Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
“So, we’ve got a 9-1-1 system overwhelmed from a VoIP network hack, the traffic signals are being messed with in most major cities causing gridlock, and now the railroad gates are all stuck in the up position, wherever they’re centrally controlled.”
Chris Leroux listened to Director Morrison’s summary as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He hadn’t slept since Sherrie had been kidnapped yesterday, the trail cold. They had no idea where she or Fang were, and there had been no word from the Assembly on what was needed to get them back. It was frustrating.
And terrifying.
He sighed, saying nothing.
“Chris?”
He looked up. “Huh?” He realized he had nodded off for a split second. “Oh God, sorry, sir. I haven’t had any sleep and, well, you know how Sherrie feels about energy drinks.”
Morrison chuckled. “I’m not one to interfere with a man’s love life, so I suggest you get some sleep before you start making mistakes.”
“Yes, sir.” Leroux straightened in his chair, remembering what Morrison had said. “With respect to what you said, you’re right. Those are the hacks we know of. Who knows what others are happening that we don’t know about yet?”
Morrison stood, pacing back and forth in the operations center as he squeezed his chin. “And no claims of responsibility yet.”
“No, which suggests they’re not done.”
“Anything we can do to stop them?”
Leroux frowned. “Find them, that’s about it.”
Morrison paused. “Are we safe?”
Leroux nodded. “Our systems are protected and isolated. We’re mostly Intranet-based as opposed to Internet-based.”
Morrison gave him a look. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means we’re wired internally, with no links to the outside. Our systems that are connected, are isolated from the internal network. There’s no way anyone can hack us.”
“Unless they do it from the inside,” said Randy Child.
Leroux nodded. “True.”
“But even then, they’d still be stuck on the internal network, wouldn’t they?”
Leroux shook his head. “Not necessarily. If we actually had a mole, and they were skilled enough, they could tap our network internally with a transmitter that would allow communication with the outside world. We’ve got all kinds of sensors to detect that type of stuff, but just like we can hack pretty much anyone in the world, we have to assume someone out there can hack us.”
Morrison frowned. “Not very comforting.” He motioned toward the displays, several news feeds showing the chaos in the cities, and the aftermath of several railroad incidents. “If these are all related, which we have to assume they are, what the hell’s their endgame? What do they hope to possibly achieve by messing with traffic lights and the 9-1-1 system?”
Leroux shrugged. “No idea. This is big. A lot of resources are going into this, and this is a significant, coordinated undertaking.”
“So government?”
Leroux nodded. “It’s definitely not Anonymous or some other White Hat hacker group trying to send a message, even a Black Hat group can’t pull something like this off. To hit every major city in America takes money and resources.”
“So definitely a foreign power.”
“Or the Assembly.”
Morrison sucked in a deep breath. “Are they capable of something like this?”
Leroux chewed his cheek a moment then let out a loud sigh. “I don’t know. They would definitely have the funding for it, and if they’ve been around for as long as we think they have, they could have people on their payroll everywhere. We already know the former Secretary of Defense was compromised. And BlackTide had thousands of personnel before it was shut down. I think this is them, and they’ve taken Sherrie and Fang to try and keep us from looking too hard.”
Child spun in his chair. “Well, we’re not going to let that stop us, right?”
Leroux tensed, but he nodded. “Right. The best way to save them is to figure out what’s going on and stop it.”
The door to the operations center burst open and Morrison’s aide rushed in. “Sir, there’s a situation!”
Morrison stood, the aide whispering something in his ear. His eyebrows jumped. “Are you sure?”
A quick nod.
“We’ll be right there.” He turned to Leroux. “You’ll never guess who just cleared the front gates.”
Nadja Katz drove through the outer gates of Langley with ease, the forged ID a leftover from her previous life, created several years ago by an Assembly mole within the CIA. As far as the Agency knew, she was an employee named Catherine Ingels. Fortunately, the Assembly hadn’t canceled the ID, probably because doing so might bring attention to the dozens of others created by the same person over the years. Her pass would be allowed to expire, and no one would be the wiser.
Fortunately for her, that wasn’t for another six months.
She parked in the employee garage and tucked the rental’s car keys behind the rear tire, brushing off an imaginary scuff from her black leather pants. She strode confidently toward the employee entrance, mingling with the others, getting some looks, no one saying what they must be thinking—that she was an operator.
Staff didn’t dress like she did, nor typically looked like she did.
She had long ago learned that her body had an effect on men and women alike, and used that to her advantage. She dressed the part, sexy, sensual, dangerously seductive, enough to throw most men off to the point they couldn’t properly concentrate, leaving them easily manipulated, and to make enough women self-conscious about their own inadequacies, that they wanted her out of their presence quickly, especially if their sexual partner was with them.
It was something she would never completely understand.
She had sex, the act somewhat enjoyable for her, at least physically. The mental aspect was never really there, just a dull sensation in the background. It made truly satisfying sex difficult, that easier to achieve on her own than with a partner. For her, sex with a partner usually needed pain, her own pain, to trigger a genuinely physical and mental response that was completely orgasmic. A tingling sensation rushed through her body.
Curious.
The thought of being punished actually excited her. She’d experiment with that when this was all over. When that would be, she wasn’t sure. She was taking a gamble. What could be the ultimate gamble. She had Sherrie White and a severely wounded Lee Fang in her custody, safely ensconced in a facility the government had no idea existed.
If she wasn’t freed, they’d never be found, but just in case, she had set a little surprise for the ladies in the event she didn’t return within 24 hours of their initial incarceration. The CIA might shoot her on sight, though she doubted it. They would more likely interrogate her, which would be a waste of time.
She wasn’t here to help them.
She was here to help herself.
That meant certain information would be imparted, and then they would have a choice. Help her, and save their people, or not help her, and either let her go, or hold her. Either of those latter options meant her prisoners died. She was curious to see what their choice would be, though only one of those outcomes was the preferred one.
And to ensure it, she could talk to only one person.
She walked up to the security desk with a seductive smile.
The guard adjusted his tie. “Yes, ma’am, may I help you?”
“Yes, you can. Contact Director Morrison and tell him you have a walk-in. I want to speak to Special Agent Dylan Kane at once.”