The Noble Mercenary

by Patrick John Donahoe

  The group engaged in small talk while they finished their excellent glasses of connoisseur quality French wine. The Baron dominated the conversation. He loved to tell stories of how he built up Hapsburg Industries, the company his father had handed over to him, from a small niche company to a major world recognized enterprise. He enjoyed including stories of his ‘wheelings and dealings’ with most of the major powers around the world, especially those belonging to the axis of evil.

  Twenty Six

  As kurt drove up the gravel road to the clinic on opening day, he listened to the calls of birds and monkeys from atop the tall trees. Even though he was arriving at daybreak, there was already a long line of prospective patients extending into the forest. He needed to unpack and prepare quickly for the imminent crush of ailments, so he couldn’t be distracted by the waiting needy. He parked his Land Rover next to the building. Aloisia exited from the passenger side, opened the back and started unloading the supplies she and Kurt had brought for opening day.

  The photographer was scheduled to arrive at 7 A.M., an hour before the clinic was supposed to officially open. Kurt wasn’t interested in having his photograph taken to show off his benevolence, but the Board insisted on making the most of the positive image.

  Kurt helped Aloisia bring all the supplies inside where she organized what they had as best as she could, given their uncertainty of all the many ailments they would be asked to treat that day. While the clinic was being built, Kurt had ventured into this primitive area with just his black bag and a few bottles of medicine. He had treated many of the indigenous for a variety of problems, ranging from infected cuts to broken bones never properly set, to fevers and rashes. Kurt knew he would not be able to provide adequate care for all who would ask for his help. His resources were limited, but he had to think on the positive side. He could, and would, help most of them before day’s end.

  Aloisia and Kurt carried the small freezer/refrigerator and Honda power generator inside the building. One of Kurt’s current projects was arranging for permanent electrical power to be brought in from the main road. Sao Paulo Electrical had to be convinced that even though it would take years to recover the expense for extending power to the clinic, they would ultimately benefit from Tridente’s PR campaign. For now, portable power would have to do.

  Although Aloisia suggested the clinic have strong metal doors which could be locked, Kurt wanted an openness to invite the locals in. Kurt told her he would install doors when they had expanded to the point where they couldn’t take the expensive equipment and materials home at the end of the day.

  The clinic was a labor of love, at least for Kurt. He often wondered why Aloisia was so involved. She was a privileged rich girl with a medical degree, who could be working in a large prestigious hospital with all the accolades due to a doctor. She must have some regrets. He hoped she remained with him for love and shared purpose. He enjoyed her company and tried to not dwell on the possibility she was staying with him for some ulterior motive, or because her father, and/or the Select was forcing her to further their nefarious schemes.

  Aloisia had been a joy assisting with the selection and purchase of the land, the construction of the clinic, and the acquisition of basic medicines, supplies and equipment to start operations. Kurt had acquiesced to pay more attention to the day-to-day running of Tridente, and serve on the Board of Directors in return for their sponsorship of the clinic. Aloisia and Kurt had convinced the Board that the clinic would provide a great deal of PR for the company, which many people had accused of being unsympathetic to the poor under Karl Brandt’s management.

  Kurt’s heart skipped a beat as his first patient entered the compact clinic he had built in the jungle. Kurt and Aloisia dealt with all manner of illness, from common colds, cuts, infections, broken bones, pink eye, lice, animal bites, diarrhea, and constipation, to diseases they could only provide palliative remedies such as cancer and tuberculosis.

  It was after dark when Kurt attended to his last patient, a young girl with a wandering eye. He put drops in both of her eyes and placed a patch over the good eye. He gave the girl’s mother a bottle of drops and instructed her to keep the patch on for eight hours a day, and described a set of eye muscle strengthening exercises to the girl and her mother. He told the mother to bring the girl back for another exam on Monday, the next clinic day, to assess her improvement.

  Kurt leaned back in his chair, and assessed the events of the day with Aloisia, who sat down on the low table next to Kurt. He took her hand and held it for a minute before saying, “We had quite a day for ourselves.”

  “Are you happy?” she asked.

  “More than I’ve ever been,” he replied, and squeezed her hand tenderly.

  “I’m glad. I guess I never really understood what it was going to be like working as a real doctor. It all seemed so distant to me.”

  “Well, you were wonderful. I’m glad you were here to take care of most of the female patients. They would have been reluctant to divulge their female problems with me.”

  “Don’t feel bad, they were reluctant to share them with me.” Aloisia indicated the contents of the clinic with a sweep of her hand. “Looks like we used all the medicines and supplies we brought, so our packing up should be easy.”

  “We’ll have to bring more next time. Word of mouth will probably double our patient load next week.”

  “Do you think the Board will be willing to buy more, and more, medicines and supplies as the demand grows?”

  “I hope the photographer took a lot of sympathetic video and still shots. You and I are going to show the Board the good we’re doing here, and promote a series of TV slots to put Tridente in the public eye. It will all work out.”

  “We’ll make it work,” Aloisia assured him, with an added kiss on his lips.

  That night Kurt was exhausted from the day’s work and excitement, and Aloisia claimed to be ready for a good night’s rest. But after they put away the refrigerator and freezer, the Honda generator, and other equipment in his father’s jungle house garage, Aloisia proceeded to demonstrate her youthful stamina. At first he merely yielded to her demands until he became caught up in her enthusiasm.

  Kurt rolled off Aloisia after enjoying the greatest sex he had ever experienced. He had loved Leora with all his heart. They had made love as two lovers in love, but Aloisia was a different breed of cat. She took sex to another level, a level Kurt had never experienced, or anticipated. He wasn’t sure he could ever love her as he had loved Leora, but he hoped he could always count on having her in bed.

  Having slipped into a deep sleep, Kurt was jostled back awake by Aloisia. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Can’t it wait until morning?” he groaned.

  Aloisia snuggled up to Kurt, laid her hand on his bare chest, and whispered in his ear, “Do you love me?”

  Kurt knew he had to tell her what she wanted to hear, “Yes, of course I do.” He wasn’t sure he said it with enough sincerity, but he hoped she would accept the answer.

  “Good, I’ve done everything you’ve asked, and then some. Now I need a favor from you.”

  “Anything, you know that,” his danger alert raised its ugly head.

  “We have to do a favor for my father.”

  Kurt’s ire brought him wide awake, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “What favor?”

  Aloisia wrapped her long legs around Kurt’s waist making it difficult for him to protest too loudly. “The only reason my father agreed to let me come to Brazil with you is so we can assess the progress of a research doctor he hired to continue your father’s work on longevity.”

  Kurt broke loose from her leg hold and sat upright in bed. “Aloisia, you can’t ask me to be involved in terrorist activities!” he shouted in his angriest voice.

  “No, silly, and neither do I. Doctor Ehrlich is not working on deadly viruses, he’s trying to further the development of a longevity serum. The one your father worked on for so long. Doctor Ehrl
ich has been telling my father he’s making progress. Since his efforts are costing my father a small fortune, he would like for you, for us, to provide an independent assessment.”

  “Nothing more?” Kurt grumbled.

  “That’s all, I promise.”

  “That’s all.”

  Aloisia waited until Kurt was nearly back asleep again, and said, “We have so much in common and can do so much to make the world a better place.”

  Kurt stirred, and said, “How?”

  “We could continue your father’s work.”

  There it was. The elephant in the room that Kurt hoped would never reveal itself. “I don’t want to continue his work.” Kurt turned to his side and faced Aloisia. He looked in her deep blue eyes, and said, “I am not a terrorist . . . I’m not a murderer.”

  “Your father’s life work was to develop a fountain of youth serum. Why wouldn’t you want to help develop something like that?”

  Kurt asked, “How do you know so much about my father’s work?”

  “You and I are children of the Select. You must have realized I know somewhat of my father’s and your father’s business.”

  “You don’t believe in his desire to take over the world, do you?”

  “Of course not silly. I want to be here with you. We have a good life together.”

  “We do,” Kurt’s weariness had caught up to him.

  Aloisia sat up, and let the bed sheets fall exposing her upper body.

  Kurt felt he could never get used to Aloisia’s natural beauty. Her perfect body was like a drug to him. He pulled Aloisia back down and snuggled up close to her, weariness overcoming his indignation. “You have been very good to me since my loss . . . I’ll assess this doctor’s work, but I’m not getting involved in . . .” Kurt’s exhaustion from the long day’s efforts in his new clinic, and Aloisia’s bedtime antics dragged him down into a troubled sleep.

  Aloisia kissed Kurt on his sleeping face. She smiled at how easy it was for her to manipulate him.

  Twenty Seven

  Alicia returned to her office after the morning’s executive meeting to find Desiree studying data on her Top Secret access monitor. Alicia approached Desiree, and asked, “Find something interesting?”

  “Yes, the Chinese have an electronic dossier on the Baron. They have some kind of fascination with him, and a couple of his other powerful cronies.”

  Alicia scanned the monitor over Desiree’s shoulder. “Who would have ever thought that the NSA and CIA would be monitoring not only all of our own citizens’ communications, but almost everyone else’s in the world, and that the Chinese, the Russians, and the Indians, would be monitoring the NSA and CIA’s communications, and this group you are investigating, the Select, I mean the Specials, are monitoring their monitoring, and we’re monitoring the Specials monitoring.”

  “It’s a grand cluster grope,” replied Desiree, as Jacques would have answered. “All the monitoring, and monitoring of the monitoring is surprising. What I find amazing is how you can make everyone think that all the hacking is being done by everyone else but us, and the Specials seem to not be aware that you’re hacking them.”

  “The secret leakers don’t have access to the level of security I have, only a handful of people do. We have too many people in the employ of the NSA and CIA as government workers, and contractors, to allow anyone to know our real capabilities. You will have to be read in to one of the most classified SCI compartments ever created now that you’ve seen, and participated in our program called Trigraph Whispering Smith. I’ll read you in before you leave today. You will be one of less than a dozen people with access, Desiree.”

  “I’m honored. I thought your program was called Prism.”

  “Prism was a cover for Whispering Smith, so if, and when, Prism was leaked, our deeper capability would not be discovered. Whispering Smith continues unharmed.”

  “Who comes up with these tactics?” asked Desiree.

  “The one you call the Chairman, we call Yoda. Someday I’ll tell you what I know about him, but I don’t know much myself . . . and you can tell me what you know.”

  “Amazing wheels within wheels. You may be surprised, but I don’t know much about the Chairman either, but he does help us when the need arises. Right now I need to dig deeper into this can of worms.”

  “You know Zymurgy’s Law, don’t you?”

  “Yes, once you open a can of worms, it requires the next size larger can to put them all back in again.”

  “Close enough. By the way, where is Serena?”

  “She’s on her way to Munich. Moira, her Mossad assistant, called and told Serena that something is up. Jacques apparently has wormed his way into the Baron’s circle, and is going off to participate in some kind of drone activity. I’m trying to hack into the Baron’s email and telephone conversations to find out what I can. Serena is going to contact Jacques and find out what he knows. Jacques thinks he’s under constant surveillance and is trying to not blow his cover.”

  “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know how I can help.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Desiree thought she understood a little about the internet when she started her investigation of the Select, but she did not realize how deep and wide it was. Having access to Alicia’s computer was a revelation to her. She tried to not be a burden on Alicia while doing her research, but there were so many tools available she had to have help.

  One of the tools was X-KEYSCORE, or XKS, which allowed her to hack into the Hapsburg Aeronautical company’s computers. She hoped to find out what progress, if any, the Baron was making on stealth drones. She found the reports he had been providing to the US Air Force which didn’t mention any effort being made on stealth, and hints in company emails to the CIA that he was making some progress. He must be keeping the CIA files in a computer, or computers, not connected in any way to the internet.

  She did discover that the company’s computers were receiving highly encrypted material from an unknown source. The unknown computer was shielded by a complex arrangement of computer skips that even she couldn’t trace. The source was using The Onion Router, or TOR, to communicate via the Dark Web.

  Desiree asked Alicia, “Why does the NSA allow criminals to surf the net anonymously using TOR?”

  Alicia replied, “We’re not a police force. TOR was developed by the Naval Research Laboratory to protect government communications. We can’t shut it down, although we do assist the FBI take an out of line user to task every once in a while, like the Silk Road which bought and sold illegal goods on the Dark Web. I need to assign Crackerjack, one of our brightest analysts, to help you learn how to use TOR, and dig into the Dark Web.”

  “I would appreciate any help I can get. I hate to bother you all the time.”

  “You’re no bother. I’m always on call, but let Crackerjack help you.”

  “Thank you. I’ve found some other individuals who are also receiving highly encrypted data from an unknown computer. The IT guru behind the Special’s communications is very impressive, whoever he or she is.”

  “We’re in the age of super hackers. Some people, gray hats, do it just for fun.”

  “Can you have someone decrypt a few of the suspicious files I’ve downloaded?”

  “Put the files on this thumb drive and I’ll have Crackerjack decrypt them for you.” Alicia handed Desiree a Marvin the Martian thumb drive. “The files are no larger than 32 gigabytes are they?”

  Desiree took one look at the thumb drive, and laughed. “No, they’re not.”

  Alicia said, “I can’t seem to lose that drive for some reason.”

  Desiree plugged the thumb drive into the computer and downloaded two suspicious files. Both files were 1.02 megabytes in size, and had the same date-time group down to the second. “But, I think they’re important because the files came from two different computers to two of our Special individuals, and are the same size with the same time stamp. Once we figure out how to decrypt these t
wo files, I think we can break the rest of their correspondence.”

  “You’re getting the hang of our business. Maybe we can keep you on a permanent basis.”

  “As much as I’m honored by the offer, I can’t accept. I’ll have to return to the CDC soon, but I am enjoying my time here.”

  “Don’t be too hasty. I’ll give this drive to Crackerjack and see what she can do.”

  “I can do it.”

  “I’ll do it. I have to talk to her about another assignment she’s working on.” Alicia left her office, and Desiree continued her pursuit of the Select.

  An hour and a half later Alicia returned. “Here are your two files, decrypted. They’re two versions of the same drawing, but one is annotated in French and the other in German. It appears to be the seating arrangements for the 2014 Olympics in Sochi Russia. If it’s part of an assassination conspiracy, it could prove to be very valuable, plus we now have a handle on the encryption-decryption software they’re using.”

  “Impressive. It also appears whoever generated these files can hack into the Russian’s secure network.”

  “You’ve got the right idea. Find us some more files to work on. We may be on to something big here. A sort of hacking Rosetta Stone.”

  Desiree passed several files to Alicia. They determined that the Select had somehow hacked into the Chinese, the Russian, the US, the German, French, Indian and many more countries Intelligence organizations, financial organizations, and commercial companies. Somehow they had hacked the planet, but were not storing Meta data like the NSA was.

  The Select were using some sophisticated computer techniques to determine only that data that served their purposes, either looking for key words and phrases, or some more sophisticated capability, such as neural net software, that worked like the human mind rather than simplistic algorithms that required intensive human interpretation. However, they were gathering their data, Desiree was very impressed.