ProxyWar

by D S Kane

  The door on Ann’s cell popped open. Misha nodded at her. “Hurry. Follow me.”

  He led them to a fire door and turned the knob. It wasn’t locked. Chow had done his job. They scampered down three flights into Sub-Basement Four and the door here was unlocked as well. Misha held Ann’s shoulders. “Ready?”

  Ann nodded. She pointed to the door. “In here?”

  Misha nodded back. “Now. We haven’t much time before they discover we’ve escaped.” He pushed the door open and they walked silently inside.

  The server room hummed.

  He pointed to a terminal. “There should be a USB port at the back end of the keyboard.”

  She ran her fingers along its back. Misha handed her the thumb-drive, and she inserted it into the port. A window in Russian Cyrillic popped up on the screen. “What does it want?”

  Misha studied the dialog box. “It needs to know what you want to do with files on the drive. The first alternative is to store the thumb-drive’s files on the server. The second alternative is to run one of its programs.”

  She selected the second alternative and another dialog box opened. “What now?”

  “Run Stuxnet II. It’s the second one on the list.”

  She highlighted her selection and pressed the Enter key. Another dialog box opened. “What’s this?”

  “You need to enter a password for the program to start.”

  Ann took a deep breath. “Michael gave me one that should work. It’s ‘Ratworm.’” She worked, her fingers pounding on the keyboard. Then, as she watched, screens flew by. She thought they might be finished until another dialog box popped up. “What’s this one say?”

  Misha frowned. “Unreadable file. Unrecoverable error.”

  She grimaced. “Crap. How long before they come looking for us?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno.”

  She keyed several commands. The dialog box was replaced by another.

  Misha read it. “Says we can proceed but program may not install correctly.”

  She nodded. “Okay.” Her index finger touched the Enter key.

  Misha read the next dialog box. “Says ‘Working.’ Wait. Says ‘Process Complete.’ Can we leave now?”

  She removed the thumb-drive and rose from the terminal seat. “Oh, yeah.” She faced Misha. “How do we get out of here?”

  Before he could answer, the room went dark. An alarm started ringing. In seconds, the emergency lights came on, blinked twice, and went out. The alarm stopped in mid-shriek.

  She smelled aroma of something burning. And crackling sounds from within the server room.

  Misha touched her shoulder. “We’ve just sent Russia back to the dark ages, my little one. We must leave as fast as we can. Follow me.”

  * * *

  William and Betsy waited at the security gate while the guard spoke in Mandarin on his phone. Betsy shifted her weight from foot to foot. William stood stock still, glaring at the guard.

  The guard listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. He nodded and hung up. “Your credentials give you access to the facility. You may enter.” He seemed unhappy to let them in.

  The building smelled faintly of cleaning fluid. Its walls were a faint yellow, just as they had been in its predecessor several years ago when Betsy, William, Jon, Avram, and just over sixty mercs had destroyed it.

  They walked through the lobby and turned down the left hall.

  “Before they rebuilt the facility, the left hallway led to the stairs down to the sub-basements.” William found the door to the stairwell and twisted the doorknob. “Let’s hope it still does.” It opened.

  But once inside, they found only a staircase going up. Betsy glared at him. “The plan is broken. What now?”

  William took a deep breath and thought it through. Maybe there is a stairwell in the right side hall. Maybe the staircase going down is further along the left hallway. But if someone saw us leaving this stairwell, they might raise an alarm. “Look, sweetie, I think we should leave this stairwell as quietly as we can and go further along the hall. Agree?”

  She shrugged. “Your game, your choice. I’m just your sidekick.”

  He smiled. “Okay, then.” He cracked open the door and peered out. Clear. They reentered the hallway and walked further. There was no other door leading anywhere, and they reached the corner of the building without finding a stairwell. A right turn was up ahead. He faced her. “Ready?”

  She nodded. He peeked around the corner. It was empty.

  She frowned. “I should have brought a mirror.”

  They turned in tandem and found another stairwell door. He opened it and they both pushed through. He could hear voices speaking Mandarin and the sound of footsteps rising on the stairwell. He faced her. “Follow, and don’t look at them.” He took the stairs at a fast clip, nodding to a pair of lab-coated men as he passed them. She turned her masked face away as she descended. They nodded back at William.

  Two floors down, he looked through the entry door’s window. Servers, scores of them, lined the walls and sat in positions throughout the room. He faced her. “Well, this is it.”

  She moved in front and opened the door. They both entered. He took special care to ensure there was no sound when the door closed.

  They searched for a terminal station. There weren’t any. She frowned. “How do we complete the job without a USB entry point?”

  He thought for a moment, and then pulled some wire and pliers from his pocket. “Guess we’ll have to enhance the hardware.”

  “Crap, Willy, what if we can’t make it work? We’re software experts, not hardware experts.”

  “No other alternatives. At least I brought some tools. We just try and try until it works.”

  “This just sucks the shit from assholes.” But she shrugged and pulled a Swiss Army knife from her pocket. She unscrewed the case on one of the servers. “Let’s try this spot. It holds a board where there are hard drive connections.”

  He nodded and studied the board. “Here.” He pulled a roll of electric tape from his pocket, placed a USB plug on a bare spot of metal, and taped connecting wires to the plug where he’d seen them on his own servers. Then he took a battery-operated mini soldering iron from his pocket and pressed the button on its side. The tip soon glowed. He heated the spot touching the ends of the wires to spots on the board where he remembered them being on his servers. The server didn’t hiccup.

  “Now to see if it works.” He inserted the thumb-drive into the USB plug. He could hear a shift in the sounds from the servers. “I think it automatically accepted the drive. I wonder if it needs another instruction to read and run the Stuxnet II program?”

  But the answer to that question came from the server itself. Lights in the server room went out one by one, then an alarm shrieked and the noise from the servers stopped. The alarm suddenly stopped in mid-shriek. He could smell smoke. The room lit up with flames.

  She touched his sleeve. “Get us out of here!”

  CHAPTER 39

  Private Air Terminal, Newark Airport,

  Newark, NJ

  February 24, 5:26 a.m.

  The sky was turning a light gray-brown as the sun threatened to rise. Avram and his mercs walked single file through the gloomy falling snow. He could see the airport lights, foggy, yellow pools. The moon was a dim outline behind the frigid cloud layer. He could no longer feel his toes or his fingers.

  Avram held his cellphone, using a flashlight app to light the way. He and Cassie were among the first in the long line, with Cassie’s bodyguards following close behind.

  Mercs carried Ben-Levy right behind Cassie. The old spymaster scanned the road ahead. “We should be about a half mile from the airport now. The private air terminal’s landing lights are the closest ones.”

  Cassie nodded. “Finally.”

  Ben-Levy thought about the absurdity of this mission. The United Nations was a pariah among many of its member nations. But he was sure it would be adequate for his mission�
��s purpose. Yes, it had always been his obsession. Although he held the belief that the community of nations couldn’t stop a massive war, he also believed that the people of those two aggressor nations would prefer their governments provide them with a peaceful life and good jobs. He believed they would rather overthrow their war-mongering leaders than permit them to wage a war at the expense of their citizens’ prosperity.

  And, yes, it hadn’t ever worked before. But the United Nations had curtailed several smaller conflicts. This would be their first real test. He wasn’t sure it would work but it was the only thing he could think of that might have any chance at all.

  His eyes fell in front of him, where the ghost of Aviva Bushovsky sang the Israeli national anthem out of tune. She was marching and holding a rifle. Will she follow me into death?

  He was running out of time. The pain he felt was now everywhere. Even his fingertips were on fire despite the freezing cold. He’d thought the airport was several miles from the PATH station, but they’d been walking for hours and the lights from the airport still seemed far away. He was unsure whether he’d even make it there alive.

  One of the advance scouts returned, breathless. He saluted Avram. “Sir, the airport is behind the highway overpass, but it’s mostly closed. They’re just landing aircraft that were up when their power failed. My guess is that they have less than an hour of generator fuel left before they go totally dark.”

  Avram returned the salute and nodded. “We must be in the air before they go totally dark. What’s the status of the private air hanger?”

  “No sign of hostiles. About a five-minute walk. We can use the overpass to cross the highway.” The soldier pointed about three hundred feet in front of them.

  Avram nodded. He examined the ground ahead and frowned. “It’s a choke point. We’ll be exposed.” He thought about how to plan their highway crossing. No, there was no way to do it safely. He sighed. They’d have to bunch up and cross as fast as they could. He turned to Ben-Levy. “Yigdal, can you run?”

  Ben-Levy shook his head. “I can’t even walk.”

  Avram turned and pointed to three mercs behind him. “Carry him.” He pointed to Ben-Levy. He estimated the length of time they’d be exposed. It was a death trap. “Listen up, everyone. We’ll crowd into a bunch and run across the overpass at a run, as fast as we can. Do not stop until you reach the fence, even if we’re fired upon. When you get to the fence, drop prone.”

  It took them several minutes to ready themselves. Avram examined his troops. Thirty-two mercs had survived so far. They were arranged six across and three feet between each row of soldiers. Cassie and her five bodyguards were in the final row. Avram stood in front. He raised his hand. “We go right now. Go. Go. Go!”

  As they moved across in a trot, Avram’s head swung left and right, scanning for trouble. So far, nothing.

  As the last person was leaving the overpass, Ben-Levy pointed toward the horizon about a hundred meters into the direction they’d been heading before crossing the highway. “Muzzle flash!” Lester Dushov fell. Blood spurted from his leg. Another flash and one of the mercenaries’ heads exploded.

  Avram scanned their position. Half his troops were in a safe position, prone against the fence surrounding the airport. Another twelve including Cassie and her bodyguards were still on the overpass, with four more in the no man’s land separating the overpass from the fence. Those four were now sprinting for the safety of the fence.

  Two more flashes and the mercs on the overpass all went prone. None had been hit. Avram thought of alternatives to get his six mercs, Cassie, and the five bodyguards off the overpass. No good ideas. “Cassie, keep your people here until we eliminate the snipers.”

  She nodded.

  He turned to one of the mercs. “Night vision, please.” He opened his hand and the merc slapped goggles into them. He examined the area where Ben-Levy had pointed. The heat-sensing feature highlighted about ten warm bodies for him, about eighty meters away. Two were behind automobiles wrecked at the roadside on the highway. Three more behind the highway separator and five spread out on the grass. He passed the goggles to Alister. “Ready all of our snipers. Take them all out simultaneously. If there are survivors, they will regroup. We don’t want that.”

  Alister nodded and spoke with several of the commanders. In less than three minutes they were ready.

  Avram took the goggles and put them back on. “Fire!” He watched as almost all of the enemies bodies jumped, then slumped. Two survivors rose and ran, but another round hit each of them and they too fell. He turned and faced his men. “Well done. There may be more, so remain vigilant. Go to the dead hostiles and see who they are and collect what they carry. Especially their communications devices. Bring the comm equipment back to me.”

  He called out to Cassie and the remainder on the overpass. “Run here now.”

  He walked to the medic tending to Lester Dushov. “How is he?”

  The medic continued working to stanch the blood flow. “Hit an artery and broke his leg at the thigh. Moving him might increase the bleeding. I recommend we get him to a hospital.”

  Avram looked around at the darkness. He wondered what good it would do if the hospital’s surgery amphitheaters had no electricity. “Take an armed merc with you. And take two soldiers to carry Dushov on a stretcher.”

  He calculated what transporting Dushov would do to his total available headcount. Thirty mercs minus the two stretcher bearers, one guard, and one of his four medics left him with twenty-six. It would make a difficult mission nearly impossible. But there was no other workable alternative. “Better get going now.”

  The medic called over three soldiers and prepped Dushov.

  Avram turned to Ben-Levy. “We should be able to get to the fence, cut it, and make it to the private air terminal in under five minutes.

  Yigdal nodded. He seemed weaker.

  Two of the soldiers returned from inspecting the snipers. One held a bag filled with what looked modified cellphones. Avram raised his eyebrows. “What are these?”

  “Sir, I don’t know. We need to talk with Mr. Drapoff.”

  But Michael was right behind Avram. “Lemme see.” He picked one up and played with it for almost a minute. “It’s using a near-vertical incidence skyway. An NVIS. Not a commercial setup. Luckily I read Mandarin.”

  Avram frowned. “What is this ‘near-vertical’ thing?”

  “This is a lesser-known form of Internet-type communication, an obscure VOIP setup. This unit has about four hours of battery remaining before it goes dark. Until then, we can hear everything they say. And although my understanding of Mandarin is nowhere as good as William’s, this device might well do us some good.”

  Avram scratched his chin. “What are they saying right now?”

  Michael listened to the chatter coming from the unit. He whispered, “Where are you, Echo One? Anybody? Am I the only one left?”

  The unit went silent. Michael pressed and held the Talk button. He spoke in Mandarin. “Echo One. I am hurt and the others are dead. But we terminated the targets. Every one of them. Please come and help me. I will need medical assistance. I’m bleeding out.”

  He released the button and translated his Mandarin to English for the others to share.

  Avram nodded. “Maybe he’ll come. Set up now, and if you see him, terminate him before he can communicate with anyone else. If he fails to arrive within a few minutes, we’ll assume he believes Echo One is now also dead, and he’s in flight to tell his superiors.”

  They waited for several minutes. No one came. Avram raised his hand to call their attention. It was time to move into the airport. One of the mercs cut the fence so they could enter.

  Just before they moved through the fence, one of their snipers fired a single round. “I got him, sir.”

  Avram sent a small team to see if the hostile was alive and could be questioned.

  But they returned without the hostile. One of the mercs said, “Dead, sir. Head blo
wn off.”

  They marched through the broken fence and trotted to the private air terminal. The three Cessnas Ben-Levy had rented were fueled and ready. With so many of his mercs now dead, they’d only need one.

  They all boarded. Avram asked the pilot, “How long to get to MacArthur Airport?”

  The pilot shrugged. “Maybe an hour, maybe ninety minutes, not counting landing. If their lights are gone, it’ll be dicey. Get your men belted into the seats.”

  Avram nodded, thinking, MacArthur is a less likely place to begin our drive into Manhattan. Then he thought, I hope.

  CHAPTER 40

  West of McArthur Airport,

  West Islip, New York

  February 24, 6:49 a.m.

  Right after they’d lifted off the runway, Avram tapped the pilot’s shoulder. “Don’t transmit a flight plan. Maintain radio silence and watch for antiaircraft weapons. You may have to take defensive action.”

  The pilot faced Avram, appearing to be more than a little nervous about this flight. “You mean Stingers?”

  Avram nodded. “Ever evade a Stinger?”

  The pilot shrugged. He flipped a switch to pull up the landing gear. “Two tours in Iraq.” Then he shook his head. “Twice I got lucky, the third time, well, not so much. Maybe the third time isn’t a charm.”

  Avram sighed. “At least you know what to expect.” He walked back to his seat, exhausted from the recent battles and alarmed by the thought that those to come might be more troublesome. So many of his mercs had already perished on this mission.

  As they crossed over Manhattan and headed due east, Avram took mental inventory of the matériel they still had in their possession. Each merc had an automatic rifle and a semiautomatic handgun, a benchmade knife, one flash-bang grenade, and a shrapnel grenade. Although they had started with over six hundred rounds of ammunition, he estimated they were down by half. One more battle and they would be down to handguns and knives.

  So far, they had fared well, but if indeed they were engaged again, he was sure they’d not be as lucky. There very well might be hostiles waiting for them to land at West Islip. What if the hostile they’d terminated outside Newark Airport had time to talk with his superiors before Avram’s mercs ended him? Whoever was coordinating this end of the operation might have had time to set up outside all of the three airports in New York. Including little-used MacArthur.