Cyberstrike by James Barrington (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

‘These should plug a small gap until we get fed on the aircraft,’ he said. ‘Neatly done back there,’ he added. ‘I was convinced we were going to get the bum’s rush and end up sitting in economy with our knees around our ears all the way across the Atlantic.’

Natasha nodded. ‘Sometimes turning on the charm does the trick, but usually I find that the steamroller approach works rather better. Just make it perfectly clear that whatever you want to happen is going to happen, and don’t take no for an answer. I was half expecting him to refuse the upgrade, in which case I would have demanded an immediate audience with the highest-ranking BA official in the building. I can be very persuasive.’

Morgan pointed at the open envelope on the leather couch beside her. ‘So what have our lords and masters given us to keep us awake all the way to the United States?’

‘As you probably guessed, it’s a briefing document and it’s classified Secret, which I frankly think is a bit of a stretch. I reckon it’s Confidential at best and it looks like most of the stuff in it is already in the public domain. I’ve not read it properly yet, but I’m quite good at speed-reading so I’ve got a good idea about the data. I’ve scanned the contents list and some of the material that looked interesting. The short version is that the Yanks have seen the same sort of attempted intrusions on the websites of some of their utility companies, but there’s very little hard information in the briefing notes about how the attacks were carried out or how successful they were. It’ll obviously be your part of the ship to analyse what happened and what needs to be done about it.’

‘What authority have we been given to let us do that? We can’t just stick our noses into stuff like that in a foreign country.’

‘I think,’ Natasha said, ‘that you’ve probably been seconded to either the CIA or the FBI – and my guess is to the Fibbies – as a specialist adviser. That’s all on the first page of the document. My extensive knowledge of all matters GCHQ-ish is for some reason much in demand at Fort Meade in Maryland, where I am apparently expected to report for duty no later than tomorrow afternoon.’

‘You’ll be at the National Security Agency?’ Morgan asked, sounding surprised. ‘But I thought with GCHQ—’

‘You thought right,’ Natasha interrupted. ‘Cheltenham and the wizards at No Such Agency can communicate seamlessly over the NSANet encrypted network, so whatever they want me to do at Fort Meade I could have done just as well sitting in my slightly pokey office at GCHQ. On the other hand, I’ve got something of a weakness for hamburgers and Coke and steaks the size of a bath mat, and it’s nice to get out of the office for a while, so I’m certainly not going to complain.’

While she’d been talking, Morgan had opened his own sealed envelope. He pulled out a red Secret file folder and opened it up.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘My reporting address is 935 Pennsylvania Avenue, right in the middle of Washington and just along the road from the White House, which means I’ll be getting into bed with the FBI. I’m glad I packed a suit and tie.’

Natasha shook her head. ‘Not necessarily. I’ve already checked on the Internet and these days FBI agents are supposed to wear clothing that matches their environment or the crime they’re investigating rather than standing out as obvious G-men in their eponymous black suits, white shirts and dark ties, like the original Men in Black. So if you’re there to look at white-collar crime you would still need the suit, but for cybercrime and counterterrorism they tend to dress the same way as the people they’re after. So as you’re probably looking for computer nerds that means torn jeans and a T-shirt with a vulgar message printed on it and pizza stains down the front. Which is more or less what you wear at home, and I know that because I’ve seen you there.’

‘And you?’ Morgan asked.

‘I’ll wear whatever I like, the same as I always do. If somebody doesn’t like it, that’s their problem not mine. Now shut up, read your briefing notes and then get me another cup of coffee and some more of these rather yumsy shortbreads.’

Chapter 26

Fairview, Harford County, Maryland, United States of America

The five commonest cars on the roads of America are all Japanese – two of them made by Honda, another two by Toyota and the fifth one by Nissan – which had pleased Mahdi Sadir as he had no wish to contribute to the economy of the United States any more than he had to. In fact, quite the reverse. Because most Americans seem to drive everywhere, one of the first things he had done after he’d arrived in Washington for the first time a few years earlier was to buy a car: a cheap, reliable and anonymous high-mileage ten-year-old Honda Accord that was registered and insured in the name of a trusted local proxy to avoid creating a paper trail. Possession of the car meant that he could get where he needed to be without having to use public transport, at least for journeys outside the city.

That evening he carried out his usual counter-surveillance checks before he went anywhere near the vehicle, and it took him well over an hour before he was satisfied that neither he nor the car was being watched. Then he got in and drove away from DC, heading for a house on the other side of Bel Air.

Bel Air is a primarily residential settlement, shaped something like an inverted letter U and located north-east of Baltimore. It lies outside the main suburban complex around that city which forms a ragged semi-circle, the straight edge created by Chesapeake Bay to the east, and which merges