“I have it on good authority that the Crimson Scimitar cell in New York was set up,” Decker said. “They weren’t getting their orders from the Brotherhood’s leadership council in Tehran. They were coming from here, from Dandong. They were being manipulated by North Korea’s Unit 110. With at least tacit approval from China.”
“You’re sure about this?”
Decker nodded.
“That’s very interesting.”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“You’ve heard of Stuxnet, of course,” Seiden said. “And Duqu and Flame. The worms that our Unit 8200 and your NSA built to infect Iran’s nuclear plant at Natanz. Everyone assumes that we were responsible for the bad lines of code that let Stuxnet escape to the Net.”
“You weren’t?”
“No. Strangely enough. Sometimes even Israeli politicians can be taken at face value.” He laughed gruffly. “But whoever added those bad lines of code wanted the world to think it was us. When were they written? Jerusalem local time. And the coding is distinctly Israeli. For a while we thought it was you guys. Flame’s command for communicating with Bluetooth-enabled devices was named Beetlejuice, after all. And an email carrying Duqu into an Iranian company last year was sent by a Jason B, as in Jason Bourne of the Ludlum thrillers. That’s pure NSA. It’s almost as if whoever scripted that code was trying to make the Americans think it was us, and the Israelis think it was you. Then, quite by accident, one of our analysts traced a transmission back to Dandong, to a specific QQ number, the Chinese equivalent of an IM screen name, and servers controlled by KPA’s Unit 110.”
“But why would the Koreans want to release Stuxnet to the Net? So that it could be reverse engineered? So someone else could figure out how it works? I don’t get it.”
“To put Israel and the United States at each other’s throats, perhaps. To sow discord. Or to ensure that the code was embedded in other systems, including those in both the U.S. and Israel. We don’t know. That’s what we’ve been trying to find out. Unfortunately, ever since the shelling of Yeonpyeong Island, things have gotten somewhat tense on the Korean peninsula. Kim Johng-un’s still untested. He talks about giving up their nuclear program, and then he goes ahead and successfully launches a satellite. No one is happy with this unstable mess so close to the world’s fastest growing economy. Although a man… a man who’s gone rogue, as it were. With a grudge, perhaps. Maybe we can help each other. Why are you here, John? Even if Unit 110 set up that Crimson Scimitar cell, your superiors would hardly send you — no offense — to investigate. They’d send someone from SCS. I mean, you’re not exactly anyone’s favorite field agent. Why don’t you trust your own people, John? What’s going on?”
Decker smiled grimly. The SCS or Special Collection Service combined the clandestine skills of the CIA with the technical capabilities of the NSA, and were generally the nerdy spies government called upon when they wanted to put sophisticated eavesdropping equipment on the ground. An umbrella could double as an ad hoc parabolic antenna in a pinch when placed strategically in a tree along the microwave narrowbeam of some enemy field office.
“Unit 110 wasn’t just communicating with Ali Hammel and his cell,” Decker answered. He glanced over at Seiden. “They’ve also been communicating secretly with someone within the Center itself.”
“A mole? At the NCTC? Are you sure?” Seiden looked thunderstruck. “Who? CIA? NSA? FBI? Do you know who it is?”
After a moment, Decker smiled his crooked smile and said, “Me.” He spat into the murky water. “Mine was the only terminal compromised. I’m being set up, Ben. And there’s only one way I can find out why, and who’s doing it, and that’s by breaking into North Korea’s Cyber Command.”
CHAPTER 18
Two figures in black carrying duffel bags dashed across the top of the Hualian Department Store, ducked beneath a twenty-foot sign with red and white neon characters, and swung in behind a jumble of air conditioning units. They paused for a moment at the lip of the building, peeked over the parapet, and stared down at the street eighteen stories below.
Scooters and cars jammed the thoroughfare. It was just after midnight but couples and groups of young men still crowded the sidewalks, forcing many pedestrians to spill out onto the boulevard or to pick their way carefully between lines of parked cars. In nearby alleyways, laundry, strung up on clotheslines, fluttered like Tibetan prayer flags in the breeze blowing in off the river. Cars honked. Boom boxes blared. Someone was cleaning his dishes on an adjacent fire escape. Someone else was smoking a cigarette. It was just another Sunday night in Dandong.
“Once you’re across, you’ll be on your own,” Seiden said, looking over at Decker. “It’s one thing for me to help you out unofficially, because of our friendship, but my government can’t be seen to be linked to this mission.”
Decker, his head completely covered, save for a slit for his eyes, continued to stare down at the street. “Yeah, you said that before.”
“Just so you understand.”
“I get it,” said Decker. “I’m on my own. I’m… I’m not very good with heights, truth be told, Ben.”
“It’s not too late to call things off.”
Decker turned and faced Seiden. “They tried to kill Becca,” he snapped. “They almost killed me. And now they’re trying to make me look like a traitor. There’s no going back, Ben.” He shrugged, trying to settle himself. “And besides,” he added, “what’s there to go back to if I can’t prove that I’m innocent, if I can’t figure out who’s setting me up?”
“As I said, there’ll be at least one guard on the other side of the roof. Maybe two,” Seiden added. “It varies, although there doesn’t appear to be any order to their posting rotation. Once you take care of them, you’ll have ten minutes to anchor your line, lower yourself to the cables, set the transponder, and return. Here.” He handed Decker a box. “Like I showed you before. We have a truck parked a few blocks away that will pick up the signals. But remember. They rotate the guards every hour. And once the men you’ve dispatched are discovered, they’ll find the transponder. That means we’ll only have forty minutes, probably less, to hack into their systems. And John.” He tapped him gently on the forearm. “Don’t hesitate. If it comes down to it, use your gun or your knife. Being a codebreaker will only get you killed now. Don’t think. Just react.”
Decker slipped the box into the zippered pouch in his vest. Next, he unslung the crossbow from his back. He pulled out a bolt and secured it to the bundle of Kevlar line in the bag at his feet. Moments later the rope was exposed, coiled and ready. Decker knelt down and took aim.
There. Right below the edge of the roof. Just a few feet above the letter L in Shanghai Hotel.
Decker took a couple of breaths and, upon the exhale, took aim and fired.
There was a sharp thwap as the bolt shot out of the crossbow, arched high in the air, and buried itself in the parapet of the Hotel Shanghai almost sixty feet distant. Decker pulled on the line and secured it to a brace which he bolted to the roof. Then he slipped on a pulley and attached it by steel carabineer to his harness. The line was certified to carry up to three hundred pounds, yet it was thin as a straw. Decker took a deep breath. He looked over at Seiden and said, “I guess this is it. Look, I… I just wanted to—”