“This might be some of the best brandy I’ve ever put in my mouth,” Wagner said, holding up his glass in the gesture of a toast.
Caron followed Wagner’s lead. “Hear, hear.”
The two men clinked glasses before Sinclair sauntered over to the table to take the seat across from them. Parker remained undisturbed by the addition to the room, maintaining his gaze on his screen.
“What do you see, Mr. Parker?” Sinclair asked. “Is there something I need to be aware of?”
“I’m still running some numbers,” Parker said. “But at this point, I wish I could be a little more optimistic about future sales. You’ve done so much already, but nothing is creating much more than a slight upward trend.”
“Better than a downward trend. True?”
Parker nodded. “Well, of course, but—”
“Growth can be measured in more than one way,” Sinclair said, holding his right index finger in the air. “It’s not just about sales—at least, not always about them. You must build slow to go fast because when the deluge arrives, you best be ready.”
“It’s going to happen very soon,” Wagner said. “Just you watch.”
“How in the world do you expect to jumpstart sales on a high-end project like this?” Parker asked. “It’s not like people have boatloads of money lying around just waiting to invest in something like this.”
“Indeed, they don’t. But if you can create market conditions to inspire purchases, you can win the war,” Sinclair said.
“And how do you intend to do that?” Parker asked.
“We must increase the demand.”
“Do you have any tricks up your sleeve on this one?” Parker asked.
“Just you watch,” Sinclair said with a wry smile. “Now, if you’ll head to your quarters, we need the room.”
Parker scooped up his notepad and computer before scurrying down the hall. Once his door shut, Sinclair got up to pour himself a glass of brandy.
“You two are such a bad influence on me,” Sinclair said.
“Us?” Wagner asked, feigning innocence.
“We never do anything wrong,” Caron said in his thick French accent. “We are beyond reproach.”
The German and the Frenchman had not only become Sinclair’s sounding board as he navigated Obsidian to its ultimate destination, they had also become his most important allies. Without them, the organization would’ve never been able to fully achieve what Sinclair intended for it to do. The little dream he had a quarter of a century ago would’ve never emerged beyond infantile stages. But through some shrewd business moves and deft negotiating tactics, Sinclair had positioned Obsidian to achieve world domination—and all with hardly anyone noticing what they were up to.
Sinclair admired the dark wood grains enveloping the entire cabin, interrupted only by a few portholes. The blue water sloshed against the glass, allowing him to catch a few glimpses of sea life dancing beneath the surface. Taken aback by the wonder of nature, he almost forgot what he was doing there.
“What do you see out there?” Caron asked.
“Oh, pardon me,” Sinclair said, returning his gaze back to the men. “I sometimes get distracted by the ocean.”
“Fancying yourself as Captain Nemo?” Wagner asked with a chuckle.
Sinclair stroked his chin for a moment, considering Wagner’s tongue-in-cheek question. “I wouldn’t be opposed to such a characterization. After all, I don’t let anything stand in my way.”
“Well, we have plenty of obstacles blocking our path to fulfill stage four of your plan,” Caron said. “And it seems to me that we don’t have much time.”
Wagner nodded. “The Americans are onto us, at least, a handful of Americans. But everyone else—you know, the people who matter—is fully onboard.”
“It’s only a matter of time before the dissenters are silenced for good,” Sinclair said. “That much you can be sure of.”
Caron took another long pull on his drink before he got up to refill his glass. “We still have some problems though, some which need to be rectified more quickly than others if we’re to achieve our goal by the date we’ve set.”
“Anything less will make our investors upset,” Wagner added.
Sinclair laughed. “You use the term investors as if those people are actually central to the equation.”
“I know we don’t need them,” Wagner said. “But they are, for lack of a better term, the grease for our gears. The more they think they are part of what we are doing, the easier it will be for us to move.”
Caron cleared his throat. “And speaking of moving, how is our main project progressing?”
“Not as quickly as I’d hoped, but I do have a remedy for that,” Sinclair said.
“And what exactly do you intend to do?” Wagner asked.
“Parker!” Sinclair shouted.
Seconds later, the marketing guru emerged from his room and walked swiftly down the corridor toward the men. He wore his glasses off-center, the left side not quite connecting with his ear. Hugging his laptop and notepad, he stopped just inside the room.
“Did you call, sir?” Parker asked.
“Yes, I did. You asked me earlier what I had in mind to stir up the kind of publicity we need to gain interest in our product. Well, I have an answer, and I want you to get an announcement out to the press immediately.”
“Okay, sir,” Parker said, pulling a pen out of his pocket. “What is it?”
“Make an announcement that we will randomly select five thousand people to receive a Smart Home from everyone who downloads our app in the next two weeks,” Sinclair said. “We will build the houses free of charge for the lucky winners.”
Parker’s jaw dropped. “Did you say five thousand?”
“I did indeed, Parker. Now, chop, chop. We must get a move on. I don’t want to waste any more time.”
Parker nodded. “That should be sufficient to generate a worldwide buzz, sir.”
“Thank you for your approval, Parker. Now, begone.”
He finished scribbling down something on his paper before shuffling down the hallway.
“That’s your plan?” Caron asked. “I’m not sure that’s going to be very effective.”
Sinclair took a long sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the table. “Let me ask you a question. Have you ever heard of the South-east Queensland Black War?”
Caron shook his head. “Not that I recall.”
“Of course not. You’re French and you think French history is world history. But there was a time in Australia’s history where a war quietly raged between the native Aboriginal people and the colonialists.”
“And I suppose there’s a point to all of this?” Caron said.
Sinclair’s eyebrows shot upward. “But of course. You’ve known me long enough to know that I don’t waste my words. Now, when the English colonists arrived, they realized they were dealing with savages. But they didn’t attempt to civilize them all at once. They introduced some of them to the finer ways of life, essentially buying them to convince their own people to go along with the invaders. And after years of enduring guerrilla-type attacks from the Aboriginal people, the colonists gained enough support to squash the rebellion. And that wasn’t so pretty. Instead of money being handed out, ropes were—the type that swung from trees. The rebellion slowly folded after that.”
“What are you trying to say?” Caron asked.
“You buy your way in before you break their will,” Sinclair said. “But don’t you worry; our approach is multi-pronged, one that I doubt anyone will see coming.”
Wagner leaned forward, a smile leaking across his face. “So, is it time?”
Sinclair ran his finger around the rim of his drink and didn’t look up.
“Make it happen,” he said.
CHAPTER 9
Copenhagen, Denmark
MIA CLUTCHED HER PASSPORT as she waited in line to be beckoned forward by the customs agent. She tugged on her backpack straps as
she glanced around at the travelers attempting to enter the Scandinavian country. As she did, she wondered how many of them were just like her, pretending to be someone else for other nefarious means.
Hacking into the CIA database wasn’t anything she ever imagined doing once she agreed to start working for the Phoenix Foundation. She was supposed to use her expert skills to defend the country, not attack it herself. But she didn’t mind. Over the years, she’d learned that the American government wasn’t as innocent as it made itself out to be. While every U.S. Secretary of State in her lifetime had bemoaned the corruption of foreign governments, in her short time in Washington, she’d learned such unscrupulousness was just as rampant there as anywhere else.
An agent stared vacuously ahead as she gestured with her hand for Mia to step up to the booth.
“Papers, please,” the woman said.
Mia slid her passport beneath the half-circle window on the counter and waited. She forced a smile when she noticed the agent eyeing her. A few seconds later, the woman picked up her stamped and jammed it onto a page before sliding the book back to Mia.
“Next,” the woman said.
Mia resisted the urge to smile. Embarking on her first mission alone meant she’d more than earned the trust of those she once fought against, albeit on the battlefield of the internet. Eventually, she would enter into the war once again, but she couldn’t do it alone. She needed to enlist some help. She needed Lord Override.
The Danish hacker with the ominous name was someone she’d worked with in the past. However, he never knew it since all of his dealings were with her deceased brother who handled all the public interactions on her behalf, acting as her. Convincing him that she was Helenos-9 would likely be a bigger challenge than breaking through the CIA firewall, due to one well-known fact: Helenos-9 was dead.
Allowing everyone to believe that her brother was indeed the infamous hacker made her escape into complete anonymity that much easier. But at the moment when she needed to reconnect with someone she worked with so well, her short-sightedness was glaringly apparent.
Once she reached the ground transportation zone for the airport, darkness had already set in. Headlights blinded her as vehicles swung around the corner and pulled up to the curb. She caught a ride to her hotel and settled in before heading out into the nightlife district of Copenhagen.
Mia’s brother had made several trips to Copenhagen to meet up with Lord Override. He liked to work in a nightclub, which is why her brother became fast friends with the Danish hacker. They would throw back drinks beneath the pulsating rhythms of Europe’s underground dance scene and talk about their most recent cyber conquests.
The club Lord Override frequented most was called Mayhem, housed in the basement of an old textile mill. From the outside, it appeared like little more than an inviting canvas for graffiti artists to display their work. But the inside consisted of an ambiance that was designed for the techno music fan. Flashing lights flickered to the beat of the thumping music with a bass so deep she could feel it in her chest.
Lord Override was huddled in the back with a few friends throwing back some drinks. He wore a black baseball cap sideways, along with a thick, gold chain around his neck. The left side of his face was tattooed with a string of binary numbers. She wondered if the tattoo or his vaunted status as a black hat hacker was the reason he only went out at night.
As she approached his table, a man sitting closest to the end hopped up and held his hands out, warning her to stop.
Mia kept walking before the man stepped forward, impeding her path.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I need to speak with Lord Override.”
The man glanced over his shoulder at Lord Override, who gestured for her to join them. Before he granted her access, the bodyguard patted her down. When he was finished, he slid aside and allowed her to pass.
Lord Override cocked his head to one side and squinted. “Have we met before?”
She nodded. “In a way.”
He flashed a wide grin. “And what way is that?”
She sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “We need to talk—alone.”
Lord Override glanced toward one of the back rooms and asked the men to get up so he could leave. He held out his arm for her like a gentleman, catching her off guard.
“You didn’t think I was a chauvinist, did you?”
Mia shrugged. “We’re only talking.”
“Of course,” he said. “What else would we do?”
Once they reached the room, he closed the door behind her. Her mouth went dry as she realized the potential danger she was now facing. She forced a smile as she sat down. The knife holstered on the inside of her thigh felt cold, but she was confident she could get to it in time if necessary.
Lord Override wasted no time with small talk. “Who are you? And who sent you?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“It’s clear that you’ve never done this before,” he said. “You look like you’re about to throw up. So, it’s clear to me that you’re a first-timer, probably wondering if I’m going to kill you or not. But I know you wouldn’t even have dared to approach me unless you have a job for me and money to boot. So, again—who are you? And who sent you?”
“You need to stick to hacking because your profiling skills are deficient. If you only knew …”
Her words trailed off as she studied him closely.
“Look, I don’t have time for this mystery game you’re trying to play. But if you don’t get to the point, I’m going to have you thrown out of here.”
“I’m Helenos-9, and I need your help,” she said, her face stoic.
He stared at her for a moment before breaking into a laugh. “Speaking of skills that are lacking, you might possibly be one of the worst liars I’ve ever met in my life.”
“I’m not lying.”
Lord Override shook his head as he paced, circling her as he did. “First of all, Helenos-9 was a man, a man I spent plenty of time with here. So, you’re either delusional or failing miserably at bullshitting me.”
Mia didn’t flinch at his accusation. “If you don’t believe me, ask me about the projects that we worked on together.”
“We’ve never worked on any projects together.”
“We didn’t hack into the computers at the Russian consulate in Berlin to find out where a Ukrainian hacker was being held?”
Lord Override stopped pacing. “Wait. How did you—”
“We didn’t drain the bank account of an Argentinian drug dealer and place it in the account of a non-profit that was helping the people suffering from the famine in Africa three years ago?”
“But—”
“And didn’t we hack into the Chinese government’s intelligence database, exposing the detention camps housing thousands of people who had spoken out against the government?”
“Okay, okay,” Lord Override said. “Let’s suppose for a moment that I believe you. How come we’ve never actually met?”
“The person you thought to be Helenos-9 was really my brother. He was the face of our operation, which we ran together. But he couldn’t even hack into his university’s database to change his transcript, much less do any of the things I mentioned.”
Lord Override resumed pacing, templing his fingers. He placed them against his lips and squinted as he formulated his next thought. “This sounds like a fanciful tale, one that you concocted after you dug through his personal records. So, I’m going to need to know something more personal, something you wouldn’t be able to find on any of his laptops.”
“You ask the question,” Mia said. “He told me everything.”
“One night we were drinking at Mayhem and I told him the proudest moment in my life. What was it?”
“You’re trying to trick me, hoping I’ll slip up and name one of your more famous hacks, maybe your most famous one when you hacked Wall Street and sent the stock market into a free fall for six hours. But that’s not what my b
rother told me about you. He said you told him your proudest moment was when you held your son, Felix, in your arms for the first time.”
Lord Override stopped again and crossed his arms. “This is a cruel trick, isn’t it? Anyone could’ve guessed that.”
“Perhaps I guessed at that, which I didn’t. But how else would I know that your favorite DJ is Kasper Bjørke or that you’ve probably been drinking glogg tonight even though all your friends love akvavit or that the only sport you’ll watch on television is tennis. Yep, I probably just guessed all that.”
He gasped. “You were twins.”
She nodded. “Inseparable until we got older, but, yes, twins.”
“He did tell you everything.”
“How else would I have known to look for you here?”
“I cried when I heard he died,” Lord Override said. “And I rarely cry.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It took me some time to get over it, but I’ve only just now come to terms with it myself.”
The two embraced. Mia fought back tears for a few seconds, finally letting them flow when she noticed the light glint off Lord Override’s tear-stained cheek. After a long minute, they both sniffled and wiped the corners of their eyes before stepping back.
Lord Override held onto Mia’s shoulders. “So, I suppose you didn’t come here just to tell me that your brother died but my true partner in crime is still alive, did you?”
“I have a job for you, one that requires your level of expertise,” she said.
“Anything for you,” he said. “Just name it.”
“When my brother died, the CIA was onto him. Now, they’ve frozen all our assets, somehow figuring out all our joint accounts.”
“You had nothing in your own name?”
“I had a little. But we were twins. It was a trust thing.”
Lord Override nodded. “So, you want me to help you unfreeze it?”
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