Mark Alpert: Extinction

Yin was in his early forties, maybe five years younger than Jim. He was handsome and in great shape and had a Midwestern accent. One of the bright young stars of the modern army, Jim thought. But he still couldn’t figure out why the guy was here.

“Pleased to meet you,” Jim said, shaking the man’s hand with his prosthesis. He still wore the Terminator arm, and the right sleeve was still rolled up, exposing all the electronics. But General Yin didn’t seem fazed.

“I apologize for coming here without calling first,” he said. “This is a delicate matter, so I thought it would be best to talk face-to-face. Can I come in?”

Jim considered the possibilities. Cyber Command was always on the lookout for breaches in military security. Especially breaches perpetrated by unhappy soldiers. Maybe General Yin was snooping for information on one of Jim’s customers at Walter Reed. In which case, Jim had to be very careful. “I’m sorry, General, but can you give me some idea what this is about?”

Yin nodded. “It’s about your daughter. I’m afraid she’s in a great deal of trouble.”

They went downstairs to the basement workshop. General Yin sat down at the square table while Jim perched on one of the stools, too anxious to sit still. Both his hands trembled. Because his prosthesis was connected to his nervous system, it was equally subject to the jitters.

“I don’t normally do this,” Yin started. “We usually rely on the FBI to track down the people we’re looking for. But when I saw your daughter’s name on the list of cases, I decided to get involved. I work closely with the officials at NSA, and they remember you well over there. I’ve heard great things about the work you did in Africa in the nineties.”

“I appreciate your help, General. So what did Layla do?”

Yin frowned. “The question is, what hasn’t she done? Over the past year hackers have compromised the Pentagon’s networks a dozen times, and your daughter appears to be involved in nearly every incident.”

Shit. Jim had been afraid of this. He’d warned Layla two years ago, but of course she hadn’t listened. She was a computer prodigy, brilliant but reckless. She’d started writing her own software at the age of twelve, and by her sixteenth birthday she was hacking into her high school’s network and downloading her teachers’ personnel files. All of Jim’s lectures and punishments had no effect whatsoever, but by the time she started college she seemed to be over the worst of it. She had a stellar freshman year at MIT, acing all her courses. But her grades slipped during her sophomore year, and then she announced she was dropping out. She said she was going to do volunteer work for InfoLeaks, the Web site infamous for publishing classified military documents. Jim was devastated. Of all the thousands of things Layla could’ve done with her life, she’d chosen the one that would hurt him the most.

He clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. “So you have evidence that she hacked into the networks?”

Yin nodded. “We traced the attacks to code names and IP addresses she’s used in the past. We compiled all the evidence and handed it off to the FBI, and they’ve already issued a warrant for her arrest. They’ve narrowed her whereabouts to the New York City area and begun searching for her there.”

Jim turned away from Yin so the general couldn’t see his face. This was his nightmare come true. “So why are you here?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “Just to give me a heads-up?”

“No, I want to help. The Pentagon recognizes the extraordinary sacrifices you’ve made, so my superiors have authorized me to make a proposal. If you contact your daughter and convince her to surrender, we’ll withdraw the most serious charge against her. She’ll still go to prison, but the sentence will be lighter. One or two years instead of five to ten.”

Jim shook his head. He and his daughter had once been inseparable. She was only seven when her mother and brother died, and in the years afterward Jim had devoted his life to her. He’d showered her with love and attention, maybe too much. But now he couldn’t do anything for her. Not even the simplest thing. “I can’t contact her,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to reach her.”

Yin looked askance. “You don’t have a phone number?”

He shook his head again. “She thought if she gave me her number, I’d use it to track her down.”

“What about friends, acquaintances? Is there anyone she keeps in touch with?”

“No, she cut off everyone. Layla’s a determined girl. When she does something, she does it thoroughly.”

“Well, when was the last time you spoke with her?”

“About a year ago. She called me from a blocked number. The conversation didn’t go well.”

“What did you discuss?”

Jim stared at the general. He wanted to say, None of your fucking business, but he thought better of it. “I’d rather not go into the details.”

Yin pressed his lips together. He looked displeased. “Your daughter’s hacking efforts were focused on Defense Department networks that hold information about our remote surveillance programs. She was apparently seeking documents on the unmanned drones operating in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Did she ever discuss this topic with you?”

What the hell’s going on? It sounded like Yin was seeking more evidence against Layla rather than trying to make things easier for her. “First of all, we never discussed anything like that. And second, why are you bringing this up?”

“She also seems very interested in China. We believe she’s been investigating the recent arrests of several Chinese dissidents involved in the pro-democracy movement. Did she ever talk about that?”

Jim pushed back his chair and stood up. He was cutting the visit short. He didn’t trust this guy. “Look, I can’t help you. You better go.”

Yin stood up, too. “You’re being evasive, Colonel Pierce. But I’m not surprised. I had a feeling you’d make this difficult.” Moving swiftly, he reached into the jacket of his uniform and pulled out a pistol, a 9mm semiautomatic with a silencer attached to its muzzle. Then, before Jim could brace himself, Yin pointed the gun and fired.

Jim felt the shock of the impact. It spun him clockwise, but he managed to stay on his feet. He waited for the burst of pain, but he felt nothing. His right arm had gone numb. Yin had shot him in the prosthesis, just above the elbow. The bullet had severed the wires in the Terminator arm, which hung limply from his shoulder.

The man grinned, clearly pleased with his marksmanship. “Sorry, but I’m not taking any chances. I heard you put weapons in those arms of yours.”

Jim slowed his breathing and focused on Yin. The man obviously wasn’t a brigadier general. He wasn’t American either. He’d discarded the Midwestern accent and now he was stretching out his r ’s—hearrrrd, yourrrs—in a way that sounded familiar.

“Who the hell are you?” Jim asked.

“Before we talk, you’re going to take the arm off. I still don’t like it.”

“I can’t take it off. You busted it.”

“You’re lying. If you don’t take it off in the next ten seconds I’ll shoot your left arm in the same place.” Yin shifted his aim, moving the muzzle to the left. “As you may have noticed, I’m an excellent shot.”

Reluctantly Jim detached the prosthesis. He considered throwing it at the guy, but Yin was too quick. Keeping his gun aimed at Jim’s chest, he backed up to the section of the workbench that held the stacks of circuit boards and the vise. “Now drop the arm and walk toward the bench. Very slowly.”