The Range Rover rumbled and bumped up the mountain side, its destination the Kirill Government research establishment, somewhere in the middle of the Scottish Highlands — its purpose un-guessable.
Kirill required very little sleep; he considered it to be nothing more than an interruption in his busy non-stop schedule. Ordinary people slept, and Kirill was no ordinary person…
“Sir.”
Kirill looked into the rear-view mirror and the eyes of the driver. “Are we there?”
“Yes, sir.”
The Range Rover halted at a sheer slab of impenetrable rock. The driver spoke into his radio-link, and a moment later the slab parted and they drove into the mountain. Inside Kirill’s lair.
The interior was cool; controlled. Polished stone floors stretched away in the large reception area; it was almost like a hotel, with low leather couches and tall potted palms placed strategically. A long curved reception desk stretched along one wall and glass elevators in clear shafts went down to the carefully temperature and humiditycontrolled depths where the main servers and the virus software research and development was carried out.
Kirill shook hands with Gregson, the head of the virus software R and D department.
“How are you, sir?”
“Well, Gregson. Considering I was shot and almost killed recently.”
“I heard about that, sir. We were all sad to hear about your niece.
She was a nice kid. Was it true that it was an assassination attempt?” Kirill stared malevolently at the man, who had suddenly become very pale.
“I… I… meant…”
“You will never mention my niece again,” the words were spoken softly.
“Yes, of course, Professor Kirill.”
“Tell me what the overall status is with Scorpion communications?”
“Since the total wipe-out of Scorpion HQ in London nobody seems to know what is going on. All G8 communications have been suspended by GCHQ — we tried to find out who had been in the building at the time, but this information was withheld from us. And considering that their main Hub had been destroyed…”
Kirill merely nodded, then asked, “How successful has the
Chimera accelerator programme been?”
“We have successfully hacked into 99 % of all networks targeted.” “And what of the 1 %?”
Gregson smiled smugly, “That was our own network, sir. We set up a trial hack using one of our most powerful stand-alone processors, which was loaded with an exact copy of Chimera, and then routed around the planet back to this establishment. The attack programme was analysed, located, and terminated within a millionth of a second by Chimera.”
“How?”
“Since the last time you were here, professor, Chimera’s chameleon script has further developed itself. By the time the attack programme had reached it, Chimera had completely re-written itself, and was no longer the hunted but rather the hunter.”
“Excellent, Gregson. So Chimera is ready then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what of the un-scheduled access into the registry files?
The system must have lit up like a Christmas tree.”
“Yes, sir. This is still a mystery to us. Ramus has called several times, and wants to speak to you upon your return.”
Kirill left the group behind and stepped into the elevator and the calming silence as the glass door closed behind him. The tube hissed away and carried him down to his luxury living quarters on the lower level floor that he occupied alone. He kicked off his shoes, draped his jacket over the back of a low backed chair and walked past a variety of sculptures and carvings towards his study. He went straight to one of the fine cherry wood cabinets, which concealed a humidor, and from inside the temperature controlled cabinet he pulled a fine handmade
Cuban cigar, then poured himself a brandy and sat back in his plush leather high-back chair. The comm. buzzed.
Kirill took a long draw from the cigar, enjoying the rich smooth flavour, which filled his senses with its fullness, then hit the button. “Yes?”
“I have several things on my mind, Kirill. How much time will you need to apply the final elements to the Chimera Programme?” “Two days, at most. The Gopher Protocol Code just needs a little fine tuning.”
“And we will start to see the results, when?”
“Almost immediately. I am assured that Chimera will work at a
99 % rate.”
“And the Satan virus and worm release element has been installed and implemented?
“I am assured, by my top programmer, that if a computer is connected to the World Wide Web at the time of launching the Satan virus it will become infected. Irrespective of any anti-virus protection installed.”
“Excellent. Howare you feelingafter your near-death encounter?” “I have felt better.” Kirill smiled nastily. He stubbed out the cigar, took a sip of brandy and swivelled round in his chair to stare at one of his many fine oil paintings. This one in particular was his favourite as it could hold his gaze and never cease to amaze him; he loved the way the artist had captured, forever in time, the serenity of the lake scene. He loved the way in which the early morning lighting and rising mist, created a surreal calm in a world of mayhem. “I have a piece of good news for you. Jake Dillon — has been located. Tracked. He is presently on the Greek Island of Santorini.
Despite Dillon’s best attempts to evade us it would seem that our extensive network of satellites has worked well. We tracked him, but his destination is quite obvious — he seeks Ezra, at that infernal listening and monitoring station, I wish I could forget about.” “Ezra,” said Kirill through an exhalation of smoke. “There is a name I have not heard for a very long time.”
“I had hoped that he would have died by now,” came the soft voice at the other end of the comm. “But then, Dillon is almost doing us a favour. They have discovered the covert location of the European collective Government’s establishment for software research and development. Yes by an amazing coincidence, it would seem that
Ezra is the man who seeks to create his own version of the Chimera
Programme.”
“The fool,” snorted Kirill. “He would need years to develop anything like my Chimera Programme!”
“I agree,” Said Ramus, “but the fact still remains that he has working knowledge, available technology, and copies of the basic
Chimera blue-prints and cryptographic algorithms. We need to ensure the safety of this information — we must either retrieve or destroy them. We can kill two birds with one stone.”
“How many Assassins will you send?”
“Have no fear, old friend. I will send enough,” said the voice of
Ramus softly. “There cannot be that much resistance; after all, we will have the element of surprise on our side.” He laughed softly. “The Assassins will erase them all.”
“Good.”
“Our time is coming, Kirill. Can you taste it? Our time is definitely coming and when we have complete control, we will not abuse our power, we will not fritter away our resources like so many political powers have done through the ages, and let evil corrupt men rule the world. We will be just and fair… not weak and pathetic… but to get that far, first there must be mayhem and suffering on a global scale…”
Dark eyes glittered and there came a pause. A long and thoughtful pause. “I have a request,” said Kirill eventually. He was still facing the oil painting that dominated the wall, but something was changing within him, something strange, and something he could hardly bear.
Somehow the colours were disappointing to him now; what he craved was reality.
“And what is that?” asked Ramus.
“Dillon: I want a guarantee. I want that bastard dead.” “I’ll see what I can do.” Said Ramus.