Trojan Horse (26 page)

But what if the vehicle proved a dead end? Jeff had thought of little else since sending his message to Frank. He logged onto his laptop and pulled up the scan of the passports again. What on them could he trust? He’d forwarded the names and addresses but was certain Frank would turn up nothing of use. The photos—those were real. And with facial recognition programs, a computer could generate a small selection of likely matches. But the process was time consuming and he had no time. The trick then was to narrow the search field.

He had no idea how long it would take to scan every Czech passport or identity card but knew it would be too long. No, he needed to reduce the field significantly. But how?

He looked at the passport of the leader again searching for something, anything that would help. Occupation. In Czech, the man had listed
studentka,
repeated in French as simply
student.

Jeff examined the man again. He didn’t look like any student he’d ever seen. But it might just be the cover he was using. It was surely a common one for agents. This time he sent the file to Bridget, asking her to conduct the facial scan of every college and university ID in Prague. When that was done she was to extend it to all of the Czech Republic. He hoped the NSA would have access to that data or know who would.

He didn’t wait for a reply. He had no time. She was bright and she knew what he needed.

Jeff quickly checked flights from Geneva to Prague and found none that were direct, most having a stop in Frankfurt. He booked a flight he could just make.

Now, how to get out of the hotel without the police stopping him . . .

In his office at the Mairie Commune de Meyrin Police, Ulrich Spyri’s assistant gestured to attract his attention. He waited until Henri finished briefing him on the shooting and death of the murderer, then disconnected. He looked up.

“Italy has given us access to the border scans you requested. I’ve e-mailed you the link. I’ve checked the names.”

“Any luck?”

“Nothing. There were no alerts last night during the time period you requested.”

“All right. Let’s get the American over here to look at the photos. Any names used by the kidnappers are likely aliases anyway.”

Spyri poured himself a cup of coffee but when he lifted it to his lips he realized it was rank. He dumped it out as well as the last bit in the pot, then waited as a new batch brewed. He poured the coffee, added white powder since there was no milk in the refrigerator, then raised the cup again. Before he could drink his assistant rushed over to him.

“The man is gone!”

BEIJING, PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA

CENTRAL POLITBURO

DONGCHENG

HEPINGLI NORTH STREET

6:08 P.M. CST

C
olonel Jai Feng, dressed in mufti, lit another cigarette, and glanced casually at his watch. The meeting had been scheduled for 6:00 and now that he’d arrived, the real waiting began. The longer he was made to sit, the less important he was. The sober assistant in a trim navy Brooks Brothers suit gave no hint.

During the four-hour flight from Urumqi to Beijing, Feng had planned for this meeting. Mei Zedong, Deputy First State Counselor of the Communist Party, had been his patron almost from the beginning. Zedong’s rise in the Party had preceded Feng’s own advancement in the People’s Liberation Army. Indeed, Feng had risen in the shadow of the always more powerful and politically astute Zedong. Theirs was an unofficial relationship and not widely known, though by no means meant to be a secret. That would have attracted too much interest in paranoid Beijing. Such associations were the lubricant of the Chinese government and accepted as necessary. Still, they met after regular work hours and Feng wore a gray business suit.

Though his orders to assist the Iranians had come to Feng through military channels, it was Zedong who had alerted him months in advance. This had given him valuable time to prepare and show his best to his official superiors from the very beginning. Now Feng had a coup to present to Zedong and was eager to get on with it.

He’d regretted the necessity of a face-to-face meeting as every hour he was away from his office was a risk but he was unwilling to chance an electronic communication of any sort. Events were moving rapidly and he did not trust his immediate subordinate to let him remain in charge for very long. Feng would be back behind his desk by lunchtime tomorrow, and that was not a moment too soon in his view.

At eighteen minutes after the hour the assistant lifted his head and informed him that the deputy was ready to see him. He’d received no communication that Feng could detect. It was as if the prescribed time had passed. Still, he’d waited less than twenty minutes and that was a good sign his star was still ascendant.

And why shouldn’t it be? His Cyber Warfare Center produced more intelligence than every other department in China. His people had penetrated the American Department of Defense and stolen countless documents that had allowed the Chinese Air Force and Navy to leapfrog ahead in design. And because of him, China knew the precise American response to every potential confrontation. No government in history had ever had available such broad and accurate intelligence about their principal adversary.

But in Feng’s view it was not even necessary to consider any of that. Just look at what his people had managed within the United Nations alone. It was without parallel. For the last few months, the Politburo had known every secret of that massive bureaucracy. And his department had just launched its most sophisticated operation, a Trojan that changed everything.

Zedong remained sitting as Feng entered the room. He reached across his desk to shake hands. “Can I get you anything, Colonel?”

“Perhaps some water, Deputy.” To Feng’s surprise Zedong rose, crossed to a wet bar, and poured a glass of water. He handed it to him, then took his place behind the desk. Zedong was perhaps five years older than Feng, and at least two inches shorter. Squat in appearance, resembling a toad as much as anything, he smiled constantly, a trait common among senior Party officials. Chinese culture held that the shorter the man, the more devious. That had been Feng’s experience. But Zedong had always dealt honestly with him. And so it would be until the day he did not.

“You have something urgent, I believe?” Zedong said.

“Yes. The penetration of UNOG in Geneva with our new cyberweapon is all but complete and we are rapidly gaining access to the United Nation’s headquarters in New York.”

“So I understand. I recently read a report from your superior, General Ming, saying the same thing. You are to be congratulated. Everyone is most pleased at this point.”

“We have also gained total access to the UN Office for Disarmament Affairs. This is how we learned the contents of the final report.”

Zedong smiled. “Which you altered.”

“Which we altered. The objective as outlined for us was to delay the release of the report. Given how the United Nations operates we were told this would insert paralysis for these crucial weeks. Our plan, which succeeded, was to make the alteration at the crucial juncture. However, at our moment of greatest success the trouble started.” Zedong’s smile faded ever so slightly. This was the first he was learning of this. Feng gave him a succinct briefing of events, reporting in an even voice the detection of the latest Trojan, pointing out that it meant little in the end as altering the Iran report had made discovery certain. He focused his remarks on the American man.

Zedong considered the information before speaking. “This man was a threat?” he at last asked, with a measure of disbelief.

Feng nodded. “He discovered our code in Geneva with surprising speed.” He omitted mentioning that his team had determined that the man had first identified the Trojan in London.

“This is an unfortunate development.”

“I had his photograph and identity forwarded to our contact with Iran. Initially we didn’t know the woman was with him. We only learned that after they were both picked up. Their operatives seized the couple as they were leaving the UNOG building. Their purpose was to learn how much they knew and how many others had been advised. And to halt the work.”

“It also alerted the United Nations.”

“Yes.” Feng paused. “A few hours ago these same operatives killed a UN official. He was the author of the report.”

Zedong straightened in his chair and was no longer smiling. “This is getting out of hand. Those people are lunatics. How protected are we?”

“Very. There is no direct connection between us and the Iranians. You will recall that we use a cutout. And the code was carefully vetted. It has no provenance leading back to us.”

“Let us hope so.” Zedong took a moment to light a cigarette. After drawing on it he smiled, then said, “I warned my superiors that you cannot alter such reports without alerting those involved.”

Feng resumed his briefing. “We continue to alter documents as we speak. No one in the ODA will trust or believe anything in their computers. It had been my hope that it would take months, even years, for them to unravel what we have unleashed. They might never have figured it all out. And we are reading nearly everything, most especially their communications. I could use twice as many people to handle the flood of information.”

“I do what I can but there’s no time to train them even if qualified people could be found on short notice.”

“Our access is going to be short lived in any event,” Feng said with resignation. “As they now know about the Trojan they will find a way to block it. I have a team devising a new penetration route but they will be on guard. As a consequence, it will never have the benefits for us I had envisioned.”

Feng lifted his glass and took a long drink as he watched Zedong think. “Colonel,” Zedong said finally, “I must tell you that there is criticism about your penetration of the United States Department of Defense. The information flow has slowed dramatically and certain key data long requested has not been produced.”

Feng placed his glass down. “They are getting smarter. The easy days are over. Our job is more difficult but I’m confident we’ll obtain everything that has been requested.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“This brings up another matter we’ve discussed previously. These Information Warfare Units, the so-called Patriotic Hackers, has anything been done to stop them? They make our job very difficult. Their carelessness increases security against us. Surely, with the success our sophisticated operations have enjoyed, those who make these decisions understand that the time for such groups has passed.”

Zedong nodded slightly. “I agree but progress is slow. Others control them and broadcast their every success. It is a way to cover them with glory and advance their careers. And certain people don’t want to see you alone in this area. They fear too much power in one man’s hands.”

Feng bristled slightly. “I have always served the Party faithfully.”

“Of course. But you understand.”

Unfortunately, Feng understood all too well. Zedong glanced at his watch, a Rolex and a gift from his son the previous year. Feng cleared his throat as if to announce he had something important to say.

“You recall Stuxnet?” he said.

“I’ve read your reports.” Zedong said with a smile. “And, of course, I read the
New York Times.
What about it?”

“It is my understanding that the Iranians have advised they are making considerable progress and believe they will be ready with their device in the immediate future. This was why I was ordered to alter the report.”

Zedong grimaced. “Our latest information is that they have once again overstated their capability. Stuxnet2 crippled them far more than they admitted. They could be close, but . . .” He shook his head, then asked, “How effective do you believe their new air gap measures are?”

“Better than before. They prohibit thumb drives and outside computers. But we have no confidence in their measures. They are inept in that regard and we are starting to detect signs of a new version of Stuxnet. The Iranians report nothing but then they usually learn of such matters when their programs fail utterly or we tell them. But”—he thought a moment, then said—“now that the CIA knows we altered the UN report they will conclude Iran is very close. They are certain to accelerate release of this latest version.”

Zedong stared out the window and when he spoke it was more to himself than to Feng. “If this new version does to the Iranian program what the previous ones did there will be no nuclear test. I will have to answer for that failure.”

“We have an omnibus Stuxnet countermeasure.”

Zedong looked at him sharply. “How effective is it?”

“We believe 100 percent. It will enable them to quarantine Stuxnet. Then it is just a question of how proficient they really are in the final stages of their program.”

“They claim a few weeks at most. You’re certain?”

“It works in all our tests and I assure you we’ve made them very tough.”

“And if they’ve changed the virus?”

“Our countermeasure assumes the key elements of the Trojan remain essentially the same. Short of an entirely new design, this will stop it.”