to his site and blog.’
‘So what did GCHQ suggest?’
‘They say that most the internet chatter about Athena, is coming from Russia but that there are conversations with New York as well; two connected organisations they think. So the two of us need to get up to Craithe where we can talk this situation through with the team and look again at our defences. It’s now not just keeping back-ups of Athena for our own use, more importantly it’s a question of keeping anyone else from getting their hands on it.’
Angus Macrae’s introduction of Athena to Kim was interrupted by the arrival of the helicopter taking them to Craithe. Their luggage was ready and quickly loaded into the helicopter by the bank staff. Kim could not hide a degree of excitement in all of this – being promoted into the secret world of Athena and off to meet the team she had spoken to so often when they were needing to speak to Angus on the Isle of Man.
After take-off, they skirted the island’s highest peak, Snaefell and she then peered out over the north Irish Sea as the helicopter flew them low to keep visual track of progress beneath the scudding clouds. The flight took them due north from the Isle of Man up to Crinan at the top of the Mull of Kintyre, once a small fishing village but now a center for tourism, with yachts and pleasure craft moored ready for the summer season due to start at Easter in three weeks’ time.
The helicopter was driven on by the strong south to westerly winds and during the flight the pilot, a regular on this route taking Angus home, received news that the weather was too bad to try and land at the castle on Craithe and that arrangements had already been made to send the Laird’s retired Arun class lifeboat, the Louisa, from Craithe island to Crinan to collect them there.
On arriving at Crinan they flew in low as the clouds were still dropping, now touching the tops of the higher hills around the coast. Eventually, at less than a couple of hundred feet and with the wind gusting at forty or fifty miles an hour above the seas, whipping them up, giving them white-tops and filling the air near the quay with fine spray, the helicopter swung low towards the large white building of the Crinan Hotel.
As soon as they were safely on the tarmac, their baggage was carried down to the Louisa by Sandy Grieg her skipper and a couple of members of the crew. There was no time to waste as a combination of the strong winds and the tide running in from the same direction might make the infamous gulf of Corryvreckan impassable even for the Louisa. All craft other than the Louisa and the Oban Lifeboat from just up the coast had already been banned from travelling through it. They scurried from the helicopter down to the quay, a fine rain driving into them, stinging their faces.
Once on board with all their baggage, Sandy got willing helpers to help cast the Louisa off and Kim and Angus stood up in the front on the bridge with him as he nudged her away and out into the loch. The deep growl of the twin diesels, coming from the surge of some fifteen hundred horsepower, soon took her out into Crinan Loch and soon up to more than twenty knots. As she wallowed and heaved her way through the mounting waves, she headed slightly north of west towards the gulf. As they approached the narrow passage between the islands of Jura and Scarba, the crests of the waves were entirely white and the gathering gale whipped spray off their crests and hurled it in wild flurries that occasionally smashed into the glass in front of them or swept on past into the darkening seas behind.
Immediately beyond the gulf Angus pointed out the massive craggy mountain peaks of Craithe and, towering above the small town of Stanleytoun, the great bulk of Craithe Castle, Angus’s home and that of the Athena team. As they approached the narrowest point of the gulf, Angus raised his arm and pointed out the Corryvreckan itself.
Kim took in a sharp breath. She had been told a bit about the Corryvreckan, the world’s third largest marine whirlpool system, but she not expected quite such a truly awesome sight. The whirlpool itself consisted of a wide depression in the sea, not particularly deep but maybe a couple of hundred yards across; it was filled with churning waves. Every now and then these conflicting waters, many of them appearing to be travelling in opposite directions to each other at maybe eight to ten knots, would meet head-on, suddenly creating standing waves which rose up against each other as if in some primeval test of strength; they appeared to struggle for a few seconds only to subside again and be replaced by another pair nearby.
Most of the other waves were well over eight feet from trough to crest and it was only thanks to the Louisa’s exceptionally wide seventeen-foot beam that she seemed largely unaffected by the turmoil around her. But, although she bowed, wallowed and carved her way ahead, she was forced to drop to only half-speed. In her progress, she threw up huge amounts of water and sometimes these great sheets of the blue-green sea were hurled clear over the bridge itself landing over the back of the stern. From time to time the bows vanished into an oncoming wave, remaining frighteningly hidden within a wall of water until its sheer force hurled them back up again, throwing yet another great volume of water against the glass in front of them. It was all Kim could do to suppress her natural reaction of putting up a defensive arm as she saw these masses of water coming straight at them.
After what seemed an interminable length of time, the Louisa came through th
e maelstrom and into slightly less violent water; and though the seas were still running towards them, driven on by the tide and wind, the Louisa was able to make up some speed again. All the while the Castle loomed before them, just beyond the little harbor of Stanleytoun. It was a quite extraordinary sight. A mixture of a great mediaeval fortress and a children’s book fairytale castle, several great rounded towers with castellated tops but here and there smaller turrets topped by pretty conical roofs of blue-grey slate. Angus had once explained photographs of it to Kim. A Macrae three hundred and fifty years earlier had married Louise, the daughter of John Stanley, seventh Earl of Derby and his wife Charlotte, daughter of a French Duke. The Stanleys were amongst the richest families in England at the time – the sixteen-forties – which explained the magnificence of the turrets and castellation not just on the four main towers but along the tops of all the massive walls as well. Angus had explained to her that Louise Stanley’s improvements to what before her arrival and marriage to the Macrae of the time had transformed a large clan stronghold into what she could now see, an enchanting yet daunting fortress unlike almost any other on the west coast.
Having been unable to get to the island by helicopter because of the weather and having just experienced the trip to the island through the Corryvreckan, Kim now understood what Angus had meant about it being easier to protect Athena and the team here, off the rugged western coast of Scotland than in even the most cleverly disguised hideaway in London.
A Land Rover had come down from the castle to meet them by the quayside in Stanleytoun pretty little harbor. Although the weather had moderated in that the stinging wind-driven rain had stopped, it was still blowing hard as they transferred their luggage from the Louisa to the car. As they set off for the climb up to the castle, Kim was told to sit up front so that she could watch journey up from the small town to the castle and on the slippery cobbled way, the wheels spun on a couple of occasions as they wound their way round sharp corners on the steep gradients.
On reaching the massive gatehouse, Angus leant forward from the seat behind her and told her that this was the only way into the castle other than climbing over the top of the forty to fifty foot outer walls which completely surrounded the fortress. It consisted of a vast sixty-foot wide block of granite pierced only by the ten-foot wide by fifteen-foot tall entrance itself; above this comparatively small gap, other fifty feet of sheer wall rose, pierced only by slits from which to fire defensive arrows.
‘So all of the tourists wanting to see over the castle, they have to come through here?’ she asked.
‘Yes that’s right; we set up a small table here under the main archway and they file past to pay their modest entrance fees,’ replied Angus.
‘So, from a security point of view,’ continued Kim, ‘it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep an eye out for people likely to be after Athena.’
‘Well that would certainly be the case if we had a scanner that could identify potential thieves,’ laughed Angus. ‘Sorry to mock your remark,’ he quickly added, ‘especially as we do keep as close an eye as we can on people as they file through. I have to admit though that professional security people would hardly regard visual checking as any real safeguard for Athena.’
Kim smiled at the thought of trying to pick out potential thieves from queues of people filing past a trestle table paying their entrance fees. She rather guessed that Angus would have some rather more high-tech solutions to this problem – as indeed he did, though not just here at the entrance gateway.
Chapter 4
8pm Friday 4 March
Romano’s, Tverskaya, Moscow
As soon as his restaurant got the dinner booking, Romano personally set Komarov and Silayev’s usual table as they were far and away his most important and best paying customers. Quite how he had discovered that the one of them was chief fixer to the President and the other the head of Moscow’s largest organized crime group he no longer cared to remember, but his discretion and the table’s particular location suited well these two’s often unusual conversations.
Anton Silayev, who lived nearby was first to arrive. Though he had started his adult career in what had been quite a small mafia business, it grew rapidly as Russia threw off the shackles of the past and crashed into the twenty-first century, awash with bling and cash. By now, Silayev had toned down his appearance, dispensed with a former surfeit of gold about his body and, to fit in better with those in big business with whom he now mixed, he dressed like them too. His black hair was still slicked back, however, coated in some expensive unguent and his dreadful selection of ties also harked back to his earlier, brasher days.
Komarov arrived perhaps five minutes later and as soon as he was seated Romano came rushing over, rubbing his hands together, awash with smiles and compliments. These went unnoticed by his two important guests as their attention was on the slim distinctive bottle of Stolichnaya Elit Vodka that Romano had left earlier at the table but had remained untouched in the ice-bucket until this moment. Romano himself now opened it and poured two glasses before leaving his guests to their first drinks.
Menus were not even offered as the two of them invariably had the same food every time they came here; the only reference to the normally lengthy process of looking through menus was an almost imperceptible ‘Your usuals?’ question from Romano as he left them. He did not even appear to wait for an answer.
The preliminaries out of the way, Komarov leant forward towards Silayev. ‘Sorry I couldn’t go into more details with you over the telephone but though I know my call couldn’t possibly be bugged, I have to say that I’m getting a touch paranoid these days.’
‘Well I can help you get over your paranoia,’ said Silayev. ‘We have made some good progress thanks to the information we got off Bazarov’s computer and his files. But before I tell you about that, did the president agree that only the two of us and our organisations are going to fill the gap left by his disappearance? I mean do we have the sole monopoly on this Athena project?’
‘He did,’ said Komarov. ‘Though he warned me that keeping it exclusive to ourselves would be entirely down to us. I suppose that’s pretty obvious as there’s no way he could make a gift of it is there? I mean if Bazarov could find it – presumably on the internet or the dark net – the chances of it remaining a secret to everyone else are nil.’
Silayev drained his glass of vodka and poured more for each of them. ‘Right, I suppose I expected something like that so shall we move onto his laptop and files?
Komarov nodded a yes as he took another swig of his drink.
We’ve had some real breakthroughs you’ll be glad to hear,’ continued Silayev. ‘Firstly, there was a mass of great technical about this weapon – most of it from a report to some UK minister of state. I can confirm that it’s called Athena, named that by the team that developed it. And, yes, Bazarov was right to tell the president that it could tackle and get access to just about anything in the West that he liked; also right were his verbal pictures of a UK or an Eastern US Seaboard with no Electricity thanks to Athena; its ability to shut off their power supplies or anything else run by computers for that matter is not in dispute – all confirmed by test data and so on.’
‘Good. Though I wouldn’t understand any technical jargon, can you tell me just simply how this Athena thing works? I’m absolutely certain nothing else could do what you’ve just described,’ said Komarov.
‘To kind-of answer that question I need to tell you that there are more than forty pages of closely described technical information. Even after my tech director had been through some of it, I was still none the wiser. So, to set your mind at rest but without going into the techno-speak, it combines the very latest quantum computer technology and its clever bit is that it’s inventors have found a way of synergizing the workings of the old digital which still runs everything today with the new quantum which will eventually replace it – a very clever and they believe unique combination of the two technologies, the current an
d the completely new.’
‘You’ve practically lost me already,’ said Komarov.
‘I know. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to accept that it does what it does and there’s currently no defense against it and of course that’s what Bazarov said the president would get and why he wants it. The good news is that from the files, we now have the address in London where the team first worked on this project,’ said Silayev as though he had just pulled a rabbit from a hat.
‘Excellent,’ said Komarov. ‘So, with our resources it shouldn’t be too difficult to find it now that we have a starting point.’
‘Yes, and having found it we steal it, and as soon as we’ve got our hands on it we exploit it to the benefit of the President, Mother Russia and ourselves but in reverse order.’
‘Exactly,’ said Komarov topping up their vodkas and waving his usual gesture to Romano that they were now ready for their food and would also soon also be ready for their first bottle of wine.
‘But that’s not all,’ said Silayev, ‘I kept the best discovery to the last.’
‘What? More good news?’
‘The best. Bazarov had found that the Bank of England want Athena installed into all the most important banks in the City of London – the five big ones and some others which if brought down could pose a risk of a more general collapse.’
‘And?’
‘And listen to this,’ said Silayev, ‘to ensure they all comply by installing Athena, the Bank of England is holding a conference on Good Friday – that’s just three weeks away.’
‘Why the Friday, won’t that be what they call a bank holiday in the UK?’
‘It will and Bazarov reckoned that’s done on purpose as the markets will be closed and won’t be spooked by whatever is announced at the conference,’ said Silayev. ‘Interesting that, I wonder what’s so important they’d mandate that the bankers attend a conference when they’re supposed to be off for the long weekend?’
The President's Fixer: (A Financial and Conspiracies Thriller – a prequel to the Legacy Thriller Series) Page 3