“Stop trying. Every bit of code you throw at it is making it tighten down more instead of less. I can access it. Send it to me.”

“You do not know what is in this file. It could launch another virus, another attack.”

Nicholas said, his voice calm, “Lieutenant, it’s Gunther’s key file. Trust me. I know how he works. I know how to get into the drive, into the files, through the encryption, but I need it in front of me to do so. It’s too complex to walk you through over the phone. We’re losing time. Please, send it along now.”

Menard said, “I will take responsibility, Lieutenant, and FedPol will send the appropriate paperwork as soon as possible. Give him what he wants.”

“Yes, sir. I have sent it through our secure network. You will have it momentarily.”

Nicholas’s laptop dinged. “I have it now. Thank you. Please stay on the line for a moment in case this doesn’t work.”

Nicholas clicked on the file, put a fresh thumb drive in, and executed the commands. Everyone in the room watched as the code unspooled, the drive whirring. The screen went black, then began shattering incrementally, breaking in half, then into fourths, then eighths, then sixteenths, then suddenly spiraling into a 3-D cornucopia-shaped web of complex numbers and letters. It was incredible and baffling, and not for the first time, Mike regretted that her background was in psychology, not computer science.

“This blows my mind,” Martin said, and was there a bit of excitement in that calm voice?

Savich grinned. “Mine, too.”

“I’m in,” Nicholas said. “I’m past the firewall.”

The numbers swirled around, spinning so quickly Mike had no idea how he could follow them. Nicholas suddenly slapped the screen. “There you are, you little bugger.” He clicked his mouse and every screen in the room mimicked his.

He said, “Martin, this is the code we need to disrupt to stop the attack. Here’s the protocol that should take it down.”

Martin shouted, “People, go!”

The room began to hum. Nicholas leaned back in the chair and gave Mike a huge upside-down grin.

Savich slapped him on the back. “Good job, Nicholas, Martin, all of you. Let’s hope it works.”

Pierre shouted, “You have it, Nicholas?”

“Yes, we’ve nailed it. We have the code and we’re stopping the attack as we speak. Thank you, Pierre, thank you, Lieutenant, for all your help. Pierre, I’ll send the paperwork along as soon as I’m able.”

Menard gave a charming snort. “Paperwork, from you? I will believe it when I see it. There is still paperwork missing from the Koh-i-Noor case.”

“Not so loud, Pierre. Savich might hear you.”

Menard laugh. “Hello, Agent Savich. Good luck, Nicholas. Michaela, I hope we will see you again very soon. Au revoir.”

Nicholas stared at the screen in front of him. As his finger traced a length of code along the screen, he felt Mike’s hand on his shoulder, felt her lean in, and her hair brushed against his face. Jasmine, he thought. Jasmine.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her breath on his cheek.

Yes, beautiful. Nicholas cleared his throat. He said, “Gunther was an artist. I will miss him.”

Mike smacked his shoulder. “Get a grip, Nicholas, this maniac caused billions of dollars in damage, and nearly gave all of us a heart attack, and you’re admiring his art?”

Savich laughed. “I suppose I will, too. Sorry, Mike.”

Nicholas said, “You have to respect the enemy, first rule of warfare.”

“You’re both nuts.”

Sherlock stepped into the room. “If all is peachy keen again, then why aren’t the lights on?”

Martin called out, “That will take a while. Once we kick the intruders out of the system, the power companies will have to turn the grids back on gradually so they don’t overload the system again.”

Nicholas stood up and stretched. He felt good. It was a major save. He shook Martin’s hand, yelled his thanks to everyone in the room, and let Savich pull them both out of the IT room.

“Listen up. Mr. Maitland called. Iran’s nuclear facilities are online, and Vice President Sloane is, needless to say, closely monitoring everything. We may be called upon to help launch a cyber-attack.”

Nicholas said, “What? What’s this? Aren’t they all in peace talks in Geneva?”

“The talks have been suspended. The president is coming home early. And listen to this. POTUS’s schedule has him and the vice president giving a speech at the former Yorktown Refinery tomorrow.”

Mike cocked her head to one side, said slowly, “The president’s speech tomorrow at Yorktown—it’s all about clean energy, emergency independence, probably more, but that’s the gist and that’s why we took Yorktown off our COE threat matrix after they announced they were changing from refining to being simply a depot. The move is in answer to the president’s green-initiative program. It was bought by a private investor who is bringing all the facilities up to current environmental standards. It’s what he’s announcing tomorrow, and I’ll bet he was going to announce success with the peace accords, too.”

“Probably, though it sounds like that’s off the table. What are you getting at, Mike?”

Nicholas was watching her. He recognized the look on her face—focused inward, brain sorting through scenarios at the speed of light—it was mental leap time. She said, “A lot of people in the oil industry would be invited to this event, correct? The people from ConocoPhillips and the other companies who were part of the cyber-attack last night would be invited?”

Savich said, “You think the cyber-attack was more than sowing chaos in the oil companies, don’t you?”

“Yes. The fact is that COE downloaded a ton of stuff off the servers. They could easily know exactly who’s going to be at Yorktown. They’d also know the president’s exact schedule, and very possibly the vice president’s schedule as well. But you know, I bet what they really wanted was the plant plans.

“If they bombed Yorktown, not only could they take out the oil company leaders, they could take out the president and vice president. Yorktown is their target.”

She grinned maniacally. “And now try this on for size. I think it makes sense—that third unidentified Middle Eastern man seen at the apartment in Brooklyn could very well be the assassin Zahir Damari. I think he’ll be at Yorktown to make sure the vice president is blown to bits, and if she isn’t, he’ll assassinate her himself. Maybe the president as well.”

Savich, like Nicholas, had been watching her. She was right. Nicholas loved her brain.

Savich said, “Mike, it’s the first question we’ll ask at Langley. Come on, let’s go. The CIA is ready for us.”

“I have a feeling,” Mike said as she double-stepped to keep up, “that the CIA already knows this and now they have to admit to us that Damari was part of COE. The bastards.”

56

ROOK TAKES E1

Catoctin Mountains

There’d been rain recently, and that was good luck for him. A thick layer of wet leaves mulched the trail and kept his steps quiet and obscured. Zahir had walked for half a day without seeing another human being, but now, as twilight began to creep in around him, the guards appeared, silent as wraiths, walking alongside him in concert, weapons at the ready, the dogs tight on their leads, one hundred yards away. Separated by space, and a large electrified fence.

He followed the path of the fence, listening to the static hum, like a hive of bees off in the distance. It made his teeth hurt and his jaw clench. He shook his head, trying to get the aggravating sound out of his ears, but he needed it as a guide, needed the buzz to tell him when to move.