Trojan Horse

Home > Other > Trojan Horse > Page 30
Trojan Horse Page 30

by Mark Russinovich


  The car honked again. It was Jeff. Daryl ran to the Fiat, which had a new, large dent on the passenger side, and climbed in. “Follow the black car!” she snapped. “It’s Ahmed with another man and they’re after Saliha. Hurry, Jeff! Hurry!”

  51

  ANKARA

  TURKEY

  10:27 A.M. EET

  Wu eased the SportCruiser off the runway with a sense of relief. He lifted the nose and relaxed back in his seat as the plane gained altitude. At last, he was beginning to feel that his endless stream of problems were behind him.

  Li sat beside him as impassive as ever but Wu was warming to the man, feeling almost a kinship with him. He’d long suspected Li had been sent to Turkey to spy on him but it turned out he was being punished for an incident he didn’t want to discuss.

  Wu slowed the rate of climb to cut the engine noise and began his slow turn north. He was still exhausted despite his few hours’ sleep. The long flight from Prague had just about done him in. He’d never imagined night flying was so demanding or isolating. There’d been times when he felt as if he were floating in space. He’d clung to what his meager instruments told him, even when their readings defied his senses. And they’d always been right. The frightening night landing had been almost too much for him. Looking back on it, he realized it had been closer than he’d thought at the time.

  After settling Li in, Wu had gone to bed though still tense. When he finally dropped off, his dreams were unsettled, evading his memory each time he was awakened. He’d risen early and stepped into the shower, scalding water beating on his skin as he struggled to relax. After shaving and dressing, he checked his phone. The message from Feng told him that they’d located credit card purchases in Prague and had new cell-phone numbers for the couple.

  Wu knocked on the spare bedroom door and saw that Li was ready. The men went to the parking garage to claim his Buick, then had driven to a small eatery Wu often visited. Over strong Turkish coffee he checked his iPhone and the locations for the cell phones again. He was not familiar with the area since it was a poor working-class district.

  Now, as he inched forward in rush-hour traffic, Wu reviewed again the situation. The Iranian agent Ahmed had claimed this couple were skilled CIA agents, then he’d added they were computer experts. Feng wanted the laptops so Wu was confident the last part was true. Ahmed also said the woman had killed his associate so she at least must be trained and ruthless.

  It all seemed improbable to Wu. Computer experts and skilled killers? The two just didn’t go together.

  Feng had forwarded to Wu a great deal of information overnight, so much that he’d read it this morning on his laptop during breakfast. Ahmed, it seemed, was the conduit for secret code being sent to Iran. Saliha was his mule. A vital patch had just been sent and she was carrying it into Iran. It was important she get through.

  Wu thought about that. It wasn’t his job but when he and Li got the computers they’d make certain the American couple were stopped. They couldn’t be allowed to interfere.

  Wu glanced at his watch. They’d moved perhaps ten meters in half an hour. There were all the signs of a serious blockage ahead. He checked the location again and cursed. Li looked at him. “They’re moving away from us, leaving the city, I think.”

  “They are after the courier, then. They must have missed her.”

  “Yes. She’ll be on her way to Iran. We’ve lost our chance to get them in the city.”

  “Perhaps it will be easier in a less crowded place.”

  “All right. We need a change of plans.” Though he hated it Wu could think of no alternative. He turned the wheels sharply left and when the oncoming traffic left the barest of openings, he punched the gas. He cringed as his Buick smashed into the low concrete divide, then up and over it, the bottom dragging across it and sounding as if the heart of his car was being torn out. The cars braked and honked. He wheeled the car around, then joined the faster traffic.

  “We’ll stop at the safe house,” he said, “and get what we need. Then we’ll catch them from the air.”

  52

  E80

  TRANS-EUROPEAN MOTORWAY (TEM)

  TURKEY

  11:33 A.M. EET

  Traffic was moderate on the E80 heading east, much heavier going the other direction. There were three lanes on this side of the divided highway.

  Hamid could see the blue car ahead, a Ford it looked to him. “Don’t lose her,” he said. He didn’t like repeating the instructions so often but if they lost the woman he had no idea how they’d find her again. After a few minutes he looked back at the side mirror. “There’s a red Fiat following us. Do you see it?”

  Ahmed, who was driving, did not. “No.”

  “Just keep doing what you are. I will keep an eye on it.”

  After a long pause Ahmed said, “Do you think the Americans have called in assistance?”

  “Perhaps. The CIA has agents in Turkey but I don’t think this is the way they would help. But there is also no reason for the car to be following us.”

  “Shall I test it?”

  “Not yet. The border is far away and we have plenty of time. I could be mistaken. It could just be a coincidence.”

  They’d arrived too late at Saliha’s mother’s apartment. By the time they’d finally located the obscure street Saliha was gone. There had been no need for threats. Her mother claimed they’d just missed her and told them where to find the car rental agency she always used.

  And they’d just missed her there as well, but as they followed the blue car she’d rented it was apparent she had no idea she was being followed. For now, Hamid was content just to keep her in sight. After all, they knew where she was going.

  Again he glanced at the boxy red Fiat behind them. Would the CIA actually use such a car? He shook his head in bewilderment at the idea.

  Once Jeff and Daryl’s car reached the divided highway marked E80, they calmed down. In explaining the fresh dent, Jeff had told her that changing lanes in Ankara called for more finesse than he possessed and that if he had occasion to drive there again in the future he’d rent an SUV in someone else’s name.

  Daryl expressed her frustration at not persuading Saliha. “This is a bigger job than I thought,” she said. The woman was very frightened and not only of Jeff, it seemed. From what her roommate had said, Saliha was more frightened of what Ahmed might do than anything.

  From time to time on wide curves in the highway they could see the blue car. The black Hyundai with Ahmed and the other man was tailing her as well. Traffic was not especially heavy but there were many passenger cars, overloaded pickups, and heavy semis heading east.

  “Careful Ahmed doesn’t see us,” Daryl cautioned.

  “Right. But I don’t want to stay too far back,” Jeff said.

  “I checked. This highway goes all the way to the Iran border. She’s not likely to leave it.”

  “We’ll plan on that. She’s also holding a steady speed of a hundred and ten kilometers an hour, just under seventy, which makes my job a bit easier.”

  “Boy genius,” she said with a smile.

  “It’s on the speedometer.” A minute later he said, “So . . . why is our favorite Arab here with his bearded friend?”

  “Iranians aren’t Arabs.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Unfortunately I do, Mr. Racial Stereotype. All I can think of is that he’s concerned Saliha isn’t going to deliver this final patch.”

  “He seemed satisfied she’d do it when we talked to him in Prague.”

  “Talk? Is that what you call interrogating a hog-tied man lying on the floor?”

  “I never touched him.”

  “Maybe the bearded guy is a boss of some kind and wants to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

  “They might think she’s betrayed them. That won’t be good if true.”

  “Jeff, there’s really nothing we can do except talk to Saliha when we get the chance. I don’t like Ahmed being here.
He’s a killer. I haven’t the slightest doubt he had every intention of killing both of us. We’d be dead now if we hadn’t managed to escape. I don’t need to remind you that this isn’t what we do. We need a backup plan. Do you think Frank can have her picked up by the Turkish police or stopped at the border? This really shouldn’t be up to us. Surely the Company has assets in place by now.”

  “Assets? Where’d you get that?”

  “I read novels, I know how these spy types talk. And I worked at NSA, remember?”

  “If the Company had anyone in the area Frank would have called. It’s not like there’s a lot of time for them to coordinate an operation against a moving target in the middle of the desert. He’s not thrilled about us doing this but he sees the necessity since we’re on her tail. As for Turkey, I don’t know about cooperation. It’s been moving more Islamist every year. The current government is pretty cozy with Iran. They aren’t known to cooperate with America, or Europe for that matter . . . not unless there’s something in it for them. Just a second. She’s pulling off the highway,” Jeff said. “Hold off on that call. The boys are following her.”

  “The red car is exiting with us,” Ahmed said. “You were right.”

  “Be prepared. It’s almost certainly the CIA, though we cannot rule out the Mossad.”

  At the mention of the dreaded Israeli agency, Ahmed’s mouth went dry. To his knowledge he’d never encountered its agents but the stories he’d heard were bloodcurdling. Its exploits in Europe and the Middle East were terrifying in their daring and success.

  “How is it possible for them to be here?” Ahmed asked.

  “Why do you even ask the obvious? Two CIA agents questioned you. You gave them Saliha’s name, didn’t you? And her cell-phone number? You told them what she was doing?”

  “I didn’t. Really.”

  “Of course you did. That’s why they are here.”

  Saliha preferred stopping infrequently on these trips. It was a long drive and every minute off the highway was a minute lost. But from long habit she’d established when and where she’d take a break. This town was one of many along the highway, red-roofed stone houses clustered together, the spire of a single mosque shooting skyward. Here, just off the exit, was a small, clean café where she could use the facilities and order a roll and coffee to go. She’d pick up some water while she could. She parked the Ford Fiesta beside the café, locked the doors, and went inside.

  Ahmed slowed his car as he waited for instructions. “She doesn’t know me,” Hamid said. “I’ll go inside, then follow her to the car. I’ll get out here. I want you to park well in front of her. Watch through the mirror so she doesn’t see your face. She’s your girlfriend so she should be happy to see you but you’ve never come to Turkey before and your presence will likely startle her. I’ll talk to her, then you come up and be certain to smile, Ahmed. This is a friendly gesture on your part. You want to help her out.”

  “She’s smart. She’ll know.”

  “Just do it. Now let me out.”

  “What about the red car behind us?” Ahmed asked as he braked to a stop.

  “Here.” Hamid reached into the gray travel bag he’d picked up at the café and handed over a Browning Hi-Power 9 millimeter. “It’s single action for the first shot,” he reminded him. There was a Spanish .380 Astra Constable as well, a much smaller though still heavy pistol. Hamid took that for himself, slipping it into his pocket. “We want no trouble. This is just in case they start it.” Hamid stepped from the car, then casually walked to the café.

  Jeff stopped the Fiat well back from the Hyundai. He saw the bearded man exit the car, then watched as it moved and parked some thirty feet in front of the Ford Saliha was driving. “Ahmed’s driving,” Daryl said. “I’ve never seen the other man before this morning. What do we do?”

  “Wait and watch.” He glanced beside him at the sound of a bell and saw a loaded donkey behind, led by a young boy.

  Inside, Saliha smiled at the owner, who expressed surprise at seeing her again so soon. She ordered a large American coffee to go and her favorite sweet along with two bottles of water. While she was in the bathroom, Hamid entered. As he spoke no Turkish he ordered two coffees in English and pointed to several rolls, asking they be put in a sack for him. The man understood and had both orders ready by the time Saliha come out. She saw Hamid and smiled politely while reaching for the money to pay for her order.

  She was not a beautiful woman, Hamid noted. She was pretty in a traditional Turkish way with a more prominent nose than he preferred and long, quite lovely black hair. She moved with a certain confidence rare in any Muslim country and he wondered if it was because she was from Turkey or if it was the result of her time in the West.

  He gave the man more money than necessary, then hurried after the woman. He glanced to his left and saw the red Fiat well back. A man and a woman were in it, watching. He turned right and timed himself to reach Saliha just as she arrived at her car.

  “Excuse me,” he said, glancing over her to see Ahmed exit the Hyundai. “Do you know this area?” So close, he saw she was a good three inches taller than he was. That was, unfortunately, all too common in his life.

  “No,” she answered without suspicion. “I’m just passing through.”

  “Ahh. The same as me.”

  “You could ask in the café.”

  “I could but I speak no Turkish.”

  “I don’t know if—”

  At that moment Ahmed was immediately behind her. He placed one strong hand on each of her shoulders. “Hello, Saliha.”

  She turned and gasped. “What . . . what are you doing here?”

  “Ahmed will ride with you,” Hamid said. “I will follow. We just want to be certain you reach Iran without difficulty.” He smiled. “All is well, I assure you.”

  “I . . .”

  “Let’s go,” Ahmed said with a warm smile.

  Once the two were in the car Hamid knocked on the passenger window. “Here,” he said to Ahmed. “I bought you coffee and something to eat.”

  As the couple drove off, Hamid returned to the Hyundai. With a last glance at the red Fiat, he followed.

  “They’ve kidnapped her,” Daryl said.

  “That’s one word for it. I think they want to make certain she gets to where she’s going.”

  Jeff followed the two cars through the town, then back onto E80 where Saliha in the lead car soon returned to her former pace.

  “I don’t see that there is anything we can do now,” Jeff said. “They are dangerous men and there’s no doubt the bearded one saw us.”

  “He doesn’t know who we are.”

  “Somehow that fails to reassure me.”

  Daryl stared out the window. The countryside was rolling and green, shedding winter. The poverty was apparent everywhere she looked. The sky, however, was magnificent, an indigo she couldn’t recall seeing before. “I’ll call Frank while we still have a signal.”

  When she was finished placing the call, Daryl lifted the cell phone to her ear. She glanced out the window again. A small, white plane trimmed in silver was slightly behind them, pacing traffic.

  53

  LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

  CIA HEADQUARTERS

  CYBERTERRORISM–COMPUTER FORENSICS DEPARTMENT

  1:13 P.M. EST

  Frank could not have been more unhappy. He’d not seen his family for a week. His wife understood and didn’t complain, but it was still difficult. He talked with his daughters each day and they seemed to take it well, but with children you never knew.

  Preparations for the Iranian nuclear test at the Kavir-e-Lut salt flats were well advanced according to the latest analysis of satellite imagery. Chatter intercepted by the National Security Agency confirmed high expectations within the Iranian military and among the ruling elite. The logistics were complicated but once every part was ready, transported to the site, and assembled, it wouldn’t take long.

  And so far there was no sign that Tusk h
ad managed to leap the new air gap. Once it did it would spread like wildfire and this time it was designed to be a program destroyer, not an inhibitor. The satellite image of the fuel enrichment plant in Natanz was continually displayed on one of his monitors as he waited for confirmation of success. During occasional lapses in his frantic schedule, he’d find himself staring at the buildings and grounds, searching for some sign.

  The target date for detonation was April 26, just ten days out. The UNOG report had been delayed and was the subject of wild speculation, some of which was now in the media. Its contents and conclusions had been cast in doubt. The consequence was that a military strike had been ruled out for the time being, leaving Stuxnet3 as the only remaining weapon. With this Chinese countermeasure on the way, its success was in doubt, and if it failed Frank didn’t want to think of the way the world would be changed.

  With the access Jeff and Daryl had given him, Frank was now continuously monitoring the cell-phone locations for the couple as well as that of Ahmed. According to Jeff and Daryl, Ahmed and Saliha were now in the same car. Any likelihood of Jeff and Daryl talking the woman out of the trip or getting the patch from her was all but gone.

  Frank had attempted to get agents moved into action in Turkey and been shocked at the amount of red tape he’d encountered. One senior manager had even wanted to schedule a meeting to discuss his request. As a consequence he’d spoken briefly to Edinfield earlier, ostensibly to update her, but in fact to see if he could enlist her help in getting agents in place. Instead, she’d told him about her pickup order for the couple so he’d not wanted to risk revealing their location. They were in the hunt, on the very tail of the mule, while he had no idea if real agents could get that close in time. He didn’t like it but it was up to them.

 

‹ Prev