by Andy McNab
She answered with evident pride. "We are one of the most technologically minded nations on earth. This country probably won't even have currency by the next generation, everything will be electronic. The government is even thinking of doing away with passports and having our IDs embedded on the SIM cards in our cell phones. We are at the cutting edge of what is possible, as these young men demonstrated. They had the skills to hack into Echelon, even if they lacked the street sense to know what they could really do with it." She waited as I took a sip of tea. The sandwiches had long gone. "Any more questions?"
I shook my head. There were many, but they could wait. If she was ready to explain the new proposal to me, I was ready to listen.
"Nick, I have been authorized by Valentin to tell you that the offer of money still stands, but your task has changed."
"Of course it has. Tom is dead and the NSA have Echelon back."
Her eyes locked on to mine as she shook her head. "Wrong, Nick. I didn't want to tell you this until the information was confirmed, but our sources believe the Maliskia have Tom. Unfortunately, we believe they also have the Think Pad This is very disturbing as it still has the firewall access sequence that-"
I fought to keep my composure. "Tom's alive? Fucking hell, Liv. I've been sitting here drinking the man was dead."
Her daughter-of-Spock face never changed. "The Maliskia think he's with the Finns. They naturally assumed " She waved her hands across the table. "Remember, they also want access to Echelon."
"So you want me to get Tom back."
"Before I tell you the objective, Nick, I must explain a complication."
A complication? This wasn't complicated enough?
She bent down and lifted her boyfriend's briefcase onto the table. It was dark outside now and Christmas lights twinkled in the marketplace.
Liv opened the case. Inside was a laptop, which she fired up.
I watched as she reached into her coat and brought out a dark blue floppy disk in a clear plastic case. As she inserted the disk I heard the Microsoft sound.
"Here, read this. You need to appreciate the situation completely so you can understand the gravity of the task. I could just tell you all this, but I think you might want confirmation."
She handed the briefcase over to me, the floppy still loading as the laptop did its stuff before displaying it on the screen.
The disk icon came up on the desktop and I double clicked it.
Adjusting the screen and ensuring that only I could see its contents, I started to read as the group from outside came in and greeted their friends, and lost no time in showing them their purchases of Russian-style fur hats and reindeer-meat salamis.
There were two files on the disk. One was untitled, the other said, "Read Me First." I opened it.
I was presented with a Web page from the London Sunday Times, dated July 25 and displaying an article entitled, russian hackers STEAL U.S. WEAPONS SECRETS.
Liv stood up. "More tea? Food?"
I nodded and got back to the screen as she went to the counter. By now the tourists were a group of six and making enough talk for twelve.
"American officials believe Russia may have stolen some of the nation's most sensitive military secrets," the article began, "including weapons guidance systems and naval intelligence codes, in a concerted espionage offensive that investigators have called operation Moonlight Maze."
The theft was so sophisticated and well coordinated that security experts believed America might be losing the world's first cyberwar."
The hits against American military computer systems were even defeating the fire walls that were supposed to defend the Pentagon from cyber attack. During one illegal infiltration, a technician tracking a computer intruder watched a secret document be hijacked and sent to an Internet server in Moscow.
Experts were talking of a "digital Pearl Harbor," where an enemy exploited the West's reliance on computer technology to steal secrets or spread chaos as effectively as any attack using missiles and bombs.
With just a few taps on a computer laptop it seemed anyone could totally fuck up any advanced nation. Gas, water, and electricity utilities could be shut down by infiltrating their control computers.
Civil and military telecommunications systems could be jammed. The police could be paralyzed and civil chaos would take over. Fuck it, these days, who needed armies?
Even top-secret military installations whose expertise was intelligence security had been breached. At the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Command (Spawar), a unit in San Diego, California, which specialized in safeguarding naval intelligence codes, an engineer was alerted to the problem when a computer print job took an unusually long time.
Monitoring tools showed that the file had been removed from the printing queue and transmitted to an Internet server in Moscow before being sent back to San Diego. It was not clear precisely what information was contained in the stolen document, but beyond its role in naval intelligence, Spawar was also responsible for providing electronic security systems for the Marine Corps and federal agencies.
It was suspected that several other intrusions had gone undetected.
The piece went on to say that President Clinton had called for an extra $600 million dollars to combat the problem of Moonlight Maze, but that still might not be enough, as China, Libya, and Iraq were developing information warfare capabilities, and, according to one White House official, so were certain well-funded terrorist groups. It didn't take much imagination to think of the damage Osama Bin Laden and his friends could do if they got their hands on it. As for the massive Russian probing, that could very well be the Maliskia.
I double clicked the next file. What came up on screen confirmed the story of the hit against Spawar in San Diego could very well be true.
The Sunday Times might not know what was in the file, but I did now.
The Naval Intelligence crest in front of me headed a list of maybe fifty code words that corresponded to radio frequencies.
Liv sat down with more tea and sandwiches.
"Have you read both?"
I nodded, and as I closed the files and ejected the disk, Liv leaned over and held out her hand. "Nick, you can help stop this from happening if you want to."
I passed the disk over and started to shut down the laptop as she continued. "The Russian government aren't the only people who buy this information from the Maliskia. So can anyone with a big enough checkbook."
Obviously Val's was big enough, otherwise I wouldn't have been reading the code lists.
"As I said before, Nick, if they get Echelon capability and start to exploit it, even without selling the information to others, just think of the consequences. They are already on the way to achieving the capability to close down the U.K. or U.S. with their Moonlight Maze operations; with Echelon they will have complete and unrestricted access to any information worldwide-state, military, commercial..
You can stop it, Nick, if you want." She paused and looked me straight in the eye.
I handed the briefcase back to her across the table. She was right. If this was the truth, it was an offer my conscience couldn't let me refuse. The idea of these machines listening to everything we did and said was very Big Brother, but shit, I'd rather have just the agreement countries accessing it than everybody and their brother with enough cash. As for the leak of military information, that had to be stopped. I didn't give a shit about people finding out about the latest surface-to-air-missile technical details or whatever. It was people's lives, including my own, that mattered. I had been part of enough fuckups where friends had died because of insecure information.
If I could stop it and come away with a suitcase full of money, it seemed to touch every base.
"So what exactly do you want me to do?"
She heard the acceptance in my voice. "You must destroy the Maliskia's Moonlight Maze capabilities and any advance they've made with Echelon.
That means, destroy the complete installation -computers, softwa
re, everything.
"This time, however, you'll be completely on your own. Valentin cannot be seen to be attacking the Maliskia. Any conflict would cause disharmony and distract him from his aim. So if you encounter a problem, I'm afraid he or I will not be able to help you."
I might be the most cynical man in the U.K. about the U.K." but I was not a traitor. And if all she was saying was true, I was sure that Val would be happy to open his checkbook a little wider, especially if I was having to go in singlehanded. I sat back and held up three fingers.
There wasn't a flicker in her face. "Dollars?"
Since she'd even asked the question, the answer was obvious.
"Sterling. The same arrangements as for the exchange."
She nodded. "Three million. You will be paid."
It worried me slightly that she'd agreed so easily.
"What guarantees do I have?"
"You don't. And there's no money up front But Valentin is well aware of the lengths you went to to track him down before, and that no doubt you'd do the same again."
"Correct." I didn't need to explain about never making a threat you cannot keep. She knew.
"As I've said a number of times, Nick, he likes you. You will get your money."
"So tell me, where is the installation?"
She pointed behind me, out toward the harbor and the sea. "It's that way. Estonia."
I frowned. The only thing I knew about Estonia was that it had been part of the old USSR." and now wanted to be part of NATO, the E.U." JC Penny's loyalty scheme, you name it anything to detach it from Russia for good.
"The population is still thirty percent Russian. The Maliskia find it easier to operate from there."
She lifted the cup to her lips and screwed up her face. The tea was cold.
There was one rather important point she seemed to have overlooked.
"If the Maliskia have Tom," I said, "I take it he'll be at this installation. Do you want me to bring him back here after I've lifted him or just take him back to London?"
She stared at me as if I was an idiot. "Nick, I thought you understood, Tom must be considered part of their capability."
She kept her gaze fixed on me for several moments while waiting for the penny to drop. It finally did. She saw it in my face. "I don't wish to state the obvious, Nick, but why else do you think Valentin would pay you three million? Tom must die."
I was almost lost for words. "But why? I mean, why don't I just get him out at the same time?"
"That's not an option, Nick. Tom will very quickly be coerced into helping them with Echelon. As we both know, he can breach the firewall. We know they have at least some of the software. We know they have Tom, and probably also the Think Pad As soon as it all links up, what's in his head, what's in his pocket, what's in the van "
She shuddered. "If the Maliskia get access to Echelon and add it to their Moonlight Maze capabilities, they will have all the ingredients for catastrophe. It will affect not only Valentin's vision for the East, but bring the West to its knees.
"Look, Tom has the Think Pad He has the ability to use it. The risk is too great. What if you are killed or taken before finishing the task? Even if you did rescue him he would still be in the country, and the possibility of capture by them is a risk Valentin is not willing to take. It is simply better that Valentin sacrifices Tom and the opportunity to access Echelon himself than risk the Maliskia having it.
No one, Nick, can afford for the Maliskia to have Echelon."
I was still finding this hard to accept. "But why not just tell the Americans? Val was going to tell them about the Finns' house."
"Unthinkable. What if they take Tom and he explains exactly what has been going on? Nick, I don't think even you would want that, would you? Tom would go back to prison for life and you'd be in the adjoining cell."
Bending down and placing the briefcase in her bag once again, she seemed to be rounding up. "I'm sorry, Nick, but I have many things to do now, as you can appreciate. We'll meet tomorrow at Stockmann, eleven a.m. in the cafe. That is the soonest that I'll be able to get more information. One thing is certain, after that you must leave as soon as you can. If the Maliskia have got Tom to cooperate, every hour counts."
I looked at her and nodded. "This new information, is it coming in on the 6:30 a.m. train from St. Petersburg?"
She didn't bat an eyelid. "Yes, of course. Nick, I want to apologize once more for what has happened. It was just that if you'd known exactly what was going on "
"I wouldn't have done the job in the first place?"
"Precisely. I must go now." She busied herself in standing up and fastening her coat. "I think I need about fifteen minutes."
I nodded. I'd get another tea while she got clear of the area, then I'd go and find out exactly where Estonia was and how the fuck to get there.
* * *
27
Thursday, December 12 1933 Ten minutes before she was due to arrive, I settled into a corner seat at the Cafe Avec in Stockmann. On my way over I'd stopped at an Internet cafe and checked out the Moonlight Maze story on the Sunday Times Web site. It was genuine.
The "Avec" seemed to refer to the fact that you could have your coffee with a shot of anything from the bar, from Jack Daniels to local cloudberry liqueurs. The locals were knocking them back like there was no tomorrow.
Placing two coffees and two Danishes on the table, I put a saucer over the top of Liv's cup to keep it hot.
The cafe was just as packed as when I'd been there with Tom. I'd spent a lot of time thinking about him last night, lying in my cheap and, more importantly, anonymous hotel room. The sad fact was that stopping the Maliskia from combining Echelon with their Moonlight Maze operations, and getting the money for doing it, was more important than Tom's life. Then I pictured him leaping to my defence after we'd come off the fence. Killing him was not going to be easy.
I had even considered going to the consulate and calling Lynn on a secure line, but then I realized I was losing sight of the aim, which was money. If Lynn knew, that would be the end of it. All I would get was a pat on the head if I was lucky. This way I got to pocket 3 million, plus I did democracy a good turn. It was bullshit, of course.
The trouble was, it even sounded like bullshit.
After my tea stop with Liv yesterday I'd gone straight down to the harbor to check out the ferries to Estonia. Its capital, Tallinn, seemed to be the destination for an array of roll-on, roll-off ferries, high-speed catamarans, and hydrofoils. The faster craft made the fifty-mile journey in only an hour and a half, but the girl at the ticket office told me there was too much ice floating in the Baltic and too much wind for them to make the crossing in the next few days. The only ones that could handle the conditions were the old-fashioned ferries, and they usually took over four hours, and because of the heavy seas they would now take even longer. Story of my life.
I took a sip of coffee as I sat looking at the long words in a Finnish newspaper and scanning the escalator. I was going to use the Davidson passport to go into Estonia, but had booked the ferry ticket in the name of Davies. Giving the name slightly corrupted always adds nicely to the confusion. If stopped for it, I'd just say it was the mistake of the people who did the ticketing. After all, English was their second language, and my cockney accent could be quite hard to understand when I tore the ass out of it. The method wasn't foolproof, but it might just muddy the waters a bit. I was sure the Firm would still be looking for Davidson now that he was connected with Liv and Tom. I didn't care how much they might have worked out, as long as there wasn't a picture of me to go with it, and thankfully the one in Davidson's passport wasn't much of a likeness. The mustache and rectangular glasses, plus makeup to change the size of my nose and chin slightly, worked quite well. If put on the spot, I'd say that I used contacts to read now and liked my new clean-shaven look.
I'd learned makeup from the BBC. Plastic noses and eyebrow sets are not what it's all about. As I dunked a corner of the Danish into
my coffee, I couldn't help a smile as I remembered spending four hours making myself up as a woman for the final session of the two-week course; I'd thought the shade of lip gloss I'd chosen particularly suited me. It had been a laugh spending the day shopping with my teacher "girlfriend" Peter, who was dressed up in quite a fetching blue number, especially when it came to going into women's rest rooms. I didn't like having to shave and wax my legs and hands, though. They itched for weeks afterward.
An insistent electronic burst of the William Tell Overture came from somewhere behind my left shoulder, followed by a brief moment of silence, then a burst of Finnish from an elderly lady.
Everybody in this country had a cell phone-I'd even seen small kids wandering around holding their parents' hands and talking into a dangling mike-but no one settled for the standard ring. You couldn't go five minutes in Helsinki without hearing The Flight of the Bumble Bee, snatches of Sibelius, or the James Bond theme.
I sat, dunked, and waited. I had the passports tucked uncomfortably under my foot inside my right boot, and I had $1,500 in hundreds, twenties, and tens in my left.
As for Mr. Stone, he was well and truly stuffed away in the bag at the railway station. The P7 and extra barrel were still with me and would only go into the railway bag at the very last minute. There was no way I could take the weapon with me to Estonia. I had no idea how heavy the security was on the ferry journeys Liv's head appeared first as the escalator brought her up toward me.
She was looking around casually, not specifically looking for me. The rest of her body came into view, wearing the black, belted three-quarter-length leather coat over her normal jeans and Timberland-type boots. She had a large black leather bag over her shoulder and a magazine in her right hand.
She spotted me and headed for the table, kissing me on both cheeks. Her hair was back on top form and she smelled of citrus. An English-language copy of Vogue landed on the table between us, and we bluffed away with the how-are-you? smiles as she settled into her seat.
