Against All Odds (Book 1): As We Fall

by Hunt, Jack

  Sam offered back a confused expression. “Paying me? No, I just want to get to know you.”

  “Get to know me?” she spat.

  He nodded slowly.

  Anna looked around, shaking her head. Her hands balled. “You’ve got some nerve coming here now.” She got right up in his face, wagging her finger. “You had plenty of time to get to know me. But where were you? Huh? I never once received a card from you on my birthdays. You never once showed up. Where were you when I needed you?”

  Her words echoed across the yard, and several students gawked.

  “Anna? No, that’s not true.”

  She stabbed her finger at him. “Bullshit! My grandfather said you were a liar. He was right. So, no, I’m not going anywhere with you. You had your chance. It’s gone. Screw you.”

  With that she turned and strode across the yard leaving him speechless. Sam looked down at the old wrinkled photo he had of her in his hand, the one taken on her fourteenth birthday. He slipped it back into his pocket. Sam remained there for a few more minutes chewing over what she said before making his way back to the subway with a heavy heart.

  TWO - TRAPPED

  His attempt to return to his hotel that afternoon was unsuccessful. As he rode the subway train south on the Red Line to Broadway he reflected on his conversation with Anna. Sam had no intention of leaving Boston without her but on the other hand she was old enough to make her own decisions and she’d made it pretty clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him. Although her reaction was to be expected after eleven years, it caught him off-guard as Helen had promised to speak with her to ensure that his arrival wasn’t such a shock to her system, obviously that conversation never happened.

  Across from him some drunk guy was laid out across three seats clutching a bottle of alcohol in a brown paper bag. Sam rocked gently in his seat to the rumble of the train. Farther down the subway car there were another eight passengers looking absently into space. No one made eye contact. It was always the same in big cities — people went about their lives pretending as if no one else existed, and hoping they didn’t encounter a crazy as the cities were full of them. That’s why he’d distanced himself from the fast pace of city living and bought himself a ranch in California. After years of combat tours he appreciated the quiet.

  Sam tried to phone Helen but he wasn’t getting a signal. He glanced across to a lady two seats down who had been staring at her phone ever since he’d got on board. They were seven stops away from Broadway when he realized something was up.

  “Hey lady, you getting a signal?” he asked.

  The Chinese woman turned and shook her head. “I’ve been trying for the last hour. Nothing. Can’t even get on the Internet.”

  She scowled and returned to swiping her screen.

  Sam had opted for a plan without Internet, it was cheaper and he had little need for the noise of the World Wide Web. He was going to ask someone else but they didn’t look as if they were interested in conversing. Across from him, near the head of the drunk guy, was a daily newspaper — Sam scooped it up and zigzagged the headlines. The front page was all about politics. He hated politics. Left wing, right wing, why on earth people spent their time reading into all that divisive nonsense was beyond him. While he believed in fighting for the freedom of his country, he didn’t give a crap about who got into power. The way he saw it, they all screwed up no matter who was at the helm. People praised them on the way in and tore them down the next day, so why bother? Sam flicked through some of the pages, taking in some of the local news until he came across the headline: Will Cyber Attacks on Cities Become the New Norm?

  In recent years the war on terror had changed. Before, it was just a matter of sending in the boys, taking out a few insurgents and flying back before supper. Now they were dealing in cyber defense, working undercover in local communities and infringing on people’s privacy in order to weed out the bad apples. It was a different world to when he signed up and part of the reason he was glad to be out. It was nothing more than a political game with suits in Washington calling the shots. But it wasn’t just that, he’d seen too many of his teammates killed, and watched others spiral into PTSD with little help from the government. He realized they were nothing more than an expendable commodity, a number to the government, and a faceless fighter for a war that at times made no sense.

  Sam continued reading about how Atlanta’s city network had been crippled for five days, and how a Baltimore 911 emergency dispatch system had been taken down for over seventeen hours.

  While the majority of the attacks by hackers had involved blocking online access to city websites, and the use of Wi-Fi at an airport while demanding money through what was now called ransomware, the events had raised a number of questions about the security of an interconnected world that was becoming more and more digitalized with each passing day. He shook his head in disbelief thinking of all the time and money that was being wasted elsewhere when the real war was now being conducted through the back doors of the Internet. It was clear that Atlanta was only a precursor to a larger attack.

  Sam wobbled, and braced himself as the train squealed to a stop at Park Street station. Two passengers got off, and three more got on. One of them looked like he worked for the transit system, he was a burly guy, mid-thirties, sporting a thick beard and wearing an orange safety vest and a white hard hat. He remained standing, holding one of the poles, and briefly glanced at Sam before ignoring him. The lights above started to flicker again, they had been doing that ever since he’d boarded. It seemed like the same crap that was happening at the terminal was happening here.

  “Next stop Downtown Crossing,” an automated voice said over the speakers.

  The train lurched forward and he returned to reading.

  Atlanta seemed to have gotten off lightly. The article delved into historic accounts of cyber attacks like the one in Ukraine in 2015, which caused a massive power outage and disrupted the power distribution equipment so much that it was nearly impossible to restore power. That attack was blamed on Russia. Russia? He grinned. They were never too far out of the picture. The article then went on to cover how the U.S. and Britain were blaming Russia back in April for a global cyber attack that had affected computer routers, firewalls, networking equipment along with critical infrastructure including communications, and the power grid.

  “We will not take this lightly. Any form of malicious cyber activity, whether it be from the Kremlin or any other state, will be met with consequences,” said the White House cyber security coordinator. Sam shook his head. There we go again, he thought. He knew that if there was any validity to these claims, the U.S. had probably already taken action. All that remained to be seen was how Moscow would respond.

  Sam glanced up as the lights flickered again.

  The last line of the article had experts saying that it wasn’t a matter of how or if it would happen, only when.

  He tossed the paper to one side and closed his eyes to get some rest.

  The train made it through several more stops before the brakes squealed, the lights went out and the train came to a grinding stop. For a few seconds everyone sat in darkness doing nothing. Small bands of light from a few phones illuminated the ceiling. A few people coughed, and a couple looked out. They waited for the lights to come back on and the train to start moving again but it never did.

  Seconds turned into minutes, and quickly people became concerned.

  “What’s going on?” one guy asked as if hoping someone might hold the answer.

  “It’s just a power outage, I’m sure it will be up and running in a minute or two,” transit guy said.

  More time passed and then everyone started to get antsy.

  Sam stood up and went over to the doors and peered out. He turned on his phone using it as a flashlight. All the lights he’d seen as they got closer to Broadway were now off.

  “We should get off,” Sam said. “We’ve waited long enough.”

  “Sir, ca
lm down. This has happened before,” the transit worker said as though it was nothing to be concerned about.

  “Oh yeah, when?” another passenger asked.

  “Last year, people had to walk through the Green Line tunnel after a power outage at four of the stations.”

  “Great,” Sam said rubbing the bridge of his nose. The day couldn’t get much worse. “Look, you want to give me a hand opening this door?”

  “Hold on a second.” Transit guy went over to an emergency intercom at the far end of the car that let people call the train operator. He pushed a red button and spoke, then released it to listen but heard nothing back. He tried again. Nothing.

  “Shit,” he said in a low tone but Sam caught it.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “It’s dead.”

  “Are you joking?” a younger woman asked.

  “Do I look like I’m joking?” he replied.

  Sam went back to the door and tried to pry it open. “Come on, give me a hand.”

  “Sir, I would not advise doing that. These matters usually are resolved fairly quickly.”

  “Oh yeah, how long did it take them to restore power last year?” the woman asked.

  “A couple of hours,” he replied.

  “Well, it’s dark. It’s hot in here, and no phone is working. I’m not staying in here.”

  “Me neither,” another woman added.

  Transit guy sighed. “And if it comes back on in a couple of minutes? You want to take your chances out there on the line?”

  “I don’t plan on walking on it,” the first woman said. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “I meant the train starting up. There isn’t a lot of space between the train and walkway.”

  Sam ignored him and continued to try loosening up the steel jaws. “You work for the MBTA?” he asked. The guy nodded. “Then shouldn’t this have some kind of emergency release?”

  He nodded. “Follow me. Each car has three doors, the middle one is the one with the emergency release.”

  “You learn something new every day,” Sam said. “By the way, I’m Sam.”

  Transit guy looked back at him. “Mason Dyer,” he muttered before engaging the emergency release. The doors didn’t open.

  “Well that didn’t work,” the rambunctious younger woman behind them said. “Any other bright ideas?”

  Mason shook his head and pulled on the left door panel to open it. “It just unlocks it, it needs power to automatically open.” After saying that he pulled out a flashlight and switched it on, shining the light on a two-foot walkway that fed down into the darkness.

  Sam turned to the others. “Come on, let’s go.” He stepped out assuming they would follow. There were those among the group who refused to leave but that was to be expected. In life not everyone thought the same. It wasn’t stupidity as much as it was habit and fear. Many people were creatures of habit and trusted in the infrastructure that was in place even if it broke.

  “It’s not safe out there. You heard what he said. It could come back on again.”

  “That’s why there is a walkway,” Sam replied.

  A guy came over and peered out and then backed up. “Nah, I’ll take my chances here.”

  “Suit yourself.” Sam stepped out after the younger woman, and an elderly couple. Mason sighed and told those staying behind to hang tight. He reassured them that when he made it to the nearest station he would alert the station manager and transit police.

  Mason led the way providing light to their path while Sam and the others trailed behind him.

  “Does this go all the way to the station?” the younger woman asked.

  “We are a fair distance from Broadway.” He turned ever so slightly and spoke over Sam. “Folks, listen up, we’re going to exit via the street level, there are emergency exits every two thousand five hundred feet along this tunnel. Whatever you do, don’t step on the rail.”

  “Do you think we’re stupid?” the woman blurted out.

  “You’d be surprised at what I’ve seen.”

  “How long have you been working for transit?” Sam asked.

  “Four years.”

  “So what caused last year’s outage?”

  “Electrical problems,” Mason replied. “You from these parts?” he asked.

  “No. California.”

  “Ah the land of sun and sunshine. What the hell brings you this way?”

  “I’m visiting my daughter. Well, I’m meant to be seeing her.”

  The flashlight beam bounced with each step revealing the grimy underworld.

  “Oh, like that, is it?”

  “It’s a long story,” Sam replied not wishing to get into it.

  “Always is. Does she work in Boston?”

  “No, she’s studying at Harvard.”

  “Oh snap, my ex-wife works there.”

  “What does she teach?”

  “IT. Yep, I bet she’s having a field day with this right now. That woman is attached to her phone 24/7. One year I bought her a Velcro band so she could wrap it around her head and attach the phone to it. Let’s just say the gift didn’t go over well.”

  Sam chuckled. “I don’t expect it would have.”

  “Oh that wasn’t her main gift. Oh, no I bought her a brand-new Toyota. You know what she said when she saw it?”

  “Does it come with a phone?” Sam muttered before they both started chuckling.

  “No, she frowned and asked if she could take it back. Seems she had her eyes set on some flashy BMW. Like who the hell has money to drop on a BMW?”

  “Are we there yet?” the elderly couple hollered.

  “Nearly.”

  There was a pause in the conversation.

  “So did you take it back?” Sam asked.

  “Hell no! I kept it and made her buy her own car.” He laughed and then came to a stop. “Okay, folks, we’re coming to the end of the walkway and there is another on the other side of the tunnel. We’ll cross now to the exit,” he said before sweeping the flashlight over the darkness towards an emergency exit door. “There are three rails, this third rail here is covered by a white plate. It’s what powers the train. Do not step on that unless you want seven hundred and fifty volts coursing through your body. The other two rails aren’t to be touched either.” Mason hopped off the walkway with confidence and extended his hand. “Okay, one at time.”

  Sam assisted, helping the elderly couple across. As soon as they made it to the other side, Mason opened a steel call box attached to the wall and tried to make contact with the operations control center. He dialed zero. While he waited for them to pick up he waved everyone on.

  “You can head into the stairwell. Go ahead, just don’t go up yet.”

  The woman and the elderly couple pushed through the exit door.

  The only light came from their phones.

  Seconds later Mason put the receiver down and brought a hand up to his head.

  “I don’t know what the heck is going on but no one is picking up.”

  Sam pushed into the stairwell and they made their way up three flights of stone steps until they reached a ladder that went up to overhead steel doors. Mason pushed them open and daylight flooded in along with the sound of horns honking and sirens blaring.

  THREE - CLOSING IN

  Minutes earlier, Anna had stepped into an elevator in William James Hall. It was a fifteen-story building that housed three majors: psychology, anthropology and sociology. The top six floors were dedicated for psychology labs and she was meant to be in class but instead she found herself stuck inside four steel walls with two other students.

  The lights came back on and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “For a second there I thought we were going to be stuck in here forever,” she said.

  “It’s the emergency backup generator,” Chase said before tapping the button because the elevator still wouldn’t budge.

  Chase Ross was twenty-two, blond, good-looking with a granite jaw and resided in the
same dorm building as Anna. Like her family, he’d been sent to Harvard not because he wanted to go but because it was what had always been done. It was all about prestige, appearances and keeping up the family tradition. The other person in the elevator was a girl named Harper Woods. She took the same courses as Anna but was a quiet girl who kept to herself and rarely spoke unless someone asked her a question. As freshmen, they were still learning the ropes of living on campus and getting adjusted to the daily regime.

  “Then why aren’t we moving?” Anna asked.

  “No idea,” he said.

  Anna started banging on the door with her fist and called out for help. “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

  Harper shrank down in the corner of the elevator wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she began breathing fast.

  “Hey, hey, it will be okay,” Anna said dropping down beside her. “We won’t be in here forever.”

  “I don’t like confined spaces,” she replied.

  The girl was shaking. Anna had never seen someone so scared. Sure, they were seven floors high and if the elevator dropped, they would likely die or suffer some major injuries but at least there was oxygen, light and they were still alive. The building had been busy when she’d arrived so the chances of someone hearing them were high.

  “Just breathe. Take a few slow breaths,” Anna said trying to guide her through the panic.

  Chase continued to hammer fist the door and shout which didn’t exactly help the situation but remaining quiet wasn’t an option. “Oh come on. This is bullshit.”

  He pulled out his phone again and tried to get a signal.

  “Anything?” Anna asked.

  “Nope.” He tried to pry the doors open but they were sealed shut. Eventually he slumped down and stared at his phone. “I knew coming here was a big mistake. I wanted to go to UCLA but would they listen? Nope. Chase, it’s Harvard. You go there and you can get any job you want. Chase, UCLA doesn’t even come close to this,” he said mocking his parents.

  Anna still had her arm around Harper, trying to console her. She looked at him and asked, “What were you going to take there?”