‘Seems an appropriate name then’ remarked Long John with a grin.
Louis agreed sombrely.
‘How did it end?’
Louis searched his memory. ‘The people thought the only way they could save themselves was to offer the King’s daughter as a sacrifice. The stories tell how the daughter was chained to some rocks on the shore to be offered up to the beast.’
‘And did it work?’
Louis wasn’t sure. ‘According to Greek mythology Perseus turned it to stone by showing it the head of Medusa. But biblical references have Cetus as the whale that swallowed Jonah. Take your pick.’
Sean looked at Lomax as he concentrated dodging in and out of the lanes but his face remained inscrutable.
‘Don’t ask’. Lomax’s remark seemed to anticipate Sean’s question.
Sean thought through recent events. The fact that the mission had been pulled without consulting Lomax could only mean one thing in Sean’s mind. Something had happened that exposed the mission profile though not necessarily the mission itself.
‘Do they know we’re on our way to collect the IT guy?’
Lomax glanced at his watch. ‘Nope. And we’re not about to tell them.’
‘Do they know about the lead with the laptop?’
Lomax shook his head. ‘They don’t want to jeopardise things with the Americans. They just feel it’s simpler this way.’
Sean thought for a minute. ‘You know that letter I photographed?’ Sean waited to see if Lomax registered interest. ‘I think Ben was working on something to do with it. I think the opposition found out and murdered him. The motorcycle thing was no accident and they had to follow up in the hospital to be sure.’
‘I’d worked that bit out already’ remarked Lomax.
Sean understood the implied criticism but felt no need to defend himself. He had debated with his own conscience at length since it happened. Could he have got to Ben sooner? But Ben was very ill and something told Sean that he would not have made it anyway – even if they hadn’t tried to suffocate him. Whatever the outcome Sean kept his anger to himself. There would be time to grieve later.
Sean mulled over the conversation. ‘There’s something else you’re not telling me.’
Lomax shrugged.
‘What?’ It was like trying to get blood out of a stone. Sean couldn’t understand why Lomax was being so reticent.
At last Lomax spoke.
‘It’s the girl. I think she’s a plant.’
‘A plant for whom?’ Sean had no idea of Lomax’s sources but if he suspected the girl then there probably was a very good reason. Even so he couldn’t bring himself to believe she was working undercover.
‘Our allies, or possibly the opposition.’ Lomax’s statement seemed so ambiguous as to be almost meaningless.
‘OK, let’s assume she is a plant. What then?’
‘Then you will need to be extra vigilant’ Lomax replied.
Sean didn’t respond. He guessed Lomax had been briefed about his fiancé. If so he would know Sean had had little to do with women after she died. Lomax couldn’t possibly think that Natasha might be affecting his work, or could he?
‘I’ve arranged to collect Ben’s things and take them back to his parents. The least I can do is stay for the funeral.’
They arrived at the airport and Lomax found a short stay car park. He left Lomax to look after the car. The arrivals lounge was particularly busy, perhaps because it was the start of the working week. Sean waited until he was sure he was not under observation.
He watched as arrivals made their way through a gauntlet of waiting family, friends and colleagues. A tall thin young man arrived with a trolley stacked full of cases. Sean recognised Daniel immediately with his dark hair and lean features. He jerked his head to indicate the man should follow him. In the car park Sean was surprised to see Daniel’s trolley piled high with so many large camera-style cases. They loaded them in the back as best they could and didn’t speak until Lomax had pulled away.
‘Good to see you Daniel. How was the drive?’
The young man turned to Sean. ‘Not bad. I’ve left my car in one of the long stay car parks.’
‘What’s with all the luggage?’
Daniel grinned. ‘My stock-in-trade. When do I get to work?’
‘Right away. As soon as we get back I have a laptop for you to crack. The hard drive is a bit dented - it comes from someone who worked for the American DoD. The programs I have couldn’t hack it.’
‘Oh’ came the uneasy reply. ‘That’ll be a tough cookie. How much time do I have?’
‘I need it tonight, if possible’ replied Sean. ‘What’s your legend?’
The young man handed over his passport. ‘Name is Daniel Davis - DD to my friends. I’m currently studying for a post graduate degree at MIT in Ontology-based Navigation in Large Information Spaces. I’ve just started my second year and I’ve fixed up a house swap with an American student who is studying at London University.’
Sean smiled. ‘Good.’
‘OK. Do you have anything else lined up for me?’
‘Take a look at this.’ Sean handed over a page he had copied from Natasha’s letter. ‘What can you tell me about it?’
DD looked at it carefully. Sean explained where he had got the note. He sat back to see what DD would make of it all.
For a whole five minutes they sat quietly. Then DD spoke up. ‘Well if this is about archives, it looks like a record of computer backup tapes. The dates go back eight weeks. Again, I’m guessing, but the code in the second column probably identifies the tape. But without knowing what the code stands for I can’t tell you what’s on the tapes.’
DD indicated the last column. ‘But there is a clue in the description column. That tells me that some of the tapes were OK, but I am surprised at the number of blanks that appear. Normally you would only expect to get a bad copy once or twice a year, but here we have six in the space of six weeks.’
‘OK’ said Sean. ‘Anything else you can tell us?’
‘Well there are only two ways you can get a blank tape: when you first buy them in, or when you erase them. Both are different.’
‘Can you tell me in English?’
‘Sure - when you buy a tape it is completely blank. Before you can use it in a computer to copy data you have to go through a process called formatting.’
‘Like you have to before you install an new hard drive?’ asked Sean.
‘Exactly the same. You tell the machine to format the tape and it writes a special sequence of codes, so when the computer is asked to start copying data it knows where to start and stop for example.’
DD fished out a packet of cigarettes. ‘Anybody mind?’ he asked.
Sean wound the window down. ‘So what do you think is happening here?’
DD lit a cigarette. ‘If you ask me, I would say that someone is stealing to order.’
‘How do you mean?’ Sean asked.
‘Once a backup has been made the tape needs to be taken off-site. If the computer room burns down you don’t want the backup tapes to burn with them. Most firms have off-site storage or a company to collect and store the tapes for them. If you look there is a pattern of blank tapes, one for each of the different codes. Either someone is substituting blank tapes before they are taken off-site, or the substitution is being done at the off-site storage facility.’
‘Why would anyone do that?’
‘If someone from outside the organisation had access to these tapes they would be able to restore the information onto another computer and access a copy of the system just as if they were in the office. However to access all the systems they would need a tape for every server. According to this list there are eight servers and six of the tapes are blank or missing.’
Sean thought this made sense. ‘But wouldn’t someone notice?’
‘Not necessarily. Normally you would only need those tapes if there was a disaster and the place went up in smoke. Occasi
onally you might need to retrieve the odd file if someone got careless and deleted a document accidentally. So you might get away with it for a long time before someone noticed.’
‘Well someone noticed’. Sean indicated the list. ‘I think Ben became suspicious, started to investigate, then found out there was a problem. Soon afterwards he was killed.’
DD blanched. ‘Bloody hell’ he muttered as he opened the pack for another cigarette.
Lomax pulled in to the rented apartment he had arranged for DD and they helped him in with all his cases. Sean gave him the laptop containing Ben’s hard drive and DD promised to let Lomax know as soon as he had found anything.
On the way back Sean spoke. ‘If someone was stealing those tapes then I think I have a pretty good idea who.’
‘Go on’ replied Lomax.
‘You remember the messages I found on Ben’s answer machine? One of them was from Jack Langham. He was arranging to meet Ben to discuss something about the archives. He might have meant tape archives.’
Lomax shook his head. ‘So?’
‘I need to pay him a visit.’
Lomax didn’t sound convinced. ‘You remember we’ve been recalled?’
‘They know we can’t go back just yet’ responded Sean.
‘But they are expecting us to lie low until we can.’ Lomax looked at Sean intently.
Sean indicated he understood and waited.
‘Ben’s death has changed things’ continued Lomax. ‘We don’t want the police to switch the focus to us and London doesn’t want Ben’s extracurricular activities to be discovered.’ Lomax glanced at Sean. ‘That is something they are very particular about.’
Sean didn’t respond.
‘You must be very careful’ said Lomax finally.
Louis’ eyes swivelled to an empty coke tin discarded on one of the steps. It buzzed and slithered around, seeming to move of its own accord. Rattling, the can fell down to the next step and then the next.
Some engineers who had accompanied Louis to the deck slapped his shoulder in a good natured way, pleased that Cetus had launched successfully. Louis put out a hand to the rail to steady himself - and jerked it back again as if the metal had burnt his fingers. He stared curiously at the bar - it seemed to be conducting vibrations from the ship’s engines. He touched it momentarily once more and immediately felt the vibrations again. He glanced at his colleagues but no-one seemed to have noticed anything untoward.
The coke tin reached the last step and skittered along the deck. This was not like any other vibration Louis had experienced from ship’s engines - this was a much more penetrating frequency.
Louis began a halting run towards the operations room. On the way he grabbed the nearest engineer’s shoulder and motioned him to be quiet and listen. Both men stood transfixed. Just as the engineer started to pull away from Louis’ grasp they both heard a high keening sound which appeared to come from the depths of the ship.
There was no longer any doubt. ‘Goddammit!’ gasped Louis as the full realisation dawned. He dashed for the stairway, barging into crew members in his way. As he yanked the door open he felt the strange high pitched vibration fill the large room. Several of the engineers were holding hands to their ears to block out the noise.
Louis flew to his work bay and stared at the main console. The display showed that the sub was armed.
‘Impossible’ he seethed. Frantically he keyed in the instructions to load diagnostic programs to check the validity of the data and at the same time shouted across to the DARPA team for help. The section looked puzzled but did not seem unduly alarmed. Louis’ patience snapped at their lack of understanding.
‘The bastard is making an attack run - on us!’ he screamed.
The fear which now gripped him was something he had never experienced before. And along with the fear came the dreadful thought that he would die at sea - the worst way to go he could imagine.
The display did not lie. All the diagnostic programs were complete and all showed that the sub had become armed. Louis thought it was impossible but the programs showed something else too – the sub had started an attack run on their own ship.
Engineers around Louis clutched their ears as the pounding vibrations increased in volume.
He snapped out of his reverie. There was a way to turn off the attack; one slight chance that they might all survive.
Louis gave his computer systems a last despairing look to see if there was any change. There was none. Louis used the keyboard to start the self-destruct sequence.
He unlatched the cover over the red switch on his desk. Memories raced through his mind of the last two years he had devoted to the project. The waste of all that effort caused him to hesitate, finger poised above the red button.
One of the monitors in another bay imploded from the escalating volume of the vibrations. Fragments of glass shattered and flew in all directions. One sliver caught him on the chin and a drop of his own blood fell to the desk.
Galvanised, Louis jabbed the button.
A few seconds later he realised the dreadful truth. The increasing noise and vibration in the floor plate beneath his feet told its own story - the self-destruct signal had failed and the most powerful underwater weapon of modern times was no longer under his control.
Chapter 7
Louis grabbed a nearby microphone. ‘Captain, the sub is making an attack!’ he yelled. ‘Give the order to abandon ship. Repeat, you must abandon ship.’ He threw the microphone down and yelled the same message to colleagues nearby. No-one seemed to grasp the idea because most were holding their ears in an effort to exclude the intense high pitched sound. He ran to a nearby technician and pulled his arms away.
‘Abandon ship’ he shouted in his ear.
The man immediately clapped his hands back over his ears but made no move to go.
‘Follow me’ Louis shouted pulling him along.
The ship’s alarm bells started to ring adding to the clamour. One or two others took the hint and stumbled after him up the stairway. When they reached the deck the vibration was so intense it completely drowned out the Captain’s announcement. Louis saw some crew manning the lifeboat davits, presumably because they realised that it would be better to escape with their lives than to try and save their unprotected ears.
At that moment the vibration stopped. Louis glanced around to see the reaction of the men. One or two started back to the operations room.
‘Don’t stop!’ he yelled. ‘We have to abandon ship.’
As if on cue the vibrations began again but this time at a much lower frequency. Louis could hardly hear it but he could sense it through the soles of his feet. The deck plates began to vibrate with a kind of rippling effect. Louis looked at them, finding it difficult to keep his balance. When he looked up he saw several of the men on the far side begin to dance a horrible gig as the deck trembled and shook. Some had blood streaming from their ears and one tripped over the railing and fell like a stone into the sea.
The ship began to list to port. Louis presumed that a section of the hull nearest Cetus had vibrated so intensely that the welds had started to come apart. He knew it would just be a matter of time before pressure from the sea water flooded the front compartments.
The tilt of the deck worked against the thirty or so seamen and technicians struggling to make their escape on the starboard side. The lifeboats scraped along the side of the hull and in one case a lifeboat tipped right over, spilling people and contents into the sea below.
Senior members of the crew quickly began to establish discipline above the panic and technicians and sailors obediently donned their life jackets. Parties were assigned to help launch the lifeboats on the port side. A rating thrust a life jacket at Louis before hurrying away. Louis tied it on quickly and was immediately ordered into one of the remaining lifeboats. He saw Long John in the same boat and raised a hand in recognition.
By this time the list to port was much more pronounced. The ship literally shuddere
d as deep pulsing beats pounded the hull. The downward journey of the lifeboat stopped suddenly as the pulley jammed. Louis knew then that they had run out of time. Their only chance would be to detach the lines from the lifeboat before the ship sank and dragged them under. He shouted across to Long John and they took up stations at the stem and stern. The moment the lifeboat was level Louis and Long John released the davit lines and the boat fell the last few feet into the water. For a few seconds it rocked dangerously then it settled down. Immediately four of the crew unshipped the oars and began rowing like fury.
Two minutes later they were fifty metres from the ship. Louis turned back to watch the ocean washing over the Mosquito’s deck.
Natasha stared at her screen, then jabbed at a few keys. She lost patience with it.
‘Stan’ my PC has frozen again.’
When there was no reply she looked over to where Stan sat hunched over his own computer. He appeared not to have noticed.
She had decided to come in to work today and try to put Ben’s death to the back of her mind. Now she wished she had stayed at home. Of course Stan was only a nickname. Everyone had given up trying to pronounce his full Polish name and it was quickly shortened to just plain Stan. It was unlike him to ignore a question from one of the staff. Maybe she complained too often she thought. But it wasn’t her fault that she had been supplied with a PC that seemed to work only part time.
‘Stan, my screen is kaput’ she said, louder this time. Stan took no notice. Natasha walked to his desk to peer over his shoulder. ‘What’s the problem?’
At last Stan looked at her. His normally pleasant face looked grim. He started to say something, stopped then started again.
‘Our comms link to the Mosquito is down.’
‘Well can’t we use the backup?’
‘No’. Stan shook his head. ‘You don’t understand - the link is down and there’s no way we can get it back.’
‘Why ever not?’ Natasha was exasperated with his terse reply. Why did senior managers find it so difficult to give full information?
Silent Warpath (Sean Quinlan Book 1) Page 6
