London Calling, page 4
part #1 of Beta Force Series
The man could only protest with spittle bubbling out from between his lips as he desperately gasped for air.
"You're going to take a nap now, Merl. Just let the darkness come. You'll wake in a bit."
Jordan could feel the man relaxing in his arms, not because of his words but because he knew Merl's brain was demanding oxygen that wasn't coming. When the body went limp and became a dead weight, Jordan let him collapse to the floor in a heap.
He stood and dusted off his jacket, concerned he may have gotten something on it. Happy to see it was clean, he immediately made for the front door.
Jordan Bradley paid no attention to the gawking patrons as they stared after him, this man who dared to take on one of the local crime bosses.
Once he was out on the sidewalk again, he turned to the right and disappeared into the crowd—a ghost leaving nothing but a legendary story behind.
He had a job to do. Bring in this Philipe Gaston before he left the country—if he hadn't already. He wished he knew more about why his employer wanted this low-level hacker, but he figured the only chance he'd have of getting that information was to bring the guy in.
And that's exactly what Jordan would do.
5
London
"Daughter?" Zeke asked. He cast a wayward glance at his partner, who returned the baffled expression.
Philipe looked up from the table. "I need to know my daughter will be kept safe. If they get their hands on her..." His voice faded, still leaving the interrogators with more questions than answers.
"Who will get their hands on her, Philipe?"
His eyes flitted to the camera in the corner. The red light blinked monotonously.
Phoenix saw the look. "You don't have to worry about them," he reassured. "We're controlling the feed."
A sudden look of panic flashed across the prisoner's face. "What? Are you with them?"
"With who?" Zeke pressed.
Philipe offered a sardonic grin in reply. "You know who. You are with them. I knew it. I knew they'd track me down."
"Listen, Bro," Zeke snapped, "we don't know what you're talking about. Okay? But we only have a few more minutes before we have to switch the cameras back on. You need to start talking, and fast. Who was chasing you? Why were you running in the first place?"
Philipe searched Zeke's eyes for the truth, or maybe he was searching for a lie. If he was, there wasn't one to be found. He looked at Phoenix for a moment. The other American gave a sympathetic nod.
"Look, Philipe, we don't know much about you. From what we can tell, you seem like a pretty nice guy. Mischievous but not evil. If you want us to help you, you need to level with us. Give us something."
The prisoner's eyes darted back and forth between the two men. Something in their expressions softened his paranoid look.
"My daughter," he said again. "I need to know she'll be kept safe."
Zeke let out a sigh. A look from Phoenix told him his partner didn't know if that was something they could do or not.
"Where is she?" Zeke asked.
Philipe stared into his eyes as if searching Zeke's soul to ensure he wasn't prying him for the information for devious reasons.
"Look, man. We don't have much time," Phoenix said, exasperated. "We can only keep the cameras down another few minutes. We'll do what we can to protect your daughter. But we can't help you or her if you don't help us. Who was chasing you? What did they want?"
"Why were you following me?" Philipe asked.
The two agents looked at each other. Zeke answered first. "We had a tip you were the one who sent out a virus that locked down every major bank's computer systems in the UK for twenty minutes last week. Took us a while to track you down."
"I like to keep a low profile."
"I'm sure, but that virus could have wrecked international economies all over the world, including this one. And for what, some laughs?"
Philipe giggled, recalling what he'd seen when the virus essentially shut down hundreds of millions in transactions within just a few short minutes. "It is pretty funny when you think about it."
Phoenix's face flushed. It wasn't a reaction his partner was accustomed to seeing. Typically, Phoenix was calm and slow to anger. Apparently, the hacker's nonchalant attitude about the financial upheaval that occurred, and could have been much worse, was unacceptable.
"It's not funny, Philipe. It affected millions of people. This is more than just some kind of Robin Hood hack job where someone takes money from the rich and gives it to the poor. And even that isn't right. Most wealthy people I know got there by taking risks, working long hours. So, if that's why you did it—to punish the wealthy—then you're wrong. And that doesn't even bring into account the ordinary people you screwed over."
Philipe's face turned somber and he nodded. "I guess I never really thought about it like that before. I was just thinking about the screen image that appeared on infected devices and machines. You know, the one with the safe with a crack through it?"
"Yes, we both know about the virus," Zeke said. "That doesn't help your daughter, and it doesn't tell us why you did it or why someone was after you."
Philipe nodded and slumped a little into his chair. His eyes passed from one inquisitor to the other. "I didn't create the bank virus. That was someone else. I was actually one of those ordinary people," he raised his hands and used air quotes for the last two words, "who were affected by it. Luckily, I have several accounts, and usually my money bounces around in a sequence that only I know."
"Bounces around?"
"I shift it from one country to another, keep it on the move at all times. It only freezes when I tell it to, like when I need to make a transaction."
"I guess it must be annoying to keep changing your Netflix password," Zeke quipped. He chuckled at his own joke, but the other two simply looked over at him with disdain. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Right. Sorry. Continue."
"I don't know who created the bank virus," Philipe said, "but I have a few theories. As to the man who was chasing me, I don't know who he is, but I know what he wants, or rather, what his employer wants."
"Employer?"
"Before you ask, I don't know who he is, either. I don't even know what he is."
The two agents exchanged a befuddled glance.
"Oh, that has your attention?" Philipe asked incredulously. "Well, whoever or whatever he is, he's bad. Very bad."
"What do you mean?" Phoenix asked.
Philipe leaned back and took in a deep breath then exhaled slowly. "What would you think of someone with no past, no family, no friends, no attachments, and no name?"
Phoenix considered the question for a moment and tried to apply the context of their current situation. "I'd say that person was either a ghost, doesn't exist, or is trying really hard to hide something…or everything."
"Precisely," Philipe concurred.
"And the person who was after you?"
"I received a message a few weeks ago from a man calling himself Perses."
Zeke couldn't help the snort that escaped through his nose. "What? Did you just say Perses?"
"Yes. To be honest, I thought it was pretty funny, too…until I saw what he wanted."
"What did he want?"
"My daughter."
"He wanted your daughter? Why?"
"No," the prisoner rubbed his face. "I need to make sure she's safe. Promise me you'll keep her safe."
"Okay, you're jumping around just a tad here," Zeke countered. "Yes. We'll help your daughter."
"Not help. Secure. I need to make certain she's in a safe place. Do that, and I will tell you everything you need to know."
Zeke and Phoenix both knew that was a guarantee they couldn't make. But they had little choice.
"We will do everything, and I mean everything, in our power to protect her, Philipe. But you have to give us something. They're going to pin the bank virus on you. And we are running out of time."
Philipe seemed to ponder the answer before he responded. "I didn't make the bank virus. I already told you that. But I may be able to help you figure out who did."
Another glance passed between the two partners.
"Who?"
"The same man who tried to hire me." Philipe leaned closer, folding his hands on the table. When he spoke, his voice remained but a whisper. "Perses was the one behind the bank virus. He wanted me to create a virus that would disrupt commerce, finance, all of that stuff. Said he only needed things to be down for an hour. I guess whoever he got to handle it could only pull off a few minutes." He let out a scoffing guffaw.
"It was enough to do some serious damage," Phoenix said, his tone still stern.
"I'm sure it was."
"Who was the hacker?"
"I don't know, but I can find out. You'll have to get me out of here, though, and I have the feeling that you two don't have that kind of pull."
Zeke lowered his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?"
"If you did, you wouldn't be blocking the video feed. And you wouldn't be concerned about a time limit in here. I'd say you're probably using someone, a connection, a friend maybe, to hold off the feed before anyone gets suspicious. I wonder, do you two even have clearance to be here? Are you real cops?"
"We're not cops," Zeke said. "We're with the GIC."
Concern cascaded down the prisoner's face. "GIC? I…thought that organization was just an urban legend, a fiction."
"No. We're real. And we're really out of time. Give us a name. We can't get you out of here yet, but we will do what we can to bring the real hacker in. You'll be safe here. And we'll take care of your daughter..." He let his words linger.
"Theresa," Philipe said. "Her name is Theresa. And I won't be safe here. This man who calls himself Perses won't stop until I'm dead. I know too much. He tried to get me before, but you two stepped in. I'm sure the man he had following me is already dead. You won't have to wait long to hear about that, unless the body is somewhere out in the Atlantic. The only way I survive is if you get me out of here."
"We'll do what we can, but we need the name of any of your contacts who can help us track down the man you say did the bank job."
Philipe bit his lower lip as he considered the request. He knew the only chance he had to keep his daughter safe was to trust these two, though the vibe he was getting from them didn't seem exactly…competent.
"The hacker's alias was Katros. He doesn't exactly keep a low profile in the hacker community. You dig around a little; you should be able to find him."
"What about Perses? Is there anything else you can tell us about him?" Phoenix pushed.
"I've told you all I know," Philipe said frankly. "The guy is a ghost. No one knows who he is. I even asked a few people, though to be fair I tend not to associate with others. I prefer to keep to myself."
"So, this virus, Katros couldn't make it do what this Perses fellow wanted it to do. Sounds like that could be bad for Katros, based on what you've told us."
"That's not all," Philipe said. He paused for effect and to make sure his interrogators were paying close attention. "After Perses contacted me, I started snooping around. When I didn't find anything on him, I watched and waited. The virus struck and disrupted financial transactions for exactly four minutes. I can't track all of them, but from what I heard, not a single bank account was missing any money."
"Wait a second," Phoenix interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are you telling us that no one stole a single cent from any accounts? Why else would someone want to cause that kind of chaos if it wasn't a heist?"
"I get the impression this man doesn't need money," Philipe answered. "Though I have no idea why he would want to break the banking system. Perhaps he is an anarchist or one of those activists who wants to reset everything."
"In my experience, wealthy and powerful people don't desire such things," Zeke said.
"Then I'm sorry; I don't have an answer for you on his motives."
Phoenix fell into a deep, pensive silence as he ran through the scenarios of what the prisoner had discussed and what it could all mean. No answers emerged from the fog in his brain, but another question bubbled to the top.
"You said this guy—Perses—wanted you to fix the virus that the other hacker—Katros—couldn't make work like he wanted."
"Correct."
"So, could you do it?"
Philipe lowered his gaze at Phoenix, peering at him from behind the tops of his eyelids. "I did it."
Phoenix's eyebrows lowered in disbelief. "What do you mean, you did it?"
"I created the code that would enable the shutdown to last longer."
"Like, what," Zeke chimed in, "an hour?"
"Indefinitely." A dramatic silence filled the room for a moment. "I designed it so it could be switched off whenever the user decided to. That's why Perses approached me. He knew I could do it."
"But you turned him down."
"I'm not a terrorist," Philipe said in a candid tone. "I don't want to cause global chaos or even local problems. This man, Perses, I believe that's what he's trying to do."
"Why? Why would someone, especially someone with money and power, want to break down a system he seems to be thriving in?"
"I can't answer that. Believe me; I've wondered the same thing many times. Clearly, this man has some sort of vendetta against someone, maybe the world, I don't know, but it would be suicide for his own finances if he were to use that code."
"I'm sorry," Phoenix said. "If you did not intend to use the virus the way he intended, why did you adjust it in the first place? If he were to get hold of your corrected one, that could be catastrophic."
"Why do people climb Mount Everest? Hmm? Because it's there."
His matter-of-fact answer did little to satisfy Phoenix's query, but he could see the man was satisfied with the response he'd given.
"Where is it now?"
"In a file on my computer. It's protected by a highly encrypted passcode. Two wrong attempts, and the virus will destroy itself."
"But why keep it?" Zeke asked. "In the wrong hands, like Phoenix said, it could be devastating."
Before the prisoner could answer, the lights flickered overhead, and darkness consumed the room.
"Phoenix?" Zeke said.
"Yeah?"
"What's going on?"
"Blackout? Emergency backup generators should kick in soon."
"There won't be any generators," Philipe said, his voice cutting eerily through the darkness. "He's here."
6
London
Panicked voices echoed from the hallway outside. Zeke and Phoenix hurriedly retrieved the phones from their pockets and turned on the flashlights. The miniature LEDs provided more than enough light in the room, but they didn't help the overall situation.
"Who's here?" Zeke asked.
"Could be anyone. Might be someone working for Interpol, a cop, or some other hit man. You won't have to wait long to find out."
Phoenix looked to his partner. "We have to get him out of here."
Zeke nodded and shifted to the door. He banged on it twice. There was no answer. He hit the metal again, harder this time. The latch turned, and he saw a familiar face standing in the corridor with a phone in his hand, light shining brightly into the doorway.
"What's going on?" Zeke asked.
"No clue," the guard said. "Power is down and so are the generators."
"We need to get him out of here," Zeke said. "My partner and I will get him to a secure location."
The man standing in the hallway narrowed his eyes at the request, but Zeke could see he was considering it.
"You've seen my credentials," Zeke pressed. "He's not getting away from us. We're experts."
Roger looked skeptical but finally relented as two more people rushed by. His radio sparked to life with the sounds of loud pops and screaming voices.
Zeke didn't catch all of it, but he understood enough: shots fired, guards down, send backup.
The guard swore under his breath and handed the keys to Zeke. "Get him out of here. Don't lose those keys."
"I won't."
The cop took off down the corridor and disappeared around the corner into the darkness.
Zeke spun around and tossed the keys across the room to his friend. "Get him out of those things," he ordered.
Phoenix snatched the keys out of the air and went to work on the cuffs.
"You don't understand," Philipe said, a sadness in his voice. "I'm already dead."
"Not yet, you're not. How about a little positivity," Phoenix insisted.
"He's actually probably right, though," Zeke chirped. "I mean, we had to check our weapons at the front desk. We're unarmed, so not sure how we will manage in a gunfight."
"We skip the gunfight," Phoenix answered.
"Yeah, okay. You know another way out of this place?"
"There's always another way." Phoenix finished unlocking the cuffs, and the prisoner wrung his hands for a moment to get the circulation going again.
"This hall goes in two directions," Zeke said. The comment was frosted in snark.
"Yeah, so we head away from the sounds of gunfire and screaming."
"Are you two sure you're GIC agents?" Philipe asked, panic evident on his face.
"Shut up," Zeke snapped. "We can't go headlong into a firefight without weapons. Unless you have a death wish."
"To the right, then," Phoenix stated and stepped into the doorway, holding his phone out in front of him to light the way. He checked both directions and then looked over his shoulder into the interrogation room. "Clear. Let's move."
The three men stepped into the dark hallway. Sounds of chaos reverberated through the corridor. The gunfire grew louder as the telltale pops increased in frequency and decibels.
"Need to hurry," Phoenix said.
The three rushed down the hall and then turned to the right. The hallway went straight for another forty feet before it turned to the left. More guards rushed past the three men. Two more in suits ran by, as well, just as the three escapees reached the next turn. Three pops abruptly rang out, and Zeke spun around to find each of the guards had been dropped. Two of them writhed on the floor with blood leaking from their torsos. One had a bullet wound to the shoulder, the thick claret soaking his black suit jacket.
