FireWall ns-3

by Andy McNab

  There was a switch on the wall near by, and you didn't need to be a brain surgeon to work out what it did. When I flicked it, a motor whirred above me in the ceiling. I watched as they began to open from the center. It was dark outside, but the living-room lights exposed a long narrow balcony beyond triple-glazed sliding doors. Virgin snow lay three feet deep all along it, resting against the glass. A little further out, the tops of a few snow-covered pine trees were also visible, but beyond that was inky blackness.

  I turned, hearing bare feet moving toward me. Liv was six or seven steps away, wearing a blue silk bathrobe which finished just above her knees, exposing each thigh in turn as she moved.

  Two more steps and she reached past me and hit the switch. She smelled as if she'd just stepped out of the shower.

  The motor whirred and the blinds began to close again. She took a step back. "Nick, the blinds must remain closed at all times when Tom is working on the computer." She waved a palm in the direction of the sofa. "Shall we sit?"

  As she crossed the room, I followed. She saw my eyes flick to the blinds and guessed what I was about to say. "Yes, Nick, before you ask, they are lined with lead. The whole house is. Valentin doesn't like his competitors learning what he's doing. Millions of dollars are spent accessing information about rivals in this business. He ensures that it's money wasted as far as spying on him is concerned. Valentin knows the true value of information-not money, but power."

  "So that's why no phones?"

  The blinds finished closing as we sat facing each other on the sofa. As she tucked her legs underneath her, the silk followed the contours of her body.

  "Please, Nick, will you tell Tom? House rule."

  "No problem. But will you do me a favor in return? It would make things a lot easier for us if you didn't tell Tom anything about the Maliskia, or about the deal we have. He's a worrier and I want him to concentrate on the job." The last thing I needed was her telling him how much money was really involved.

  "Of course," she smiled. "I never have a problem with keeping information to a minimum. On the other hand, I also find it better to tell the truth about important matters. Maybe Tom would be better off knowing about the Maliskia, and the money, rather than possibly finding out at a later date? Lies can be so confusing and counterproductive; but then, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that, do you?"

  I wasn't too sure if it was a rhetorical question; whatever, I wasn't going to give her a full answer. I shrugged.

  She leaned forward to pick up the book on the coffee table, and as she settled back, her silk bathrobe fell down on either side of her legs. I tried not to look, but couldn't help myself. Liv was one of the most beautiful, attractive, and intelligent women I'd ever seen. It was a pity I had champagne tastes and a lemonade budget. I would never have what it took to attract somebody like her, and, sadly, she didn't strike me as the sort to dispense charity shags to the poor.

  She pulled the gown together as she caught my eye. "Does this bother you? You English are so strange; you're so repressed."

  "What about you lot?" I grinned. "You seem to be so reserved with strangers, yet think nothing of sitting naked with them in saunas, chatting about the weather. Then you charge out and roll naked in the snow, beating yourselves with birch twigs. So who's playing with a full deck?"

  She smiled. "We're all prisoners of our past, and maybe we Finns more than most."

  That one got me knitting my brow. It was a bit too deep for me.

  "I don't expect you to understand this, Nick, but Nordic myth is more deeply ingrained in our psyche than in any of the other Scandinavian cultures. Probably a legacy of all those centuries of Swedish and Russian domination." She tapped the book. "A collection of Finnish folklore. See, we're captivated."

  "I'm more of a Harry Potter man myself," I said. I didn't know what the fuck she was talking about.

  It was her turn to look puzzled. She probably thought he wrote spy thrillers, or whatever crap I read.

  "Nick, I need to finalize some drop off' she corrected herself "dead letter box details with you for the information and money exchange. We shall all go to Helsinki in the morning, even if Tom hasn't got through the firewall by then. It's important that he isn't kept in the dark."

  I opened my mouth to speak, but she seemed to have accessed my own firewall. I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or alarmed by the fact that she seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.

  "Nick, I've already told you there is nothing to be concerned about. No one is looking for you there. Otherwise it would be pointless going, wouldn't it? We all want you to be successful, so why would we be taking such a risk?"

  That made sense, but it was less than a week since Carpenter had turned Helsinki into Dodge City, and I didn't want to find myself next door to anyone who mistook me for one of his close personal friends.

  "Once you and Tom have left tomorrow night, you must never return here, whatever happens. That way this place remains secure. In any event, no one will be here, as I am leaving soon after you. I will take anything you want to leave behind, and return it at the exchange. You are to make your way to the DLB on Wednesday morning and leave details for a meeting between just the two of us.

  "The details of the exchange are totally your concern. Valentin wants to give you control of the arrangements, as a gesture of good faith and to give you confidence that nothing uncomfortable will occur during the transaction. To help ensure this, you will still be in contact exclusively with me." She gave me the full benefit of those wonderful eyes. "Do not worry, Nick, this business is not being conducted in a way that jeopardizes any of us."

  I tried not to laugh. Maybe she hadn't noticed how people like Val conducted business. If he didn't have control of an apartment building he'd blow it up, no matter who was still inside. I wasn't quite ready to assume he was my new best friend. In the meantime, I would pick the time and place, and they would come to me. It made sense.

  I nodded. "What if I don't make the dead letter box?"

  "If you don't, Tom will. That is why he needs to be with us tomorrow.

  If there's no message for me by Wednesday evening, I'll know that something is seriously wrong and the deal is off. Sometimes you win, other times " She shrugged.

  There was silence for a moment or two. "How did you come to meet Valentin?"

  "Like you, he asked me to work for him." She smiled, crossing her legs. "And no, Nick, I'm not his mistress."

  She'd read my mind again. Three hundred years ago she would have been burned at the stake.

  "The only thing he wants from me is my doctorate in Russian political science. You see, Nick, this is where the money is for now. And the fact is, I enjoy that money. I work hard and I'm well rewarded."

  She sat back, and when she spoke again her voice was low. "My parents were Swedish. They are both dead now. I was born here, in Finland. I am a Finn. There, that is all you need to know about me. But what about you, Nick? Why did you become a kidnapper? Did you not work for the British government?"

  I coughed, trying unsuccessfully to hide my embarrassment. It made sense that she would know: If she knew about the connection between Tom and me, then there was a whole lot more she probably knew, too. So much for being a deniable operator. I suddenly wasn't enjoying this as much as I thought I was going to. "Money," I said. "Just like you.

  Maybe we're the same."

  She gave me her most inscrutable Mr. Spock look. "Of course. That is why you are here." Her face broke into a smile. "Are you married?"

  "Divorced."

  "What happened, Nick? Did she not like to live with lies and half-truths?"

  "I think she just didn't like living with me." I paused. "I used to be in the military and-"

  "Yes, Valentin knows about your military past, Nick. That is one of the reasons you are here."

  What else did he know? I didn't like the postman knowing what I looked like, let alone the head of a major organized crime group. It made me feel very uncomf
ortable.

  I said, "What about you? Are you married?"

  "I'm not so sure it would be a good idea. And being a mother? It does not interest me. Do you have children?"

  "No." I made light of it. "I can just about manage to look after myself. It would be such a responsibility. What would I do if they became ill?"

  She gave me a level look. "I think we have both done the right thing, Nick, don't you?"

  I tried to read her expression and failed again. I didn't reply for a while, and when I did I answered one question with another. "Are you staying with us all the time, Liv?"

  "I'll come and go. But essentially I'm here to make sure things run smoothly." She adjusted herself on the sofa. I got another glimpse of thigh as she tapped the book by her side. "There is a story in here about Vainamoinen, the creator of the Universe. One day he has an encounter with Joukahainen, a much younger god. The two meet riding on a narrow path and neither wants to give way. Joukahainen challenges Vainamoinen, with all the eagerness of youth and limitless self-confidence. The battle is waged by chanting magical songs, and ends with Joukahainen finding himself in a bog. You see, Nick, he simply didn't know who he was dealing with."

  I took the point. Knowing who you're dealing with had always been a big thing with me. And right now the message seemed to be, they did and I didn't.

  "What time are we leaving in the morning?"

  "Eight. Will you tell Tom?" She yawned. "Time for bed, I think.

  Good night, Nick."

  I watched her walk toward the door. "Night, Liv."

  She disappeared into the other half of the house. I couldn't help a smile of regret when I realized that her leaning across me to flick a wall switch was the closest we were ever likely to get. Will of the gods and all that.

  17

  Monday, December 13,1999 We headed south along the highway toward Helsinki, all dressed exactly the same as yesterday. Tom had headed straight for the back seat and crashed out, which left me with the option of joining him or sitting next to Liv in the front. I knew what I wanted to do, but I felt I should give her some space.

  It was nearly 8:45, and after thirty minutes of staring at headlights it had begun to get light. It was going to be a sunny day; there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the unfolding view of pine trees and glittering snow was straight out of a ski brochure.

  I looked across at Tom, headphones on and eyes closed. The scenery was lost on him. He was fast asleep, his head bouncing gently in time with the 4x4's movement. He'd been up late at his screen.

  I'd got him to bring all his documents, even on this shopping trip. I told him it was just in case we needed to leave in a hurry-"Be prepared, Tom, know what I mean?"

  He hadn't been too keen on coming, because after working much of the night, he was close to breaking the firewall. But I agreed with Liv; he needed to be aware of the game plan. We were both acting for our own selfish reasons. If there was a problem on target and Tom was the only one to get away, she had to know there was still a chance she could get the data to Val. And I wanted him along because, if I broke a leg, or wasn't able to make the DLB to collect, my money for any other reason, I wanted Tom to be able to do it for me.

  Another forty minutes and we hit Helsinki city limits. Liv gave me a guided tour as we came in, pointing out some landmarks and proudly telling about how her tiny nation had routed the Red Army in the 1940 winter war. All the while, Tom's head bounced about beside me.

  It was quite strange seeing the place during the day. I'd never come in until last light during the recces for Val's lift; there was no reason to expose myself and the team to CCTV and the security setup for the EU conference. No matter what the environment, it's always better to recce in the dark, and in this place there was plenty of it.

  The city looked older than I'd been expecting; the airport and Intercontinental were both modern buildings, and Tom's ranting about how cutting edge the place was had led me to expect a city full of buildings out of Blade Runner.

  As we weaved toward the center, the heavy morning traffic jockeyed with the streetcar to gain ground, but was generally well behaved.

  "I think it's time for Tom to pay attention now, Nick."

  I gave him a shake.

  "What? What?" His eyes opened and he stretched as if he was coming out of hibernation.

  I pointed at my mouth, indicating to him that he'd do well to wipe the dribble from his chin.

  "Cheers, mate." He looked outside at the traffic. "This Helsinki, then? Looks just like the virtual tour."

  Liv smiled. "I think you will find the real thing a bit chillier."

  We turned a corner, passing a large illuminated sign telling us that this department store was called Stockmann. She pointed at the large window displays as we drove past. "We'll meet in the coffee shop on the sixth floor. The station is just a couple of minutes' walk away."

  We drove on a couple of blocks before stopping. As I got out, I felt the bitter cold for the first time that day. With the garage being a sealed, heated part of the house, the open air hadn't had a chance to get at us. She looked back at me through the rear doors as I put my hat and gloves on. "I'll see you both in Stockmann in two hours.

  You'll need about half an hour to check out the station."

  I nodded and turned to Tom. "We'll use the rest of the time to get our stuff."

  I closed the door of the 4x4 and she drove off. Our breath hung in clouds in front of our faces and every inch of exposed skin prickled with the cold. Tom didn't like it one bit. "Arctic or what, Nick?

  For fuck's sake, can we get inside fast?"

  The station was in front of us. It looked like an East German prison, very square and imposing, faced with what looked like dirty brown concrete. It could have been used as a backdrop for 1984. I checked the clock tower with Baby G and they agreed to the minute: 10:22.

  As we joined the rest of the pedestrian traffic waiting obediently for the little green man, Tom frowned and said, "Nick?"

  "What?" I was concentrating more on looking for a gap between the streetcars that I could dash through. I had no intention of freezing to death, waiting for little green men.

  "Do you trust her you know, Liv? You sure everything's sweet?"

  Liv's advice about being truthful flashed through my head, thankfully not powerfully enough for me to take it. I tried never to trust anyone, and after what had happened in Washington, I certainly wasn't going to now. There might not be too much time to do this job correctly, and I might be desperate for the cash, but I wouldn't be doing anything until I'd put my own and Tom's safety net in place today.

  The lights changed and we started walking. "Don't worry, mate, everything is fine. In fact, having a meeting point like this is one of the things that makes me feel better about her. It means these people are switched on and want the job done with no hassle. Don't worry about it."

  He shrugged. "Yeah, but what can you do to guarantee we ain't getting screwed, know what I mean? Are you going to do what she wants? You know, come back here and give her the Think Pad with the download and take the money? Or are you gonna ask for more? I bet it's worth a fortune."

  Even if the thought had crossed my mind, I wasn't going to admit it to him. "No, mate, I just want to do this right. Just exchange that little machine of yours for the money and get back to the U.K. That way everything stays safe and easy. Whichever way you look at it, it's still good money." All the time I had my smiley face on. I felt like I was trying to encourage a small child to eat his sprouts.

  I was expecting more questions, but he just shrugged his shoulders again. "Only asking, mate. If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me. Tell you what, she's tasty, ain't she?"

  I grinned. "Yes, she's very beautiful. Out of our league though, son." I somehow couldn't picture Liv kissing Juicy Lucy cards in Netting Hill, or spending her day sorting out my boiler.

  The main doors to the station were heavy and wooden, with porthole windows protected by metal grills. We
pushed through and immediately came face to face with Santa, who was ringing his bell and demanding money. We sidestepped him.

  The interior looked more like a well-kept museum than a railway station, with clean, stone-paved floors, thick granite supporting pillars and unbelievably high ceilings. Little snowmen hung from chandeliers, and the place echoed with public announcements, people talking, cell phones going off all over the place and, in one corner, a performer who was having a crack at the Finnish version of "Good King Wenceslas" on his accordion. The smell of cigarette smoke and fast food was strong and everywhere.

  A group of people with Santa hats on and sets of skis over their shoulders tried to squeeze past stressed-out businessmen in overcoats, furry Cossack hats, and cell phones glued to their ears. The strange thing was that you couldn't see or hear a single train-this was a cold-weather station and the platforms were outside.

  Tom rubbed his hands together. He liked it in here. "Christ, I almost feel human again. What now then, Nick?"

  Father Christmas carried on doing his stuff as we stood and got our bearings, and I thought "almost" was as close as Tom was ever going to get.

  Liv's DLB was very easy to find and, like the one at the Langham, sited well. We were standing with our backs to the main entrance. In front of us was a wide stairway and escalators that led down into the metro.

  The three sides of the stairway surrounded an open square of continuous wooden benches. The DLB was by a trash can on the left-hand side.

  Tom followed as I walked between the DLB and the large ticketing hall to our left, heading for a newsstand. A teenaged girl was sitting reading a magazine, ears full of Walkman, mouth full of gum. She was wearing navy-blue down snow pants under a matching jacket which was open to stop her sweating.

  I nodded at Tom just before we got level with her. "There it is, mate. See the girl in blue?"

  He nodded back and we carried on past.

  "Okay, if you put your hand underneath the bench, exactly where she's sitting, you're going to feel a plastic container attached by Velcro.

  All you do is make sure no one's looking and pull it off, go away and write a note telling them where they can find you, and they'll come."