Cipher (11 page)

Jonathan Grace was having sensory
overload. Walking through the passageways of the Grand Bazaar, Istanbul’s
largest indoor and outdoor market dating back to the fifteen century,
mesmerized him. From the glittering jewels, to the opulently colored carpets,
and the aromas of rich kebob meat roasting on opening fires, Jonathan felt like
a kid in a candy store. The Grand Bazaar was a rare experience of culture that
he had seldom been exposed to in his forty-something years of life.

“This place. It’s… it’s incredible,” he said.

They walked slowly through the meandering passageways of the
Grand Bazaar, something Jennifer had done on countless occasions. “I know,” she
said. “I guess I’ve just gotten somewhat used to it. You know my father used to
have a jewelry store here.”

“What happened to it?”

“That was decades ago, now he just rents out the space. He’s
owned it forever, and buying something in here now is pricey. It’s in very high
demand, so he does well from his rentals.”

“Like a little property tycoon isn’t he?” he asked.

She laughed a bit to herself and Jonathan got butterflies.
He hadn’t remembered feeling that way about a girl in ages. “I guess so,” she
said. She smiled at him again. Her arm was no longer in a sling, but she was
cautious not to give it too much movement.

“Hello?” she answered her phone and Jonathan stared at her.
No one was supposed to have
their
numbers.

“Who is it?” Jonathan asked.

“Hang on a second, it’s my mother,” she said, and Jonathan
breathed a sigh of relief.

“What did she say? Who’s number did you write down?”

“That was strange. She told me that someone named Agent
Jenkins called looking for me. She said it was urgent and that I needed to get
back to her. How do they have my mom’s phone number?”

“Well, she’s related to you right? Of course they’ve
probably somehow tracked down all of your family and friends,” Jonathan added.

“I should call her shouldn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said. She pushed the numbers into the screen of
her phone and let it ring. The two of them stood in front of a grand carpet
store that had the most richly colored carpets with the most vibrant crimson
and purples Jonathan had ever seen on a rug.

“Hello? Is this Agent Jenkins?” she asked. Jonathan had to
standby patiently while she spoke on the phone. He only caught one side of the
conversation.

“This is Dr. Cobalt,” she said. Then there was silence for a
few minutes while she listened. “Okay… yeah… okay… yes… I understand… okay…
sure… sounds good… bye.”

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

She stood and stared at him for a few moments. “It’s… it’s…
an NSA Agent. She wants to meet with us.”

“When? Where?”

“Well, she’s here… they’re here… in Istanbul. She wants to
meet this afternoon. At 3pm. She said she would call me back in an hour to
coordinate an address.”

“Did she say anything else? Did she tell you what it was
about?” Jonathan asked.

“Loosely. She said it was better that we speak in person,
but she said I would know what it was about.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Do you think it’s really an Agent from the NSA? What if
it’s someone else? What if it’s a cover for the guy who’s been trying to kill
us?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I didn’t get that feeling.”

“You didn’t get that feeling?” Jonathan half-heartedly
chuckled to himself. “What do you mean you didn’t get that feeling?”

“I don’t know. It just sounded… I don’t know… legitimate,”
she said softly. They started walking again, this time a bit slower as they
spoke about what they had seen.

“Okay, well I guess I’ll just take your word for it,” he
said.

“Good.” She smiled at him and preened her hair. “Say, are
you hungry? I’ve been starving. Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”

“Sure, what are you in the mood for?”

“Everything here is good,” she said. “Do you like lamb or
chicken kebob? It’s to die for here.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said.

*****

Boris Medviek walked along the city streets of Istanbul,
casually. He had just evaded capture
by the skin of his teeth
.
Once things had calmed down, he made his way into another taxi. As the cabbie cruised
down through the city streets, he could still hear the police sirens off in the
distance, but he was safe; maybe he wasn’t completely safe, but safe enough for
the time being. He checked the GPS on his phone as the taxi made its way
through the streets. And although he spoke near-perfect Turkish, he didn’t look
the part that day. His blonde surfer look certainly would raise some eyebrows
if he spoke in Turkish.

“Do you speak English?” he asked the cab driver.

“Evet. A little bit.”

“What’s happening? Why are there so many police cars?” Boris
asked. He knew exactly why, but he wanted to find out what the cab driver
thought.

“I don’t know. There are always police here,” said the cab
driver.

Boris smiled to himself a little bit. “Oh, okay.”

“You, mister, where are you from? You not from Turkey.”

“California. Los Angeles,” Boris said. That was a bold face
lie but he looked the part.

“Oh, I love very much California and Los Angeles. I hope one
day to visit,” he said in broken English.

“It’s a beautiful place,” replied Boris. But all he could think
about was getting back on his yacht. All he could think about was how many
countries would kill him right there just to gain access to the information he
was carrying with him. The most valuable list in the world was in his
possession.

“Yes, I hear very much things that it is beautiful. You are
very lucky man. Why you come to Turkey for visit?” he asked in more broken
English.

“For a vacation,” Boris said.

“Oh, very good place to vacation.”

“Can we go that way, over the bridge please?” Boris asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said.

Jonathan was pointing in the direction towards the ocean, to
the other side of the Bosporus where he would catch up with Dmitry and get back
on board his yacht. But as they were rounding the corner and cruising swiftly
down the ocean side road, he noticed a
road block
.

“What are those cars over there? Police cars?” asked Boris.

“Yes. They block the bridge. They check ID. It
okay
. Do you have passport with you?” he asked.

“No, I forgot it at my hotel. Can we go a different direction?”
Boris was in a panic. As they neared the police blockade, he tried his best to
calmly tell him to take another route. However, the cab driver had his own
ideas, and assured him it would be okay.

“No, no problem. It will not be problem. We explain. I will
explain,” he said.

“No,” Boris said. “Turn around now. I don’t want to go this
direction. Take me in the other direction.” But this time he said it with
sinister determination, and he looked the cab driver directly in the eyes
through the rearview mirror. If his eyes could have spoken, then would have
said he was going to tear the cab driver’s head off if he didn’t turn around.

“But I cannot turn now. There is nowhere to turn. The police
will understand.” The car was stuck in the busy thoroughfare heading straight
for the Bosporus Bridge. On the other side of that bridge was Boris’s yacht,
but between him and the yacht were the police.

He pulled out his gun and pointed it at the cab
drifver
. “I didn’t want to do this, but if you don’t turn
this taxi around right now, I’m going to kill you,” he said in the most
sinister tone.

“Please… please… no… I have children… please…”

But before Boris could say anything else, the cab driver put
the car in park, opened the door, and started running. Boris was partially
shocked by his actions. He got out of the backseat, hopped in the front, and
spun the car around. The police cars, seeing the activity, started screaming.
The cab driver ran towards them and yelled in Turkish for them to help, that a
man with a gun was in his taxi.

Boris cursed underneath his breath. He never should have
done that. He pushed the metal down hard as the sirens started blaring behind
him. He weaved in and out of the traffic in the other direction, narrowly
missing several head-on collisions. He picked up his phone and called Dmitry
again.

“Brother, where are you?” Dmitry asked.

“I’m stuck on this side. I need you to come back. The police
are blocking the bridge. I can’t cross.”

“But we just arrived here. Police are all over the docks. We
can’t go back. You can’t go there,” Dmitry barked into the phone.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?” Boris asked.

“I don’t know brother. There is another route. You don’t
have to take the bridge. Check your GPS. We will wait here for you.”

Boris was sick to his stomach. He was stuck on that side of
the bridge and couldn’t make it over. He should have just crossed, but he was
certain they would have spotted him.

“Shit!”

“I don’t know how you’re going to get here brother. Just get
here. We need to leave. There’s too much heat here.”

“Okay! Shit! I’m coming!”

Boris punched the directions into his phone and throttled it
more as the cop cars creeped up behind him again. This time, he was behind the
wheel. His safety was up to him, and only him. He had to evade them. He had to
do whatever he could do to escape. His heart was racing and his mind was
spinning. He had to get away. He had to.

He spun down a side street, shifting down a gear and
redlining the engine as the tires of the yellow taxi screeched around the right
corner. A woman screamed at him in Turkish as she tried to cross the street. He
looked behind him to see the cops turning the corner and he screeched back to
the left, this time narrowly missing a group of kids kicking a soccer ball
across the street. He watched them curse at him through the rearview mirror,
but all he could think about was escaping the cops.

The congested city streets made it difficult to evade the
police, but it also made it equally difficult for them to chase him. He looked
down at his navigation as he took the alternate route that added at least
an
twenty more minutes to his journey, but he had no choice.
He had to make his way around to the other side of the Bosporus and take the
other bridge, then cross back over. He could still hear the sounds of the
police sirens as he pushed the gas down and merged onto the highway. He could
see the police not too far behind, and he began desperately weaving in and out
of lanes, causing multiple accidents enroute.

He was glad he was in Istanbul and not in the states. The
silence in the air was golden to him. There was no
helicopter
making
chase; no air support anywhere to be seen or heard. He pushed the
throttle down harder, shifting into the fifth and final gear as he took the
taxi to its limits. He continued weaving in and out until he hit the exit and
screeched off the ramp and down a steep embankment where a red light awaited
him. He slammed on the brakes hard as the taxi tried to stop just
in the nick of
time. Boris cursed the road and cursed the
cars on it. Everyone was in his way.

His phone rang and he answered it. “Boris, brother, where
are you?”

“I’m coming. These damn cops are still behind me.”

“Shoot them,” Dmitry yelled.

“I can’t. I’m driving!” Boris yelled back.

“Okay, how long? How many minutes? We’ll get the boat ready
to leave.”

“Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes at the maximum,” Boris
barked into the phone.

“Okay, hurry. We’re waiting.”

Boris cursed into the phone and then hung up. He screeched
through the red light, narrowly missing a head-on collision with a semi-truck.
He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t slow down. He shot down the streets following his
navigation for what seemed like forever. Finally, he could see the docks. He
could see his yacht. It wasn’t far now. He was going to make it. He looked back
and didn’t see any cop cars or hear any sirens. He could breath a sigh of
relief for now.

 
Jonathan and Jennifer got lost in the
Grand Bazaar. With 5,000 shops and being the largest covered market in the
world, it was easy to get lost in there. But they didn’t mind. Had they not had
the pressing issues to tend to that included life and death, they would have
been perfectly fine leisurely combing the passageways of endless wares in that
ancient market. But there were other things to do. They did in fact have much
more pressing matters to tend to. But if you looked at their faces, the
momentary emotional bliss that they both experienced had nothing to do with
Boris Medviek, the cipher drive, or anything else for that matter. It had only
to do with each other.

Something began to happen between those two. Something
visceral was occurring. A bond was forming, and it was becoming a strong one at
that. They were experiencing a rush of emotions that included fear and anxiety,
but also included something else. They both couldn’t describe it, but they
could both sense that it was occurring; they knew that it was occurring. It was
something that happened so rare in life, that when it did, you just knew it.
And each of them knew it. They could feel it. They could sense the vibrational
energy coming from one another, and it was powerful. But it also made them feel
uneasy. There was a fear that came along with that strong emotional connection
that was
occuring
.

As they passed one shop after another, various merchants
stood in the passageways trying to coax would-be shoppers into purchasing their
goods. They called out in English, Spanish, French, Italian, and German. They
used whatever language they felt suited that particular passerby. And they were
excellent at their trade. They were skilled at spotting the Americans and
speaking English to them, or the Italians and speaking Italian to them. It was
like watching
an artist
paint; they were masterful at
it. It was inspiring to see and witness first hand for both of them.

“I’ve always been so amazed at how these merchants just know
that you speak English or Italian,” said Jennifer.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jonathan replied. “How
old is this place? It feels ancient?”

“It’s said that it was constructed in 1461. Five and a half
centuries ago,” she said smiling.

“How do you not get lost in this place?”

“I know, it’s pretty confusing,” she said.

“I’ll say so. Don’t you think we should head over to the Aya
Sofia?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes, it’s in this direction. It’s just a 15-minute walk
from here,” she cooed.

They walked through more passageways, each one connecting to
another meandering route with hundreds upon hundreds of shops. Eventually, she
led them towards the exit and they reemerged out into the city and traversed
through the various little roads and staircases that led them towards the blue
mosque, Aya Sophia. Agents Jenkins and Steiner were waiting for them outside of
the entrance to the mosque. The agents immediately recognized the pair.

“Hi Jonathan, Dr. Cobalt,” Jenkins said.

Steiner chimed in with a “Hello” as well.

“I’m Special Agent Jenkins, and this is Special Agent Steiner.
I can’t tell you how happy we are to have tracked the two of you down,” Jenkins
said.

They walked towards a seating area outside the Aya Sophia, near
a small group of outdoor eateries where they all sat down on low-slung benches.
The area was a hotbed for tourists, and people milled about in masses, making
the area much more crowded due to the peak travel season.

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” Jonathan said.

“Hi,” Jennifer said.

“I assume that you know why we’re here?” asked Jenkins.

“Yes. I think so,” Jennifer said while Jonathan looked on. She
gave him a nervous glance.

“Mr. Grace, what’s your connection with all of this? How did
you come to meet Dr. Cobalt?” asked Steiner.

Jonathan looked at Jennifer and wasn’t sure how to respond.
He didn’t want to let on that he was working for the Italians, but he also didn’t
want to leave information out that could cost him his life, or Jennifer her
life.

“I’m here searching for something with her help. The cipher
drive,” Jonathan replied. It was as close to the truth as possible.

“But it’s clear you two don’t know each other before your
meeting here in Istanbul,” Jenkins said. She wasn’t asking, she was just
saying.

“Yes,” Jonathan said. “That’s correct. We met here, in
Istanbul.”

“Who sent you?” Steiner asked.

Jonathan felt like he was being grilled. “Tell them,” Jennifer
said. “They’re on our side.”

“The Italians,” Jonathan said.

Jenkins and Steiner both looked at each other as if that
statement puzzled them. “The Italians?” they asked in unison.

“Yeah, the Italians,” Jonathan replied.

“Which Italians?” Jenkins asked.

“Why does it matter? I’m here, aren’t I?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m talking to you. I’m cooperating with you,” he added.

“Look. We’re not here to judge you or persecute you. We’re
here for one reason and one reason only: to catch Medviek. If you can’t be
upfront and honest with us, it’s going to be that much harder to get this whole
thing sorted out,” Jenkins said. She was an expert negotiator.

Jennifer nudged Jonathan with her elbow, as if to tell him
to let them know everything. It was their lives on the line. “Don Cicerone sent
me.”

The two agents looked at each other again with incredulity.
“This just gets more and more twisted by the moment, doesn’t it?” asked
Steiner, speaking to Jenkins.

“Okay. Look, we’ll get back to that part later,” Jenkins said.
“First off, I need you to tell me everything you know about the cipher drive
you’re after. I need to know everything. We need to find out what our exposure
is here. This is looking like it’s much worse than initially expected.” She
looked at Jennifer this time. “Dr. Cobalt, can you fill me in on the blanks
here?”

“Yes,” Jennifer said. “The cipher drive contains advanced
cipher algorithms that I created. I was contracted by a lab in Arlington,
Virginia called Advanced Biogenics.”

“Okay, I think we know about your employment history there.
But what type of ciphers specifically are these?” asked Jenkins, looking on
with concern as if she was just about to hear some earth-shattering
information.

“The kind of ciphers that can crack any RSA key, or any security
on the Web for that matter. The ciphers are based on an advanced algorithm that
I created. Traditionally, brute force algorithms work in one string where a
device sends repeated attempts to in a relatively linear and consecutive
manner, to hack a portal or a server. My ciphers are different. I was able to
come up with an algorithm that sits on a very different type of chipset. This
chipset is much more advanced and acts more like a human brain.”

“How so?” asked
Jenkins.

“Okay, so in the human brain you know that there are
billions of neurons. Each of these neurons – or nerve cells – is
connected to other neurons by axons, which are the nerve fibers. The axons
occur in synapses, the places where electrical impulses send signals from one
neuron to another. These neurons are grouped in the brain based upon what
function they serve, which is why we have so many of them,” Jennifer said.

The three looked on as Jennifer spoke, seemingly confused by
the conversation that was going way over all of their heads. “So,” she
continued, “In this chipset there are thousands of processors that act like the
neurons, thousands of equivalent memory modules that act as the axons, and tens
of thousands of synapses, which act as the communication between the processors
and memory units. It’s because of this chipset that my advanced algorithms are
much more highly effective because it’s a multi-pronged attack, and not a
lateral attack that would exist in traditional methods. It’s that chipset,
combined with the algorithms, that make this cipher drive highly lethal.”
 

“When you say highly lethal, what are we talking about
exactly?” asked Steiner.

“It’s advanced enough to crack a 2048-bit RSA key in under
30 minutes,” Jennifer said.

“That’s impossible,” Jenkins said.

“Not impossible.
Very possible.
In
fact, very much so a reality,” Jennifer cooed confidently.

“But present-day technology couldn’t even hack a 1024-bit
RSA key in under 7 months with some of the strongest computing power,” Steiner
said.

“I know,” Jennifer said. “I know that.”

The two agents looked at each other again with more
incredulity. They couldn’t’ believe what they were hearing. It was much worse
than they had initially expected. “We have to get that cipher drive,” Steiner
said. “We believe that Medviek has accessed some critical databases from around
the world. He has a list that we need to get back before it’s too late.”

“What list?” asked Jonathan.

“We can’t divulge that information to you, but we’re on the
same side here. We need that cipher drive,” Jenkins said.

“Yes, I agree,”
Jonathan
replied.
Jennifer looked at him afterwards as if to say that it was a stupid thing to
say. She knew that his motivation for the cipher drive was money related. She
knew that it was the only reason why he was there. Yet, she somehow found
herself being attracted to him. There was something about his damaged past that
drew her in. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She didn’t know exactly
what it was, but there was a spark there, something that seldom ever happened
for her so she took very clear notice of it.

“So what’s the plan?” Jennifer asked.

“Well, you have to understand that we’re dealing with
someone who’s extremely sophisticated,” Steiner said. He whipped out his laptop
and started leafing through photos of Medviek. “This is Boris Medviek here.
He’s the head of a Russian crime syndicate with very deep pockets. He’s very
well connected and highly intelligent. He’s also a master of disguise,” he said
as he showed different pictures of Medviek that looked like entirely different
people.

“But that doesn’t even look like the same person,” Jonathan
said.

“Yes, we’re well aware. His disguises allow him to slip
through most places completely undetected,” Jenkins said. The pair of agents
made a great team. They fed off one another, one speaking first, then the other
speaking next.

“So how do we find him?” Jennifer asked.

“Well, that part won’t be that difficult. We’re aware that
his yacht is here in the area. In fact, it was parked in the harbor this
morning. Presently, it’s on the other side of the Bosporus. And, even though
he’s very cleverly shielded the true owner of the yacht through a Panamanian
Bearer Shares Company, we’ve been able to track the ownership to him through a
series of methods that I can’t discuss with you all,” Steiner said.

“What about the guy who shot me?” Jennifer asked. “What
about that scum bag who shot at us, and almost killed us both, twice? What’s
being done about him?” Her faced turn red with anger as she was speaking. The
thought of replaying those events in her mind infuriated her. She was angry
that she was now the target of an obvious hit put out on her.

“That’s Viktor Petrekov. He works for Medviek,” Jenkins
said.

“I don’t understand why these people are after me. I don’t
understand why I’m the source of all of this. I didn’t do anything aside from
working on a project that I was contracted to do,” Jennifer said.

“Yes, but you have the knowledge to recreate that. I think
that’s what they’re afraid of,” Steiner said.

“Yes, but without the chipset it means nothing. The reason
why that cipher drive works is because it’s sitting on that chipset,” Jennifer
said with an almost matter-of-fact look on her face.

“Well, they want you for what’s up there then,” Jenkins said
pointing to Jennifer’s head.

“Wanted for your brains,” Jonathan said. He was trying to
make light of the situation but no one laughed at his attempt at a joke.

“Well, so what are we going to do then?” Jonathan asked.
“How do we get the cipher drive back, catch Medviek, and stop Petrekov from
trying to kill us?”

Jenkins looked at the group. She was sure of the plan they
had hatched, and she looked at the pair in the eyes, back and forth, as she
explained in detail, just how they were going to go about it. “We do have a
plan,” she said. “This is what we’re going to do…”