DEPARTMENT X: Treacherous Assignment

Treacherous Assignment

John Lock

Copyright © 2015 by John Lock

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or any other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission of the Author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

All events, story lines and characters are fictional. Any resemblance, similarities or portrayals relating to people alive or dead are entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9933848-0-6

www.lockpublishing.com

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Lethal Credentials

DEDICATION

To my wife, Lindsey, who has put up with my moods and frustrations – even though she contributes to them!

I would not want to be without you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Whilst I endeavour to include in my books as much factual, yet interesting, information as possible, I am grateful to all the expert sources that have enabled me to achieve this.

Chapter 1

A cold, eerie, mist rolled slowly across the muddy fields and over the dank, water-filled ditches as Kane Rhodes and Brian Jones paused to rest; their lungs straining to take in the cold, damp, morning air. The sound of excited, barking dogs could be clearly heard in the distance as their pursuers closed in.

We can’t stay here Kane gasped as he tried to top up his oxygen levels by taking deep breaths. They’re only a few minutes away, come on, let’s get going.

Wait Brian breathed heavily. There’s some sort of river over there, perhaps we can throw the dogs off the scent.

I see it, but it looks quite deep and swollen by the heavy rains. Are you going to be able to make it?

I’ll make it alright Brian replied, scrambling to his feet. Just make sure you don’t fall too far behind, I don’t want to have to waste time coming back to look for you.

Yeah, as if.

The pair scrambled out of the watery ditch and hurried across the energy sapping mud until they arrived exhausted at the river’s edge. The water flowed freely as the river weaved its way through the muddy farmlands. Here, grab the other end of this he continued, picking up the end of a log, complete with branches and leaves. This should help us keep afloat and give us some cover.

The two weary fugitives half carried, half dragged, the heavy log into the cold, swirling river.

I hope it floats after all this moaned Brian.

Hang on Kane shouted the current’s taking it.

As they drifted off, Kane’s mind wandered back to how they got there in the first place.

An Israeli missile test had gone wrong which nearly united all the Arab states together against Israel. North Korea had verbally threatened to attack America as the Chinese watched on, more curious than anything else, and there were several territory ownership rows which went on for weeks. Kane had spent most of this time recuperating after being injured on his last assignment and his boss, Bill Johnson, was reluctant to bring him back to active service so soon, but had no choice.

North Korea’s threat to attack America had been responded to by the U.S. stating that any threat from North Korea, verbal or otherwise, would be treated as an act of war and would be responded to in the appropriate manner. In this case the appropriate manner would be a missile strike, which would mean that America would have struck the first blow leaving themselves wide open to condemnation, and probably more, from China and Russia.

The North Koreans had acquired a modified Russian guidance system, believed to have been updated in the U.K. so that their missiles would not only be more accurate but also travel farther due to a sensitive speed control program. This caused the rocket to go into ‘neutral’ when it reached a certain speed, cutting off the fuel supply, and then coast for a couple of minutes before kicking back in. The ability to periodically glide for these few minutes was down to the additional, correctional flaps on the rocket casing, controlled by an advanced software system, which had been developed by an Israeli scientist. The original problem was that the rocket would lose altitude and although the flaps helped, it did not account for any rocky terrain, which is where the U.K. adaption came in. An American scientist working out of the U.K. had developed the cruise speed control to work with the terrain locator used by Cruise missiles. The improvements meant that these rockets would be able to accurately fly, relatively low over any terrain, using only 60% of their normal fuel load. In this case it would be possible for a rocket to travel from North Korea to Washington, which is why America was getting even more involved with the Korean rhetoric.

George Daniels, the assistant Chief of Staff for MI5, had masterminded a dawn raid on suspected terrorists in London and Cambridgeshire. During one of the raids at a computer repair shop in Hook, the police discovered two circuit boards, still wrapped in their shipping packaging which showed it had originated in China. This on its own would not normally arouse suspicion, but the package was next to a sophisticated computer in a back room of the shop, together with some print-outs showing a schematic of a missile and a part completed, printed software program which clearly identified the options for terrain mapping in flight. It was originally thought to be part of a games program but closer examination of the computer itself confirmed it to be a software adaption to be loaded onto an e-prom and tested on one of the circuit boards. Further examination of the boards identified them as being one of the latest Russian missile guidance systems.

The software program was later identified as originating from an Israeli scientist, Avi Cohen and the programmers in Hook were adding the finishing touches. George had passed the information over to the newly promoted Chief of Staff in MI6, Bill Johnson, as Avi Cohen was involved in a previous case and the origin of the circuit boards from China would have been of interest.

An MI6 operative, Brian Jones, was dispatched to Beijing to track down the source but after several days of investigation discovered that the parcel was sent by a courier on behalf of a customer whose name and address proved to be non-existent. All the traits however, pointed to the actions of the Central Security Bureau, the 8341 Special Regiment. These were primarily bodyguards to the senior politicians but had a section devoted to ‘aiding their foreign comrades’ and used their connections to supply information and expertise to ‘friendly’ countries.

One of their main successes was internet sabotage and they had set up an elaborate array of ‘Hacking stations’ where they have developed specialised software capable of hacking into the most secure of systems. Modern technology has improved to the extent that most hacking attacks can be traced back to their origins, which is why these mobile ‘pods’ had been set up. The benefit of this was that any traceability back to China could be blamed on random groups.

In 2012, Microsoft’s on-line store in India was successfully hacked and the blame was put on a Chinese Hacker group, the Evil Shadow Team. Twitter, Facebook and NBC were just some of the major companies that had been hacked, most of which had been traced back to China but nothing that could have been directly linked to the Chinese Government.

Sophisticated retrieval software had been developed, based on the Ramnit Worm which had been successfully used to hack into bank accounts and Social Media sites. This worm collected banking details and passwords and, based on the principle that most people use the same password for the majority of their files, it allowed the Hackers to have access to a wealth of information. Working on the passwords and information obtained, Hackers were able to infiltrate large corporate sites and although Oracle had come up with a patch to stop them bypassing the Java Sandbox, a considerable amount of valuable information had already been obtained and updated ‘worms’ were already being developed.

This all went to enhance the development of the modified guidance system which was based on information extracted from American Defence Suppliers and both Russian and United Kingdom Software houses. This information, together with the recent information extracted from Israeli correspondence revolving around one of their main scientists, Avi Cohen, enabled the Chinese to compile the basis of a ‘superior guidance system’ but they needed to convert the theory into reality.

North Korea was the ideal choice. They were eager to show the world they could militarily match anything the Western World could come up with, and a missile capable of reaching the United States would be an excellent bargaining tool. China was also North Korea’s main ally and any successful development of military hardware or software would be automatically shared with the mother state.

Brian Jones eased his muscular body out of the old wicker chair, one of several that had seen better days but served their purpose in the dusty, street cafe that overlooked Wangfujing Street. Brian had been sent to the Dongcheng District of Beijing to trace the origin of the computer boards that had been sent to the software house in Hook, England. Examination of the records from the courier house showed the sender’s address as being non-existent, but one of Brian’s contacts, Li Wang, a local Taxi driver, had phoned to say that he had located the boy who delivered the parcel to the couriers. The beep from the horn of the stationary green and yellow cab now parked outside the cafe, had interrupted Brian’s thoughts, but after three days of dead end investigations, Li Wang’s grinning face promised some possible progress.

Good morning Li Brian offered as he climbed into the back seat and closed the door behind him. I hope you’ve got some good news for me.

Morning boss, very good news, but cost you plenty.

You haven’t earned the money I gave you yesterday – yet.

Not me boss, delivery boy, he want plenty money.

You take me to him and I’ll decide how much his information is worth.

I take, we go now. Li accelerated away from the kerb causing a startled cyclist to veer sideways into another two-wheeled road user.

I take it you don’t like cyclists? Brian grinned.

They too slow, take up much road, much time.

Li Wang weaved his Hyundi Sonata in and out of the constant tide of cyclists and five minutes later, pulled into the side of the road.

Are we here already? Brian asked.

Yes, man paid boy to deliver parcel but walk with him to couriers, then watched boy deliver parcel and pay money. Boy think maybe they need him again and follow man back to his office. He want plenty money to show you.

So where’s the boy?

We find, he not far the driver replied, getting out of the car.

Brian climbed out of the back seat onto the pavement and cautiously surveyed his immediate surroundings as he slowly closed the rear door. Li Wang had been a paid informant, or rather information gatherer, for the last seven months, but Brian knew he would ‘sell him out’ if the price was right.

The busy sidewalks slowed progress as Brian struggled to keep up with Li Wang as he eased his way through the bustling crowds. Li’s waving arm caught Brian’s attention as he looked to see Wang talking to a boy of eleven, maybe twelve years of age.

This the boy? Brian asked, studying the youngster’s grimy features and faded, worn clothes.

Yes, he want five hundred Yuan, up front, to show you.

Brian did a quick calculation in his mind. Five hundred Yuan worked out at about fifty pounds sterling or roughly eighty dollars, a small fortune to the dishevelled street urchin staring up at him with large, brown slanty eyes.

Tell him one hundred Yuan now and another one hundred when he shows me where this man’s office is."

Two hundred chirped the street wise urchin.

So you speak English?

I speak good English, I went school, I show you best places in Beijing

Li Wang hurled a mouthful of abuse at the young entrepreneur for trying to steal away his source of income.

Chill Li, I didn’t understand much of what you said, but I get the gist of it. Brian glared into Li’s doleful eyes before turning his attention to the boy. I’ll give you one hundred now and two hundred Yuan when I’m satisfied you have shown me the right place.

Two fifty bargained the smiling waif.

Two hundred and that’s final, take it or leave it.

The boy studied Brian’s unsmiling face for a few seconds before holding out his hand. Okay, me take you.

Brian slowly took out his wallet and handed over a hundred Yuan, half expecting the youngster to make a bolt for it, but, putting the money in the pocket of his tattered shorts, the boy turned and walked briskly through the heaving throng of commuters with Brian and Li Wang in close pursuit. The brisk walk had lasted for just over five minutes when Brian noticed that the boy had stopped outside a smart office block and he appeared to be looking up to a window on the third floor.

Is this it? Brian asked as he approached the boy.

Yes, that where he work. You pay now.

Not so fast Kane replied, looking at the two male receptionists in the front foyer.

How do you know that is the office where he works?

I follow, he not nice man. Hit me in face when saw me follow him.

And how did you get past reception?

Easy, I show. The boy smiled and watched the people coming and going from the elite offices. After a few moments, he noticed two men approaching the entrance. They were both deep in conversation and the man nearest him carried a newspaper in his right hand, held against his chest, while his left arm hung loose by his side. As they neared the entrance the boy moved forward to walk next to the man but slightly behind so that he was outside his peripheral vision. Just as they were entering the building, the boy raised his hand to within an inch of the man’s left hand and maintained that distance through the open doors towards the lift. One of the receptionists stared at the boy for a few seconds, then at the man, but from his vantage point it looked as if they were holding hands and the boy was being led into the building. Approaching the lift, the boy held back for a few seconds then turned to his left and ran towards the red tiled stairs. With a mischievous smile he bounded up them, two at a time, but the other receptionist had seen him and was already coming from behind the reception desk to seek identification.

Brian increased his pace and was soon entering the building where he strode purposefully across the reception area to the stairs. Following the boy’s example, he quickly climbed the stairs, two at a time.

As he past the first floor, the receptionist emerged, having failed to locate the boy and he quickly followed Brian up the stairs to the second floor. Brian carried on up the stairs as the flustered receptionist disappeared through the second floor doorway. He mentally took stock of his bearings and where the windowed office, the boy had indicated, would be situated when he entered the third floor from the stairs. Opening the door, he could see the boy being roughly shaken by a thirty something office worker before releasing his grip and letting fly with a back handed slap which caught the boy on the back of the neck sending him crashing to the floor. As the battered youngster bounced off the floor, the smartly dressed thug lashed out with his foot, catching the prone lad on the top of his thigh.

Brian realised he had instinctively increased his speed and began to slow down to a more normal pace so as not to attract attention, though he dearly wanted to pay the attacker some attention of his own. By the time he had reached the boy, the office worker had disappeared back into the office, slamming the frosted glass panelled door behind him.

You okay? Brian asked, staring down at the beleaguered boy as he shakily got to his feet.

Me okay came the quiet response, the smile starting to return to his face. You pay now.

I take it that was him?

Yes, he gave me parcel.

Taking three hundred Yuan out of his wallet, Brian handed it to the boy who made a quick assessment of the amount before promptly shoving it in his pocket.

You want me show you Beijing? You want pretty lady? The boy asked, thinking about the generous amount of cash that had been handed over.

No, I’m fine Brian smiled. You’d better hop it before the porter gets here.

He too slow the boy smiled back as he turned and limped back towards the stairway. The bully’s kick had given him a dead leg, and he was now no match for the receptionist who opened the stairway door and within three bounds had caught up with the hapless boy who tried in vain to limp away.

Brian moved towards the arguing pair, there was no way he was going to let the lad take another hiding, but the porter gently grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck and frog marched him out onto the stairs.

The office door had no name on it, just the number thirty three and Brian dearly wanted to see what was on the other side of that frosted glass. Brian had a very limited knowledge of Mandarin; the SIS courses were designed to give a simple understanding of day to day phrases but very little else – unless you were to be posted to that particular country, then you got the works. His usual stamping ground was Europe and the Middle East and as such was fluent in French, German and a smattering of several Asian dialects but his Chinese, whether it be Mandarin or Cantonese, was very limited. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver Parker pen and four steps later, rapped on the frosted glass in the middle of the door. Trying the handle, he was surprised to find the door open, so he pushed it wide to give him a full view of the small, compact office.

Two Chinese operatives were sat in front of two banks of monitors at opposite sides of the room. One was in his early twenties, the other was older, thirty four, thirty five – the same guy that had kicked the boy. Brian looked at the startled faces of the two men who were now staring at him. The eldest rose from his chair and glanced around Brian to look at the door as he walked cautiously towards him. From the concerned look on his face, Brian sensed that the door should have been locked.

Is this your pen? It was on the floor outside the door? Brian asked in very patchy Chinese, emphasising the words pen and floor which were the only two words in Mandarin he was sure of.

The operative stopped, looked back to his colleague and then back to Brian before taking the pen from his outstretched hand. He turned the pen around and began to unscrew the barrel as Brian scanned the computer equipment on both sides of the room.

Satisfied that it was just a pen, the Chinese agent walked to the open door and ushered Brian out into the hallway before callously closing the door behind him. Brian heard the click of the door being locked followed by a bout of raucous laughter. As he walked towards the stairs, Brian recalled the layout of the office to store it away in his memory banks. The monitors were linked to processors beneath the desks whilst several external hard drives were stacked next to each monitor. At the end of each row of desks was a sophisticated Wi-Fi modem linked to a scanner.

The external hard drives were probably used for storing masses of downloaded information, usually emails and .php files or information retrieved from virus worms. Judging from the type and amount of equipment, Brian concluded that this was an information gathering pod, probably the one that had retrieved the Israeli and American data, but he still needed to find where they were getting the Russian Missile guidance boards from. As he walked down to the reception floor, he looked around for an information board or some visual indication of when the offices close, but there was nothing evident. Perhaps they stayed open day and night, which would make his next task more difficult.

It was approaching four o’clock in the afternoon; normal office hours were 08.30 to 16.30 or 17.00 so he would not have long to wait to see if the computer operators in room thirty three worked a normal day shift. Selecting a seat in the corner of the reception area, which offered a clear view of both the lift and the stairs, Brian sat down and pulled out his mobile phone. Selecting Candy Crush from his games apps, he began matching up the symbols whilst making frequent, furtive glances towards the lift and the stairs.

At 16.30 the reception filled with departing office workers, bustling past the reception desk and out through the glass entrance doors. By 16.40 this had dwindled to a mere handful, but though there had been several possible sightings, he had not been able to identify the two from the third floor.

The reception area filled again at 17.00 and Brian strained to scan the faces of the departing throng. Five minutes later, the grinning face of the thirty-something bully emerged from the lift with his colleague at his side. Brian watched them as they disappeared out the front doors and slowly got to his feet then made his way towards the stairs. He climbed the stairs one at a time, until he had turned onto the second flight where he was out of sight of reception. Increasing his stride to cover two stairs with each step, he was soon entering through the third floor doorway. Checking the hallway was clear, Brian pulled out his pick pouch and selected a pick and probe and on reaching the door, immediately began picking the lock. Forty seconds later he was inside and closing the frosted glass door behind him.

The lights on the two Wi-Fi modems were still flickering as Brian carefully but slowly traced the cables to identify which processors were linked to what equipment. Each computer was linked to its own external hard drive but on rechecking the cables,