by Robert Stohn
They sat there in the parked car looking at each other as they spoke about their circumstances. Jonathan couldn’t help but feel attracted to her, even in that situation of heightened senses and nerves. He knew it was wrong on a professional level, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help the way that she made him feel; he just couldn’t. And, she could sense his attraction; it was clear. She was attracted to him too. After all they had been through in such a short period of time, something somewhere along the way happened. It was something electric. He could just sense it in his bones and feel it in his heart. It was as raw and real of emotions that he had experienced in a long time.
“Yes, of course I’m concerned,” he said. “But, just know that I would never let anything bad happen to you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You have to trust me on this.”
“Why don’t we just leave Istanbul all together? Why don’t we just get out of here? It’s safer that way. Wouldn’t you think so?” she asked. “If we just stay here, we’re going to get in more trouble. I have money. We can leave. We can get out of here. Don’t you think that’s the best thing to do right about now? Sticking around isn’t a good idea. I’m telling you this from experience.
“I don’t know… I gave my word to Don Cicerone. I can’t let him down. I mean, it’s my neck on the line. It’s not just about collecting the million dollars. I made a promise, and with all of the promises that I’ve broken in my life, I wanted to make a clean start. I want to make things right. I need to make things right.”
“Maybe you should speak to him then. Maybe you should explain the situation to him. Tell him your life is in danger. Tell him our lives are in danger,” she said.
“I spoke to him already. He told me that I might be in some danger; that you might be in some danger. I brushed it off. Now I know to take things seriously. But, things are different now. We’ll be more prepared than we were before. No more mistakes. We’re going to figure this whole thing out. I’m not sure how, but we are.”
“Jonathan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you remember in the news, that coordinated hacking effort that happened?”
“Yeah.”
“The way they described that. The things that they said about it in the news piece leads me to believe that whoever did that is the person that has the cipher drive. Whoever orchestrated those attacks has what you’re looking for,” she said. “If we can somehow find out who did it, then we’ll have something to go on so that we’re not shooting around in the dark here.”
“Okay, at least it’s a start,” he said.
“But I still think that we should just leave. I think we’re taking a huge risk by sticking around,” she said. Her sullen look was indicative of the mood.
“I don’t want to run. Running isn’t going to get us anywhere. I’m tired of feeling like I have to run away from things. I don’t want to do that. I refuse to do that, in fact. No, we have to stay and figure this out. Look, we’re intelligent people, we can put our heads together and sort this out if we really wanted to. Don’t you think?”
“I suppose so. I guess maybe you’re right,” she said.
They got out of the car and casually walked into the hotel. Jonathan carefully scoped out the streets as they made their way in through the front door of the luxury all-suite hotel. His dark aviators made it easy for him to keep a careful eye on things while not alluding to his paranoia. He tucked the gun into his black backpack that was now slung over his shoulder. He pulled it tightly to his chest as he slipped the hotel room key into the door and heard the customary double-chime before the green light lit and the door was unlocked.
Inside the hotel room, Jonathan looked through his phone. He thought about who he needed to call. He thought about who could actually help him in that situation. And, at that very moment, he knew what to do.
“I’ve got it,” he said to Jennifer.
“What?” she asked. She looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“You call Paul from the lab, while I’m going to get on the phone with Ed Perkins, a friend of mine who works at the Times in New York.”
“Okay, got it. But, first I need to lie down. Do you mind if I get a bit of shuteye here? I’m exhausted,” she said.
“Sure, I’ll head down to the hotel bar so that I can give you a chance to rest,” he replied. “I’m going to take my backpack with me. Don’t open the door for anyone. I’ll knock twice, then three times, then once – that’s the code to open the door. 2-3-1,” he said.
“Okay. I’ll be okay. If I’m not awake, call my phone. You have the new number from the clean SIM card.”
“Sounds good,” he said. She had already slipped into the bed as he closed the door. He pulled his backpack tightly to his chest as he walked down the long hallway clad in a crimson red carpet. The dimly lit passage and red carpeting gave a certain elegant flare to the hotel.
When he got to the bar, he took a seat there amongst the busy crowd. It was high season after all and the hotel was pushing maximum occupancy. The crowd was that elitist jet-setting type, and he heard the gamut of languages from English to French, German, Italian, Japanese, and Russian. Istanbul was certainly a melting pot for an eclectic mixture of tourists from all regions of the world.
He pulled out his phone as he sat at the white stonewashed marble bar with its inlaid swirls of greys, blacks, and specks of silver. The lighting in the bar was just as perfect as it was throughout the rest of the hotel. He searched through his address book for Ed’s phone number, found it, and then dialed the number.
“Anything to drink?” asked the bartender.
“Whiskey sour please,” Jonathan replied.
“Hello?” said the voice on the other end of the phone.
“Ed?”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Jonathan Grace.”
“Jonathan? How the hell are you? Do you realize how early it is here?” he asked.
Jonathan hadn’t thought about the time difference. He looked at his watch and it must have been around 4 o’clock in the morning. “Jesus, Ed, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize how early it was there.”
“Where are you? Where are you calling from?”
“I’m in Istanbul.”
“Why? For what?” he asked.
“On assignment. A job.”
“Jesus, good for you. Glad to hear you’re working. How’s everything been since… well… since?”
“It’s been okay. Thanks for asking. I still miss her every single day, but it’s getting a little easier,” Jonathan said. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but it’s hard to forget something like that. It’s hard to be reminded of the reality of my life each day I wake up. I’m sorry if that sounds so heavy.”
“No, no. That’s okay. I’m just glad to hear from you. I thought I would never speak to you again,” said Ed.
“It’s good to speak to you as well. I know that I’ve been such a recluse, but I had to shut everyone out. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, it’s okay, Jon. So what’s up? What’s on your mind?” I’ve got about an hour before I run into work so you’re timing isn’t too bad. I would have woken up in a half an hour regardless.”
“I need to talk to you about something; something major,” Jonathan said.
“Okay. I’m all ears,” Ed said. His tone had suddenly changed to a much more serious one.
“You guys recently ran a story about a coordinated hacking effort. You know the one that affected the Air Traffic Control Systems, banks, water, and power. You know the one I’m talking about?”
“Yes… Yes, of course I do,” he said.
“I may need some help from you. Look, I have reason to believe that the person who’s orchestrating those attacks isn’t a group. It isn’t a bunch of hackers. It’s just one person. One person who’s using a little black cipher drive developed by a lab out of Arlington, Virginia called Advanced Biogenics.”
“I’ve heard of th
em,” Ed said.
Jonathan’s whiskey sour landed in front of him as he chatted on the phone. He thanked the bartender and returned to his conversation.
“I’m in Istanbul right now with the lead researcher who created that cipher drive. I don’t want to get too far into it over the phone, but there’s some intense stuff going on right now. Someone is trying to kill us.”
“What are you doing involved in that?”
“I was retained to find the cipher drive,” Jonathan said.
“The cipher drive? The thing that’s causing all of these hacks?” Ed asked, as if he wasn’t entirely following the conversation. Maybe it was the early hour so Jonathan decided to explain it better.
“Okay, so here’s the story. My job was to head out to Istanbul where the lead researcher presently is, and to find information that would lead to the cipher drive. I was essentially hired to get it back. Apparently, this device can crack 2048-bit RSA keys in under 30 minutes.”
“2048-bit RSA keys? Jonathan, that’s way over my head. Speak in layman’s terms.”
“Okay, I know it sounds confusing. Basically that cipher drive can be used to hack into any known Website over any secure connection in the world. No matter what it is, this cipher drive can crack it. It’s a tiny USB stick-sized device. The circuitry has been fused with the ciphers that can be used to do the hacking. I’ve no idea how it all works, but this is the information that I’ve been able to piece together,” Jonathan said.
“Okay… you have my attention. What can I help with?”
“I need you to use your weight and your resources to help me find out who has the cipher drive. Dr. Cobalt… Jennifer, the lead researcher that I’m here with, said that there was a break-in at the lab not long after she departed. Someone must have broken in and stole that cipher drive. Is there any way you can help me to locate who it was?” Jonathan huffed into the phone. He stepped away from the crowded bar to speak in the corner of the room for a brief moment.
“I’ll see what I can do. But, I can’t promise you anything. I can’t absolutely guarantee anything,” said Ed. “However, I will tell you that this sounds like a story I can run with.”
“Okay, great. I know you can’t guarantee anything, but whatever help you can provide, I would be forever grateful to you for. And, no stories until I can get this resolved. I don’t want all of this information leaking out there to the public,” Jonathan said.
“No problem. But, this is big. This is breaking news. I’m going to work my contacts when I get into the office today. Expect a call back from me. Can I reach you on this number?”
“Yes, this is my international SIM.”
“Great. I’ll call you this afternoon my time.”
“Okay, thanks a lot,” Jonathan said.
“You got it buddy,” Ed replied.
Jonathan clicked the phone shut and walked back over to the bar. He sat down and nursed his whiskey sour. He looked down into the glass filled with that brown elixir that he had cherished so much not too long ago. Just a week prior he was washing his entire life down the bottom of a bottle. It had become a replacement for the lost love in his life. Alcohol had become the replacement for many things that he didn’t have anymore. And, as he stared at the drink in his glass he thought about how different his life had become. He thought about how much different everything had become.
“Can I get you another?” asked the bartender as Jonathan polished off the first drink.
“Yes, please.” He still couldn’t say no to another drink. As much as he wanted to get right up and leave that bar, he couldn’t.
“Great. Coming right up,” replied the bartender.
“In town on business?” asked the man seated next to him.
“Yeah, something like that,” Jonathan said. He looked at the man with suspect. The blonde-haired business-suit-clad man looked harmless enough, but Jonathan knew he had to be wary.
“I’m sorry… I guess I couldn’t help but overhear some of your conversation. Are you a writer?” asked the man.
“No, I’m an investigator,” Jonathan replied.
“I’m Adam. Adam Herschowitz,” said the man. He reached out his hand to shake Jonathan’s.
“Nice to meet you. Grace. Jonathan Grace.”
“Sounds more like a secret agent’s name,” he said, chuckling to himself. “I’m assuming you’re from the states?” he asked.
“Yes. New York. What about you?”
“Florida. I’m here on a company outing. Some merger we have going on. We’re here to do some due diligence,” he said.
“What do you do exactly?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m an attorney. Here, hang on a moment. Let me give you my card,” Adam said. He pulled out a small gold business card holder, slipped out a card, and handed it over. Jonathan looked at it, with its silver-embossed lettering and expensive paper. Jonathan was impressed.
“That’s some business card,” Jonathan said, as he examined the card in his hand.
“Thanks,” Adam said.
“You must be a pretty good attorney to have such fancy cards,” Jonathan remarked, taking another swig of the whiskey sour.
“I’m good at what I do… certainly,” he said modestly.
“What are you drinking?” Jonathan asked. “Let me buy you a drink. You drinking coffee?”
“It’s an Irish Coffee. Sure, I’ll get another one,” he said.
Jonathan got the attention of the bartender who was busy running from one end of the bar to the other. “It’s busy in here for a Sunday isn’t it?” Jonathan asked.
“Sure is. Say, thanks for the drink. I really appreciate that,” he said, as the Irish Coffee landed in front of him. He took a quick slurp and smiled. “Ah… now that’s good. Have to keep up impressions and all,” he added.
“Impressions?”
“Oh, yeah… you know, just in case the client shows up. Don’t want them seeing me drinking at this early hour,” he said.
“It’s never too early to drink,” Jonathan said. “At least, that’s what I used to think.” He polished off the first whiskey sour and started on his second one.
“Yeah, no problem. So, do you just handle mergers and acquisitions?”
“You know, I used to be a civil litigator with my own practice and the whole nine yards, but I’m now partner in this firm and it’s been about 10 years and running. I can’t say that I have any complaints.”
“That’s pretty impressive. More so that your job brings you all the way out here,” Jonathan said.
“I think it’s you that’s the one to envy. You look like you work for yourself with no one to answer to. Now that’s something to admire. What’s that like?”
“Well, it’s not as glamorous as it may seem to you. The last couple of years have been rough, but I’m piecing things back together.”
“But you found yourself on assignment in Istanbul of all places in the world. It can’t be too bad right now for you, can it?” Adams asked.
Jonathan realized he was right. He realized that things were going much better in his life than they had for quite some time. In all the anxiety and fear that the last 24 hours had brought him, that single conversation got him to realize just how much he did have to be thankful for. He looked at his drink as he polished it off and realized that he didn’t need to have a third. He didn’t need to go back down that rabbit hole again. It was as if a veil was being lifted off his face. All of the bad the past couple of years had brought him was finally melting away. He looked around his environment and his surroundings and realized just how much he had to be thankful for. He knew that he would get through it. He knew that he would see things through, no matter what it took.
“You know, you’re right,” Jonathan said. “You’re definitely right. Sometimes it takes another person to point that out to you I suppose.”
“Of course, anytime,” Adam added. “Look, if you ever need anything, or you’re ever in need of some legal advice, be sure to keep me
in mind. It never hurts to network when you’re away from the office. At least, that’s my motto.”
“Yes, absolutely. I’ll do that,” Jonathan remarked. “Be sure to do the same. Keep me in mind if you ever need any investigative work done back home in the states.”
“Do you have a card with you?” Adam asked.
“Sure, here you go.” Jonathan slid him a card.
“Great.”
They smiled at one another, Adam left, and bid him goodbye. They promised they would see each other again at some point in the future, but regardless of whether they did or not, Jonathan was happy. He left the bar and headed back to the room to check on Jennifer. He was sure that she would have had been well rested by then.
Chapter 12
Geoff Steiner knocked on Kate Jenkins’s door at the underground NSA facility. The young analyst had uncovered a theory that he wanted to run by his colleague. Plus, she was easy on the eyes. He didn’t mind speaking to her at any opportunity he got, and this was the perfect opportunity.
“Hey,” he said, knocking lightly as he walked in.
“Hey yourself. What’s up?” she asked, coyly.
“I think I’ve got something.”
“What is it?”
“Okay, I was combing through some intelligence, and I uncovered some chatter,” he remarked.
“What kind of chatter? Sit down… please…” she motioned him to sit at one of the two black ergonomically designed chairs in front of her glass and metal-framed desk.
“About the doctor – the researcher – Jennifer Cobalt.”
“What did you find?” Jenkins was curious what her fellow analyst had unearthed so quickly.
“Okay, here it is,” he said, as he took a seat in front of her desk. “I think there’s a hit out on the doctor, and I think she’s working with someone else. I have sources in the field that have conveyed information that the doctor has been shot, and that this man is the one who’s after her,” he said, spinning his tablet screen to show her an image of the man.
“Who is he?” she asked.
“Viktor Petrekov. Russian. Professional hit man. He’s been on the NSA’s radar forever.”
