Mark Pryor - Cyberian Affair

“This was a two-person operation.” Niko stood and paced across the room. “Without Vyper, the plan won’t work.”

“We didn’t want her to come to Nassau with you. We only agreed because she insisted. When she’s feeling better, she can assist you from her hospital bed.”

The door opened and a tall woman in a business suit entered the waiting room. “Mister Martin?”

Niko held the phone away from his mouth. “That’s me.”

“You can see your wife now.” She waved her arm at the open door.

He nodded and spoke to Smith. “Gotta go. Talk to you later.” He followed the woman down the hall to one of the rooms.

Vyper lay in a large bed surrounded by equipment. Two computer screens beeped behind her, displaying wiggly lines. An IV bag with dark red liquid hung from a hook.

He walked slowly to her side. A tube and several wires ran from the equipment to her bed, disappearing under her blanket. A purple bruise marred her beautiful face from her left eye to her chin. He stood there watching her breathe.

Vyper’s eyes blinked and opened. She turned her head, a weak smile on her lips. “Niko.” Her hand reached for him. “I knew you would find me.”

He took her hand and kissed it. “I was so worried. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” He brushed the hair from her face. “Are you in pain?”

She shook her head slowly. “The drugs must be working. I just feel tired.” She squeezed Niko’s hand. “You would have been proud of me. I defended myself… at least I tried.”

“I’m very proud of you. Sokolov won’t ever threaten us again.”

“Is he dead?”

Niko shook his head. “Not dead, but he’ll never leave the hospital.”

“I hope I can leave the hospital soon. Have they told you anything?”

Niko told her what the doctor said.

She nodded. “Sokolov had the knife, but I think the other man punched me—knocked me out cold.”

“The CIA plans to take good care of you. They’re flying you to Walter Reed. Your flight’s leaving at noon today…” Niko looked at his watch. “… in about nine hours.”

Vyper raised her index finger. “I cannot go. We have to stop Zatan. He knows who I am. He told Sokolov about me.”

“You have to go. They have the best doctors. Zatan can wait.”

Her hand began to flap. She closed her eyes and the hand stopped. “I will go.” She opened her eyes. “But you must stay. Help Smith. Find Zatan.”

Niko had no classes today, so he did online research in his Nassau apartment while waiting for Vyper to call. He marked the time watching the long shadows of the palm trees outside his window shrink slowly from the west before stretching east again.

The phone rang—a secure call. He answered it right away. “Vyper, how are you doing? How was the flight?”

The sound of her voice made him smile. “I miss you, Niko. I slept through the flight and slept even more in my room. Nurses pushed my bed to radiology for a CT scan. They seem to be satisfied with my operation in Nassau.”

“I miss you, too. They say sleep helps you heal.”

Vyper’s voice was weak. “I want to see what Zatan is up to, but I do not feel like concentrating. I saw some news reports, but I did not follow up. Did Homeland declare a higher threat level?”

“They did.” Niko selected the DHS web page on his laptop. “The alert is limited to oil and gas for now. No public mention of nuclear power plants, but I found suspicious Russian network traffic poking around the Calvert Cliffs site. It looks similar to the early phases of the Rockefeller Petroleum attack.”

“If Zatan’s folks follow the same plan as Rockefeller, you know how to stop them, but they might be going after other locations. You will have to expand your search.”

“I’ve already begun.” Niko retrieved the notes from his recent research. “I’ve also been going through engineering documents from the Coral datacenter and some of their clients. I’ve got a better picture of how everything works there. Of course, Zatan’s network, Blue Koala, has tighter security. I’m having trouble fleshing out more details, but I’m working on it.”

“Have you looked at the badge reader logs?”

“It’s interesting. Blue Koala personnel work day shift only. The students you identified—the ones in my class—work Thursday through Sunday. That makes sense since my class is Monday and Wednesday. I’ll see both of them tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I’ve done some research online—Facebook, Twitter, and others. I plan to make friends with those guys.”

“You are making wonderful progress. See, you do not need me.”

“You’ve taught me a lot, but I need you now more than ever. And not only because—”

An alert popped up on Niko’s laptop. “Holy shit! Something deadly serious is going on. Alerts have been sent to airmen stationed at two strategic bases, recalling all personnel to their duty stations immediately. One’s Whiteman in Missouri—that’s B-2 bombers. The other is Warren in Wyoming—that’s missiles. They could have sent out additional messages. I just don’t know.”

“Could this be related to the Homeland alert? Or maybe Calvert Cliffs?”

“I don’t think so. The worst-case scenario with a power plant would be a core meltdown. Something else is going on.” Niko checked a web site known for tracking US defense posture. “Our military never tells the public about DEFCON levels, but I think we may have gone to DEFCON 3. Those bombers—those missiles—they’re used for nuclear war.”

Bethesda, Maryland

Vyper felt sore this morning, but she didn’t ask the nurses for pain medication. She needed her mind sharp.

Niko’s words last night had scared her. DEFCON 3 . When she was younger, she had heard stories from people who lived through the Cuban missile crisis—their genuine fear of nuclear war. That was ancient history—now the world could be facing it again.

Mister Smith knocked at the open doorway and peered into the room. “Are you accepting visitors?”

“I have been waiting for you.” Vyper reached for the buttons that controlled her bed, raising her head a few inches. She looked around the room. “I presume it is safe for us to talk here.”

Smith nodded and held a laptop in his hand. “I brought your computer.”

Vyper took it and placed it low on her abdomen without opening it. “What is going on? Why are we at DEFCON 3?”

Raising an eyebrow, Smith responded, “Why do you say that?”

“You cannot mobilize troops at strategic air bases without the public noticing. What is going on? Are we having a nuclear standoff with Russia?”

“You know I can’t tell you anything—even if something’s going on.”

Vyper pursed her lips. “If Russia causes Calvert Cliffs to melt down, will the military respond with nuclear weapons?”

“I can answer that question. Our nuclear policy continues to be one of proportional response. That’s public knowledge.” Smith plugged the laptop’s power cord into the wall and handed the other end to Vyper. “Of course, the president can initiate the launch of these weapons whenever he feels justified.”

“Does the alert have anything to do with the software I wrote? The one with the KILROY message—or the weapon firmware?”

“I hate to sound like a broken record, but you’re not cleared to know what we used your software for.”

Vyper plugged the power cord into her laptop. “Just tell me I did not give you something to start a nuclear war.”

“Let’s change the subject.” Smith removed a cell phone from his pocket. “My team discovered this phone on Sokolov. We could use your help.”