They were good, loyal soldiers.
And that didn’t explain what the hell they were doing assaulting an NSA convoy and kidnapping one of their prisoners.
He opened his eyes. “I’ll ask again, what the hell are you doing here?”
Dawson grunted. “Long story. Short version is the head of security for Temple Technologies is ex-Rangers. You’ve heard of Franklin Temple?”
“Is Niner emasculated just by the mere presence of Atlas?”
“Hey!”
Atlas’ impossibly deep voice responded. “You bet the little man is.”
Kane smiled, missing the comradery of the Unit. “What about Temple?”
“Well, his daughter died as a result of the ransomware attack earlier in the week.”
“I heard.”
“What you haven’t heard, is that he asked his security chief to find someone who would be willing to do whatever is necessary to bring those responsible to justice.”
“And by justice, you mean…”
“He wants them dead. Every one of them.”
Kane whistled. “Don’t really blame him, though it could cause some problems if it turns out to be the Russians or some other rogue state.”
“Exactly. Which is why their security chief called us, and I was sent in as ‘Mr. Simmons.’”
Niner twisted around and stuck his tongue out as far as he could while extending un-trademarkable devil horns at him, à la Gene Simmons of Kiss.
Atlas groaned. “Little man, I’ve seen baby cows with longer tongues.”
Niner gave him a pout then returned his attention to the road.
Kane ignored the exchange, still processing what Dawson had said. “So he thinks he’s hired an international hit team, but instead he’s got the American government doing his dirty work.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s nuts!”
Dawson chuckled. “That’s what I said, but it makes sense if you think about it. Delta is the only unit allowed to operate on American and foreign soil, and by actually playing his game without hurting anyone, we stop him from hiring someone else who might not have the same scruples we do.”
Kane rubbed the back of his head. “I’m not sure about that not hurting anyone bit, but I get it.”
Niner grunted. “Sorry, but like I said, I had to make it look real. And besides, you were about to blow our cover.”
“I was not!”
“You so totally were! I saw your jaw drop as soon as you recognized BD’s voice. What were you going to say? ‘Hey, aren’t you the talented and handsome Bravo Team from America’s finest group of soldiers, the Delta Force?’”
Kane gave him a look. “You know me so well.”
“Told ya.” Niner grinned at Atlas in the rearview mirror. “He thinks I’m handsome.”
Atlas eyed him. “Yeah, that’s the takeaway here.”
Kane returned his attention to Dawson. “So, what do you do when you actually have targets to eliminate?”
Dawson shrugged. “Control will decide if they should be eliminated, extracted, or left alone.”
“Will that be good enough for Temple?”
“We’ve faked deaths before. He’ll never know. But that’s not really the problem anymore.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“After his press conference, there’re reports coming in now of vigilante killings all across the Ukraine and the former Soviet Union. Even China has been trying to block any access to the press conference.”
“Any innocent victims yet?”
“Oh yeah. It’s being used to settle old scores. Like in the Philippines when Duterte basically declared open season on drug pushers and users. People started killing people they had beefs with, then tossed a bag of weed on the body. You can’t just declare a segment of society fodder, then turn a blind eye to whether or not someone is actually a member. What Temple hired us for initially, I can understand. Identify who was behind the attack, and bring them to justice. His press conference? That’s totally different. Too many innocent people are going to get caught up in this.”
“Have they confirmed he’s the one who took down the Internet in the Ukraine and Belarus?”
Dawson shook his head. “Not yet, though there’s little doubt. Right now, I’m more concerned with who Penn was working for.”
“You heard about the North Korean hit team, I take it?”
“Yeah, Control informed us on our way here.”
“I think your Control and my Control should talk, then there might not be so many surprises.” Kane rubbed his head again.
Niner, a Korean-American, turned back, leaving no hands on the wheel. Dawson cursed and reached over. “Next time, I’m driving.”
“I told Penn to get out of the car in Korean, and he did. His file says he’s adopted and unilingual, but I don’t believe it. He speaks the language.”
Kane nodded then pointed ahead of them. “Red light.”
The vehicle slowed perfectly, Kane’s eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out how Niner was managing it. He glanced to where Niner was staring then pulled Jimmy’s sunglasses off, the view ahead reflected in the lenses.
“Hey, you trying to get us all killed?” cried Niner as he turned around to face the front, swatting Dawson’s hands off the steering wheel. “I’ve got this!”
“Are you sure?”
Kane handed Jimmy his glasses back, worn to protect the eyes during an op as opposed to looking dashing. “Expecting trouble?”
Jimmy shrugged. “My Spidey senses are tingling.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed. “Wrong franchise, dude.”
He shrugged again. “I never asked to be pigeonholed with a nickname from Superman.”
“Uh-huh.” Kane turned back to Dawson when Niner cranked the wheel and they rapidly slowed.
“We’re here.”
“Good.” Dawson threw open the door and stepped out. He leaned back in. “You waiting for an engraved invitation?”
Kane shook his head. “It might be best if Penn doesn’t see me cooperating.”
Dawson nodded. “Good thinking.” He slammed the door shut, leaving Kane glancing around the now empty SUV. The engine of a truck started and he leaned forward, peering out the windshield to see Niner hop in the cab of a delivery van, everyone else, including Penn, climbing in the back. It pulled away moments later.
“Did those bastards just leave me in the middle of nowhere?”
His phone vibrated and he saw Niner wave out the driver’s side window, a phone in his hand. Kane peered at the display, a string of emoticons shown.
Waving hand.
Puckered asshole.
Flipped bird.
And a toothy grin.
Dawson glanced around at the others, giving them a look that told them to not ask any questions. Kane was undercover, and they still didn’t know how things would play out. “I’m sure you’re all wondering what happened with that agent we took. Turns out he knew nothing worth knowing.” He nodded toward Atlas. “Our hulking friend here put him out of his misery.” He turned to Penn, sitting between the massive Atlas and Dawson’s best friend, Master Sergeant Mike “Red” Belme. “Now, it’s time for you to talk.”
Penn’s eyes narrowed. “Umm, you’re, umm.” He appeared confused, evidently thinking he was among friendlies until this very moment. “Wait, who the hell are you guys? I thought you were sent to extract me?”
“We work for Franklin Temple. Heard of him?”
Penn nodded. “Of course, everybody has. What the hell does he have to do with this? And if you’re not…who the hell are you?”
Atlas leaned closer to Penn, squishing him between his shoulder and Red’s. “I’d say your worst nightmare, but I hate clichés.”
Dawson stifled a smile. “Mr. Penn, we have been contracted by Mr. Temple to bring justice for his little girl who died as a result of the ransomware attack earlier in the week. An attack you are responsible for.”
&nbs
p; Penn shook his head vehemently. “Bullshit, I had nothing to do with that.”
Dawson smiled slightly. “Mr. Penn, we both know you stole the NSA’s ToolKit after Mr. Hummel copied it to woo your former partner, Special Agent Graf.”
Penn again shook his head. “Never happened.”
“Cut the bullshit, Mr. Penn,” snapped Dawson. “My colleague spoke Korean to you, and you followed his instructions. According to your official NSA file, you don’t speak Korean. So how the hell did you suddenly learn?”
Penn said nothing, instead matching Dawson’s glare.
Clearly scaring the man wasn’t going to work. He was obviously a loyal foreign agent. But everything was pointing to hackers having launched the ransomware attack, not a foreign government, which meant the ToolKit had been sold by someone, and Dawson’s money was on the man sitting across from him.
And that meant he was also motivated by greed.
“Mr. Penn, you seem to be operating under the false assumption that you’re being held by the American government.”
This caught Penn’s attention, his eyebrows rising slightly.
“We are private contractors, hired to bring those responsible to justice. If you cooperate, not only will you live, you might even receive a generous reward from Mr. Temple, should your information prove useful. All we need from you is confirmation of things we already know to be true.”
Penn said nothing, but he had visibly relaxed in the last few seconds, especially once Atlas leaned away from him.
“So let’s be quick about this. You are working on behalf of the North Korean government.”
Penn said nothing, instead staring at the floor.
Dawson flicked a wrist at Atlas. “Shoot him in the knee.”
“With pleasure.” Atlas drew his sidearm, and Penn’s eyes bulged as he pushed away from the big man.
“Wait!”
Dawson held up his hand. “So you do speak. Answer the questions, and you walk out of here. Don’t, and you crawl.”
“Yes, I work for the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.”
“Sleeper agent?”
“Yes. I’ve been here for almost a decade. Made my way into the NSA. I was activated when I found out I’d have access to the ToolKit due to the loyalty test we were conducting on Hummel.”
“So you copied the ToolKit then wiped Hummel’s copy.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make it look like he was lying, and that it had never actually left the building. That way, nobody would think to keep looking to see if it made it on the market.”
“So you sold it.”
“Yes.”
“For how much?”
“Twenty-five thousand Bitcoins.”
Red whistled. “That’s a lot of dough if you held on to it.”
“I still have most of it. It’s worth ten times what it was when I sold it.”
“Who’d you sell it to?”
“The Shadow Collective.”
“The same ones who put it up for auction a few months ago?”
Penn nodded.
“Did you sell it to anyone else?”
“No. I didn’t need to. I had enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life.” He shrugged. “And I couldn’t risk my handlers finding out.”
“And where are they.”
“Not here.”
Atlas pressed the barrel of his Glock against Penn’s knee.
“Okay, okay! They’re in Moscow.”
Dawson’s eyebrows shot up. “Moscow?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell are they doing there?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“One of Bureau 121’s largest operations is in the North Korean embassy in Moscow, right under the noses of the Russian government.”
37
Temple Technologies Corporate Head Office
Mountain View, California
“Do you have him?”
Temple stood in the window, staring down at the rapidly darkening city, his phone pressed to his ear, the knuckles on his other hand turning white as he tightly gripped the back of his chair, awaiting Simmons’ response.
“Affirmative. We have him.”
He grinned at Davis, giving her a thumbs up as she listened on another handset. She smiled back, though he sensed she wasn’t as happy as he was. He could tell she was having doubts. They had crossed a line tonight, a line he never thought they would have to. His team had assaulted American government officials just doing their job, in order to capture the traitor Penn so they could interrogate him.
It was wrong.
It was illegal.
And it meant they could all go to prison if traced back to them.
He just prayed Simmons was good at his job, and that wouldn’t become a possibility.
“What has he said?”
“He’s confirmed everything. He copied the data Hummel stole, then wiped the memory card to make it look like Hummel was lying, and he sold it for twenty-five thousand Bitcoins to the Shadow Collective.”
“Why did he do it?”
“Money.”
“No foreign government involvement?”
“No.”
Temple sighed with relief, their lives suddenly much simpler. With no foreign governments involved in what had happened, all they had to do was make sure Hummel, Penn, and the Shadow Collective were brought to justice, and this would be over. He paused. “You said he sold the ToolKit for Bitcoins?”
“Yes.”
“Get his private key from him. I want to drain whatever he has left.”
“Consider it done.”
Temple stared at Davis. “Then I want him dead.”
Her eyes went wide and she shook her head vehemently, but he ignored her.
“You know my rules,” said Simmons.
Temple tensed. “I’m fully aware of your rules. And he’s not a child, and he’s not an American.”
There was a pause. “Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s a traitor to his country. He stole our secrets and sold them to a hacker group with known ties to the Russian government. Do you believe for a second that they didn’t turn around and give it to their masters in Moscow?”
Another pause. “Agreed. He’ll be dead before morning.”
A smile crept up the side of Temple’s face. “I thought you’d see it my way. Once that’s done, I need you in the Ukraine as quickly as possible. I want this Shadow Collective wiped out before the end of day tomorrow.”
“With pleasure.”
Temple ended the call and returned the phone to its cradle, sitting down in his chair. “You don’t look happy.”
Davis shook her head. “I’m not.”
“Why?”
“I think you know why.”
“Explain it to me.”
“I don’t care if Penn dies. He’s a piece of shit. At the very least, he’s a criminal, and most likely a traitor. He was going to prison for the rest of his life, no matter what we did tonight. But your team—our team—assaulted United States Federal Agents. Somebody could have been hurt, or worse. That crime alone can put us all in prison for as long as Penn. If it ever gets traced back to us—”
Temple held up a hand. “If it ever gets traced back to me. Don’t worry, as far as anyone is concerned, you have nothing to do with this. This is all my doing.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “That’s not true! I talked to Bill and had him arrange Simmons. I set up the team tracking down the hackers’ locations. The paperwork is all in my name. That’s all on me!”
“Not at all. I had you talk to Bill to bring in a security team. You didn’t know what I was going to use them for. You set up a team to track down the hackers. There’s nothing wrong with that. You had no idea that I would then take that information and pass it on to Simmons to then eliminate them. All the paperwork is simply to pay invoices. Noth
ing on it says ‘Payment for hired assassins.’” He smiled gently at her. “Tanya, you’re covered. If push comes to shove, you know I’ll confess to everything. You’ll be protected.”
She sighed, removing her glasses and massaging her temples for a moment. “Tell me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“When Penn is dead, and the Shadow Collective are dead, will that be enough to settle your bloodlust?”
Temple drew a slow breath then turned his chair slightly toward the window, staring at the minions below. Would it be enough? He wanted every hacker in the world dead so this couldn’t happen again, but that wasn’t realistic. That would be insanity. Who had murdered his child? Hummel had stolen the data to impress the undercover female NSA agent Graf. Graf had done nothing wrong, merely doing her job, so he saw no need for revenge against her now that he knew Penn had been behind everything and Graf was an unwitting victim, not an incompetent fool who had let Hummel hoodwink them.
Penn had stolen then sold the data. He was clearly guilty. He had sold it to the Shadow Collective, and they were the same people they had already connected to the ransomware attack, probably designed to recoup some of the money they had spent purchasing the ToolKit.
With Hummel, Penn, and the Shadow Collective gone, he would be satisfied. The fallout of the events would hopefully be enough to make hackers the world over think twice before again doing anything as foolish as what had been done earlier in the week.
He turned back to Davis. “Yes, I think so.”
“Then let’s put an end to this.” She motioned toward the television mounted to the far wall, CNN on a loop of chaos in the Ukraine, then held up her tablet. “Do you realize there are dozens of confirmed dead already? People are killing their neighbors just because they own a computer.”
Temple frowned, a hint of a pit forming in his stomach. “Yes, I’ve seen the reports. It’s unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate?” Davis closed her eyes for a moment, regaining her composure. She stared at him. “Those people are dead because of you. You went off half-cocked and gave a press conference when you shouldn’t have, and called for just this.”
Retribution - A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller Book #7 Page 13
