Waking Wolfe

by S L Shelton

I used the computer, the photo printer, and the laminating machine at the copy center to create credentials for us, being very careful to remove all the temporary files from the system as I completed each task. It took ten minutes for the first one, but the second one took less time as I already had the template made.

  Once I was done, I went back to our room at the hotel. Upon entering, I was startled and had to check the door number to be sure I hadn’t gotten the wrong room; the woman standing before me looked nothing like the girl I had left less than an hour before.

  Kathrin had made an incredible transformation, no longer looking like some militant hipster. She had donned her business suit, put her long, blonde hair into a very precise bun, and her face was made up to look so professional that I could have mistaken her for a lawyer.

  I whistled. “Now that is a disguise,” I said, letting my surprise show in my voice.

  “Vielendanke!” she said sincerely, a blush forming on her cheeks before dipping her shoulders back and forth in a flirty manner, modeling her look. She walked past me twice, spinning each time like a model on a catwalk.

  I handed her ID to her.

  “This still looks enough like you to be convincing,” I joked and then went into the bathroom to get dressed myself.

  I left the stubble on my face as she suggested but combed and gelled my hair. When I had finished dressing, I went in to see if she approved.

  She put her hand to her chin and shook her head. “More...more geek,” she said.

  She placed a pair of clear-lensed glasses on my face, pulled one corner of my shirttail out of my trousers, and then splattered a drop of gravy from our dinner on my shirt and took a step back.

  “Now you look the way all Germans think American techs look,” she said.

  I was about to protest, but I realized there was a reason for the stereotype.

  “Sit,” she said firmly as she pulled her makeup case from the shopping bag.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I need to cover the marks on your face,” she replied as she extracted an applicator.

  Right! The busted nose and the bruises.

  I nodded and let her do her work. Within moments, she had me looking close to normal.

  “Do I look pretty?” I asked with a mischievous grin.

  “If we get caught, you will be the most popular boy in prison,” she laughed.

  We ate and then gathered our belongings before heading out to hail a cab.

  “How is your German?” Kathrin asked in the taxi.

  “Ich habe keine Deutsche,” I replied, saying, very poorly, that “I have no German,” drawing an amused chuckle from the cab driver. An exaggeration, but functionally, I had no way of expressing complex concepts to a non-English speaker. “I speak Oktoberfest German. There’s no need for a deeper understanding of the language when you’re drunk for eight days.”

  “I’ll handle the introductions,” she said with a chuckle.

  We arrived at the hotel and went to the front desk. The woman behind the counter greeted us in German.

  Responding in German, Kathrin quickly explained who we were, produced a work order and showed the woman her ID. I followed her example and showed mine as well, pulling it awkwardly by the lanyard hanging around my neck.

  The woman asked me something in German, but Kathrin was quick to explain that I was an American, that I spoke no German, and that I was a specialist on loan to them from the New York office—I knew this last part only because she said “New York office” in a stream of otherwise-unintelligible German.

  “She says there were some strange problems that have been popping up recently,” Kathrin said to me. “And the guest-room door system is not allowing people into their rooms.”

  I nodded. “Show me where the server room is,” I replied. Kathrin translated, but the woman had already begun leading the way. She took us to the back to introduce us to the night manager, who quickly gave us access to the computer systems.

  Once we were alone, I slipped the flash drive containing Storc’s worm killer into the system and began to unpack the hardware I needed.

  “Can I help?” Kathrin asked.

  “Just keep them out of here until I finish,” I replied quietly.

  She exited the server room and struck up a conversation with the night manager.

  Once Storc’s script routine was complete and the worm had been eradicated, I started a download of the last three days of security videos. While they were spooling onto my phone, I built an encrypted tunnel between the security camera system and the firewall. It took me a bit longer than I had intended because all the files were in German, but the underlying system structure was familiar to me.

  When I was done, I isolated one IP address outside the firewall, tied a more powerful, narrowband, wireless router to it, and then tested the signal from my phone. I was not only able to access the video but was also able to remotely control the cameras. “Wunderbar,” I whispered.

  I then took the one camera facing the warehouses off the main security feed so it would only be viewable from the new Wi-Fi I’d set up.

  “All done!” I said, prompting Kathrin and the night manager to enter the server room.

  He asked something in German. Kathrin translated. “So what was the problem?” she asked as I began to pack up my tools.

  “There was a virus that made it through the firewall,” I explained. “It came in through one of the wireless cameras that had a flaw in the BIOS. I took it offline until it can be replaced.”

  Kathrin explained the problem to him. He looked totally confused—as expected.

  “Tell him we’ll special order a replacement unit,” I continued. “No charge to the hotel.”

  He looked relieved after Kathrin had explained it all to him.

  “Tank you, very much,” he replied with a thick accent, shaking my hand enthusiastically. “Tank you. Tank you.”

  Another happy customer, I thought.

  We said goodnight before heading on our way to our next stop—the shoe company.

  “That went well?” Kathrin asked as we climbed into the taxi.

  “Yeah,” I replied as I adjusted my fake glasses. “And they’ll have their camera back in a couple of days.”

  “What if the real security company comes out?” Kathrin asked.

  “They never got the call,” I replied. “And Storc already added a log entry to their sales computer. Complementary emergency service with a discount to the hotel on next month’s bill for their trouble.”

  Kathrin looked at me with a shocked smile.

  I shrugged. “It was their security system. If it hadn’t been so easy to hack, none of this would have happened,” I said with a grin, defending Storc’s little jab at the security company.

  Kathrin laughed.

  The taxi dropped us at the entrance to the shoe facility. We showed our credentials at the gate before we were escorted to the manager’s office by the security guard. We repeated the performance from the hotel—first extracting Storc’s worm from the system and then tapping the two cameras facing the warehouses where the phone signal was coming from.

  Kathrin gave him the same explanation as we did at the hotel, but he didn’t seem to be as enthusiastic as the hotel night manager had been, saying something quite cross.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  “He isn’t happy that he will be without two cameras. He wants an assurance it will be back up and running,” she replied.

  “Tell him that if the new cameras aren’t installed within two days that I will personally come back out and replace them with a better model from our stock.” I said.

  She relayed the message, and that seemed to pacify him, so we turned in our visitor badges and left the building.

  In fact, the cameras would go back to working in two days on their own. I set a timed routine to undo all the code I had programmed. In two days, their system would work better than it had before.

  The cab that Kathrin h
ad called from inside was waiting for us when we exited. We got in and asked to be taken to the university. After being delivered, we walked the remaining two blocks to our hotel.

  “Even with the gravy on your shirt, the desk clerk at the hotel was drooling when she saw you. Especially when I told her you were American,” Kathrin teased on the walk back.

  “That’s okay,” I replied. “I think the night manager at the shoe factory had his eye on you.”

  The joke didn’t go over well, judging by the face she made and the simulated shiver. “No thanks.”

  As soon as we were back in the hotel room, Kathrin disappeared into the bathroom to change while I was reviewing the video footage from the previous three days, starting from the time of the explosion. I zipped through the hotel video loop at high-speed and discovered only one truck pulling into the far warehouse and none pulling into or out of the other. The only other traffic was an SUV that pulled up to the front of the warehouse, was unloaded, and then departed. That action had occurred twice in the last two days.

  I backed the video up to the point the truck went in. The time stamp on the video said it pulled in at 6:23 p.m. on Monday. It was a box truck with canvas covering the back, just as Elvis had described. Kathrin reemerged from the bathroom back in her canvas trousers and boots, but she had kept her hair up in the bun. The makeup was gone.

  “Can you see them?” she asked.

  “This is just the video playback from the footage I downloaded,” I explained. “We’ll have to be much closer to get the live feed.”

  I pulled my iPad out of its protective pouch and powered it up. It had been charging all evening, so I was sure I’d have enough battery to last me the night. Beyond that, I’d have to wing it.

  At around 10:30 p.m., we set out on foot down the streets to the Rheinturm, and then back down the foot path to the park across the water from the hotel. It was about a thousand feet across the water to the hotel and about another two hundred to the transmitter I’d set up. It would be no trouble getting signal from the hotel camera.

  I used the remote function to center the camera on the warehouse across the water and then zoomed in to the max. I switched the signal to infrared and began watching the feed. Kathrin watched my screen for a moment before she leaned forward, peering into the darkness across the water.

  “You can get some sleep if you want,” I said. “It may be a while before I find anything.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “I’ll wake you if anything interesting happens.”

  Without hesitation, she tightened her jacket around her, pulled her feet up on the bench, and then leaned against my shoulder.

  After a moment of scrunching down into her imaginary nest, I felt her head move against my shoulder. “Are you afraid for her?” she asked quietly.

  “I am. But I’m trying not to think about it,” I replied. “There’s nothing I can do until I can safely get in.”

  “Are you afraid for us?” she asked more quietly after a rather long pause.

  “I’m trying not to think about that, either,” I said without looking away from my screen.

  She turned her head down into her jacket and drifted off to sleep. I wished it were that easy for me. Kathrin had been invaluable to me, but the next step was something I had to do alone. I couldn’t ask her to risk herself for me or Barb.

  nine

  Two Days Until Event

  12:01 a.m. on Friday, May 14th, 2010—Dusseldorf, Germany

  I studied the video feed for a while and discovered a man on a loading dock smoking a cigarette. When he opened the door to go in, another came out to replace him. The images were faint through the open side door, but I could make out several figures in the distance sitting on the floor, back to back, while others appeared to be sitting against the far wall.

  There was little light coming from inside the warehouse, and when the door closed again, there was none. The windows near the roof line must have been painted over because there was no light escaping from them, either.

  There was no other activity for several hours. Around 2:30 a.m., Kathrin stirred and then sat up.

  “Would you like a break?” she asked, sleep in her voice still. “I can watch the video and let you know if anything happens.”

  I had watched the video feed for more than three hours and had seen little in the way of outside activity. So far I had no idea what I was up against except for an outside guard during night hours.

  “Think you can manage on your own for a bit?” I asked. “I want to take a closer look.”

  She nodded.

  “Keep an eye on the water side of the warehouse,” I added. “I’m going to try to get close enough to see inside.”

  I put my phone on vibrate and pulled out the prepaid phone we had picked up during our shopping trip, punching my number into it before handing it to her. “Text me if it looks like something is happening.”

  “Be careful,” she said.

  I headed down the path and then across the bridge. After a few minutes, I reached the scrapyard we had seen earlier before crossing over to the road on the other side. I walked right up to the fence that surrounded the two warehouses.

  Following the fence down to the water’s edge, I paused and listened for any movement before climbing over the bulkhead and then down onto the heavy rubble piled against the bulkhead wall. I was able to move along the edge of the water without having to stoop down as the bulkhead was nearly as tall as I was. The concealment gave me complete privacy and the luxury of time to pick my steps carefully as I stepped from rock to rock, traversing toward the warehouse.

  I walked alongside the bulkhead for about a hundred feet before I popped my head over the edge to sneak a peek. I saw no sign of movement from the warehouse—that worried me. The guard had been sitting there before I departed, leaving me concerned that he was now on patrol. It wouldn’t bode well if I climbed back up just as he was coming around the building.

  Just then my phone vibrated, sending a jolt of panic through my body. I fumbled to get the noisy alarm before it could sound again, being quite loud in the dead of night. I popped open the message from Kathrin: “Man on dock went inside. You are clear right now.”

  Whew! I sent her a quick message: “That was LOUD on vibrate. Only send in emergency.”

  I waited a few seconds to make sure there was no reply. There wasn’t, so I turned before continuing on and waved at the security camera, knowing she could see me through my iPad.

  After I poked my head over the edge again, checking for any sign that the noise had been heard, I pulled myself up and over the bulkhead. The action tugged at my injuries, but I pushed past the discomfort as I rolled onto the grass at the edge of the water. It was clear ground between me and the loading dock. Nervous about the exposure, I crossed as quickly as I could without making any noise.

  When I reached the loading dock, I found that most of it was solid concrete, but closer to the end, it was a raised wooden platform. I ‘duck walked’ down to that end and then crawled in under the decking, moving as far as I could to the back wall to listen for any sound on the other side.

  I heard voices arguing inside...in broken English. I wondered why they were speaking in English until I remembered that it was a mix of Russians and Bosnian Serbs who had taken the hostages. Some of the men may not know the language of the others, and English was a pretty universal language for communicating with other Europeans.

  “We are goin’ to be caught!” I heard someone say.

  “You will do as told and shut your mouth,” came the angry reply.

  It sounded as if there was a scuffle. I pushed away from the wall and then slowly worked my way around to the backside of the warehouse.

  My heart was beating loudly in my ears as I slipped around the corner and then peered back to make sure I hadn’t been detected. There, near the corner, was a piece of metal siding that had been curled outward a few inches at the base; the indentation of
a fork from a forklift creased outward from inside of the warehouse like a foot in a boot. Some clumsy forklift operator had punched through at some point in the past, making the hole a probable, and tempting entry for rodents of all sorts.

  I lowered myself onto my belly and inched toward the hole. When I found that I was holding my breath, I looked inside, and in the dim light could see several people sitting against a wall at the far end. My breathing suddenly sounded very loud—so I held it again. I scanned the group the best I could from my limited perspective, but I could not see Barb from where I was.

  Inside, I heard more arguing, with multiple voices joining in the heated conversation that sounded almost as if it would lead to blows. Much of it was in a language I didn’t recognize, but I decided to take advantage of the distraction to move again.

  As I was pulling away from the hole, I caught the English word “monkey” in one exchange.

  Majmun, I thought. Your absence appears to be perturbing them.

  I quickly pulled myself back to my feet and then walked down a little farther, turning the next corner to put me on the path side of the warehouse.

  There I found a treat; next to the electrical box mounted on this side of the building, was a hole where an electrical conduit went inside. The caulk around the hole had dried and was peeling, so I grabbed an edge and pulled a chunk away, opening a rather sizable peephole in the metal wall.

  It was a narrower view than the other opening had provided, but I was closer to the people inside than I had been before.

  My heart jumped as soon as I spotted her. Barb! I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from yelling her name. She was leaning against her father with her head on his shoulder and her eyes closed. It was all I could do to keep from rushing in and scooping her up in my arms.

  My heart was beating so quickly that I had to pull back from the crack and take a couple of deep breaths to calm my heart rate. It took a few moments.

  Don’t get caught. Don’t get caught. Don’t get caught. I repeated the words in my head as if the mantra alone would make it so.

  Damn it, Scott, calm the fuck down.