He had just finished deploying the final version of the software to their servers in Europe. The head of the communists’ operation, Yuri Khrushchev, had insisted the attacks be carried out separately after the complications in the United States. Nothing could be left to chance. Dimitri Sokov was proud of the work they had done. The testing was complete, and he was ready to put it to good use.
After he made his way to Pavel Kozlov’s office, Sokov set his laptop down on the desk. His harsh voice broke the intricate rhythm of the classical music playing in the background.
“I have done as Yuri instructed. The operations are now separate,” he confirmed.
“And the accounts? Have you determined the accounts that should be used?” Kozlov asked.
“Yes, the selection algorithm was run on the new dataset, and very little has changed. That is as expected. Soon the files we need to send to the bots will be complete, and we can send the changes to Virginia by courier this evening as planned.”
Kozlov had a bemused look on his face and motioned to the laptop. “What is this?”
Sokov was hopeful to demo the voice-cloning software. “Would you like me to show you how it works?”
Kozlov waved his hand dismissively. “We haven’t the time for that. We should call Yuri and provide him with an update.” He held up his phone and smiled. “This is technology that a man like me can appreciate, Dimitri.”
He punched a few buttons on the device, and a tinny ring sounded from its speaker.
“’Allo, Pavel?” Khrushchev answered.
“Yes, Yuri, it is Pavel.” He looked to the hacker. “I have Dimitri with me.”
“Has everything been taken care of on your end?”
“No, not everything,” Kozlov admitted. He put on a confident voice. “But everything necessary to carry out the operation has been set in motion.”
“The American?”
Kozlov closed his eyes. “No, Yuri,” he said. “He is still out there, as are the hackers. The men are still working on tracking them down.”
Sokov chimed in. “Yuri,” he said, “we have everything in place. Everything has been tested in the labs, and the bots have reported back that there have been no software updates done on the target systems. There shouldn’t be any problems with the bots functioning properly, so we are in very good shape.”
“Yes, but these hackers — what do they know about the operation?” Khrushchev demanded.
“Not enough to cause problems,” Sokov said with confidence. “We don’t know much about the hacker in Washington, DC, but regardless, it would be impossible for one person to figure what we’re doing in time to prevent this from happening.”
“Will everything be ready for tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Kozlov interrupted. “We have also taken the Washington, DC hacker’s girlfriend.”
“Good. What was his response?”
Kozlov’s face hardened. “He has not responded yet, Yuri. When he does find out, we will bring him in.”
Sokov decided to preempt Khrushchev’s next question. “The other hacker was working on the algorithm we use to determine the accounts. He doesn’t have the full picture of what we have going on. None of them do. He doesn’t know anything about Europe. He had no involvement with that.”
“Did everything go well with Andrei?” Kozlov asked, changing the subject. “As Dimitri said, the software is in place for the team.”
Khrushchev began to laugh.
“What’s so funny, Yuri?” Kozlov asked.
“Andrei told me he had very little to do at the meeting.”
“Then what’s so funny?” he pressed.
“It will be even bigger than we could have dreamed, Pavel. Much bigger.”
Kozlov looked confused. “And Andrei did nothing?”
“Not quite. He put a cherry on the top. Fate is on our side. The Americans wanted to infuse cash into Iraq’s central bank tomorrow.” Khrushchev began to laugh again. “They wanted everyone else to help with the aid to preserve their oil grab. Andrei decided to bring up the forty billion those fools lost, and he challenged them to make up for their mistake.”
Sokov wore an unsure smile on his face as Kozlov chuckled.
“Dimitri, the Americans lost forty billion dollars that they had sent to Iraq,” Kozlov explained. “They stupidly sent cash and we were happy to help our friends there do the laundry.” He smiled. “It sounds like they wanted The Group to agree to fund Iraq’s government again. Is that right, Yuri?”
“Yes, yes,” Khrushchev said.
“They keep shoveling us money,” Kozlov added. “We must thank them when this is all over.” He smiled before continuing. “Our comrade Andrei threw the previous catastrophe in their faces and insisted they make up for what happened by paying the forty billion again.”
“No, Pavel,” Khrushchev interrupted. “It’s even better. They will be transferring forty billion on top of the original amount they had planned!”
Sokov now understood what this meant for the operation in Europe and joined in the laughter. Once they settled down, a serious look came over his face.
“Incredible. This means we’ll be able do even more damage than we thought.”
“Yes, comrade, we will,” Kozlov said. “Indeed we will.”
Chapter 91
“I’m sorry, Mr. President. I know you said not to disturb you, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Press Secretary Stephanie Craig said nervously.
President Cross was annoyed. “Who is it?”
“It’s Ivor Hood…from the FBI.”
“Hood?” The president considered the caller and thought about the situation with his friend Addy Simpson. He knew Matilde Soller was indirectly connected to FBI Director Frank Culder through her husband and wondered if this might be a way for him to help.
He gave her a curt nod and said, “Go ahead and put him through.”
Seconds later the phone on his desk rang.
“Deputy Director Hood, how can I help you?” he answered.
“Mr. President, I apologize for interrupting you on a Sunday, but I have a personal problem that I was hoping you could help me with.”
Cross detected a measure of intensity in the man’s voice. Nobody would try to cash in a favor from POTUS for something trivial.
“A personal problem?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. Please, let me explain.”
The president leaned back in his chair. “Please do.”
“Well, sir.” He drew in a deep breath. “I hope this is something that can stay between the two of us.”
“I can’t promise that until I know what we’re talking about.”
“I understand. Suffice it to say that Director Culder is unaware of the inquiry I’m about to make.”
“Okay.” There was some hesitation in the president’s voice.
“I received an alarming message from my goddaughter a short time ago,” Hood said, choosing to be direct and to the point. “She also works for the FBI.” There was a pause before he continued. “Sir, I’m very concerned that Director Culder has something going on off the books. I think her life might be in danger.”
Cross leaned forward in his chair and stared intently at the grain of the wood along the edge of his desk. “Off the books?”
“She was working with two men, Jake Sanders and Rudy Pagano. Do those names ring a bell?”
The president searched his memory and couldn’t place the names. “No. Should they?”
“Probably not. They both worked for the bureau until early 2003. They had both been involved in FBI black-bag operations in TacOps.”
“I’m familiar with the program, but I’m not sure I follow.”
“Several more FBI personnel went off the books the same day these two men did.”