There was a moment of stunned silence.
“Which is why the plant’s automated systems seemed to be fighting me every step of the way,” Brad realized. “Like every time I turned a valve or tried to get through a door.”
“Your report gave us the first clues,” Martindale agreed. “Apparently, there were traces of malware in every significant operating system.”
“But how?” Wilk asked. “Surely Cernavodă’s designers were not foolish enough to connect their control computers to the Internet?”
“Not officially, no.”
“Then—”
“Regrettably, there are many ways to infect a computer with malware, Mr. President,” Nadia Rozek told him grimly. Wilk suddenly remembered that her father was a software engineer who specialized in Internet security.
“Major Rozek is quite right,” Martindale said. “Anyone with access to the plant’s automated control systems could have implanted those sabotage programs using something as simple as an easily concealed USB flash drive or a microSD card half the size of a thumbnail. Only the most sophisticated body scanners can detect them, and Cernavodă did not have them.”
“How many people had such access?” Wilk wondered.
“Too many,” Martindale said. “My guys think that malware might have been put in place weeks or even months ago. So the hackers could have bribed a plant operator, either somebody still on staff or planning to quit or even retire. Or maybe they suborned someone else, someone who visited Cernavodă in an official capacity. Like a contractor or an IAEA inspector, for example.”
“Whoever did it is long gone,” Patrick McLanahan said tonelessly. “Either conveniently dead… or hidden away in Russia, far beyond our reach.”
“Probably so,” Martindale conceded. “I’ve ordered a Scion security team to work with the Romanian police to narrow down the list of possible suspects. But it’s not real likely that we’ll ever get our hands on whoever planted that malware.”
Wilk scowled. “Then how do we prove the Russians were responsible for this catastrophe?”
“We can’t,” Martindale said bluntly. “At least not clearly enough to sway international opinion if it comes down to a United Nations pissing match between us and Moscow.” He shook his head in regret. “The code my experts have analyzed has similarities to malware they’ve seen before — to viruses created by a Russian hacker group called Advanced Persistent Threat 28, or ATP 28. But—”
“But these computer criminals often share their techniques and secrets with others around the world,” Nadia Rozek said. “So such a similarity would not be sufficient evidence.” Her eyes were ice-cold. “Not for President Barbeau and the other weaklings afraid to stand up to the Russians.”
Martindale nodded. His own expression was equally bleak. He turned to the others. “Whether or not we can prove it is pretty much beside the point. What’s more important is that this cyberwar attack on Cernavodă was perfectly planned and executed. And if Brad hadn’t been close enough to intervene with a working CID, we’d be overwhelmed right now trying to deal with the physical and political fallout from a radioactive plume spreading across Europe on the wind. You can bet that millions of people would have been hightailing it away from Romania as refugees.”
“The danger would not have justified so much panic,” Nadia said stubbornly. “The accidents at Chernobyl and Fukushima showed that any significant damage would have been limited to those areas within thirty or forty kilometers of the plant.”
“Maybe so,” Martindale agreed. “But most folks aren’t logical. Scientific studies don’t carry much weight when they run up against generations of ‘nuclear bogeyman’ scare tactics.” He shrugged. “As it is, we were fortunate Brad was in the right place at the right time.”
“Sure,” Macomber said. “Trouble is, now we’re down one of the new CIDs we needed to bolster our forces. That robot is basically fried. Hell, just about every system is shot. To get the thing back up and running, we’re practically going to have to rebuild every piece, from the actuators on up.” He shot Brad a wry look. “No offense, kid, but you’re hard as hell on expensive gear.”
Brad did his best to look sorry. “Yeah, Whack, that is a bad habit. And it’s one I’m trying real hard to break.”
“No sweat, Brad,” Macomber said more seriously. “Pain in the ass though you often are, I’m glad you came through in one piece. CIDs I can replace. Good pilots are a heck of a lot tougher to find.”
Half listening to the two Iron Wolf officers banter, Wilk stared down at the table, gathering his thoughts. At last, he looked up at Martindale. “If we cannot prove that what happened at Cernavodă was a Russian attack, is there any point to announcing that the reactor was deliberately sabotaged?”
“Officially? Probably not, Piotr,” the American said slowly. “That would only raise questions we can’t answer right now.” He allowed himself a quick, sly grin. “But we could leak the suggestion to some friendly journalists, off the record. God knows the broader public loves conspiracy theories. And even the hint that what happened was Moscow’s fault might buy Dumitru and his government a little breathing room.”
Wilk nodded. For months, Russian propaganda outlets — both official and unofficial — had been flooding the airwaves and the Internet with all kinds of wild stories about “warmongering Poland” and its “bloodthirsty, piratical mercenaries.” Giving Gryzlov and his minions a taste of their own medicine couldn’t hurt.
“But what if this was not just a single act of sabotage?” Nadia asked. Her mouth tightened into a thin line. “What if Cernavodă was merely the first salvo in a new Russian war against us? A war waged with computers rather than tanks and aircraft?”
“That, Major Rozek, is the billion-dollar question,” Martindale said. He looked somberly around the table. “My guess is that we’re not going to have to wait long to find out.”
FIVE
Listening to Gennadiy Gryzlov preach at her over a secure video link with Moscow, U.S. president Stacy Anne Barbeau blessed the decades she had spent smiling winsomely at men she secretly despised. For years, she’d schemed, flirted, and backstabbed her way up through the ranks of American politics — serving in the U.S. Senate, as secretary of state, and now as president. Washington was littered with the still-breathing political corpses of rivals and former allies she’d first charmed, then outmaneuvered, and finally dumped by the wayside.
There was a time, she admitted to herself, when the younger Russian president’s rugged good looks would have turned her on. But not anymore. Not since last year, when his threats and crazed nuclear saber rattling had pushed her into a corner, forcing her to choose between the safety and security of the United States and her personal pride.
She didn’t regret seeing Poland and the other Eastern and central European countries drop out of NATO. In her view, letting them into the American-led alliance after the collapse of the Soviet Union in the first place had been a huge mistake — one that virtually guaranteed continued conflict with Russia and threatened U.S. interests without any concomitant gain. But the way NATO fractured had made her look bad, and it had hurt her politically here at home, where right-wing hawks were always circling… looking for any excuse to bash her as a weak-kneed woman.
Someday she would find a way to stick a shiv in Gennadiy Gryzlov, she thought silently. Someone so arrogant and self-assured was bound to give her an opening, sooner or later. For now, though, she concentrated on hiding her seething anger behind a diplomatic mask of polite attention.