The End Game

Nicholas smiled at her. “Our question exactly.”

“Tell me about this hacker.”

“Gunther Ansell. His work is legendary, but he never could resist attaching a bit of flair for others to see so they could admire his architecture. He’s made a living hovering on the borders of society. But this time he trusted the wrong people. If we’re right, he was killed after he provided COE with the worm.”

Gray said, “One of the COE people must have flown over to Germany and killed him. In and out, fast.”

Nicholas added, “These people are playing for keeps, and this plot has been under way for a while, since it takes time to build software this sophisticated, able to break through firewalls and seize control of an entire system. It required a vast amount of pla

“How long would it take?” Mike drank half her soda, felt the caffeine rush zing her brain.

“Weeks, even if they’re really talented. An attack of this scale? To find the funding—Gunther’s code is wildly expensive—develop the software, plan exactly where and when to gain entry? Plus time it to a bombing? It’s possible we’re looking at months of back-end work.”

Mike saw a chessboard in her mind, saw chess pieces moving slowly, one space at a time, getting into the proper position. It was hard to get her brain around all the complicated and unexpected moves COE had made, all the while sticking with their pe

Nicholas was stroking his hand over his chin. “What they’ve done, killing three agents—this group has to know we’ll come after them with everything we’ve got.”

Gray said, “Nicholas is right. They’ve declared war.”

It didn’t make sense to Nicholas, but he now knew the FBI would focus their incredible resources on this group. Did they want to go out as martyrs?

Mike finished off her soda and crushed the can. “We’ve got to find them before we line them all up and fire our ca

Nicholas said, “We now have some light, Mike. What with the hiring of Gunther, the massive attack, we know they have ties to the hacktivist community. It changes everything. There are probably others ready and willing to help with whatever COE needs, since it appears the group has unlimited funds. Maybe even Anonymous.”

Mike said. “But to date, Anonymous has held government websites hostage and stirred up trouble in places like Ferguson, whipping the populace into a frenzy. But Anonymous doesn’t bomb refineries and take electric grids down and preach for people to stop importing Middle Eastern oil.”

Gray looked thoughtful. “Yet.”

“I know,” Mike said, “yet.”

19

QUEEN TO C5

Nicholas cracked open another soda. He took a sip, yawned, and stretched. “Tell me what you think.”

Mike said, “My gut tells me it’s got to be the new member, the person who’s come on board recently and changed the group’s focus, changed what they originally perceived their purpose to be—namely, to disable oil facilities that import Middle Eastern oil. It sure fits with the over-the-top cyber-attack.”

Nicholas was drumming his fingers on the table, never taking his eyes off her. She had bloody good instincts, and, he admitted to himself, he believed she was right, since that’s what he’d been thinking too.

She said, “You’ve made the co

Zachery stepped into the conference room, dragging. He sat down hard in the chair at the head of the table. Nicholas slid a soda his way. He took it, opened it, drank half, then set the can on the table. He looked from Mike to Nicholas.

“I thought I told you two to go home,” he said. “Instead, you walk in on four murders, three of them our own people, and you, Nicholas and Gray, stop a cyber-attack. The head of ConocoPhillips called to say thank you.” He fiddled with the Coke can. “We lost three good men tonight. I want to know why. Tell me what you’ve discovered.”

Nicholas ran Zachery through everything they knew or suspected, including his call to Menard and Gunther’s murder, and ended with Mike’s plans to gather all the video feeds from Mr. Hodges’s house and the refinery.

Zachery shook his head. “Who could have guessed? I mean, cyber-attacks? Talk about shifting gears. But you pulled the plug on them, by what means I probably don’t want to know. But you also know they won’t stop. Not only that, it seems like they’ve taken one huge step from the road they were on, new game, new rules, and who knows where it’s leading?”

Nicholas sat forward. “Gray and I have a line in now. I’m confident we can begin tracing the attack and have names by morning. There’s a start.”

Zachery massaged his forehead. “All right. Set things up. Nicholas, write up a warrant to go after everything Gunther Ansell had on his computers, if they even exist anymore, and Gray, get Interpol to release their files to us. I want to know everything this hacker has done, thought, or pla

He rose. “We’ll tackle this again in the morning. You’ve done excellent work tonight, but it’s time to shut it down.” He looked at his watch. “We’ll meet again at eight-thirty tomorrow—this—morning. If I see any of you a minute before, I’ll make you clean all the toilets on the twenty-third floor.”

Gray said, “Sir, we must get my team going so they can follow all the threads on the cyber-attack. Nicholas stopped the main event, yes, but there’s no telling if they’ll regroup and try again. With luck, we can protect all the systems and get the companies ru

“Very well. Call in some of your people, give them instructions, then get some sleep; you’ve been at it over twenty-four hours. All of you, that’s an order.” He paused, shook his head. “Another order.”

Twenty minutes later, Mike stuck her head in Nicholas’s cubicle. “Ready to get out of here?”

“I am. Gray gave his people instructions and left. I got the warrants in and sent some threads into the ether.”

“And I’ve got in a request for the Bayway video feeds.”

“I’m sure Nigel could be convinced to put together a tray if you’d like to come to the house.”

“Sounds tempting, but a shower and my very own bed wins hands down. Get some sleep, Nicholas; you need it as much as I do.” She touched her fingers to her bruised face. “I gotta say, though, your pretty face looks better than mine. It’s going to take a gallon of makeup to make me presentable. I’ll see you back here at eight-thirty.” She gave him a little wave and was gone.

He watched her walk away down the hall, shoulders straight, head up, clothes ripped and black, straggly ponytail swinging. He rubbed his hand over beard stubble and his fingers came away black with soot. He was tired, sore, and frustrated. Zachery was right, things could wait until morning.