When the Killing Starts (The Blackwell Files Book 8)

by Steven F Freeman

  Alton recognized the voice and turned around. “Silva!”

  A nurse in purple scrubs stood behind a wheelchair. In it sat Silva with an annoyed expression. “I told them I could walk, but they were like, ‘No, we have to push you here.’”

  “It’s good to see you,” said Alton, limping over to his teammate. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Okay. My arm is okay, but…” Appearing more annoyed, she gestured towards a small pillow on which she sat. “I have to admit my butt still hurts like a mother.”

  “I can imagine. It’s good to see you up and around…sort of. You had us worried for a while.”

  By then, the other teammates had gathered around and took the opportunity to greet her. O’Neil’s eyes glowed. He said nothing but did produce the slightest of grins and nodded to her in acknowledgment.

  “I heard you all were working the case from here,” said Silva, “so I figured I’d come over to see what I could do to help.”

  “We could use your help,” said Alton. He used the next few minutes to get her up to speed on events since her injury. “I’m translating intercepted North Korean messages,” he concluded.

  “And I’m scanning through North’s Korea’s financial transactions from the last few months,” added Mallory.

  “What are you looking for?” asked Silva.

  “Northern citizens who have received a recent cash inflow.”

  Silva shifted her weight to her undamaged buttock. “Not to sound dumb, but how does that help?”

  “Once we see who’s getting the big bucks, we research their background. It’s a jumping-off point for a more detailed investigation. When a person in a cash-strapped country like North Korea suddenly has an abundance of money, there’s a good chance something shifty is involved.”

  Silva nodded, then turned to Alton. “What can I do?”

  “Once I decode the North’s e-mail messages, I’ve been passing some directly to Camron, Chegal, and Ru. I’ve run others through the translating program and sent them to Dunlow and O’Neil. We have hundreds of messages, so dividing and conquering is our only hope of finding anything useful in time for it to matter.”

  “Roger. What exactly am I looking for?”

  “Anything that feels out of place—a weird topic or a lot of focus on an otherwise unimportant person or place or event.”

  “Got it.”

  O’Neil wheeled Silva to an open spot next to him and retrieved her laptop from a black, nylon backpack. He set it up next to her and took his seat. During this interval, the rest of the team resumed their work.

  Alton scrolled through the list of unread e-mails. “So many messages,” he said as much to himself as to the others. “I wish I could call up my project team at Kruptos to help, too.”

  “You can’t?” asked Chegal.

  “No. They think I’m on a work trip.” He scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Which in a way is true…just not the type of work they think.”

  After nearly two hours, Alton sat back and stretched out his leg. Camron and Chegal had been comparing notes the last quarter hour and had grown more animated by the minute.

  “Have something?” asked Alton.

  “Maybe,” replied Camron as Chegal nodded assent. “Look at this.” He brought up a topographical map of the peninsula’s eastern coast. A line delineating the north/south border bisected the image. The rest of the team gathered around.

  Chegal zoomed in until the map centered on a dot surrounded by foothills.

  “What city is that?” asked Alton.

  “Yanggu,” replied the sergeant. “And it’s more like a village, not a city. It’s out in the countryside, near the border but not close to another city.”

  “What’s there?”

  “Not much. Certainly no military targets.”

  Camron’s fingers flew over his laptop. “The only large-scale operation there is…let’s see…this,” he said, pointing to a series of Korean characters on the screen. “Heat Wave Technologies.”

  “What do they do?” asked Mallory.

  Camron’s eyes flickered across the screen. He clicked through several tabs and studied the scrawl of information. “Hard to tell. Looks like they’re some kind of green-initiative think tank.”

  “Let me see what I can find out,” said David, turning back to his laptop. “The Secret Service might have a file on these guys.”

  “I’ll check my sources, too,” said Alton, “in case they don’t.”

  A half hour later, Alton started at the sound of Sergeant Chegal’s voice. “I’m sorry. What’d you say?”

  “I asked my superiors if they are familiar with Heat Wave Tech. They are not. Have you learned anything?”

  “Not much,” replied Alton as the team converged around his cubicle. “Like Agent Camron said, it looks like they’re researching sustainable fuels. But it’s hard to be sure. There’s not much detail online.”

  “I didn’t find a Secret Service file on them,” said David. “Do you think they’re working on some kind of hidden government project?”

  “But they’re not really hiding,” pointed out Mallory. “They’re listed online. They’re just not saying much.”

  “Maybe trying to keep a low profile to avoid corporate espionage,” said Alton. “That’s standard protocol in the tech industry when a new product is in development.”

  “The question is why would North Korea be interested in them?” said Mallory.

  “Do we know for sure that they are?” asked David.

  “Yes,” said a grim-faced Camron. “The more messages I review, the more references to Yanggu pop up.”

  “Same here,” said Chegal. “But my messages talk about the town without stating what’s planned there—if anything. And here’s another thought: the Northerners might be planning something in Yanggu that has nothing to do with Heat Wave.”

  “True,” said Alton, “but since much of our most heavily-encrypted electronic traffic continues to mention Yanggu, let’s consider the possibility that they have something planned at Heat Wave. It’d certainly make an appealing target: no big cities nearby…close to the border…and the company has minimal security.”

  “How do you know that?” asked the usually silent Corporal Ru, who had returned to duty with a heavily bandaged shoulder.

  “I did an online search of company images. There aren’t many, but there is a promo shot of the front of the building. When you zoom in on the picture, you can see a guard desk with a turnstile. That’s all they have.”

  “Ug,” said David, rolling his eyes. “No meaningful security to speak of.”

  “Exactly,” said Alton. He ran a hand through his hair. “If you’re a North Korean agent, both the city and the company would be pretty easy to penetrate. The question is why?”

  “Do you really think this is the target?” asked Mallory.

  “I’m not sure. But we don’t have any other leads, and whatever the North Koreans are up to, they must be wrapping it up soon or the Olchin diversion wouldn’t work. I say we follow this up. In the meantime, though, we’ll keep monitoring the North’s communications.”

  “I thought you said they’d be sending bogus messages to confuse us,” said David.

  For the first time in a while, Alton smiled. “About that…I have an idea, a way we could keep Nang’s death a secret from his North Korean handlers a little longer.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Commander Yun lowered himself into the wheeled chair next to the comm panel and tuned the transmitter to a new frequency. He leaned back in the chair to wait. As the time for Wave Two’s check-in approached, he kept an eye out for Dr. Tong.

  Sure enough, the steely eyed scientist burst through the Warren’s aluminum door. He stomped snow from his boots and approached, stopping a pace away.

  Agent Kam made a deep bow.

  Yun also bowed. “Dr. Tong, so good to—”

  “Never mind that,” snapped Tong. “Any word from the second mission team?”
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  “Not yet, but they’re not due to call for a few more minutes.” As if on cue, the radio on Yun’s comm desk crackled to life.

  Tong studied his watch. “They were nearly late.”

  Yun stifled a snort. Nearly late—also known as on time. No time to dwell on that now. Better to keep that observation to himself and focus on the incoming call.

  The encryption software infused the distant man’s voice with a metallic, robotic quality. “This is Captain Shao. Commander Yun, do you copy?” Despite the North Koreans’ general mistrust of foreigners, the capable Shao had risen through the military’s ranks within five years of his immigration from China.

  “I copy, Captain. Your status?”

  “On track. We should reach the target site at…let me see…nineteen hundred hours.

  “Good work.”

  “Sir…” Shao hesitated.

  “Yes? What is it?”

  “Is there any sign the American satellites have picked up our trail?”

  “No. At least there’s no chatter on that topic.”

  Shao produced a sharp laugh—a humorless, barking sound. “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “Look at the good side,” said Yun. “Olchin’s guards are hot on Wave One’s trail. Why would the guards suspect we have another team with a different objective?”

  “Let’s hope they don’t catch on. In the meantime, I’ll check in when I’m two klicks from the target site.”

  “Roger. Good luck, Captain. Yun out.” He turned his chair away from the comm panel and faced his two companions.

  “Sir,” said Kam, “earlier you told me the Olchin mission was a diversion…that Wave Two’s mission was the more important of the two. Is that what you meant when you mentioned a ‘different objective’ to Lieutenant Pi?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sir…what, exactly, is Wave Two’s mission?”

  Might as well take advantage of Dr. Tong’s presence. After all, the scientist would soon lead the investigation of Wave Two’s captured materials. Yun cleared his throat. “Dr. Tong, can you answer Agent Kam’s question?”

  “My pleasure.” The doctor produced a rare smile and assumed his best college-lecturer pose, hands behind his back. “Their mission is of supreme importance to our country. And thankfully, that operation is proceeding as planned, not like the Wave One debacle.”

  Tong’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Military missions are so much less predictable than lab experiments. Combining solutions A and B will produce compound C, each and every time. With people, though, you never know what will happen…”

  Kam interrupted Tong’s musing with some of his own. “Wave One…the attack on Olchin,” said Kam. “I still can’t believe it wasn’t the real objective.”

  Tong regained his focus. “That’s because like most of our countrymen, you assume that nuclear power represents our nation’s only avenue to improving our global standing. But there are other, more compelling opportunities.”

  “Such as…?”

  Tong smiled again, relishing his role as lecturer. “Nuclear technology is widespread. How does it help us to have a substance so readily available?”

  “But President Kim says we need it to thwart the attacks of our enemies.”

  “And of course, the president is right.” Tong began a slow pacing. “But does that mean we are to ignore other technologies, especially those that are not as common?”

  “So Wave Two’s mission is to…um…procure such a technology?”

  “Yes! I can see why Commander Yun likes to have you around. You’re a quick study.” He ceased his pacing. “This particular technology will propel us into a position in the world order that nuclear weapons could never produce.”

  “And what exactly—?”

  The blaring of Tong’s cellphone interrupted Kam’s question. The scientist answered his phone and launched into a rapid conversation, something about a lost shipment of decanting equipment back at his lab.

  Kam and Yun watching the scientist walk away with the phone glued to his ear.

  “Can you explain?” asked Kam.

  “Not as well as the good doctor could,” said Yun. He fixed the man under an intense gaze and felt the corner of his mouth turn up. “Don’t worry. Even if Dr. Tong doesn’t make it back here to explain his project, you won’t have to wait long. In a few weeks, the entire world will know what we’ve acquired.”

  CHAPTER 42

  “Al,” said David, rolling his neck and looking at the ceiling, “You know I have a lot of faith in you, but I don’t see how you’re gonna trick the North Koreans into thinking Nang is still alive. Once he doesn’t check in, they’ll know he’s either dead or busted. Either way, they’re gonna change up their transmissions, and we’ll be dead in the water—if we’re not already. Sayonara intercepted messages.”

  “Not if they think he’s been wounded and rendered unconscious.”

  “But he’s their mole, their normal source of information on our goings-on. How are you going to pass that little lie along to them now that he’s dead?”

  “Give me ten minutes, and you’ll see.”

  Alton’s disembodied voice crackled over the radio. “This is Agent Blackwell calling NIS Command. Do you copy?”

  On the other side of the room, Sergeant Chegal keyed a free-standing microphone. “NIS Command here. We copy you, Agent Blackwell.”

  “The enemy troops have left the Olchin security zone. We’ve lost contact with them. Request permission to continue pursuit.”

  “You may pursue up to the border. You do not have permission to cross the DMZ.”

  “But they—”

  “That’s final, Agent Blackwell.”

  “Roger that,” said Alton. “No crossing the DMZ.” He hesitated a moment. “Command, how is Agent Nang?”

  “Still in critical condition. He lost a lot of blood from the abdominal wound.” Chegal played his role to perfection.

  “Keep me posted, will you?”

  “Of course. Command out.”

  Five minutes later, Alton rejoined his teammates at a narrow table positioned in the middle of the electronics-surveillance room.

  “That should do it,” he said. “The North Koreans will think we’re still buying into the Olchin power-plant diversion.”

  “Why are you so sure?” asked Camron. “When Nang doesn’t check in, won’t they at least suspect us of trying to spread a little misinformation of our own?”

  “Normally, I’d say yes. But there’s this.” He removed the decryption device recovered from Nang’s body and set it on the table’s surface. The object’s matte-black finish reflected almost no light.

  Camron pursed his lips. “How does that fit in?”

  “Do you remember I mentioned at the beginning of this case that Kruptos is part of a consortium working to create quantum processors?”

  The analyst nodded.

  “Well, like I said back then,” continued Alton, “decryption algorithms that use quantum processors can crack RSA-based passwords, the kind everyone uses today.” He held Nang’s device up to the light. “This is a prototype of just such a decryption device. It uses quantum-processor cryptography. This technology is so cutting edge, the North Koreans will figure we have no idea our RSA-encrypted communications are being hacked. They won’t be expecting us to transmit misinformation.

  “The conversation Sergeant Chegal and I just conducted used RSA-based encryption. To be sure the Northerners could decode it, I also used an older cypher, one they cracked about two weeks ago. They should have no problem hearing the whole conversation.”

  David drummed his fingers on the table. “Makes sense. But if the North Koreans can decode all our transmissions, how are we going to communicate with each other without everything being intercepted?”

  “That’s where the Kruptos consortium comes in. We’re using quantum theory, too. In particular, we’re developing an encryption technique based on quantum entanglement.”

  “U
sing what?” asked David, taking a step closer.

  “It’s pretty cool, actually.” Alton warmed to the topic. “A central idea of quantum physics is that paired atomic particles affect each other over vast distances. You change the direction of spin on one, the other one changes direction, too. Scientists can’t yet explain how that works. But the good news is that we understand how to use one particle to evoke reactions from its distant twin. That means we can use the distant particle to decrypt a message. And since the decryption involves a physical reaction and not an encoding algorithm, there’s no code to be cracked. The problem with RSA-based passwords disappears.”

  David’s deer-in-headlights look prompted Alton to continue. “Look, you don’t have to understand all the details, but bottom line is that Nang’s decryption device can’t crack messages encrypted using the quantum-encoding technique Kruptos is helping develop.”

  “So we’re back to having secure communications,” said David, exhaling a sigh of relief. “But didn’t you say your consortium is working to develop this technique? That suggests you haven’t finished it yet.”

  “Not completely, no. But we’re in the prototype phase, just like Nang’s device. The software isn’t perfect, but it’s good enough for what we need—encoding our transmissions in a way the North Koreans can’t decode. As long as we keep sending out the occasional false message about chasing the enemy near Olchin, they’ll think we’ve bought into the whole decoy action.”

  “I’m confused,” said Mallory. “If the North Koreans have access to quantum-based encryption, why don’t they use it to encode all their messages? Why send anything we have a chance of decoding?”

  “Probably the same reason we’re not using it,” said Alton. “The technology is still in its infancy. We can use prototypes for critical missions like this one, but it’s not ready enough to roll out to the millions of users who would take advantage of it.”

  David glanced at his watch. “This is all fascinating, and I’m glad we’ll be able to keep monitoring the North—we hope. But don’t we need to get back to the problem of figuring out what they’re up to?”