Interception, p.3
Interception, page 3
Yes, I should have known about it. I’ll have a little chat with Zhang, but not right now. “Don’t make such assumptions. Now, let’s get out of here.”
Han glanced at Zhang, whose menacing eyes were following the hacker’s every move. “And he will stay away from me, right?”
Javin shrugged. “Yes, you’ll be in separate vehicles. Do you mind if I drive the Merc?”
“Not at all.”
“I didn’t think so.”
He turned to Claudia and said, “We’ll meet at the hotel, as planned.”
She nodded. “We’ll follow closely.”
Javin grabbed Han by the arm and marched him outside.
Chapter Four
Han’s Hideout and Outside
Outskirts of Beijing, China
“So, how was that?” Zhang smiled as he drew close to Claudia.
“You’re overdramatic. And what was with the shooting? What if you had hit him?” She handed Zhang the QSZ-92 pistol.
“I missed on purpose.” He holstered his gun. “About the drama ... what can I say? I always wanted to be an actor.”
Claudia shook her head. “And I wanted to be a ballerina. But here we are.” She gestured with her hands around the apartment.
“This isn’t bad at all. Considering Han’s low profile, I’d say this is luxury.”
“Yes, the low profile kept him alive and hidden for so long.”
“Until he made the mistake of helping Liu Tang.”
Claudia nodded and headed toward the door. Liu was a Chinese millionaire obsessed with Middle Eastern artifacts, especially the ones from the ancient times when Babylon and the Medo-Persian empires ruled the region. According to MSS sources, he had hired Han to locate a series of winged bull statues that were pillaged from the Mosul Museum after the city fell into the hands of the jihadist fighters for the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria, or ISIS, back in 2014. Han had tracked down the highly valued pieces and had identified the owners as Syrians living in London. “Yes, a mistake which he will shortly fix.”
“I hope so, otherwise my fury will be real.”
They climbed into the black BMW M7 sedan just outside the door. Javin and Han were walking toward the back of the warehouse, where Han had parked his Mercedes. “We’ll be able to listen and record everything.” Claudia pointed at the radio mounted on the dashboard, while Zhang put the BMW in gear.
“But they can’t hear us, right?”
“Right, unless we switch this off.” She gestured at a button on the side of the radio.
“Good. Now, let’s see what he’s going to do about the accident.”
After the initial investigation of the accident had ruled out mechanical causes, the Chinese intelligence agency had begun to look at a potential traitor in the MSS team. The suspicion had fallen on a third member of the team, who was supposed to be in the vehicle at the time of the accident. He had a bulletproof alibi, and the MSS was still investigating.
Claudia said, “Do you think Han is behind the accident?”
Zhang shrugged as he shifted gears. The BMW glided down the road and followed the Mercedes, which was about thirty yards away. “No, but he has the right contacts to find out who was pulling the strings. I mean, we know Liu is involved. But whether he gave the order, or someone was trying to impress him, that’s something we need to determine.”
“Right. Now what was the other op that you accused Han of betraying you on?”
Zhang shrugged. “Oh, that was nothing. Part of the show, I guess.”
Claudia shifted in her seat, so she could face Zhang. “Strange … Han seemed to think you were talking about something specific…”
Zhang said nothing for a long moment. Then he broke the silence. “Not sure, but I don’t think there was any occasion he betrayed us.”
“How often was he involved in MSS ops?”
“I’ll have to check. I’d say a handful, less than ten for sure.”
“And there was never an issue?”
“Not related to Han, no. At least, not that I know of.” Zhang sighed, and a frown creased his face. “Look, there were problems, like in all operations, but nothing that could be tied to Han.” He gestured with his hand toward the back. “At the warehouse, I was trying to scare Han into working with us. Nothing else.”
Claudia nodded. She had noticed the irritation creeping into Zhang’s voice. I think there’s more here than he’s leading me to believe... She decided not to press the matter any further and instead switched on the radio. “Javin, do you copy?” she said into the handheld receiver.
“Claudia, how’s everything?”
“Good. Right behind you.”
“Yes, I can see your headlights.”
“All right. Talk to you at the hotel.”
“Copy that.”
She returned the receiver to its place and smiled at Zhang. “Now we can hear him.” She turned up the volume.
At first, there was only static, then Javin’s voice filled the BMW’s cabin. “So, where will you start?”
“First, tell me how you were able to find me…”
“What, at the apartment?”
“No, it’s obvious Zhang or someone else from the MSS helped you. But, when I escaped, I thought I lost you, after I removed the tracking chip…”
“You would have lost us, but you never looked up.”
A moment’s pause, then Han said, “What do you mean?”
“The drone, you never saw the drone.”
Claudia smiled and glanced at the backseat where Zhang had placed the unmanned aerial vehicle, or drone, they had used to follow Han. The team had anticipated Han was going to leave through the window, and he was going to find the bug implanted in the Mercedes-Benz. Zhang remote-piloted the drone, and had positioned it outside Han’s apartment even before the police knocked on his door. Then, as Han attempted his escape, the drone kept a close eye on him. It transmitted a live video feed to Zhang’s ground control station, so the team was able to follow Han’s moves in real time.
Another brief pause, then Han said, “Yes, I … I should have paid attention.”
“Now, back to our operation…”
“Yes, I want to examine those recordings, and see if the investigators missed something. If this is, as you suspect, a hacker accessing the car remotely, they probably exploited a zero-day vulnerability in the car’s software.”
“Zero-day… What’s that?”
“Oh, yes, it’s a term that means a flaw in the software system that hasn’t been fixed yet. The ‘zero’ indicates the developers just learned about the problem, and haven’t had the time to find a solution.”
“Cars are sold with flaws like that?” Javin sounded very much surprised at the revelation.
“All the time. I’m sure you’ve heard of patches and updates…”
“For computers and phones, not cars.”
“Well, the race to the market can’t wait until all glitches have been fixed. What kind of car was it?”
“It was made here, but let me check.”
Claudia glanced at Zhang, who was attentively looking through the windshield.
A moment later, Javin said, “It was a Zotye Z700.”
“Oh, that explains it.”
“How so?”
“The Zotye is plagued with such issues. There have been a few cases of improper configurations, or programming errors, which create security holes. Someone with the knowledge and the skills can exploit those weaknesses to bypass the onboard digital security and take over the car.”
“Take over as in drive it?”
“Yes. Turn the steering wheel, accelerate, use the brakes.”
“Fully remotely?”
“Right. Now, there are some distance limitations, and, in most cases, physical access to the car is necessary. But it can be done remotely—again, if one knows what they’re doing.”
“All right, so those recordings might show suspicious vehicles around the targeted car, the Zotye … That’s what we’re looking for?”
“Yes. Maybe there’s a license plate or a sticker, a logo on the side, which we can then match to someone that has the expertise to use malicious software for such a remote car hack.”
A moment of silence followed.
Claudia knew Javin’s mental wheels were turning.
He said, “How many people are we talking about?”
“I know of at least a dozen who have launched such attacks, with various levels of success. But in this case…” Han’s voice trailed off.
“What?”
“In this case, things are different. The people I’m talking about … they wouldn’t mess with the MSS.”
“So, what are you saying?”
A slight pause, then Han’s voice came clearly through the radio, “This was done by someone who was paid handsomely for such a brazen attack or…”
“Or what?”
“Or this was an inside job.”
Chapter Five
In Front of the Saint Nicholas Cathedral
Monaco City, Monaco
The driver began to slow down as the yellow Lamborghini Urus Super SUV came near the end of the narrow Rue Colonel Bellando de Castro. Around the corner, on the left side, the Saint Nicholas Cathedral towered with an imposing grandeur. The original 13th century chapel dedicated to the saint was demolished in 1987, and construction for the current cathedral started the next year. Built in a Roman-Byzantine style with a white marble façade, the cathedral housed the tombs of former princes of Monaco, including Prince Rainer III. It was a favorite location for the weddings of princes, celebrities, and millionaires, like the daughter of the Russian steel tycoon Artyom Orlov, which was one of the reasons Liu Tang had come to this part of Europe.
The second, and perhaps even more important reason, was that a reclusive art dealer who specialized in “hot” items, or ancient objects that were deemed too risky even for some clandestine markets, had agreed to meet with Liu and present him with a special offering. The dealer, who went by the name of “Maubeuge”—after his first real sale, which had been an incredibly rare Maubeuge flintlock pistol model of 1799—had information about a shipment of looted artifacts coming from Syria and landing in France in three days. Maubeuge wanted to give Liu the first right to purchase the unspecified objects.
Liu glanced at his diamond-encrusted phone and shook his head. They were almost at the cathedral, and still no calls or messages. He glanced at the driver—a man in his early forties, about fifteen years younger than Liu—then he turned his head and studied the rugged faces of the two security guards in the backseat. “Did his aide contact anyone?”
“Not since we left the hotel,” the driver said.
The two guards shook their heads.
“But the dealer said he would meet here?” Liu asked.
The driver said, “Yes, at ten thirty.”
Liu looked at his gold Rolex. It was about five minutes to the appointed time. “I hate waiting.”
“Should I call him?”
“Do you need to ask?”
“No, sir.” The driver tapped a button on the dashboard to connect to the phone.
As the SUV rounded the corner and slid toward the cathedral, one of the guards said, “Mr. Liu, the seller is right there.”
Liu looked in the direction of the guard’s hand. An old man with a full snow-white beard was sitting on one of the benches by the phone booths. Yes, that was Maubeuge, and he was wearing his trademark brimmed black felt hat and dark brown Irish tweed vest. He seemed to be reading a newspaper, but Liu knew Maubeuge was observing everything and everyone around him. The old man had been a field operative for the General Directorate for External Security, or DGSE, which was the French external intelligence service, until he had retired seven years ago and had turned his attention to the lucrative antiquities market. Maubeuge was known to never go anywhere without at least a two-man team. Liu’s eyes flitted between a couple taking selfies in front of the cathedral and two men smoking while standing near their motorcycles parked to the right, near the phone booth. Any of them could be Maubeuge’s people. Maybe all of them.
“Park to the left, beyond the bench,” Liu ordered the driver, who had turned off the phone. “You,” he gestured to the guard sitting behind him, the one who had located Maubeuge, “you’ll come with me. Take the briefcase.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Keep an eye on the lovely ‘couple’ and the bikers, especially if sparks start to fly...”
“What about the woman with the stroller?” The driver pointed to his left.
A woman was sitting at the steps leading up to the cathedral and talking on the phone. A stroller was a couple of feet away from her.
Liu said, “Check her out, and make sure there’s actually a baby in there.”
“You got it, sir.”
The driver parked the SUV, and Liu ran his hand over his black Brioni suit and felt the gold-plated, compact Heckler & Koch VP9SK 9mm pistol in his shoulder holster. He disliked firearms, but knew they were a necessary evil. Liu did not expect any problems, since he had done business with Maubeuge in the past. The old man could get cranky at a moment’s notice, but he was quite reasonable and extremely discreet. Liu drew in a deep breath, then nodded at his guard. “Let’s go.”
He stepped out of the SUV and made his way toward Maubeuge, while the guard followed closely behind. The Chinese millionaire walked with small, slow steps, taking in every face of the twenty or so people enjoying the warm autumn sun and the great views. The cathedral was built on a rock that stood over two hundred feet above the Mediterranean Sea and offered splendid vistas of Monte Carlo's port. Liu lifted his official United States Air Force pilot sunglasses to the top of his head and squinted so hard that his eyes almost watered. Still, he wasn’t able to see the Russian millionaire’s yacht, which was supposed to be anchored at the marina. Maybe he’s out, sailing or fishing.
When he was about four steps away from Maubeuge, the Frenchman nodded at Liu. “Welcome to Monaco, my friend,” he said in a low voice in English with a strong French accent. He did not stand up or acknowledge Liu’s presence in any other way.
Liu frowned, but only for a split second. The gesture meant that someone was watching them. Or it could mean that Maubeuge was being paranoid, as that seemed to be his second nature, especially over the last few months. Liu had suggested the meeting take place in a hotel or another private location, but Maubeuge had strongly rejected the idea. He wanted to meet in a public place. Maybe he doesn’t trust me, Liu thought. He shrugged. I wouldn’t blame him. I don’t trust him either.
“I’m glad to see you, old friend,” Liu said in lightly accented English as he sat on the bench but not very close to Maubeuge. “Lovely weather, right?” He gestured with his hand toward the sun.
“Yes, yes, but my bones still hurt…”
“Arthritis is getting worse?”
“Yes, but it’s these stupid treatments … I’m trying this new therapy, which leaves me quite tired and makes me grouchy.”
Liu stifled a grin. You don’t need therapy for that. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Maubeuge shrugged and lowered his newspaper. “The doctor is saying I’m getting better, and I won’t need any surgery. How’s your daughter?”
“She’s okay.”
“More trouble with her business?”
Liu cocked his head toward Maubeuge, but he was looking straight ahead at the cathedral. Liu’s daughter was a young entrepreneur trying her hand in the flourishing furniture business in China and abroad. She had insisted her father not use his influence to secure her favorable deals. As a result, her business venture had hit quite a few snags, mostly as she tried to enter the highly competitive European market. But how does Maubeuge know about that? Yes, it’s his way of keeping tabs on his business partners, just like I do.
Liu gave the dealer a restrained smile. “She’s doing well, thanks for asking. But I haven’t come here to talk about my family.”
“Or my health. You’ve come here for this.” He removed a small white envelope from one of the vest’s inside pockets and handed it to Liu. “Prices are on the back.”
Liu glanced around. No one seemed to be paying attention to them. Liu’s guard was standing beyond earshot. The selfie-taking couple had disappeared, but the woman with the stroller was still there. Her phone was slightly pointed toward them. Is she recording this?
He held the envelope close to his chest as he opened it and glanced at the photographs. Their quality was poor, and they looked as if someone had used an old phone in a dark setting to snap the shots. However, it was clear what the objects were. The first two were winged bull statues. A man in a headdress and long beard was standing near the statues, to indicate their size. They were slightly taller than the man.
Liu smiled. They would be a great addition to his collection. He flipped over the picture and recoiled at the price. “How much room for negotiation?”
“Depends on what you’re buying. No discounts on single items.”
Liu nodded. It was standard practice. He moved to the third item. A gold necklace showing Inanna, the Mesopotamian-Assyrian goddess of love and fertility, resting her foot on the back of a lion crouching next to her. An eight-pointed star hung over her head. That would make a lovely gift for the Russian’s daughter. Liu smiled again. And get me back into his good graces. He glanced at the price, and, this time, he did not flinch. “I want this.” He returned the photograph to Maubeuge.
The Frenchman nodded. “Excellent choice. It’s yours.”
Liu went through the other dozen or so pictures. There were a few items he truly wanted: a box of golden coins embossed with the face of Zenobia, who was a Syrian queen ruling in Palmyra in the third century, and a set of intact ceramic pots etched with lavish decorative motifs. Liu made some calculations, then nodded to himself. It was expensive, but Maubeuge was offering a great deal. “I’ll think about the first two and these ones.” He pointed at the ones he had selected.
“Don’t think for too long. You’re the first one to see these, but there are other buyers.”
