Treasonable Intent

by C Shaw Hilton

  As a precaution, one officer took Olsson upstairs. Behind a wardrobe he unlocked the armoury. With an active background in the field Olsson had been firearms trained by MI6. He selected an HK semi-automatic 9mm machine pistol and three magazines. He was then secured behind a false panel that led to a small panic room. The officer slid the panel closed and moved the wardrobe back into place having taken out two more HK’s and a box of ten magazines. Both MI5 officers took up position in the Kitchen and watched the CCTV screen intently as they opened the automatic gates at the end of the drive. The Range Rover drove in slowly. Following protocol, the occupants waited for the gates to close behind them before getting out. They stood in a line, in front of the house, gazing at the camera over the door. The face recognition software clicked into action. In each case a synthesised female voce read out the identity. ”Nia Williams, Head of Section, MI5. Ray Singh, Special Events Officer MI5. Charles Smith, Counter Terrorism Officer MI5. Winston Makele, Counter Terrorism Officer MI5.” All was in order. Or so it seemed. The two officers in the kitchen looked at each other. The taller one shrugged. “That is definitely The Dragon. I was in a briefing with Mrs Williams just two weeks ago. That is certainly Ray, I was partnered with him on the firing range at my last assessment…” He stopped and his partner finished the line. “Then how come we don’t recognise the other two?” They looked again at the image on the screen. All four looked relaxed but Smith seemed fixed too close to the side of Singh. They zoomed in onto the faces of the two men. The taller officer spoke: “Do you think he is under duress?”

  They looked hard. “Possibly, but Mrs Williams looks relaxed and she is, after all, the boss.”

  Nia Williams stepped forward and addressed the camera: “Can we conduct the rest of the security checks inside please.” It was firm but polite.

  The taller officer nodded and walked to the front door carrying his HK across his chest ready to be swung into action if needed. He pressed the automatic opener and it swung inwards slowly. Nia faced him and the other three lined up behind her. She looked surprised “I expected to see Alicia Court.”

  The taller officer relaxed his grip on the HK which swung down to his side. “Ms Court left about an hour ago for Cheltenham.” He stepped back to allow her to enter.

  Nia’s face registered disappointment and some concern. She seemed to hesitate on the doorstep and then brushed past him causing him to take another step back. “Who else is here?” she demanded striding down the hall and opening the kitchen door.

  “Just the two of us” came the answer from inside the Kitchen. Nia looked round. It wasn’t a big house and wouldn’t take long to search. “Fine,” she said. “Well let’s get some coffee going, I’m sure you have things to check out with us.” The two house officers put the safety catches on their guns and placed them on the worktop. Ray was still in the Hall. He could feel the blade being pressed against his back by the one identified as Smith. The driver moved into the Kitchen. Nia turned to him and nodded. Smoothly he pulled a taser from his jacket and Nia followed suit. Both safe house officers collapsed in twitching heaps to the floor. Nia didn’t pause. “Make sure they tied up and gagged securely. Put them in the garage then search the house.”

  Upstairs Olsson could hear the voices and make out a few words, even though the room was well insulated. At first he expected to be let out within a few minutes. Then the hands on his watch swept away ten, then fifteen, and then twenty minutes. He stayed stock still. He had no way of confirming who was in the house. Furniture was being moved, floors stamped on and cupboards opened. It was the sound of a search, a desperate one. Silent and motionless he waited for them to discover him. The HK frozen in his grip.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Haller finished the last coding sequence and handed the second laptop back to Benning. Just touching its blood spattered case had made him physically sick. The guard had fetched him a glass of water and given him a bucket and wipes to mop up the mess on the floor. Benning scrutinised the various windows on screen. Then he inserted his own memory stick and furiously typed in a sequence of test codes. After twenty minutes he pronounced himself satisfied. “Thank you Doctor.”

  Haller inwardly sighed in relief although his face was impassive. His carefully layered encryption had worked. There was enough available to satisfy Benning and his Chinese partners but the most valuable files remained hidden. That said, the fact both machines had been taken was a blow to his plans. Above anything else he had to avoid being smuggled to China and he doubted the sincerity of the British spy. Keeping something back was important because it gave him a hand he could delay playing. He suddenly sat bolt upright and spoke with nervous urgency: “I’d like to leave now.”

  Benning looked at him with mild amusement. “Of course. We will relocate to a hotel room which will be far more comfortable.” The guard was already moving. He had sheathed his knife when the doctor agreed to decrypt the laptops. In his hand he now carried a small syringe drawn from his inside pocket. In a swift motion he stabbed Haller in the neck and administered the powerful sedative. Within seconds the doctor was unconscious.

  Benning packed the laptops back into the box. “Sadly Doctor Haller is still holding out on us. Very clever, but access to these files was too easily obtained. He has probably encrypted the rest in a different layer or transferred it elsewhere. It puts me in something of a dilemma.”

  The guard nodded and spoke in a rich Liverpool accent: “Our Chinese friends want him. The second laptop will only suffice as a token of good faith. If it provides only partial access to his files…well…it may not be enough to stall them, nor persuade them to co-operate with the next phase of our operation.”

  Benning sighed: “You’re right George. Sadly you’re right. In the long run we will have to give him up. I need to have him with us, at least for the next few days but after that…well, we shall see what transpires. In any event I will have to speak to both the Americans and the Chinese and neither conversation is going to be easy.”

  The interview room was an empty unit on an industrial estate outside Amsterdam and nothing to do with the Chinese government. It was yet another deception organised by Benning, although in this case, it had been unplanned and unwelcome. His team were originally watching Haller in Zurich. At some point in the next few days they were to abduct him and bring him to the safe house near Bristol where Benning intended to hide in plain sight. Haller’s sudden departure for Amsterdam forced him to abandon that plan and fly there himself to organise and execute an interception.

  George, who looked every inch the PLA soldier in his uniform, was a freelance agent, now working for Benning in the NTA team. The second laptop had been taken from Nazar by him as he made his way from the tram. Threats and an envelope with twenty thousand euros proved enough for him to hand it over without much of a struggle. He even submitted to the staged photograph of his corpse. The only physical casualty in the deception was the pigeon that George caught and killed to smear Nazar and the second laptop in blood.

  “Get the team ready to move” Benning instructed.

  George pulled out his phone. “At least I can get out of this damn uniform. By the time Haller comes round he will be in England and we can drop this charade.” He made the call. George had five agents working with him. The two young lads who staged the bag snatch, the tall Dutchman who administered the sedative and the two posing as paramedics who assisted Haller away from the station in his semi-conscious state. All were freelancers he used regularly for surveillance and subterfuge. The call took less than a minute.

  The fake paramedics came to collect Haller from the unit. The white, green and orange ambulance looked authentic. He was carefully put on a trolley stretcher and whisked away. Benning, George and the rest of the team followed, squeezed into a black Mercedes S Class. They were heading to Rotterdam and the ferry to Hull. Benning flicked through his phone address and found the number for the first of his crucial calls.

  Sidowski had flown back to his
office in Washington DC after his morning meeting with Trent. His enquiries had confirmed the chronology of the story given him in the cafe. With some reluctance he authorised a covert search for Haller, starting with his last sighting in Amsterdam. He had already set up a tail on Trent to ensure he didn’t suddenly do anything rash or unexpected. If he had lied about the beta test and ballistic missile hack then he might try to make a run for it. The NSA man was still sceptical about the technological claims being made.

  The whole business upset his professional sensibilities but he understood the reality of the situation. The balance of ownership, rights and influence over cyber technology was uniquely different from any other type of potential military asset. The federal government had been too slow to this particular game and now had to share the playing field with privateers. The British and Western Europeans faced the same problem. The Chinese had no more than a minor inconvenience with their fledgling private technology sector. The Russians, Iranians and others still operated totalitarian control over their programmes; blighted only by corruption or organised crime. Nevertheless it still irritated him that Esterhazy Investments participated in both sanctioned activity and the murky underworld of the cyber black market with little regard to national strategy. To him it made capitalism a dirty word.

  His phone rang. It was Benning. The two men knew each other vaguely from his time in London several years ago on a joint CIA and MI6 intelligence operation. More recently they had met in Washington at a private symposium at Georgetown University where Benning delivered a lecture entitled “Collaborative strategy and the cyber arms race.” The guy clearly knew his stuff but it was all a bit out of left field and too theoretical. He was surprised when he heard Benning was appointed Head of the National Threat Assessment Centre and then alarmed to learn he had sponsored the joint project launched in Hong Kong. It made him revise his view of what Benning had been saying. It made him think he was dangerous.

  “Good afternoon” said Benning, “you will have to forgive me but I am on the move so the signal might not be up to maintaining our conversation.

  “Nice to hear from you Mr.Benning,” said Sidowski. “I take it that this isn’t a social call.” His voice was flat and unwelcoming without being hostile.

  “Indeed,” came the reply “I am afraid I have something of a predicament and I would value your advice.” The tone was pleasant but laced with a deeper meaning. He continued “As you are probably aware a joint research project with ourselves and the Chinese has not gone as planned. There has been an unwelcome aftermath. I still think that their TwoBitz Holdings, our Lansing Research and your Esterhazy Investment made a strong combination but sadly human behaviour has yet again got in the way of a good idea.”

  “You can say that again buddy” muttered Sidowski.

  Benning ignored him. “Involving the Haller Clinical Foundation has proven to be a mistake. I understand why colleagues insisted on it, but the doctor effectively played fast and loose with the intellectual property rights involved. He even ran his own illicit project on the side.”

  There was a pause. Sidowski was beginning to become very irritated with the direction this was taking. “Get to the point Mr. Benning. I am aware of what happened,” he snapped.

  Benning thought about changing his tone but decided simply to continue. “Very well. It would appear that the Chinese believe that they have been put in jeopardy by Haller. They want him to make good by working for TwoBitz in China utilising the learning from the project. He tried to stall them and then fled. To say they are upset is an understatement. My dilemma is that I know where he is. I can give him to them in return for assets and technology of benefit to the United Kingdom or I could give him to you…for a price.”

  Sidowski took a deep breath. The guy could be lying. It could be a fishing expedition trying to locate Haller or expose what the NSA knew about his activities. After a few moments he cautiously replied: “I would not wish the Doctor to fall into the hands of the PLA. In fact I would go as far as to say the NSA would regard his safe delivery to the United States as something of national importance. Important enough for the Secretary of State to speak to your Foreign Secretary directly.”

  Benning swallowed hard. The NSA would clearly stand on their rights to have any asset of interest handed over to them. He played his card: “Well I’m sure that will be an interesting conversation but I am afraid I am no longer part of the family firm. I have decided to become a sole trader.”

  Sidowski had read the early reports about a terrorist cell on the loose in the UK and the various requests to allies for any useful information on the four suspects. Unfortunately he had missed the fact that Benning was being sought by MI5. “You’ll have to explain that one to me Mr. Benning.” His voice had become icy.

  Benning drew breath and launched into his pitch. “The British Government and I have parted company. All the time I was working to create a different approach, the likes of Sir Alistair Mackie and the current heads of the secret service branches were undermining me. The Prime Minister has allowed the confrontational and dangerous elements in the military to seize the initiative. We are now in an arms race we cannot afford and where there can be no winners.”

  Sidowski listened to the tone. It was a rant but it was said with passion and belief. It confirmed his view that Benning was a loose cannon and dangerous. “So you are working independently?” He simply asked.

  Benning laughed on the end of the phone. “Ironic isn’t it. The sophisticated approach to foster co-operation; to avoid one nation exercising dangerous advantage over the rest; to spin off positive developments for the betterment of humanity…all that has been rejected by an establishment that lives its life in a climate of fear.”

  Sidowski had heard enough. “What do you want in return for locating and returning Haller to the NSA?”

  In the passenger front seat of the Mercedes, Neville Benning smiled to himself. The ambulance ahead of him was approaching the ferry port and he knew he should end the call shortly to deal with the inevitable paperwork. “I want the genetic, enzyme and DNA coding interface that Haller has been developing with Esterhazy. I have his laptops and I have the leverage and means to get him to co-operate in unlocking his files. Nevertheless it would be so much better for all concerned if you gave me that part of the jigsaw.”

  There was a long pause. Sidowski knew the interface had huge value and that it was part of the system Trent had described for disrupting the weapons systems of other states. He had been told by Trent that without Haller, the full operation of the system would be delayed. That left him little choice but to play for time. “Ok. I will speak to my colleagues here.”

  Benning looked at his watch. “I will call you in twenty four hours with a time and location for an exchange.” He finished the call. They had arrived at the port. Benning turned to his driver, “The clock is ticking George, the clock is ticking.”

  Sidowski put his phone down. He would have to speak to the National Security Adviser and to Trent Powell but first he ordered a full briefing and report on Neville Benning and an update on the developing situation in the UK. He reflected that, in the space of a day, things had escalated dramatically. From delivering a wrap over the knuckles to Esterhazy about China, he was now dealing with a man who appeared deranged, with access to some of the most dangerous technology the world had known.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ray was tethered to a chair in the lounge. It had taken them only two minutes to find the hidden arms store but they had missed the panic room behind it. Smith loaded all the weapons into the Range Rover. Nia sat texting on the sofa and occasionally breaking to watch the news channel on the television. Makele was in the kitchen wiping the CCTV hard drive. Smith appeared at the door. “There is an HK missing with three magazines.”

  Nia frowned. “Alicia must have taken it. Maybe the Exeter ambush spooked her. Then again it would be unusual for the Head of MI5 to handle a gun.” She looked at the ceiling. “Unless there is
someone else here. Search the house and grounds again.” Smith rolled his eyes. He had only just completed searching the whole place. Nia saw the look. “Again please,” she ordered.

  She turned to Ray and muted the television with the remote. “I suppose you expect an explanation for all of this?”

  Ray nodded. “I don’t know what you are going to say,” he blurted out, “but nothing justifies what you have done.”

  Nia looked stony faced. She spoke with a calm authority. “I’m afraid that all wars have their casualties and make no mistake, this is a war. Despite all the fireworks, we have avoided killing anyone…so far at least. You must understand that desperate times require desperate actions. I don’t expect you to join us, but equally I care enough about our officers not to want you a martyr to a corrupt and dangerous cause.”

  “Come off it,” said Ray, feeling less bold than he presented. “You were party to that ambush on the service slip road and, for all I know, involved in the fireworks in Gloucester and Bourton. Anyone could have taken a bullet or been blown up, including civilians. If you brought me here to co-operate then you’ve misjudged me.”

  Nia leaned forward as if speaking in confidence. “You have already been co-operating. All of your efforts over the last two days have been choreographed. For god’s sake haven’t you realised yet what your masters are trying to protect? It isn’t cyber defence. Rose Garden is cyber offence. Britain is on the cusp of unleashing a new cyber arms race that could spell disaster for humanity.”

  Ray looked straight at her. “What do you mean choreographed?”