Blackout (20 page)

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I'd better find out who I am soon, he thought to himself. And I hope I have some sodding money in my account.

'How does that work?' asked Kate. They were back up the mountains.

The three-mile trek from where they had concealed the Mustang had put the dust and grime back into her freshly done hair, but she still looked magnificent, thought Josh. Her eyes were burning with curiosity, and the spirit of adventure was warming her blood, bringing a glow to her cheeks.

Josh held the Yellowjacket Wireless Receiver in his hand. The device measured eighteen inches long, by ten across, and weighed just one pound. It was encased in a frame of thick black plastic, with a tiny liquid-crystal screen displaying the radio frequencies as you scrolled through them.

I know how to use this, thought Josh to himself, looking down at the receiver. I don't know where or when, but somebody taught me how to spy on people. 'A cellphone transmits over a local area network to its closest base station,' he said. 'Most phones and networks are digital these days, so that makes them pretty hard to hack into unless you have access to the encryption software run by the phone company. That's enough security for the average user, although if you are really worried about it you can scramble your own calls. These guys aren't doing that.'

'So what does this thing do?'

'This device is a high-powered radio receiver,' said Josh, 'with a built-in digital decoder. The encryption doesn't kick in until the call reaches the base station and gets processed by the computers of the phone company. But if you can intercept the call between the cellphone and its base station, you can tune into it as if you were tuning into your local radio station. All we have to do is sit back and listen.' Josh hunkered down behind a boulder. The Yellowjacket

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was lying in the sand next to him, along with a bottle of water. It was three in the afternoon now, and the sun was still hanging high above him in the sky. Even at altitude the heat was punishing. Beads of sweat were running down his back, soaking his shirt, and the air was so dry and overheated that it was scorching the back of his throat. A snake was winding its way through the boulders: a nasty-looking yellow and black creature. Josh watched it slither its way across the boulders. He held a sharp rock in his hand, ready to smash the reptile to death if it came any closer.

A man could fry to death out here. If the snakes didn't poison him first.

Using his thumb, Josh was scanning through the frequencies on the Yellowjacket. Most mobile systems transmitted at between 2,300 and 2,600 megahertz, a narrow range of radio bands. Which one any particular phone was using depended on the network operator, and the amount of voice traffic that they were carrying.

The receiver locked on to a signal. Josh plugged in the earphone and started listening.

'I need an FA135,' said a voice.

'We haven't got any'

'Where can I get some?'

'No idea, man. Try the Honda dealer in Phoenix.'

Brake pads, realised Josh. One of the bikers down in the camp was looking for some new brake pads for his Honda. He swivelled the dial, locking out that call and looking for another one.

'I can deliver you the stuff Tuesday, man. That okay?'

Josh listened intently. What stuff?

'I can handle three. Think you can get that many?'

'No way, man. Three Mercedes by this week, no way. There aren't that many Mercs to steal in the whole of fucking Arizona. I can get you a couple of Mercs, maybe a Beamer and a Ford. A nice pick-up, a Ranger, whatever.'

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'Forget it. I'll take a Merc and a Beamer if you can get them, but no Fords. We can't even sell the new ones, so forget the hot mothers.'

Josh leaned back against the boulder. He took a bottle of water, putting it to his lips, letting the liquid pour down his throat, taking a couple of degrees off his body heat. Got to be careful with the water, he thought. The bikers are doing a lot of business up here in the hills. They talk a lot. It could be a long wait.

Josh pushed the earphone into his anticle, pressing the tiny lump of black plastic tight against his flesh, making sure that he caught every word. Dusk had started to fall across the valley, and there was a fire burning down in the centre of the camp. Even high up in the hills, Josh could smell the charred flesh of the animal roasting on the spit: the odours of the juices of the cooked meat were making him hungry as he nibbled his way to the bottom of the day's second packet of biscuits.

Then he sat bolt upright. The rest of the bikers, he reckoned, were just dope-heads and small-time crooks. If there was anything important happening down there, it was going to be channelled through Flatner. He was their leader.

And suddenly there was a new voice on the line. 'I want him dead Flatner,' said the voice. 'Do you understand me? Dead, as of today. And that Luke boy as well.'

'Do you hear me?' repeated the voice, its tone rising into a nasal, bullying whine. 'Dead.' A

He wants who dead? Josh asked himself.

Me?

Josh fiddled with the scanner on the Yellowjacket, making sure that it stayed locked on to the call.

'We've got men roaming the area,' answered Flatner.'We're going to nail him.'

'And the boy?' said the man.

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'We're still hunting.'

'Redouble your efforts,' said the voice. 'Spend whatever money you have to. Hire whoever you have to. The expense doesn't matter.' He paused on the line. As Josh looked down on the valley, he could see Flatner standing just outside the camp, his huge shoulders hunched upwards and his brow furrowed. 'I need both of them.'

'Understood, sir,' said Flatner. 'We're already measuring up the coffins,' he chuckled as he snapped the phone shut.

It's not often that a man gets to listen to his own death sentence, reflected Josh as he pulled the plug from his ear.

Looking down at the Yellowjacket, he started punching the dials on the device. He was working purely from instinct -- he had no memory of when or where he might have received the training to do this -- but he knew that it was possible to access the incoming call number. The numbers were digitally encoded, but the device slowly unpicked the code until the incoming call data was clearly described in soft green lettering on the instrument's LCD screen.

Josh looked down at the eleven digits displayed in front of him. 08732 611544.

That's the number of the man who wants to kill me. All I need to know now is his name.

He looked up at Kate. She was stretched out on the rug, dozing gently. He had been sitting there for hours waiting for the one call that would give him the breakthrough he needed.

Inside Kate's rucksack .a cellphone rang.

Josh jumped, worried that even the quiet ring tone might give away their position.

'Yes?' he said.

'That Josh?'

Josh recognised the voice: the same gruff, unhelpful tone that he had listened to yesterday. Kessler. 'You found something?'

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A pause. Even over a mobile line, Josh could see the man's face, the skin around his beard twitching as he calculated how much information he wanted to reveal. 'You bet.'

'What is it?' said Josh. 'What's on the computer?'

Another pause. Can't you just get to the point, man?

'We can't speak on the phone.'

'I thought you said this was a secure line.'

Kessler laughed drily. 'I'm not telling you on any kind of phone.'

'I'll come to your house, then,' said Josh. 'Tonight.'

'No way,' said Kessler quickly. 'I don't want you coming anywhere near my house.'

Christ, what's he found?

'Where, then?'

'About a mile west of Kanab, just after you cross into Utah from Arizona on Interstate 89, there's a mall called The Waterfall. In there, you'll see a Taco Bell. It's open twenty-four-hours. When can you get there?'

Josh thought for a moment, running the calculations in his head. An hour to walk back to where the car was hidden, then at least a two or three hours' drive. 'Three hours, maybe four,' he replied.

'Then I'll see you there at midnight,' said Kessler. 'Don't go inside. I'll meet you in the parking lot. Look for a yellow VW Beetle.'

'Fine, we'll be there.'

'And listen - I'm doing this as a favour for Marshall,' continued Kessler. 'I'll talk to you, for half an hour. After that I never want to see you again.'

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rw.

THIRTEEN

Wednesday, June 10th. Midnight.

There were only two other cars in the parking lot as Josh steered the Mustang through the entrance to the Taco Bell. A pick-up truck and a new Audi. Josh killed the Mustang's engine, and leaned back in his seat. No sign of a yellow Beetle. He'd made sure they'd arrived a few minutes early so he could check that the parking lot was safe before they went in. He'd seen two cars at Kessler's ranch: a Ford and a Land Rover. No sign of a Beetle. Maybe he's fixed himself up with a different car just for this trip. To make sure that no one can trace him.

He's scared. And he doesn't look like a man who scares easily.

'Can you see him?'Josh said, glancing across to Kate.

She shook her head. 'We've still got ten minutes,' she replied. 'A computer nerd. I've got a feeling he's going to be punctual.'

'Want something to eat?'

'Hell, why not? When you drive two hundred miles to a Taco Bell you might as well treat yourself. Make it a half pound burrito combo, with some cheesy fiesta potatoes on the side.'

She looks thin enough, thought Josh as he walked towards the counter inside the restaurant. Not like most of the customers at Taco Bell.

It was now ten to midnight, he noted, checking the clock

fc

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on the wall. They had walked quickly down the mountainside, back to the curve of the road where they had hidden the Mustang behind a heap of boulders. The drive had been a fast one. There was little traffic at this time of night. And Josh's adrenalin was pumping furiously, pushing him forwards. If we can crack what was on that computer, maybe I'll know what I was out here looking for.

Returning to the car, he handed Kate her burrito and took a bite from his own Double DeckerTaco.The combination of beef, flour, cheese and lettuce tasted good. Fast food is what you need on the run, he reflected. Constant hits of sugary, over-flavoured food to keep your energy levels up.

Just then, the Beetle drove into the parking lot. Josh and Kate climbed out of the Mustang.

Kessler stepped from his car and walked the few yards across the parking lot to where Josh and Kate were standing. His eyes swivelled from side to side, checking the space for surveillance. One man was sitting inside the restaurant, eating a Tostada and listening to some music on his iPod. Otherwise the place was empty. As Kessler reassured himself that no one could see him his manner slowly unwound.

'Cheesy potato?' asked Josh, offering him one of the outsized chips.

'I'm not hungry,' snapped Kessler.

'Golden potatoes topped with warm nacho-cheese sauce,' continued Josh, reading from the side of the carton.'They're delicious.'

'Let's make this quick,' said Kesjler.

'Suits me,' answered Josh, putting down his food on the car. 'What did you find?'

Kessler put a black leather computer case down on the bonnet, unzipped it, and took out the Dell Inspiron. The machine lay silent and inert, a harmless-looking lump of plastic, wire, and silicon. 'Take it,' said Kessler, a rasp in his voice. 'I never want to see it again.'

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1W

Josh put his hand down on the computer. 'I will,' he said softly. 'But first I want to know what's on it.'

Kessler wiped his brow. Even though there was a cool breeze blowing through the night air, a few beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. 'The hard drive had been wiped,' he said. 'Done it pretty well, too. Whoever owned this machine clearly knew a bit about computers. They knew how to get right inside the operating system and carefully erase all traces of what programs it had been running, and what websites it had visited.'

'But it wasn't all wiped clean?'Josh asked.

'Just about. But Windows is a hell of a program. There are layers and layers of code in there, with different bits plugged into the thing as they update it every year. I reckon even Bill Gates doesn't really understand it any more.' Kessler paused to smile at his own joke. 'Eventually I found a few traces. Took me all day but there were bits of code wrapped inside other bits of code. Once you unpeeled those you had a few keys. And I didn't like what I found.'

Josh reached dewn to pick up his taco. 'What?' he said quickly.

'Ever heard of a company called Porter-Bell?' said Kessler, his eyes flicking upwards nervously.

'Vaguely,' interrupted Kate. 'Software, right? Run by a billionaire called Edward Porter.'

Kessler nodded. 'A vicious company,' he said. 'Among the hackers and phreakers and the rest of the alternative software community, they arq nick-named Hanging-Bell. That's because if you touch one of their patents, or stray onto any of the bits of commercial territory they control, they come after you like a posse on speed. They make Microsoft look like a bunch of Boy Scouts. Nobody messes with them. Not if they've got any sense.'

'What do they make?' asked Josh.

'Industrial software,' said Kessler. 'The really big pieces of

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kit that are used to control complex urban systems. The chances are that if you stop at a red light, or ride the subway to work, then you'll be relying on some Porter-Bell software. They are global, and in that space they are the best there is.'

As he listened to the explanation, Josh could sense himself growing more and more uneasy. 'Let me guess,' he said. 'Luke was hacking into it.'

'Big time,' said Kessler, his gaze sweeping across the sparse parking lot. 'What I found on his computer was a shadow. That's traces of a different operating system that has a different basic programming language to Windows. It's a proprietary system, one that belongs to just one company. I looked it up. It was designed by Porter-Bell. The kid must have been good, because that company has more security than the Pentagon. But I reckon there's only one explanation for what I found in that Dell. He'd been into their systems and stolen some of their codes.'

Josh whistled. He already had a sense of what he was about to hear, but asked the question anyway. 'What kinds of codes?'

'Security codes, of course,' replies Kessler. 'In particular, the codes for power-grid systems. You know about those?'

Josh shook his head. Maybe I don't want to know, either.

'Porter-Bell installs and operates power-grid software, the kit that gets the juice from the power station to the kettle in your kitchen,' said Kessler. 'It's like the holy grail of hackers. Get access to that software, and you could switch the power on and off at will. Gradually, Porter-Bell has been installing new software around the world, with upgraded systems that were meant to make the software invulnerable to attack.'

'Where were the upgrades?' said Kate. 'Where did they start?'

'Three different cities,' said Kessler. 'London, Paris and New York.'

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m;

'Christ,' said Josh. 'You think Luke was responsible for the Three Cities attack earlier this year?'

Kessler nodded. 'And that's why I don't want anything more to do with you.' He finally took a cheesy potato. 'I'm talking to you now, and after that I hope that I never have to see you again.'A slow smile crossed his lips.'Heck, maybe nobody will.'

With his right hand, Kessler pushed the computer further across the bonnet of the car: he touched it only with the tips of his fingers, as if it might be contaminated. 'Here's what I think happened,' he continued. 'I think this kid managed to hack into the codes, and then turned off the lights in those three cities to see if the program he had written worked. Maybe he's a great hacker, or maybe he's just some punk who happened to get lucky. That happens from time to time -- you get some bright kid who gets a few breaks and cracks into the Pentagon computers. But however he did it, your kid didn't know what he was messing with.'

'Meaning what?' says Kate.

'Meaning, crack open that code, and Porter-Bell wants to kill you, the Government wants to arrest you, and every nut, psychopath and terrorist is going to try and steal it off you.'

A malevolent smile was playing on Kessler's face and Josh was sure that he could detect just a hint of jealously in his voice. 'Think about it. The ability to turn off the power anywhere in the world at will. Everyone wants it, and you've got it. There ain't no safe place in the world for you to hide.'

Kessler turned around, walking back in the direction of the parked Beetle. 'Next time my lights go off, I'll be thinking of you.'

Josh watched as the car pulled out of the parking lot, disappearing along the slip road that led back out to the highway. He took the last bite out of his taco, and threw the remains of the food in the bin.

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'Come on,' he said to Kate. 'Let's get out of here.'

'To where?' Kate asked. 'Where the hell are we going?'

'To find Luke,' replied Josh. 'Before they do.'

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FOURTEEN

Thursday, June 11th. Dawn.

Kate lay at Josh's side, her eyes still closed, her red hair draped across her face. Josh stood up, and walked gingerly towards the Mustang. Reaching for a bottle of water, he threw some down his throat, drinking a quarter of a litre in one gulp. Slowly, he could feel himself starting to wake up.

The ground beneath them was dusty and harsh. Josh could feel a wind blowing across his face: grating, violent gusts of air, filled with grit, that seemed to smash into his skin.

As he looked around, he briefly wondered where he was. Behind him he ceuld see a gently sloping hill dotted with pine trees. Below him he could see the narrow road twisting into the distance. Further away he could see a river meandering its way towards the horizon.

Neither of them had had enough energy to drive far last night. After Kessler left, they took the Mustang out into the back roads along the state border. It was too dangerous to risk checking into a motel, and neither Josh nor Kate knew enough about this countryside to find adequate shelter for the night. So after driving through the darkness for twenty minutes, Josh turned off the road, ploughing along a dirt track that twisted its way through some fields. They might as well stay there, he had decided. They weren't going to find anywhere better.

As they lay down together, pulling the one blanket they had in their kitbags over their heads, Kate suddenly grabbed

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hold of Josh, pulling his body close against her: her fingers clawed him as if she were clinging onto him in fear that he might escape from her.

Josh had fallen immediately into a deep sleep, blocking out all his senses. As he drifted off, an image suddenly drifted through his mind. The brunette. The one he had seen a few days ago. Her lips were moving. She was shouting. But he couldn't hear anything she was saying.

Now Josh paced around to try and warm himself up. They had learned so much in the last twenty-four hours. Flatner was looking for Josh, as well as for Luke. Someone was paying him to do it. And he wanted Josh dead. It was a fair conclusion that whoever that was, he'd also had something to do with Josh's shooting.

Then again, Luke had been hacking into the software systems of Porter-Bell. His mother had told them that-he'd been talking about how he was going to make a lot of money sometime soon. That wasn't hard to figure out. He and Sen had cracked some lucrative code, and had thought that they could make some money out of it.

Edward Porter, Josh had'concluded as they completed the long drive. That's the link. We need to know a lot more about him.

He walked across to Kate. 'Wake up,' he said gently, passing her a bottle of water.

Her eyes opened, drowsy at first, then fiercely alert. She snapped out of her sleep, looking around her. 'Where the hell are we?' she said, glancing up^t Josh.

'Nowhere.'

Kate took the water, drinking a few mouthfuls, then using the rest of the bottle s contents to wash her face and hands. Some of the dust and grime from the field was sticking to her shirt and jeans, and some earth had lodged itself in her hair.

'What's the plan?' said Kate.'Where do you want to start?'

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r

'Your house,' said Josh.

There was a pause. 'You think he's there?' Josh shook his head. 'No,' he answered. 'But Marshall has ; a fine collection of guns. I'm going to see if I can borrow

I some. For the next stage of this battle, I think we need to

i be armed.' He chuckled harshly. 'To the teeth.'

1 'It's two hundred miles back there,' said Kate.

; 'Then we'd better get started.'

I

i Josh walked carefully towards the house. His eyes were scan i ning first left, then right, and his ears were tuned for the

slightest noise: a whisper of wind, the wings of a bird, or

[ the movement of a snake through the sand, any of them

I would have alerted him instantly. But there was nothing.

The place was as still as a graveyard.

I If anyone is there waiting, then I'm done for, thought

Josh. It's at least two hundred yards to the house. They will \ see me long before I can see them.

He picked up his pace. There was no cover, and no way of approaching the building without being seen. Checking j that Kate was still behind him, he started to run towards

I the front door.

I 'I don't like it,' said Kate suddenly. 'Something's wrong.'

j The hinge of the door was hanging loose. Josh stood

; next to the entrance to the house, holding on to a frag i ment of wood that had once been part of the door.

'My God,' said Kate. 'What the hell happened?' It was only as they approached the porch that they could see the extent of the damage that had been done to the house. They stepped inside together, noticing at once that the television was still on. The door had been smashed in. An axe, Josh guessed, given the way in which the wood had splintered and split. The hall had been left untouched, but both the bedrooms had been turned upside down, every drawer flung open, the contents tossed onto the floor. The

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mattresses had been ripped open with knives -- the stuffing was bulging out of them. Across the floor the scattered debris was lying in a heap.

And Josh noticed something else as well. There was no sign of Marshall.

Josh moved through to the kitchen. Every cupboard door had been ripped from its hinges, the food tipped out, and every box and jar thrown open. Flies had started to invade the house, settling thickly on the food spread out everywhere: a couple flew away as Josh stepped into the room, but the rest just carried on eating. Looking down, Josh could see that the intruders had discovered the hiding place beneath the floor: the boards had been ripped apart and the staircase smashed up.

'Where the hell is my dad?' said Kate, her voice ragged.

Josh took a moment to survey the damage. Professionals, he concluded. They knew how to search a building quickly and efficiently, and they didn't care how much damage they did. 'They were looking for me,' said Josh.

Kate shook her head from side to side. Her expression was concentrated, intense. 'No,' she said. 'They were looking for something smaller than a man, something that might be hidden here. They've ripped open mattresses. They've opened up all the food jars. A man can't hide in one of those.'

'Then it's the computer,' said Josh. 'Luke's computer -- that's what they want.'

'Or a disk,' said Kate.

'Christ, I hope they haven't attacked Luke's mother,' said Josh.

Josh walked quickly through to the room where he had slept. The bed had been knifed to shreds. Next, he strode to the back of the house, to the small room where Marshall kept his guns. Nothing. The rack was still there: a thick, solid slab of finely polished wood, with a dozen oblong slots in it. But the weapons were all gone.

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'The guns,' shouted Josh to Kate. 'All taken. And there's still no sign of Marshall.'

Josh walked back to the kitchen. Kate was standing by herself, next to the sink. The glasses were all broken, but she'd found a plastic beaker and was taking a sip of water. Josh could see her eyes flickering toward the TV. Whoever had ransacked this place must have left it on. Probably checking the TV actually worked, figured Josh. Not just an empty box with something hidden inside it. Like I thought, professionals.