Dan went first, the sharp ends of the severed wire tearing at his jacket and webbing. Once through, he turned and kept his rifle sight trained on the scrubby trees that bordered the perimeter, watching for movement, his finger resting on the trigger guard while Mitch and David crawled through.
Mitch let the fencing fall back into place before setting off once more, and they made slow progress towards the doors of the facility in single file, a few paces away from each other.
Just in case.
Dan suppressed a yawn, the sudden fatigue taking him by surprise. He blinked rapidly and shook his head to try to clear the fogginess that was threatening to dull his senses.
Exhaustion had consumed the team for the past three weeks, sapping energy and causing friction amongst them. Arguments had broken out over the slightest of infringements, even though they all knew it was a natural reaction to the stresses of the posting.
He concentrated on the surrounding vegetation while following Mitch’s footsteps, placing his boots in the tread marks left behind in the baked dirt, and vowed to devour his second energy bar the first opportunity he had.
They reached the doors without incident. Dan reached into a pouch and pulled out a length of det cord, but David held up his hand to stop him and then pointed to Mitch. ‘Pick the lock. Try not to damage it.’
Dan frowned, a question forming on his tongue.
David pre-empted it. ‘Orders are to try and leave no trace of us being here,’ he said. ‘So that means no explosives.’
Another question crossed Dan’s mind, but he recalled Mitch’s assertion that David would be joining the secret service at some point, so instead, he took a deep breath and concentrated on covering Mitch’s back while he knelt at the door with his lock picks.
The lock gave way in under thirty seconds.
David checked his watch and then activated the comms mike tucked into his collar. ‘Terry? We’ll need twenty minutes. Make sure no-one else enters, or Taylor and Frazer will shoot first and ask questions later.’
‘Copy that.’
Dan followed his two colleagues into the building and let the front door swing shut behind him.
Their feet echoed off the walls of the passageway as David led the way through the right-hand side of the facility.
Pockets of light entered the passageway from open doors that led to hastily abandoned offices, and Dan shook his head at the stacks of documents that had been left lying around, too late to be put through the shredding machines that had been set next to each office door.
The irony that they were in the control building for one of the provinces’ biggest electricity providers, feeling their way in the gloom due to an eight-week long power cut, wasn’t lost on Dan.
‘What are we doing here, boss?’
David kept a brisk pace as they methodically cleared each room while progressing up the length of the corridor, farther into the heart of the building.
‘This is the headquarters for one of the big electricity suppliers,’ he said. ‘We have to activate some of the computers.’
‘How? The place is dead.’
‘There should be an emergency power generator somewhere in the building,’ explained David. ‘But first, we need to find the main control room.’
Their boots clattered over the tiled floor as they picked up their pace, conscious of the twenty-minute deadline David had set slowly slipping away.
Finally, they turned a corner, and the passageway opened out into a large room, full of computers.
‘Bingo,’ said Mitch.
‘Right,’ said David and slung his rifle over his shoulder. ‘We need to get a few of them up and running as soon as Taylor finds the auxiliary power.’ He signalled to Dan. ‘There should be a door leading down to a basement a little farther along the corridor. Take Mitch with you to pick the lock if necessary. Hopefully, there’s a generator for emergencies that still has some diesel left in it.’
Dan nodded, spun on his heel, and led the way out of the room, hoping to hell they were long gone before the militants returned.
Four
They found the door, a solid steel structure, within seconds of leaving the computer room.
Two locks sealed its contents from prying eyes, and Mitch dropped to his knees, pulling out his lock picks.
Dan watched as Mitch twisted and turned the pieces of metal within the lock, concentration etched across his features.
‘Where’d you learn to do that, anyway?’
The corner of Mitch’s mouth quirked. ‘Let’s just say I had an interesting childhood,’ he said.
Dan raised an eyebrow, waiting for more, but the other man ignored him.
He waited until Mitch had picked the last of the locks on the door, then motioned to him to move aside, pulled the door open, and stared at the concrete steps leading down into darkness.
He swallowed and tried to alleviate the chill that crawled across the back of his neck.
‘I’ll take it from here. Go watch David’s back.’
‘Copy that.’
The sound of Mitch’s footsteps jogging away echoed off the bare walls of the corridor, and then Dan was alone.
He checked the flashlight attached to the side of his rifle, making sure the bulb wasn’t about to fade. He tweaked the weapon’s position in his grip until the beam followed his line of vision, and then began the descent, his heartbeat hammering.
There was an almost prehistoric fear about going underground; Dan had never been comfortable with the whole concept – school trips to cave systems in the south of England had left him wrung out, craving daylight. Even in his previous career as a geologist, he’d had to psych himself up to descend mine shafts.
Despite the door at the top of the steps being left wide open, his imagination wreaked havoc on common sense, and he fought down the sense of panic that threatened to consume him, his breathing hard.
Sweat trickled from under his helmet and ran down one side of his face. He stopped, wiped it away, and gave himself a mental shake.
He refocused on the task at hand and turned his head to take in his surroundings.
The walls and roof of the basement were all concrete, and he suspected that the lower level had been built to withstand a direct hit from a missile. A mustiness filled the air, and he wondered how long it had been since fresh ventilation had been pumped through the shafts that peppered the ceiling.
The edge of his flashlight caught movement to his right as he reached the bottom step, and he swung round, dropping to a defensive position, rifle raised.
A fleshy tail retreated from the reach of his flashlight beam at the same time an indignant squeak reached his ears, and he mumbled a curse as the large rat scuttled off into the darkness before he straightened and took his bearings.
To his right, the beam from his flashlight reflected off the dirty metal outer casing of a diesel generator, and he hurried over to it.
He ran his hands over the back to check the exhaust hoses were attached, not wishing to asphyxiate himself as soon as he started it up, then traced their path up the wall until they disappeared through the ducting above his head.
He crossed his fingers and hit the power button, hoping David’s assumption about the generator still having some diesel left in it proved correct.
He stepped back as the machine shuddered and then sprung to life, the noise filling the underground space.
Dan waited a few seconds to make sure the generator didn’t suddenly stop and then turned his attention to the next task.
The basement layout was a simple box-like affair, with three enormous computer servers filling the far wall only metres from Dan’s position. He strode over to them, hoping that his meagre knowledge of Arabic would suffice to work out how to power up the connection to the computer room above.
He grunted an exclamation of surprise as he neared, and the light shone off a familiar Western-based logo, the labels above switches all in English.
He ran his fingers over t
he dials as he read from left to right, seeking a clue to which switch might be the main trip to the computer system, muttering under his breath.
Something ran over his foot, and he cried out and then cursed.
‘Fucking rats,’ he hissed.
He jumped at another squeak next to his leg, and he lashed out with his boot, connecting with something soft that scurried away, bickering between its teeth as it retreated.
He wiped sweat from his eyes and refocused on the switches.
‘Come on, come on, where are you?’
He stabbed at the label when he found it, relief surging through his veins. A single switch below pointed to the “off” position, and Dan flicked it to “on”.
He swung round at the sound of footsteps near the top of the steps, and then Mitch’s voice carried into the darkness.
‘That’s it! Get back up here.’
‘Copy that,’ said Dan and hurried towards the relative light of the upper level.
Five
By the time Dan had reached the control room, David and Mitch had already bypassed the rudimentary password security of the computers’ previous owners.
David had pulled a chair over to his adopted desk and was busy typing a string of code into one of the computers, the black background of the screen awash with letters and numbers that meant nothing to Dan.
‘I didn’t know you knew computers so well, sir,’ said Mitch.
David’s hands rested on the keyboard, and then he spun the chair round to face Dan and Mitch.
‘What I tell you now doesn’t leave this room,’ he said. ‘You’ve both signed the Official Secrets Act. Word gets out about this, it’s twenty years in prison – minimum. Understand?’
Mitch nodded, while Dan’s mind raced.
What the hell had David got them into?
He pushed the thought aside, relief flooding his chest that he’d insisted on taking H’s place in the lead-up to the infiltration of the building. Whatever was going on here, it certainly wouldn’t do the young officer’s career any good.
‘Understood,’ he said.
‘There should be enough auxiliary power from the back-up generator for what we need,’ said David, reaching into his pocket.
‘I’m surprised half of this stuff hasn’t been taken,’ Mitch murmured. ‘Everything else has been torn to shit around here and sold off.’
‘It still might,’ said David. ‘But if it isn’t, then this software will kick in the moment the system’s online again.’
Dan frowned. ‘What’s that?’
David held up a USB stick. ‘Our mission,’ he said and plugged the thumb drive into the nearest computer terminal.
‘What do you mean?’ Dan stepped closer and peered over the other man’s shoulder as he punched a string of commands into the keyboard.
‘This, and Afghanistan will probably be one of the last conflicts whole countries will get involved with,’ he said. He pointed at the computer screen as it flickered to life. ‘This is the future, Taylor. Countries infiltrating each other’s networks. Cyber warfare.’
David’s fingers pecked at the keyboard as he spoke. ‘Certain people believe it’s a good idea to keep an eye on Iraqi installations such as this once we’re out of the country,’ he said. ‘They believe that by spying on the utility companies, they’ll be able to head off any repeat of someone like Saddam Hussain exerting too much influence in the region.’
Dan folded his arms across his chest and frowned. ‘How?’
David stopped typing. ‘There’s a program on here, a specialised one, that’ll track keystrokes on these computers once we load it into the system. We only need to apply it to the ones here – the program will seek out the others in the building through the servers once the main power is switched back on. Whenever that happens.’
He typed a command and sat back in his chair. ‘Takes fifteen minutes to download and distribute,’ he explained.
‘Wait, so you’re saying whoever wrote that program will be able to control this facility?’ asked Mitch.
‘Yes. And if anyone like Saddam Hussain gets into power again, they’ll be able to shut it down, too,’ said David.
‘Why today?’ asked Dan.
‘Three reasons,’ said David. ‘First of all, the software had to be designed and then encrypted so it can’t be located in the system once this place goes live. It only arrived last night. Second, it’ll help British interests get a toe-hold in the rebuilding of the country. No-one else will be able to work around this coding – it’ll throw up too many issues. Third, there’s going to be a public announcement from the Prime Minister tomorrow that more British troops are going to be pulled out of Basra.’ His eyes held Dan’s. ‘And there’s no way in hell the British secret service was going to let the Americans get to this stuff first.’
Dan rocked back on his heels, his heart thumping.
They’d all heard the reports about the number of British and American companies baying at the thought of lucrative contracts for the rebuilding of Iraq.
Dan frowned. ‘So, we’re not the only ones doing this?’
‘Correct. Every British patrol that’s out today will be visiting a pre-defined facility,’ replied David. He paused. ‘Every facility we’ve got control of, anyway,’ he added.
‘You call this control?’ hissed Mitch. ‘We nearly got killed getting in here.’
Dan reached out and punched him on the arm. ‘Steady,’ he said.
‘If we don’t do this, they will,’ said David. ‘It’s a mess. It’s going to go on for years, and I don’t think we’ll ever fully appreciate the impact we’ve had on the region until it’s too late.’
Dan turned back, surprised at his senior officer’s frankness, and then realised that Mitch was probably right.
David was up to his neck in it. Spies and all.
Dan bit off a retort as Mitch’s radio crackled to life and the man stepped away, murmuring into his comms mike. The man’s eyes opened wide, and for the first time in his life, Dan saw Mitch’s face pale beyond recognition.
He ran to the window, his rifle raised, and then glanced over his shoulder to where David sat, before turning his attention back to the perimeter of the property. His eyebrows shot up.
‘Er, boss. We’ve got company.’
‘I need another ten minutes.’
‘I don’t think you’re going to get them.’ Mitch swore and spun away from the glass window as it disintegrated, sending shards across his boots. His eyes were wide. ‘They’ve brought all their friends with them.’
‘It wasn’t a request.’
‘Dammit, I thought not,’ Mitch hissed.
Dan ran to the window opposite and edged around the sill. ‘I’ve got one tango approaching my side.’
‘Armed?’
‘Can’t see a weapon. Hang on.’ Dan squinted against the bright light as the man’s hand moved to his side. ‘Ah, shit.’
‘What is it?’ David’s voice echoed off the walls.
‘Petrol bomb.’
‘Shit.’ David tapped his comms mike. ‘Terry? What the hell is going on out there?’
The man’s response filled all their earpieces.
‘We’re coming under fire from several hostiles,’ he said. ‘Multiple locations. Recommend immediate evacuation.’
A bead of sweat ran down Dan’s cheek, and he wiped it away, his headache returning in earnest.
Six
‘Okay,’ said David. ‘Change of plan.’ He pulled an identical USB stick from the front flap of his jacket. ‘We’ll have to do this manually rather than waiting for one computer to do all the work for us.’
Dan took the item that David held out to him. ‘What do I do?’
‘Plug it into each computer in turn. Hit the ‘escape’ button. Wait until the screen goes blank. Then take the stick out and move to the next machine.’
‘Do I switch the machine off afterwards?’
‘No need. We’ll just turn off the auxiliary powe
r once we’re finished.’
‘Got it.’
‘Good. Then hurry,’ said David. ‘Otherwise, we’re going to have a problem bigger than Ben Hur.’
Mitch’s voice carried across to Dan as he worked. ‘What did people say before that film came out?’
‘What?’
‘Ben Hur. The movie. What did people say before the movie came out? If something was bigger than Ben Hur?’
Dan stared at him. ‘Are you serious?’
Mitch shrugged. ‘These things make me think.’
‘Mitch?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Stop thinking.’
‘Enough, you two,’ snapped David. ‘We’re running out of time.’ He tapped the outer casing of the USB stick in the computer next to him, a green LED flashing on its end. ‘Come on,’ he urged.
Dan rubbed his earlobe between his finger and thumb.
David noticed his reticence and shrugged. ‘It’s us or them,’ he said. ‘There are too many countries in this coalition, and God knows how many hangers-on. When this country ramps up again, we have to make sure we can protect its interests.’
And ours, Dan thought.
He shook his head. ‘So where does that leave us?’
‘Alive,’ Mitch called over from the other side of the room. ‘Behind a desk.’ He swore as a series of bullets peppered the window frame next to him and then fired his weapon through the opening. ‘And not dealing with this shit on a daily basis. Fuck. They’re getting closer!’
Dan clenched his teeth and ran to the next desk, inserting the USB stick. He waited until the screen went blank, as David said it would, and then moved to the next.
Moments later, he had reached the far end of the control room.
‘How many more, Taylor?’ called David.
‘Six on this side.’
‘Go and help Frazer. I’ll do those.’
Dan checked the magazine in his rifle, replaced it with a fresh clip, and hurried to where Mitch stood firing short bursts of rounds through the now-unglazed window.
The Legacy Device Page 2
