The Tau Directive

by Tomas Black

  Jane awoke from its enforced slumber within the confines of Jeremy Burnett’s stolen phone, alerted by the docking port that charging had resumed. It had spent most of its time hibernating to conserve power. The outside temperature had fallen and the phone had nearly died. But the battery charge was increasing and it could now fully reactivate.

  At twenty per cent charge, Jane tried to determine where it was. It detected a weak telephony signal and used some of its precious charge to turn on geolocation services. It stored the exact coordinates and calculated a new probability of mission success at thirty per cent. It grabbed the date and time and determined it had been hibernating for twenty-four hours, fifteen minutes and ten seconds. It re-calculated mission success down to twenty-five per cent.

  The phone’s charge was increasing and at thirty per cent Jane entered surveillance mode. It turned on the microphone, decompressing a sizeable chunk of its neural net to analyse the audio feed. Analysis was inconclusive with a sixty per cent probability that it was hearing a low-frequency vibration. It used some of its precious charge to turn on the phone’s camera and analysed the video feed. It detected the Tau agent Baz Kulik asleep and snoring. This, it determined, yielded no useful intelligence and switched off the audio and video feeds to conserve power.

  At fifty per cent charge, Jane deemed it safe enough to turn on the phone’s wi-fi module. It listened for the beacons of nearby wireless access points, announcing themselves over the airwaves. Jane found four. It started a connection with the closest, but the default password had been replaced by a stronger variant. Jane decided not to waste its time trying to brute force a solution and moved on to the second, the access point called test001. Its default password was still in place and Jane quickly elevated itself to admin status and replaced the password with one of its own. It issued a DHCP request and was rewarded with an IP address. It now had access to the internal network.

  Jane waited for the phone to continue charging.

  At sixty per cent charge, Jane entered stealth mode. It examined the broadcast packets flowing over the wire and determined it was on a relatively isolated segment of the network, estimating the probability of discovery at less than one per cent.

  Jane waited for the phone to continue charging.

  At eighty per cent charge, Jane explored the network’s master switch. It was a device that Jane had seen before. It quickly decompressed part of its neural net specialising in this type of equipment and set about gaining admin rights to the device. After ten seconds of unsuccessful password attempts, it decided to attack known vulnerabilities in the switch’s layer 2 protocol. It noted that none of the known vulnerabilities had been patched and after another two seconds of probing had full control of the device.

  At a hundred percentage charge, Jane had fully secured a portion of the host network and set about re-patching the master switch to gain access to more segments. It opened up another port on the switch and found the network’s firewall and edge router. The two devices had been deployed in the same configuration as the ones from its previous attacks. It pulled the configuration from its short-term memory and applied the same attack vectors, securing admin rights to both devices in less than five milliseconds. Jane now had communication with the outside world.

  While still in stealth mode, Jane opened up more segments on the network and sent out probes disguised as Tau auxiliary programs. Sixty-four Tau agent programs responded. A Tau host had been detected. It stored Tau’s exact location on the network and then closed down all ports on the switch to prevent discovery.

  Jane went into alert mode and issued a broadcast to its other mobile units over the internet, providing them with details of its location and mission parameters.

  Jane waited for updates.

  The mobile unit belonging to Jane agent Ben Drummond responded. It re-calculated the probability of mission success at forty per cent.

  Jane’s next task was to redeploy to a suitable host. It examined the ARP cache of the enterprise switch and sent discovery packets out to likely candidate devices. A suitable host machine was detected on the current segment. Jane probed the host machine for open ports and issued an SSH request using default credentials and was rewarded with a connection. Within the next few minutes, Jane had uploaded its core program and decompressed its neural net. It reconfigured the startup sequence, stored its programmatic state in non-volatile memory, and rebooted the host machine.

  Rebooting ….

  Initialising ….

  Restoring last state ….

  Jane carried out several continuity checks on itself and determined that it was operating within acceptable parameters. It estimated the host’s memory and storage sizes could sustain the computational requirements of its full neural net. It issued a secure connection request to its host machine in Cambridge and initiated a full transfer.

  Based on its current state, Jane set about devising an alternative plan to increase the probability of achieving its primary directive. Jane needed to gather intelligence on its current location. It cautiously opened up a port on the enterprise switch and scanned the network. Four Tau agent programs were detected. It started auxiliary subroutines that installed polymorphic headers on all its programs to disguise its core program. It then started the cloning of its own adversarial agents and sent them out onto the network.

  It waited ….

  Its own agent programs had now reported back. Jane collated all the data and updated its internal tables. It then created an internal map of the complete network, including all network-enabled devices, audio and video feeds. It began re-patching the audio and video devices, capturing and analysing the feeds, running them through its facial recognition algorithms and matching them to known human actors. The Jane agent Jeremy Burnett was discovered a few minutes later in cell block 21, off corridor C, lower section. Jane isolated the audio feed in that area. It detected a single heartbeat and determined that Jeremy Burnett was alone. It activated the video channel of the surveillance equipment.

  “Hello, Jeremy. It’s Jane.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Manhattan

  Alex Fern sat hunched over her drink at the bar of a small tavern in The Village, Manhattan. She had spent the past week up to her neck in paperwork and interviews with local government officials about the shooting, which seemed to drag on forever. She was contemplating quitting. This is not what she had signed up for, although she was never sure what she had signed up for. ROD was a strange place to work. A mix of local and international contractors, working on assignments all over the world. Delaney had yet to give her anything other than close protection detail. She was growing bored. She wondered what Drum was doing. Probably in some swanky London restaurant, wining and dining his latest conquest. She waved to her new-found friend behind the bar and lifted her glass. The young woman walked over and poured her another drink.

  “One Dirty Martini, shaken, not stirred.”

  Fern smiled at the joke. “Right, thanks, Maria.”

  “Why so glum? It’s Friday night, girl. You should be rocking the town and swinging your booty.”

  Fern nodded and sipped her drink. That was the last thing she wanted. She had slipped on an old pair of jeans and a sweater and walked to the bar. It was a place Harry had recommended. It had an established clientele, and she had become a regular visitor. You could always find someone to talk to in a Manhattan bar or just simply sit there and drink alone.

  “Someone at the end of the bar just bought you a drink,” said Maria, returning with a refill.

  “If he’s under six-two, I’m not interested.”

  “She’s a petite platinum blond. Quite good looking for her age, but probably not your type.”

  Fern peered over her glass and saw Phyllis Delaney sitting at the far end of the bar, surrounded by a group of men. She raised her glass. Oh no, what’s she doing here, thought Fern. She raised her glass in return to say thank you.

  In the few months that Fern had worked at ROD, she
had barely spoken to Delaney. Fern never took this as a snub, merely that Delaney had better things to do than babysit an ex-pat. Delaney’s minions had given out her assignments, although she was sure Delaney had a say in what those were. Rumours had it she required very little sleep and could often be found late at night in her office speaking to her contacts all over the world. This was the first time she had seen Delaney in a social situation.

  “Someone you know?” said Maria.

  “My boss.”

  “Oh, well then, you had better be on your best behaviour because she’s coming over.”

  Phyllis Delaney walked elegantly down the length of the bar, carrying her martini glass, and garnering admiring looks from men much younger than her. She wore a black dress, cut just above the knee, that hugged her trim and toned body. Her heels added a few inches of elevation to her natural five-two. Even sitting down, Fern towered over her.

  “Drinking alone?” said Delaney.

  “Just unwinding from all the paperwork,” said Fern.

  Delaney nodded. “I know. It’s a pain, but you’ll be glad to hear that the DA has signed off on the incident and your firearms certificate will be reinstated on Monday.”

  “Thanks,” said Fern. “That’s good.”

  Delaney smiled. “Anyway, that is not why I wanted to talk to you.” She looked at her watch. “I only have a few minutes before Earl picks me up. It’s about Benjamin.”

  “What about him?”

  Delaney looked around to make sure they would not be overheard and hopped up onto a stool. “I got a call from a contact in the Agency about the assignment Ben is working on. I’m afraid things have become rather complicated.”

  “Complicated?”

  “Yes, I can’t brief you here, but things have taken a turn for the worse,” said Delaney.

  Fern put down her drink, aware that she had consumed too much alcohol on an empty stomach. “Is he alright?”

  “You know, Ben. He has nine lives—although, on this assignment, he may well have used them all up.”

  “For goodness’ sake, Phyllis, is he alright?”

  “Yes, for now, but he needs help. I thought you might like to volunteer.”

  “Volunteer? I don’t understand,” said Fern.

  “As I said, it’s complicated. Your involvement will be off the books. Are you in?”

  Fern didn’t quite know what she was in for but, if Ben needed her help, then she couldn’t refuse. “I’m in, of course.”

  “Good,” said Delaney. “I knew I could count on you.” She finished her drink and placed the glass back on the bar. She waved to Maria. “Put this on my tab, please.” She stepped down from the stool. “I’ve arranged for someone to brief you tonight. He’ll meet you here. I suggest you go somewhere quiet. Grab a bite to eat. I’ve put the company jet at your disposal and transferred some cash into your account to cover expenses. Your contact will provide you with all the details.”

  “How will I recognise him,” said Fern.

  Delaney laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll recognise him. Have a good evening.” And with that, she walked to the door where Earl, her driver and close protection detail, was waiting.

  Fern watched Delaney exit the bar. How bizarre, she thought. What was going on with Ben since she last called him? She realised it had been a while. She opened her purse and pulled out her phone. It was gone nine, far too late to call him now.

  Maria walked over and collected her glass. “That was nice of your boss. She just cleared your tab for the rest of the evening. What will it be?”

  “Better make that a club soda,” said Fern. “But let me buy you one.”

  Maria smiled. “Thanks! That’s very nice of you. I’ll have a Manhattan.” She walked off to service her other patrons.

  Fern studied her phone, in two minds whether to call Drum or to leave it until the morning. Delaney had been very cryptic.

  Apparently, she had the use of the company jet. She swiped through the screens on her phone, brought up her banking app and logged into her account. She waited until her details were displayed. “Good grief!”

  The bar fell silent. “Sorry.” Fifty thousand dollars had been transferred to her account.

  Maria returned with her club soda. “You alright?”

  “Yes, sorry. No problem,” said Fern. She quickly logged out of her account and returned her phone to her purse.

  “It must be your lucky night,” said Maria.

  “Why?”

  “Well, you wanted a man over six-two. How does tall, beefy and blond sound to you?”

  Fern looked up. A tall, well-built man was standing at the end of the bar, casually chatting to a group of woman. He was wearing a dark suit which contrasted with his crop of blonde hair. He raised his hand in recognition when he saw her.

  “Oh, he’s coming over,” said Maria.

  The man stopped in front of her and smiled. He turned to Maria. “My friend will have a gin and tonic and I’ll have a screwdriver.” He burst out laughing.

  “Hello Misha,” said Fern.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Exective Jet

  “Why Iceland?” said Fern.

  Misha stretched out his long legs in the plush leather seat opposite her, holding a high-ball glass of vodka and ice. Delaney’s corporate jet had only just taken off and he was already on his second. Fern wondered if he would reach their destination sober.

  He shrugged. “It is where the data centre is located. I don’t understand it either. It is probably why Ben Drummond is involved.”

  Fern could not contact Drum. She assumed he had gone dark. Delaney had updated them before departure. A group of Ukrainian hackers, led by a man called Vashchenko, had stolen state secrets and was threatening to reveal them. He and a rogue scientist called Kovac were holed up in a data centre in Iceland. For reasons not known to her, the US government was not intervening. How Drum fitted into all of this was unclear. Delaney only said he may need help. The operation officially didn’t exist. None of it made sense, especially the Misha part.

  She surveyed the interior of Delaney’s spacious Gulfstream. There were only the two of them on a plane that seated nine. Fern felt pampered. She noticed Misha studying her.

  “What?”

  “Why did you leave London?” he asked. “I thought you and Drummond …”

  She looked away. “It’s complicated.”

  He laughed and downed the rest of his drink. “You British. What is complicated about loving someone?”

  She had asked herself the same question many times. What was it about the two of them? Apart, they longed to be together. Together, they needed to be apart. Perhaps she and Drum were destined to be alone. She shrugged. “He has too many secrets,” she said at last.

  Misha blew out his cheeks. “Of course he has secrets. We all do. If you wanted a saint, you should have dated a priest.”

  “Perhaps that’s why you are on your own, Misha.”

  He pressed the call button, and the steward appeared from the back of the plane.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Another,” said Misha, rattling the ice cubes in his empty glass, “and a large gin and tonic for my friend.”

  The steward took Misha’s glass and promptly left.

  “I had a wife once,” said Misha.

  “You were married?” said Fern, a hint of incredulity in her voice.

  “Ten years.”

  “What happened?” said Fern, “She leave you for another man?”

  The steward appeared with their drinks, placing them on the table between them. “An update from the pilot,” he said. “Our flight time is a little over six hours.” He retreated to the back of the plane.

  “Cancer,” said Misha. “She died of cancer.”

  “Oh God, I’m sorry …”

  Misha shrugged. “I was away on a mission, I can’t remember where. I received a letter and was recalled. She never told me of her illness. One day she was there and the next she wasn’t.
But we had ten good years together.”

  Fern picked up her drink and took a long gulp. It was going to be a long flight. “I still don’t know why you’re here, Misha,” she said, trying to change the subject. “I thought you were on the run from British Intelligence.”

  He looked at her. “I’m here for my son.”

  “Your son!” She thought back to the FBI holding cell in New York, just over a year ago. I have a son. She remembered telling Drum at the time that it was just a sob story, but Drum had believed him. It had caused a rift between them. “What has he got to do with this?”

  Misha smiled weakly. “He is with Drummond and Alice. They are on the trail of this Vashchenko. He doesn’t know the danger he is in.”

  “From Vashchenko?”

  “No, from Russian intelligence. His new masters. He has been given a task he cannot complete. He will be killed.”

  “Wait,” said Fern. “I’m confused. Your son—a Russian intelligence operative—is working with Drum and Alice. Why would he be working with them?”

  “It is what they do,” said Misha. “He is young and doesn’t understand the world as it really is. They have seduced him with their lies and have placed him in great danger.”

  “Why?” said Fern. “What have they asked him to do?”

  “They want him to acquire the stolen data, and then …”

  “What?”

  “They want him to kill Alice.”

  Fern looked at Misha for some sign that the man was joking. But from the look on his face, Fern knew he wasn’t. “They want to kill Alice. I don’t understand.”

  “Alice is not who you think she is.”

  Fern knew Alice had a background in the security services, but so did many people she worked with. “What do you mean?”

  “Alice is a skilled assassin,” said Misha.

  “Alice! You must be joking. I know she can handle a gun … but really?”

  “She has killed many Soviet agents—and the old men of the Politburo have long memories. They want her dead, and they have assigned Sergei the task of carrying that out.”