Treasonable Intent

by C Shaw Hilton

  It was a pleasant day in the pretty village of Woodstock. After a light lunch, he had walked out of the back of the pub and through a small yard next to a storage shed. Along the street behind, a row of commercial vehicles were parked on the kerb. They belonged to workers renovating a pair of adjoining cottages. The side of one of the panel vans was open. Inside were some plaster covered overalls and wellingtons on the floor and a couple of spare hard hats on a shelf. He dumped his jacket in a roadside bin and grabbed the overalls. Within seconds he was transformed into the appearance of one of the builders. He walked briskly up the road and spotted the bus stop. According to his web browser the next cross country service to Oxford was due inside two minutes. The only other person waiting was an elderly lady carrying a bright yellow shopping bag. He smiled but didn’t engage in conversation. To his delight the bus arrived on schedule and he clambered in paying with the remaining loose change in his pocket. The journey was brief and once deposited at the railway station he ditched the overalls in the public toilets and headed for the train. After several changes of route and transport he was back in Westminster by 10.30 pm.

  In a small underground car park a four year old BMW 5 Series was parked near the entrance. Inside were the team he had hand-picked. John Carter had worked with him for years as a paid agent. He was based in Hong Kong and it was his covert photography that had captured the meeting between Benning and Li. He had no idea that Olsson was a Russian double agent but he believed that he had become involved in a whistle blowing plan to expose the dangerous misuse of cyber technology. It seemed a worthy endeavour and his usual fee was paid in advance. Carter was brilliant at infiltration. His personal skills were matched by a strong background in hacking into security systems. He sat in the driver’s seat. Next to him was his partner Jenny Hsu. She had been in the Chinese Ministry of State Security from 2007 until she defected in 2014. Her expertise in cyber intelligence had proven invaluable to MI6. She had been turned by Carter in a relationship that started as a device for defection but translated swiftly into true love.

  Olsson slid into the rear seat of the car. “Thanks for this” he said in a brief moment of sincerity. Jenny leaned around the front passenger seat and passed him a set of documents and a key card. “This is the best we could come up with in the timescale. I won’t pretend it is perfect but it should do the job.” She handed him the small laptop briefcase that she had kept for him over the last day or two.

  “We are pretty clear on the protocols and with everything going off I think we stand a fair chance of getting positioned, but timing will be critical, “added Carter. Olsson nodded and scrutinised the documents.

  “We put false plates on the car. It may help if we have to leave in a hurry. It’s straight out of an auction in Yorkshire and runs fine but has probably had more of a chequered history than the paperwork shows. It will do the job,” declared Jenny.

  The paperwork was good, better than he thought possible in the timescale. If the coded ID card was to the same standard they should be able to walk into the building without a problem. Olsson took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  Jenny raised a hand. “You haven’t checked the photo on your card. We don’t want you spotted by face recognition. Sorry but you need to change and put on some disguise features. I will fetch them from the boot.” She popped out and retrieved a bag. It contained a classic wig, false moustache and glasses as well as a uniform, black shoes and socks.

  Olsson hesitated. “You’re kidding?” He smiled. It was straight out of a B movie he thought. Time was pressing however so he changed swiftly into his alter ego.

  The BMW left the car park and drove steadily along Millbank. The journey would only take a few minutes. All three now sported photo ID cards on lanyards around their neck declaring them to be senior officers attached to the Joint Cyber Warfare Unit. Each carried a small laptop bag.

  They left the car fifty metres from the National Cyber Security Building and walked the rest. The glass and concrete structure looked deserted but still contained almost a hundred staff, many of whom were coming on duty for an 11pm to 7am shift. Olsson and the other two entered the building together. They passed through the outer security in the atrium as their bags went through the X-ray machine. If they had then headed for the lifts or ground floor offices that is where their journey would have been stopped. Instead they descended a flight of stairs and before reaching the next security barrier, punched in a key code on the cleaning store and swiftly entered. They knew that other than the night janitor, the cleaners would have left by 9.00pm so they should not be disturbed. Each unpacked their bag which appeared to contain a laptop and tools. Carter went in search of the wall panel at the back of the store which controlled the fire suppression system and alarm. Once discovered he carefully removed the panel and began to clip a specially adapted lead from his laptop into the unit. After six minutes of furious tapping and waiting, he turned to Olsson and said “I’m in.” He now had effective control of the whole fire alarm system for all the public areas and lowest level security corridors. The rest were on a separate isolated system controlled from behind the main firewall. Jenny was standing on a shelf she had emptied to reach the air duct system. It was alarmed by infra-red sensors at each junction but she was able to crawl inside and squeeze her way along thirty metres before she came to the first junction of the four main ducts. She left her laptop there, having activated it and packed as much flammable cleaning materials around it as she could find. Olsson found a space on the floor behind some boxes filled with soap dispensers. Out of sight, as the others worked at their tasks he prised his laptop case open. At first glance it looked like any other interior but skilfully he pulled out the parts in the correct sequence and assembled them. Sliding the battery in place he had a hand held taser which he then slid inside his jacket pocket. The empty case was clipped back together and dropped back inside his bag. He re-joined the others just as Carter indicated his success hacking the fire alarms. “Okay you two, time to leave, your work is done. Wait in the car. If I don’t appear in the next fifteen minutes then drive off and go to our rendezvous point as instructed. They synchronised their watches. It was 11.10pm.

  The couple slipped out of the store and joined the half dozen late leavers who had overstayed the end of their shift. The scrutiny of those exiting was negligible. Inside the store Olsson began to feel nervous. His plan should work but the timing was tight. He rehearsed again the information he had read a hundred times, drawn from the threat assessment reports for the centre. At 11.15pm exactly he punched the enter button on Carters laptop. The air was instantly filled with the blaring fire alarm and in the public areas, the sprinkler system was activated. In the secure areas above him the alarms did not activate but a calm message came out of every wall speaker. “Potential fire on lower floor. Non-essential personnel to assemble outside at the fire safety point.” This was repeated every fifteen seconds. Seconds later there was a loud bang that carried along the air ducting system and within thirty seconds smoke was billowing into the corridors. Alarms on all floors activated in response to the smoke. The fire message was supplemented by a computerised voice urging “Shut down procedure, evacuate all non-urgent personnel, lockdown in two minutes.” By this time Olsson was out of the store room. He walked directly to the emergency stairwell door and pulled it open with considerable force. The fire override had worked. He could hear the commotion above him as doors banged and people began to head downstairs to evacuate the building. He raced upwards taking two steps in each stride. Six breathless flights later and he reached the secure third floor door. From the upper floors people came down and pushed past him telling him to get out. He fumbled in his pocket, “Yes, yes I’m coming!” he shouted above the alarms. Then the door swung outwards and four young technicians shuffled out with a controlled lack of urgency that suggested they still thought it might be a drill. Olsson grabbed the door edge and swung past the last one into the third floor. He moved directly down the corridor r
eading off the numbers. To his right an oak door numbered Room 311 with a card slot. He pushed his ID card into the slot. If he had been a praying man he would have prayed but in the event he simply let out his breath as the door buzzed and he heard the lock click. He was in!

  Olsson was hoping to be alone but in the corner, one of six work stations was occupied by a woman dressed in jeans, a white jacket and a roll neck sweater. She looked up as he entered. He could see her trying to read his badge as he slung it back around his neck. “Good evening” he smiled and strode directly across to her. She looked non-plussed at his arrival. “Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?” she queried. His response was to draw the taser and stun her. In seconds she was immobilised on the floor. From his pocket he pulled ties and tape. She was secured face down before she began to revive. Olsson went straight to her terminal. It was open. He switched out of the programme she was using and logged in a high level clearance code. He pulled a small USB storage device from his pocket that Benning had given him, inserted it into the desktop and pressed upload when prompted. Thirty seconds later the transfer was complete. It was 11.22 exactly.

  As GCHQ went dark, emergency authorisations were sent to the National Cyber Defence Centre. The Centre registered the attack but confirmed that it too was compromised. The building was on fire and in lockdown. Benning’s malware became active within its system. In Plymouth the Cube identified the malware as potentially hostile. In response it ordered Rose Garden to isolate itself and sought to confirm ongoing security permissions through the single secure network. The request went out but was intercepted at the TwoBitz building in Shanghai. There was no response. As far as Rose Garden was concerned the system was on its own. Olsson could see the exchanges on screen. He had rehearsed the codes and thought through the pattern of protocols that drove the thinking behind Rose Garden. Now he just had to wait whilst the British establishment plodded their way to the inevitable conclusion that they should shut it down. He typed in another code clearance and uploaded a second USB. This was the Russian malware. It took nearly six minutes but it would ensure that any shutdown would be permanent.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  George had spotted the surveillance car as they passed the junction for Rochdale. He checked everything for the next few miles. There was a helicopter and on the overhead bridges too much activity for his liking. “We are being followed” he whispered into Benning’s ear.

  Benning grimaced in annoyance. At the very least he hoped to get the RV nearer to Salford. “Get off at Birch Services and park up as close to the building as you can get” he instructed his sister.

  She looked at him closely, “Someone need the toilet or is the Doctor still feeling ill?” she asked.

  “Both” said Benning. He picked up the small shoulder bag he had brought with him and turned his attention to Haller. He could see his brain was already working on how this might enable him to escape. “Don’t even think about jumping ship.” Haller looked sheepish.

  A few minutes later the RV swung off the motorway and into parking zone at Birch. Benning quietly briefed George. Suzanne managed to find a bay only thirty metres from the front door of the service complex and pulled up.

  “George will help the doctor find the toilets. You and I can get the coffees,” Benning said nonchalantly. They disembarked from the RV. Above them every move was being watched from a police helicopter. A steady flow of unmarked police vehicles and a van filled with MI5 Special Events officers deployed around the RV over the next twenty five minutes.

  George took Haller straight over the enclosed bridge to the building on the opposite side of the motorway. The Doctor used the toilet and under the watchful eye of George washed his hands. Instead of returning to the westbound carriageway services they turned left and went out into the eastbound carriageway car park. George scanned the vehicles. A rather battered pick up caught his eye. With no driver or passenger apparent he looked into the cab. He pulled out his Swiss army knife and in forty seconds he and Haller were reversing out of the parking bay and on their way.

  Benning fumbled in his pockets in the queue for the coffee shop. “Jesus, I’ve left my wallet in the RV.” Suzanne looked at him sceptically. “It’s true, sis,” he pleaded. “It’s on the seat by the dining table. Look I’ll keep our place in the line. Can you get it for me please?”

  She rolled her eyes and muttered “Mine is a Latte and I’d like a large slab of the carrot cake as well,” before heading off. The moment she was out of the door Benning left the coffee shop and walked through the rows of shopping outlets to a service door in the rear. He found a small store and a locker area where several coats hung on a rack. Picking up a high visibility jacket he put it on and then left through the exterior door. It was a walk of about 200 metres to the fuel station. Once under the canopy he ditched the jacket in one of the bins and went into the shop. He walked straight up to the half dozen people paying for their fuel. “Is there anyone that can give me a lift? My car broke down but I need to get home urgently.”

  There were a couple of people who ignored him but the rest nodded. “Where are you headed mate?” came a burly voice from a large denim clad young man in a hooded jacket. I’m going into Monton.” He looked like a boxer.

  Benning smiled: “Perfect, I am near Salford Royal. Just drop me off, I’ll walk the rest.” Two minutes later they sped away in a brown Peugeot 3008, unrecognised by the increasing numbers of police beginning to secure the whole site.

  Suzanne was frustrated. She had searched the chair and the floor under the table for the wallet. Nothing. She then thought Neville must have made a mistake and began to search the rest of the RV. It took six minutes before she gave up. “Sod it” she said to herself and checking her pocket purse “I’ll buy the damn coffees myself.” Throwing open the side door she stepped out onto the asphalt and locked it behind her. When she turned around she found two men and a woman facing her, all pointing pistols in her direction. Almost involuntarily she slowly raised her hands above her head.

  It was going dark when George and Haller met Benning at the church green in Monton. They had parked the pick up at the golf club and walked the short distance to meet him. “I don’t think Suzanne is going to forgive me for this” said Benning. “We need to get a cab into Salford Quays.” George ordered a taxi to meet them in the High Street and the three of them made their way towards it. Haller was looking around frantically. The last thing he wanted was to be incarcerated somewhere in Manchester with George. He knew they would be quite ruthless when the time came to use his services. Through the project in Hong Kong he had been slowly drawn into helping plan the attack on the British Rose Garden system. He had given them as much help and information as he was going to give. Initially he had enjoyed the challenge and revelled in the chance to apply the learning from the project. Nor was he averse to being well paid by the Chinese, who seemed to be bankrolling it. But that was in the safety of his clinical laboratory in Zurich. Now he was being abducted. Now he was in the UK. Now it was becoming too close a personal involvement and far, far too risky.

  He was convinced that wherever they were going to take him, it would not end well. Escape seemed his only option. He was desperate. When the cab arrived he took his chance. Pulling away from George he refused to get into the vehicle. Benning was already getting into the seat next to the driver. He was unable to do anything as Haller backed away. George tried to grab him but the driver suddenly came to life and shouted “What the hell is going on?”

  “Too much to drink. Doesn’t want to go home” said Benning trying to make light of the situation.

  Inside the adjacent kebab shop people began to come out to look at the commotion. Haller was being physically pulled across the pavement. He suddenly threw himself onto the floor. It tipped George off balance and he sprawled alongside him. In frustration he was about to pull his knife out but at that moment two young lads started to run towards him. Benning shouted at George “Leave him, he is on his own.”
George scrambled up onto his feet and dived into the rear of the taxi. In a few seconds Haller was left crawling towards the door of the local kebab shop, surrounded by onlookers, as the taxi swept away from the kerb. “Bugger” said Benning.

  It was 10.42 when the taxi dropped them outside of the BBC in Media City, Salford. Benning left George to take the cab on into Manchester. He walked into the atrium and asked to speak to the news editor. Showing his credentials helped, but the real reason he was granted access to the editorial suite was his bold claim; “I can tell you that in the next twelve hours there will be a series of devastating cyber-attacks on our national infrastructure. I will tell you about each one in advance to guarantee you exclusive coverage. I will also tell you that the responsibility for this rests with the Prime Minister and I can prove it. This will bring the government down.” The hardened news team were caught between healthy scepticism and excitement. “How will this start?” asked the editor of Newsnight, which had just gone on air. Benning smiled. “At 11.22 the whole of Cheltenham will be turned back to the dark ages.” The journalists scrambled into action.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  GCHQ had been busy, late into the evening. Following the video conference with the National Security Council, the Brigadier asked Louise to lead a review of options with MI5. The whole set up was uncomfortable for all concerned. The pent up anger and suspicion was tangible amongst those present.

  The Brigadier opened proceedings “I’m afraid the Security Service has not distinguished itself in the last few days. MI6 is equally tarnished. We need to get to the truth and we cannot afford to waste any time on listening to excuses or denial.” No one uttered a word but the looks from those in the security services spoke volumes. He nodded at Louise who had already marshalled her paperwork and laptop to begin the review.