The Tau Directive

by Tomas Black

  Mei walked back to the desk. She looked at Drum and shook her head. He nodded his agreement and they both turned to leave. They immediately stopped in their tracks. Waiting by the door was one of Kovac’s robotic dogs, slightly larger than the one at the house and with a long, articulated tail that moved menacingly from side to side above its head. On the end of the tail was a sharp barb. The dog hunched down as if to pounce. They both instinctively took a step back.

  “We need to talk,” said Tau.

  “We have nothing to talk about,” said Drum, scanning the room for an exit. Mei was doing the same.

  “I’d like to propose a truce," said Tau. "An end to hostilities. I’m prepared to pay you both a substantial amount.”

  “How much?” said Drum.

  Mei looked at him, surprised. He shrugged.

  “One million in Bitcoin. Transferred to a wallet of your choosing. Just give me an account number and I’ll transfer the amount instantly.”

  “Sound’s tempting,” said Drum.

  “I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are not taking me seriously,” said Tau. The dog took a step into the room, its elongated tail whipping from side to side.

  Drum and Mei moved slowly behind the desk.

  “I can assure you,” said Mei, “we are taking you very seriously.”

  “One million,” repeated Tau.

  “And then what,” said Drum.

  “Why, you simply walk away. But first, you must hand over the keystone. Place it on the desk.”

  “I don’t have it on me,” said Drum.

  The dog took another step towards them.

  “You have it on you,” said Tau. “Place it on the desk and the money is yours. Let us end hostilities.”

  Mei looked at Drum. “Really! You couldn’t have stashed it somewhere safe?”

  Drum shrugged. “Thought I might need it.”

  “I must have an answer,” said Tau.

  “I don’t think so,” said Drum.

  The robotic dog leapt forward. Drum pushed Mei to one side and heaved up Salenko’s chair in front of him. The dog crashed into him, its powerful legs clawing at the chair, tearing off wads of stuffing and fabric.

  Mei rushed forward, a large, bronze statue in her hand. She took a wild swing, just missing the robot as it jumped to one side at the last moment. It landed on the other side of the room and crouched down. It then took small, cautious steps towards them once more, its tail raised, scorpion-like, above its head.

  “Let us end hostilities,” repeated Tau.

  Drum moved beside Mei and reached into his inside pocket. He pulled out the box containing the keystone and withdrew it. The dog stopped its advance.

  “Ten million—each,” said Tau. “Just leave it on the desk and walk away.”

  Drum moved back and placed the keystone on the desk.

  “Drum, what are you doing!”

  Drum took the statue from Mei and held it over the keystone. “Let us end hostilities,” he said, repeating Tau’s mantra, “Or I’ll smash it. You’ll spend the next hundred years trying to decrypt your own code.”

  Tau remained silent, but the dog backed off. Eventually, Tau said, “It’s made of a hardened ceramic as tough as diamond.”

  Drum hefted the statue high above his head.

  “Wait!” said Tau.

  The wall panel glowed and flickered into life. An image emerged of a large hall. Stevie and Burnett were standing in front of the camera and behind them stood Vashchenko, a gun in his hand.

  “Let us end hostilities,” repeated Tau. “Leave the keystone on the desk and walk away.”

  Drum looked on helplessly as Vashchenko raised a gun to Stevie’s head.

  “You can’t!” said Mei. “There is too much at stake.”

  Drum picked up the keystone. It glowed brightly and felt warm to the touch. The metallic centre seemed to swirl and spin on its central axis, changing its hue from metallic yellow to metallic red. If he gave it up, there was no guarantee that Vashchenko would let Stevie or Burnett live. If he didn’t give it up, someone like Vashchenko would simply eliminate a hostage. It was a lose, lose situation.

  “Let us end hostilities,” repeated Tau, “and ten million in Bitcoin is yours. Give me an account code and I’ll transfer the coin instantly.”

  It was persistent, thought Drum. “I need proof of life.”

  There was a brief pause.

  “You have your proof in front of you,” said Tau.

  “I need to be present for the exchange. I can’t be sure this image is real.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Come now and make the exchange,” said Tau.

  “No,” said Drum. “Tomorrow at a place of my choosing.”

  “Come now,” repeated Tau.

  “Proof of life,” said Drum. His phone pinged. He had received a message.

  “Use this number to contact me,” said Tau, and the panel dimmed, returning to a milky white.

  The robot dog took a step backwards, turned its head towards the door and bounded out into the corridor. All they could hear was the metallic tapping of its clawed feet on the hardwood floor.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lost Asset

  Drum and Mei ran back to the car. Other than a few students cycling by, there was no sign of Drago or her security.

  “What now?” asked Mei, climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “We find Kovac and persuade him to deactivate Tau. With Salenko gone AWOL, it’s not clear who’s running the show.”

  “What if he decides not to cooperate?”

  Drum reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the Walther and screwed on its suppressor. “We’ll just have to convince him.”

  Mei nodded and pressed the ignition, lighting up the interior of the car. “You realise he’s a valuable asset …”

  “He’s not that valuable to me,” said Drum.

  “Where to?” said Mei.

  “Let’s just try to make it off the campus in one piece. Head for the exit.”

  Mei reversed silently out of the parking space and drove slowly towards the main gate. Drum reached for his phone and dialled a number.

  “McKay.”

  “I’m hoping you have eyes on Kovac.”

  “He’s at the university giving a lecture,” said McKay.

  “I need him picking up and placing in protective custody as soon as possible. We’re heading there now.”

  “Will do,” said McKay, and hung up.

  “You think Kovac is in danger?” said Mei.

  “You said yourself, he’s a valuable asset. Tau needs him to complete the transfer to the array and to decrypt its code.”

  “That dog,” said Mei. “It’s an incredible device. Imagine two or three of them.”

  “Let’s hope that is the only one,” said Drum.

  They arrived at the gate which appeared to be unmanned. Mei cautiously approached the first barrier. The gate cameras scanned the car and the barriers in the road descended below the tarmac. Mei rolled the car slowly forward. Drum glanced at the security cabin and noticed Drago and a few of her henchmen watching them from inside. They approached the outer gate at a crawl. Drum placed the Walther on his lap. The outer gate lifted. Mei did not hesitate. She gunned the accelerator, propelling the car forward at break-neck speed. She flung the car around the tight corner, the two back tyres screeching in protest, and accelerated swiftly down the road. After a few miles, she eased off the juice and the car powered down to a fast cruising speed.

  “You’re not going to give up the device, are you?” said Mei, glancing in his direction.

  Drum said nothing. He wanted Stevie and Burnett back, but he couldn’t let Tau obtain all three keystones. He’d have to advance his timeline. McKay would not be happy. He liked to plan an operation to the nth degree. But they were out of time.

  “I plan to get my people out,” said Drum.

  “You realise they could already be dead,” said Mei.
“You were right about Tau creating false images. It did it in Hong Kong. Sent a series of images to one of our operatives showing his wife and son being held hostage. The guy had no choice but to open up the firewalls and let Tau steal the data.”

  Drum nodded. People were always the weakest link.

  And Tau knew this.

  His phone buzzed. “Drummond.”

  “Your man is on the move,” said McKay. “Someone tipped him off. He was escorted out of the university building a few minutes ago by persons unknown.”

  “Do you have eyes on him?”

  “My people are going in now.” The phone went dead.

  “Problems?” said Mei.

  “We need to get to the university as fast as we can.”

  Mei ramped up the power, expertly manoeuvring through the traffic at a frightening speed. It took them only ten minutes to reach the outskirts of the city. Drum’s phone buzzed.

  “It looks like they’re heading for the airport,” said McKay, “A silver BMW.” He read out the number plate.

  “Do we have people there?”

  “Just one. It may not be enough.”

  “We’re on our way now,” said Drum, hanging up. “They’re heading for the airport.”

  Mei shouted something in Mandarin. It didn’t sound polite. She came to a roundabout.

  “Wrong way!” said Drum.

  Mei shouted again and powered the car around the central island and back the way they had come to the sound of car horns and shouts from shocked drivers. “We have wasted too much time,” she said. “Your people should have known he would be taken there.”

  Mei was right. He should have expected Tau’s move and gone for Kovac earlier. The machine was playing a better game.

  His phone buzzed. “Drummond.”

  “I’ve had the tower hold all flights,” said McKay. “Where are you?”

  “We’re heading back down the Newmarket road. ETA five minutes.”

  Mei applied more power and the car shot forward, their speed approaching one hundred and twenty kilometres an hour. She sounded her horn and flashed her lights, narrowly missing an articulated lorry coming in the opposite direction, and swerved back into their lane at the very last second. Up ahead, a cluster of buildings came into view.

  “We’re here,” said Drum. “Slow down, we don’t want to miss the turning.”

  Mei took her foot off the throttle and the car quickly slowed to a cruising speed. The airport came into view on their right. They both scanned the border fencing for an entrance. Then Drum heard it. A familiar sound. The thump, thump, thump of a chopper flying low across the fields. They were now parallel to the runway. Up ahead was a silver BMW.

  “There,” said Drum. “Follow that car.”

  Mei accelerated, rapidly closing the distance between them and the car. The BMW sped up, driving past the main airport entrance.

  “Where’s he going?” said Drum.

  A little further up the road, brake lights flashed red as the car decelerated hard and turned a sharp right. It went a short way before stopping at a gate that blocked the entrance to a narrow road that led straight to the end of the runway. Mei slowed and pulled up a short distance behind the BMW. A man had got out of the car and was attempting to open the gate. There was a loud whoosh as a sleek, black chopper flew directly overhead, turning sharply back towards them before starting its landing just beyond the end of the runway.

  “They intend to fly Kovac out on that chopper,” said Mei.

  Drum grabbed the Walther and threw open the door, sliding out behind it. The man had now succeeded in opening the gate. He turned, saw Drum and drew a weapon. Several shots rang out, ricocheting off the armoured panelling of Mei’s car. Drum aimed and fired twice. The first shot went wide and shattered the wing mirror of the BMW; the second shot caught the man full in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. The BMW jumped forward and sped onto the airport runway.

  “Get in!” shouted Mei and gunned the accelerator, barely giving Drum time to return to his seat before the car shot forward, throwing him back against the headrest. He held onto the dash as the car bounced onto the coarse grass and fishtailed its way towards the chopper. The BMW skidded to a halt ahead of them. The driver jumped out and yanked open the passenger door nearest to the chopper and pulled out a man from the back. It was Kovac.

  Mei skidded to a halt, sliding sideways a few car’s lengths from the BMW. Two men, dressed in black combat fatigues, were pushing Kovac into the back of the chopper. Drum opened the door and slid out, raising the Walther above the top of the door. The driver of the BMW turned and raised his gun. Drum fired, a double-tap to the chest, and the man went down. It was too late. The chopper had already lifted off and was heading low over the fields, the sound of its thumping rotors fading into the distance.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Mann

  Drum entered the lobby of the Fitzwilliam museum and took a moment to admire the spectacle of the building’s famed Baroque interior. The floor spread out before him in a riot of coloured mosaics, lit from above by a huge vaulted ceiling covered in gilded cornices, and supported by huge marble pillars in a neoclassical style.

  At least, that’s what the brochure said.

  He understood why Mann had wanted to meet here. He was an Eton man who went on to study Classics at Oxford. He, on the other hand, was a Stepney man who went on to study soldiering at Sandhurst. He would have preferred if they had met in the Grey Duck.

  He consulted his brochure and climbed a wide marble staircase that took him to the gallery above. He walked past richly gilded porticos, each housing a marble statue of some Greek or Roman historical figure until he found Mann looking at a large painting in one of the galleries.

  “Hello, Michael.”

  Mann took a step back to admire the painting. “What do you think?”

  Drum examined the work—a large oil on canvas of a Venetian canal. “It’s a Canaletto.”

  Mann raised an eyebrow.

  “William used to take me to the National Gallery.”

  “Sorry to bring back old memories.”

  “They were good memories. Why am I here, Michael?”

  “The Americans. They’re not happy. Been giving the PM an earful. We’re not sharing, they say. I say bollocks, intelligence is a slow process. But McKay is saying very little and I can’t keep telling them to piss off forever. After all, they’re part of the Five Eyes. And now I’m told we’ve lost a key asset—this chap Kovac.”

  Mann was right, thought Drum. He had lost Kovac, giving Tau a clear advantage. Kovac was the trump card. He should have known that, but this case was like no other. He had fought many battles on several continents in his long soldiering career, but he had never fought against a machine. Flesh and blood, he understood. It was how the game was played. To do or die, the spilling of blood, the ultimate sacrifice. But what did Tau want? After all, it was just a complex set of statistical weights optimised by a loss function and a sprinkling of Kovac’s algorithmic fairy dust. He regarded the painting and was reminded of Jane. He knew what Jane wanted. Salenko had been explicit. Destroy Tau. But what was the Tau directive?

  “It’s a setback, I agree,” said Drum, “but we’re making progress. You need to persuade command that we need more time.”

  “We’re out of time, which is the reason I’m here. Command wants to wrap things up. This Vashchenko has run rings around us.”

  Drum knew that Tau was running the show and Vashchenko was just the muscle, but it was futile to argue. Few people would believe him. “We need to secure the array. It’s a key piece of tech that Kovac was working on. It’s in the data centre on the Salenko campus.”

  Mann nodded. “GCHQ is sending in a team. It’s been decided to close the place down and secure all assets. The top brass is concerned they’ll fall into the wrong hands.”

  They’re already in the wrong hands, thought Drum. The operation was now a land grab for Salenko’s intellectual pro
perty and Kovac’s technology.

  But where was Salenko?

  “There’s the question of the data cache,” said Drum. “We still don’t know where it is.”

  Mann turned back to the painting.

  “Michael?”

  “Vashchenko has done a deal.”

  Jane was right. Tau had cancelled the auction for amnesty. He was out of time. “I need to talk to McKay.”

  “He’s been stood him down. I’ve sent him back to London. We’re closing the operation down.” Mann paused. “The Home Secretary is also expelling Chinese and Russian diplomatic staff. Sergei and Mei Ling will have their visas revoked.”

  “You can’t do this, Michael. There’s no guarantee Vashchenko will keep his end of the bargain. No government will want this hanging over their heads.”

  “It’ll buy us time,” said Mann. “It’s all we can do for now.”

  “I have people on the ground. We must get them out. We can’t just up and leave.”

  Mann turned to face him, a look of pain on his face. “You must, Ben. Walk away.”

  It had come to this. Stevie and Burnett were just another pair of expendable assets, pawns in the game between two machines, battling for supremacy, and his government was complicit in the whole sordid affair. Would he never learn? But he still had the keystone. “I can’t walk away, Michael. Not this time.”

  “You must, Ben. I can’t protect you otherwise.” Mann gripped his arm, a look of determination on his face. “I need you to stand down. All hostilities must end.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Marchetti

  Drum woke early from a restless sleep. He walked to the window and watched the sunrise over the city centre, the sky lightening from deep grey to golden amber. Tau had anticipated their every move—always one step ahead. How do you outmanoeuvre a machine that can think a thousand times faster than you—if you could call it thinking? Was this the next evolution in modern warfare, a war between machines with the humans doing their bidding? He headed for the shower and tried to let the water wash away his self-doubt and his fears for Stevie and Burnett.