CHERUB: Guardian Angel (25 page)

‘What about the weblog?’ Ruby asked.

Ethan looked confused until he scrolled up the screen and found a file called
weblog
.

‘I didn’t know that was there,’ Ethan admitted.

‘Well I’m no spy,’ Ruby said. ‘But if the key log file logs keystrokes, the weblog file probably records all the websites Leonid visited.’

Ethan was starting to like Ruby and finished her sentence. ‘So we hunt through looking for the URLs of online banking sites. Then we look at the key logs and screenshots from the same time period and with any luck we’ll be able to capture Leonid’s login details.’

Ruby began flipping through the faxes, and read something off one of them. ‘Irena thinks Leonid has a friend at a Russian bank called Industrial Trust. So let’s search for that website first.’

As Ethan decrypted the weblog file, Ruby found the website for Industrial Trust on Google and clicked through to the bank’s customer login screen.

‘Search the weblog for the Industrial Trust website,’ Ruby said.

Ethan opened the weblog file up in Microsoft Word and did a search. The document was twenty pages long and it jumped to a bunch of references to RITB on page sixteen. Until this Ethan hadn’t even been sure that Leonid used this computer for banking.

‘Holy shit,’ he said, as he looked back at Ruby. ‘I’ll get the key log for the time he logged in, you check the screenshots.’

The Industrial Trust banking site used drop-down menus to prevent logins being detected by a simple key logger program, but the spyware also recorded screenshots of whatever Leonid did.

‘Looks like his password is
IlOvmyself
,’ Ethan said, as he studied the key log.

But Ruby had less success with the screenshots. ‘When you log into the online banking it asks for three digits from your security number,’ she explained. ‘I’ve got the third, seventh and ninth digits here, but if we try to log on it’ll ask for different ones.’

‘Crap,’ Ethan said. ‘Let’s hope he’s logged on more than once.’

He checked through the log files and found two more Industrial Trust logins. When Ruby checked the drop-down screenshots she managed to get digits one, two, five and eight of Leonid’s security number.

Ethan wrote what they had on a Post-it note:

650?8?447

‘We could try logging in,’ Ethan said. ‘There’s a decent chance that it won’t ask for digits four or six.’

Ruby nodded in agreement. ‘We’ve got nothing to lose. It won’t lock us out after one failed attempt.’

Ethan opened a web browser and navigated to the Industrial Trust login page. He entered Leonid’s password. He was satisfied when a green tick appeared and a little box slid open.

‘Please enter digits two, three and nine of your security code.’

‘You’re in luck,’ Ruby said brightly.

Ethan swigged his Pepsi as he entered the numbers using the drop-down boxes and pressed
enter
.

A banking home screen appeared with
Welcome Leonid Aramov
written at the top. Below it was a listing of five different accounts. Three were in euros, one in Russian roubles and one in US dollars. The rouble accounts seemed to have the big numbers in them.

‘Any idea about the exchange rates?’ Ethan asked.

‘It’s around thirty roubles to one US dollar,’ Ruby said. ‘Nine hundred and eighty-four million roubles is around thirty-two million US dollars.’

Ethan smiled. ‘So that’s almost half of Grandma’s missing money right here. Get me the details of one of my grandma’s accounts. I’ll try and transfer it back.’

Ruby read details of one of Irena’s accounts from a fax message. Ethan tapped the details in the transfer screen and hit
send
, but a warning box popped up on the screen.

Transfers in excess of 2,500,000 roubles require further verification. Please contact your personal banking representative for full details.

‘Shit!’ Ethan said, as he looked around the screen. ‘I guess we could do it two and a half million at a time but it would take a while.’

‘And the bank’s fraud protection systems would pick that up in a heartbeat,’ Ruby said.

‘OK,’ Ethan said, as he clicked on the
change details
button. ‘Let’s try something else.’

A screen opened up where you could change any personal details after you’d re-entered the password and a mother’s maiden name. He tapped the screen.

‘I don’t know what Grandma’s name was before she got married, but we can find that out. This is the tricky part.’

Ruby leaned forward and read the text aloud. ‘All changes to personal details must be confirmed via e-mail.’

‘So,’ Ethan said, jerking with pain as his ankle caught the edge of the desk. ‘It looks like Leonid’s set up a Gmail account. We’re going to need to access that before we can change his passwords, so let’s go through the logs and see if he’s accessed it over the last few weeks.’

Kazakov, Ryan and Ning had touched down in Dubai a few minutes before Ethan’s arrival in Sharjah. But while Ethan had gone straight to a hangar, the instructor and CHERUB agents found their arrival at the private jet terminal coinciding with the departure of Dubai’s Crown Prince, so they were forced to wait aboard their plane for a full half-hour.

‘My mobile’s dead,’ Ning said impatiently. ‘There’s no airport Wi-Fi. It’s like someone’s blocking all the signals.’

‘That’s exactly what’s happening,’ Kazakov explained. ‘Wireless and cellphones can be used to trigger bombs, so when very important people move around they switch off all the networks.’

Ning nodded. ‘All these Arab leaders are shitting their pants after the uprisings.’

‘It shouldn’t matter much,’ Ryan said. ‘TFU is a pretty small set-up, but Amy said they’ve got a crack CIA hacking team working on this now.’

‘Your personal touch with Ethan might still be vital,’ Kazakov said.

As soon as the Crown Prince’s jet was in the air, the ground crew rolled steps up to the plane. A few seconds after that, the Wi-Fi network kicked in and signal bars started reappearing on cellphone screens all over the airport.

It was two in the afternoon in Dubai, which made it 3 a.m. in California, where Ethan thought Ryan was. Normally Ryan would avoid calling when he ought to be asleep in California, but the situation was critical so he risked it.

While Ryan logged into the Ethan identity on his wrecked BlackBerry and made a call that would reroute through TFU headquarters in Dallas and appear to be coming from the USA, Ning called Amy for an update.

Ryan was stepping into the airport’s marbled VIP lounge as Ethan answered.

‘I just got your messages,’ Ryan said. ‘Your life is
insane
. Are you safe?’

Ethan sounded distracted. ‘It’s good to hear your voice, Ryan! I am safe. I’m in Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates.’

‘Sharjah,’ Ryan said, astonished to find that Ethan was less than twenty kilometres away, and had travelled from southern Africa in the time it had taken them to move half that distance from Kyrgyzstan.

‘Ryan, no disrespect,’ Ethan said. ‘But I’m in the middle of some serious shit. I’ll call you back when this is over.’

‘I can help you,’ Ryan said keenly. ‘You said something about the FTP.’

‘It’s all good, bro,’ Ethan said. ‘Well, my shoulder’s agony, my feet are blistered and my ankle is up shit creek, but Grandma found an old Russian bomber to get me out of Africa and now I’m hacking up Leonid.’

‘I can totally help you with that,’ Ryan said. ‘It’s the middle of the night, but I don’t care.’

‘I’ve got an accountant on the case with me. I’m in Leonid’s online banking and I’ve just cracked his Gmail account. I’m sorry, but I’m hanging up.’

Ryan tried thinking of one last-ditch way to get information out of Ethan, but the line went dead.

‘Cocky little bastard,’ Ryan complained.

Ning was still on the phone with Amy. It sounded like things were going OK, but Ryan and Kazakov had to wait until Ning hung up to get a full report.

‘There’s a CIA team working on the spyware files,’ Ning explained. ‘Leonid has divided his mother’s money between at least ten banks. They’ve already transferred a few million dollars out of one account and they’re working through the rest. How was Ethan?’

‘Sounded pretty chipper,’ Ryan said, as an expression of concern spread across his face. ‘He must be accessing different accounts to the CIA team. Sooner or later he’s going to log into something and find that we’ve been there first.’

They’d almost reached the customs desks when Kazakov had a realisation. ‘Did I hear you say Sharjah?’

‘You did,’ Ryan said.

They had to break for a moment as they flashed passports at a customs officer. Kazakov got asked if Ryan and Ning were his own kids, and after explaining that he was their tutor and that they were travelling on to Britain they got waved through.

‘I’ve got a text from Ted saying that we’re booked on a flight to London in a little over three hours,’ Kazakov said, as they stepped on to a downwards escalator into the transit hall. ‘But we’re not getting on it.’

‘Why not?’ Ning asked.

‘It’s important that we get control of all of Irena’s money,’ Kazakov said. ‘Ethan’s got to change Leonid’s passwords to
something
. And if we can get hold of Ethan, I’m sure I can tease the new passwords out of him with a little gentle persuasion.’

‘Shouldn’t we check with Ted or Amy first?’ Ning asked.

‘I’ll let them know what I’m doing,’ Kazakov said. ‘But it’s not like they’re going to say no, is it?’

The trio stepped through automatic doors into muggy air. There was no taxi rank, but a smartly dressed chauffeur dashed across the tarmac and gave a little bow.

‘Limousine, sir?’ he said brightly. ‘Which hotel, sir?’

‘Sharjah Airport,’ Kazakov said. ‘Quick as you can.’

The trio didn’t waste time putting bags in the trunk and lobbed them all into the back of the stretched limo. Although the long car looked cool from the outside, Ryan was disappointed by a shabby interior that smelled vaguely of wet dog.

Kazakov pressed the button to raise the privacy screen and looked at Ning as the driver vanished behind a rising leatherette wall.

‘You’re faster with those smartphone keyboards than me,’ Kazakov told Ning. ‘We know the Aramovs have a base at Sharjah. An office, maybe even their own hangar. Get me an address.’

‘The Aramovs’ more reputable flights are run as Clanair,’ Ryan said. ‘It’ll probably be under that.’

Ning only took a few taps to get an exact address for Clanair’s Sharjah Airport hangar, but the traffic was horrendous and they took fifteen minutes just to reach the main road out of the airport. Amy called Ning just as they turned on to the expressway heading towards Sharjah.

‘It’s not looking that great,’ Amy said dejectedly. ‘The CIA team has taken control of eight of Leonid’s bank accounts and TFU in Dallas are trying to get a couple of accounts inside the European Union frozen under money-laundering laws. But the big money was in Russia and it looks like Ethan beat us to it.’

‘So much for the CIA’s team of experts,’ Ning said.

‘Ethan must have been tipped off by his grandmother,’ Amy said. ‘It seems he went straight for a bank called Industrial Trust and unless Irena’s a lot poorer than we thought, Ethan’s now got control over the vast majority of her money.’

As Amy spoke, Kazakov gave Ning a signal to pass the phone over.

‘We’re on our way over to the Clanair hangar to find him,’ Kazakov said. ‘I’m sure a little Spetsnaz-style persuasion can wring a few passwords out of a thirteen-year-old.’

*

Andre had just got back from a web café in Dordoi Bazaar when Ethan called to speak with Irena.

‘Ruby’s added it all up,’ Ethan told his grandmother. ‘She reckons eighty-six million was transferred out of Leonid’s accounts. I’m currently controlling accounts with seventy-three million in them.’

‘You’re a good boy,’ Irena said softly.

‘Passwords got changed on some of the minor accounts before I got to the other thirteen million,’ Ethan said. ‘Leonid must have been tipped off somehow.’

‘Must have,’ Irena said thoughtfully. ‘I’ll know soon enough. My spy at the hospital says he’s on his way back here.’

People moved aside as Leonid and Alex Aramov strode through the Kremlin lobby. One of the guards asked how Boris was doing and Leonid almost ripped his head off.

‘He’d be doing better if the security teams around here didn’t have their heads up their arses,’ he barked.

There was a woman with a cleaner’s cart waiting for the lift.

‘Get the next one,’ Leonid ordered, as he shoved past her. ‘Ugly old bag.’

Even the lift seemed scared of Leonid and the doors closed obediently, without any of their usual shuddering back and forth. When he got to the sixth floor Leonid strode purposefully out of the lift towards his apartment, with Alex two paces behind.

‘Mr Aramov, I must ask you to stop right there.’

Leonid looked back and was surprised to see two bulky men with handguns at the ready.

‘Where did you two monkeys come from?’ Leonid roared. ‘You work downstairs, you pricks.’

The bigger of the two men took a step forward. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to hand over any weapons you may be carrying.’

‘Hands off,’ Leonid shouted.

As Leonid turned back, he saw another big guy push Irena into the hallway in her wheelchair.

‘Have you lost it, Mother?’ Leonid shouted. ‘Swallowed too many pills again?’

‘Shut up,’ Irena ordered. ‘Take the gun out from under your jacket. Do it slowly or I’ll tell them to shoot you.’

‘She’s high on painkillers,’ Leonid told the guards. ‘You can’t listen to what she tells you.’

‘I know you tried to kill me,’ Irena growled. ‘But you messed that up, like so many other things. Now open your jacket and drop the gun. Alex, the same goes for anything you’re carrying.’

Leonid grimaced as he took his gun out and placed it on the carpet between his boots.

‘Kick it across,’ Irena said.

Leonid did as he was told and one of the heavies swooped in and picked the gun up.