Cyber Terror Read Online Free Page A

of the Highgate tombs. Opposite the window, the
giant screen unrolled itself. In seconds, the system was ready to show the CCTV footage of the ransom left in Kingston Upon Thames.
    It wasn’t a thriller.
    In split-screen mode, there were two views of a rubbish bin taken by fixed cameras at different positions. The bin containing a black sack of money was on a tree-lined riverside path called
Barge Walk. Highlights of the recording were a mum in a bright red cagoule pushing twins in a wide-load pram, an overweight jogger putting on a brave but probably unwise burst of speed, a spaniel
cocking its leg against the bin, and a young black woman walking past eating a sandwich with one hand and holding a mobile to her ear with the other. Then came the significant forty-three
seconds.
    A slightly podgy white man entered the scene from the left. He was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and a beanie hat. He was probably trying to look younger than he actually was. He wasn’t
hurrying, wasn’t dawdling. He dropped a chocolate wrapper into the bin and hesitated. He looked around suspiciously and then put both hands into the bin as if he were about to lift out
something heavy. He paused again. Another second or two of indecision. He straightened up, scratched his cheek and glanced round once more. Finally making up his mind, he walked away
empty-handed.
    “The police identified him as David Venables,” Kate remarked. “A local government worker.”
    Jordan nodded. He had logged in to the Unit Red network and the police report was being fed directly through his optic nerve into his online brain. “They cleared him of any
involvement,” Jordan added. “He was going along Barge Walk, saw the black sack, decided to take a closer look and then changed his mind. ‘It could have been a bomb or
something,’ he said when they questioned him. That’s all. No interest in electronics, nothing beyond normal use of a computer, no connection to Ecuador or Edinburgh. End of the
line.”
    “Yes,” Kate replied. After a moment’s thought, she added, “Or guilty but very crafty indeed.”
    “Not that crafty or he wouldn’t have got caught on camera. And if he’s Short Circuit,” Jordan said, using the police’s code name, “why didn’t he take
the money?”
    “That wasn’t the point, judging by the message he sent afterwards,” Kate replied. “He just wanted to check he’d panicked the authorities enough to make them cough
up and put millions in the bin.”
    Jordan sighed. “Okay. He’s on a power trip. But if Short Circuit’s that good, he must’ve known the police would put cameras in the bushes. They’d keep an eye on
their cash. So, he wouldn’t show up.”
    Kate shrugged. “Good point, but somehow he knew they’d delivered the ransom.” She pressed the switch on the table and the curtains began to open. “By the way,” she
added, “I’ve got a present for you.”
    “Oh?”
    “Angel asked me to hand it over.” From behind the sofa, she produced a cardboard container, slightly bigger than a shoebox.
    Inside he found a pair of shoes and a pair of gloves.
    “The latest development,” Kate told him. “You can’t see this – not even with your eyes – but the gloves and the soles of the shoes have got tiny carbon
nanotubes on them. Like the hairs on spiders’ feet. Microscopic Velcro.”
    “So?”
    “You know how Velcro sticks well, but you can ease it apart at the right angle? That means you can put the shoes and gloves on and walk up walls and across ceilings.”
    “Really?”
    “Even surfaces that look smooth are rough under a microscope. Rough enough for flies and spiders to grip with the hairs on their feet. Rough enough for those as well,” she said,
pointing at his new shoes and gloves. “Awesome.”
    “How do I know they’ll take my weight?”
    “We’re putting you on a diet,” she replied with a grin. “No. You’ll be fine. A square metre of it holds a car