Cyber Countdown

by Terence Flynn

  Dimitri read the rest of the file and left the drive in his computer after logging out of Word as instructed. Just to make sure the file had been erased, Dimitri logged back into the drive and verified the file was no longer there.

  Okay, Dimitri thought, now the hard work begins. Dimitri needed to develop a plan that would allow him to gain access to the senator in a location that was private and that Dimitri could select and control. He remembered that the senator had a house in Georgetown that he used when Congress was in session, but that his wife never used. The file had provided a complete description of the house, including its location, size, layout, and alarm system. A big smile erupted on Dimitri’s face when he realized that the senator’s house was within walking distance of the Chinese embassy.

  “I’m done. I have a plan, Putin.”

  “Putin thinks Dimitri is a genius.”

  The plan had come together in Dimitri’s head, but he still had to arrange for some outside help from the Big Man. He called his contact, and a woman answered.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Vasin?”

  “I need to meet tomorrow morning as early as possible.”

  “Fine, same building at nine.”

  Dimitri arrived at the office in Manhattan the next morning and was escorted to a conference room. He waited for about ten minutes when a tall, athletic-looking young man entered and sat across from him.

  “What can I help you with, Mr. Vasin?”

  “I need three Humalog mix 75/25 pens, a cold travel case, and a fast-acting bacterial serum that will cause severe nausea for twentyfour to forty-eight hours. The serum must be loaded into a very small and sharp painless syringe like the one I was provided for a previous assignment. In addition, I need to know the target’s schedule in the DC area for the next three days, the home address and cell phone number for his mistress, and twenty authentic business cards in a card holder for a high-level Chinese intelligence agent currently assigned to the Chinese embassy in DC.”

  “We can get a real card and then reproduce the twenty you need on the same stock and with the same type and style used by the embassy. Is that acceptable?”

  “Yes, as long as I have them by tomorrow afternoon. I also need my usual weapons, military grade night vision goggles, and a high power EMP gun like the one I used during a previous assignment. Please deliver all of these items to the storage locker in Arlington.”

  “Please wait here while I verify our delivery schedule.”

  Dimitri waited for about thirty minutes when the man returned to the conference room.

  “We can have all the items delivered to the storage unit by nine tomorrow morning. Is that acceptable?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  After the meeting, Dimitri returned to his house to get the erased flash drive. He took the drive to the electronics shop where one of his hacker friends was working.

  “Hi, Yuri, I need your help.”

  “Sure, Dimitri, what do you need?”

  “I want you to examine this flash drive to see if all the files were completely erased.”

  “Sure, follow me to my lab in the back so I can check it with the digital forensics tools on my laptop.”

  Yuri worked for thirty minutes and said, “The information was written over using a sophisticated algorithm that writes digital data patterns to the drive seven times. There’s no recoverable information on this drive.”

  “Thanks, Yuri, but how would I destroy the drive so that it couldn’t be reused, just in case?”

  “That’s easy. Some people like to use an electrolysis tank to fry the drive’s electronic components by applying a voltage to the drive in a solution of baking soda and water. That works, but I just use this sledgehammer. Do you want to try?”

  Dimitri took the hammer and hit the drive three times as hard as he could, breaking it into very small pieces.

  “Looks like a dead drive to me,” Yuri said with a smile.

  “Thanks, Yuri. I have a present for you.”

  Dimitri gave Yuri the envelope with the bloody photo he had taken of Chin.

  “Is this what I think it is?”

  “Yes. Please let Marta know that her attacker is dead and will never bother her again.”

  Yuri hugged Dimitri and said, “If ever I can do something for you, just ask.”

  “There’s one thing. Please destroy that photo when you’re done, along with the remaining pieces of that USB drive.”

  “I’ll do that, but I still owe you.”

  Dimitri walked home and packed. The taxi to JFK arrived on time, and Dimitri boarded his flight to Reagan National Airport in DC. He arrived at his hotel in Arlington and went up to his room, unpacked, and turned on the TV. There was news about Philip Wu’s funeral, scheduled for the next morning at eleven at the Universalist National Memorial Church near Dupont Circle in DC.

  The reporter described how many local and national dignitaries planned to attend, including the president’s chief of staff, Barbara Chang, the Federal CIO and Wu’s former partner, James Jordan, billionaire investor George Solomon, some prominent and unidentified federal legislators, and several Maryland state delegates. Dimitri decided to attend the funeral, at least from a distance, to see if his new target would also be there as one of the unidentified federal legislators. He took some notes on the location of the funeral and the names of some prominent attendees and then switched off the TV and went to sleep.

  The next morning, he immediately called down to the front desk to arrange for breakfast and a rental car. After having a quick breakfast in his room, he went to the lobby and signed for his car. Dimitri then drove to a nearby storage unit, where he removed a duffel bag and put it in the trunk. He drove back to the hotel and took the duffel up to his room, where he removed the insulin pens and syringe in the cold travel case and put them in the refrigerator.

  There was also a large manila envelope with the requested business cards in a leather card holder and a USB drive. The cards were for a Zhou Ming who was listed as a senior commercial attaché at the Chinese embassy in DC. Dimitri plugged the drive into the USB port in his laptop and examined the files, which included Senator Thompson’s schedule for the next several days and the local addresses for the senator and his aide. He was happy to see that the senator was going to be in DC for the next week.

  Dimitri used his laptop to do some quick internet research on the funeral attendees of interest, and programmed the GPS app on his cell phone with the senator’s and his aide’s local addresses. He also programmed the address of the church near Dupont Circle where Philip Wu’s funeral was being held.

  It was time to go, so Dimitri grabbed his binoculars and camera. He drove to Dupont Circle, parked, and then walked to a location where he could observe the funeral attendees. He watched as the limousines pulled up to the church and let their passengers out. He recognized both Barbara Chang and James Jordan, who arrived together in a limousine that was led by a large black SUV with tinted windows. Well, I guess the Secret Service is here, Dimitri thought. An extremely attractive brunette also got out of the limousine and walked with James Jordan as they entered the church.

  Shortly after, a large black Mercedes limousine dropped off a tall, white-haired man whom Dimitri recognized from his research as the billionaire George Solomon. Mr. Solomon was surrounded by several muscular individuals, definitely his bodyguards.

  Right before the funeral was to start, a Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the cathedral. A pretty young blonde woman jumped out, followed by Senator Lee Thompson in a long black overcoat that couldn’t hide his considerable girth. Dimitri watched as his target struggled to get out of the car with the help of the woman who was obviously his aide and mistress. Dimitri laughed to himself; bringing his mistress to a funeral with so many dignitaries certainly showed that he had balls. The senator would have made an excellent Russian premier, Dimitri thought.

  Dimitri had taken pictures of all the attendees. Seeing Senator Thompson in the flesh was useful,
since the pictures he was provided by his employer didn’t do the senator justice. He was at least thirty pounds heavier than the pictures in the file he was given. Dimitri knew that he’d have to adjust the dosage to compensate for the senator’s actual weight.

  After observing the attendees, Dimitri returned to his car and drove to the target’s home in Georgetown, less than five miles away. He drove slowly by the senator’s home, a detached two-story townhouse on a small lot with many trees. He was pleased, as the trees would provide cover and there were no connecting walls for neighbors to hear anything. Dimitri also made a mental note of the closest power transformer to the house, a nearby area where he could safely park, and the best exit routes if he had to leave quickly. He then returned to his hotel, had lunch, and reviewed his plan one last time.

  Dimitri needed to take care of one more task before implementing his plan. He drove to the apartment building in Old Town, Alexandria, where the senator’s aide lived, and he walked in with a small group of people. After looking around the lobby, he went to the clerk at the front desk and said, “Can you call Carla Allen’s apartment and tell her that a friend is waiting for her downstairs?”

  He called her number. “There’s no answer, sir. She may be out.”

  “That’s fine, I’ll wait.”

  Dimitri took a seat on a couch at the rear of the lobby near the elevator, since it provided a clear view of the entrance. He’d waited for about thirty minutes when he saw a black Lincoln Town Car pull up to the entrance and Carla Allen jump out.

  Dimitri quickly checked the syringe and then cupped it in the palm of his hand with the needle slightly exposed. As Carla Allen approached the elevator, she removed her keys from her purse and headed toward the mailboxes to pick up her mail. Dimitri jumped up from his seat and purposely ran into her as she approached. He quickly injected her as they both fell down.

  “Oh, I didn’t see you, I’m so sorry,” Dimitri exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

  They both got to their feet and she said, “I think so, are you okay?”

  “Yes, I believe I am, and I’m really sorry. I guess I was in too much of a hurry to get to an appointment.”

  “That’s okay, I hope you make it.”

  “Me, too. Goodbye,” Dimitri said as he hurriedly went out the front entrance. She seemed like a nice girl, too nice for her ogre of a boss. Dimitri felt sorry for what she was about to endure. At least she’d survive.

  The serum would take a couple of hours before she started feeling the effects, so Dimitri returned to his hotel and watched TV. At six he used a burner phone to place a call to Carla Allen.

  “Hello,” Carla said in a weak voice.

  “Hi, I work for a news media organization and I was wondering if you could do a survey on the accuracy of the reporting on the cable news networks.”

  “I’m sorry, I normally would, but I feel really ill. Can you call me some other time?”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll call back next week. Thank you.”

  Dimitri knew that the first phase had worked and that the senator would be alone that evening. Now he needed to prepare for the next phase.

  Dimitri waited until about nine and then got dressed in dark clothing and a dark navy pea coat. He took the duffel bag and stuffed the business card holder, flashlight, lock picks, insulin pens, and plastic gloves in his coat pockets. The traffic was light and his drive to Georgetown took only fifteen minutes. As he drove by the senator’s house, he could see that the lights were on and the senator’s car was in the driveway.

  He found a parking space a block from the senator’s house and less than fifty yards from a power transformer. Dimitri waited until most of the nearby house lights were out and then grabbed the duffel bag and walked to a point directly beneath the transformer. He removed the EMP gun from his bag, set the power at maximum, aimed the gun, and pulled the trigger. The lights in the neighborhood flickered several times and then went out.

  Dimitri quickly walked to the senator’s house. He donned his night vision goggles and walked through the trees on the property. Dimitri aimed the EMP gun at the front and back doors to disable any house alarms that might be on emergency battery power. He then walked to the back door, removed his latex gloves and lock picks from the duffel bag, and used them to open the door. There were some emergency lights on in the living room, and Dimitri could hear someone talking. It was the senator in his pajamas. He was talking on his cell phone and he clearly sounded drunk. Dimitri smiled. That will make things so much easier, he thought.

  After the senator finished his call, Dimitri removed the Glock, attached the silencer, and sneaked up behind the target. He put his left hand over the senator’s mouth and his right arm around his neck.

  Dimitri whispered in the target’s ear, “If you want to live, be quiet, or I’ll shoot you. Do you understand?” The senator nodded and Dimitri slowly removed his hand.

  “Please sit on the couch and don’t try to escape. I have a gun. Is there anyone else in the house?”

  “No, I’m the only one here. What do you want? I don’t keep much money here, but I’ll give you what I have.”

  “I just want some information,” Dimitri said, trying to make the senator feel more comfortable.

  “How’d you get in? I activated the alarm when I got home.”

  “That’s my secret. Let’s have a little chat, Senator. I have a few questions I’d like to ask.”

  “Can I pour myself another drink first?”

  “Sure, where’s the bar? I’ll have one with you.”

  “There’s a bar in the dining room.”

  Dimitri pushed the senator toward the dining room where a few emergency lights made it easy enough to see.

  “Sit down, Senator, while I mix our drinks. What would you like?”

  “Bourbon and water.”

  Dimitri took off his goggles and poured their drinks, making sure the senator’s drink was much more potent.

  “I hope you like your drink, Senator.”

  Senator Thompson lifted his glass and took several big gulps. “I don’t know who taught you to mix drinks, son, but you’re my kind of bartender. Go ahead and ask away, I’ll tell you anything you want.”

  “Okay, what’s your relationship to Philip Wu?”

  “None at all, I only met the man once.”

  “Then why were you at the funeral today?”

  “I know some of the others at the funeral, and was just paying my respects for their sakes. It’s just the nature of politics—you never know who you may need a favor from down the road. Can I have another one of those drinks?”

  Dimitri poured him another drink, even stronger than the first.

  “Thanks, son. Are you working for Whitey? Did he put you up to this, or was it those Chinese devils?”

  “Who’s Whitey?”

  “Whitey’s a bastard. He was pissed off that I knew about his illegitimate son and how he probably murdered his son’s mother. There’s a lot of rumors about Whitey. Some say he has connections to organized crime. He threatened me if I revealed what I knew.”

  Dimitri was now intrigued. Was this man Whitey the Big Man? It was a shot in the dark, but Dimitri believed that a man with the senator’s influence and contacts might recognize the nickname. If he did, it would be Dimitri’s first real link to his employer’s actual identity. Dimitri could see that the senator’s eyes were drooping and he was badly slurring his words. He decided to ask a few more questions before finishing it.

  “Senator, do you know of anyone called the Big Man?”

  “No, I don’t, son.”

  “Is Whitey a big man?”

  “Yeah, he’s very tall.”

  “How tall?”

  “Much taller than you. Can you help me to the couch in the living room? I need to lie down.”

  Dimitri almost had to carry the senator to get him to the couch, which was no easy task given his excessive weight. The senator quickly passed out and started snoring heav
ily.

  Dimitri went to the refrigerator in the kitchen and found what he was looking for. There were insulin pens just like the ones he brought with him. He decided to use them instead of his, since they might have the senator’s fingerprints on them and it would avoid any possible discrepancies in the insulin that was used. Dimitri attached one of the needles he’d brought with him and set the injection amount on the pen to what he knew would be a lethal dose. He knew from his medical training that most diabetics injected their insulin in locations that were easily accessible and created the least amount of pain. The thigh was the most popular option.

  Dimitri rolled up the senator’s right pajama pantleg since he was right-handed, and saw evidence of very recent injections. He injected the senator with the insulin and left the pen by the senator’s side. Dimitri then gathered up everything he’d brought with him, along with the glass he used, and put them in the duffel bag. He left the senator’s glass on the table.

  About twenty minutes after being injected, the senator’s body spasmed several times and went limp. Dimitri checked for a pulse and found none. He turned his night vision goggles on, grabbed his duffel bag, and exited by the back door. As he walked toward the street, he took out the card holder and gently threw it and the business cards near the bushes on the senator’s property.

  On the way back to his hotel, Dimitri stopped at the storage locker and left the duffel bag, which contained all the items he had used. When he got back to his room, he called the front desk and informed them that he was checking out the next morning and would drop the car off at the airport. Dimitri then sent an email to his contact with a single word: “Done.”

  6

  James Jordan hadn’t attended many funerals during his life. Other than his father, who had died in an automobile accident, he’d never lost anyone really close to him. Philip wasn’t family, but James was probably as close to him as any family could be. Going to Philip’s funeral would be incredibly difficult under any circumstance, but it had been made much worse by the unusual circumstances surrounding his death. Circumstances that created doubt in his mind about whether Philip was developing cyber threats and if he really ever knew him like he thought he had.