“Kindly find attached software patch PRX20-INT-101. This is a priority stand-alone patch with no dependencies. It fixes internally discovered software issue INT-101. Install immediately. Kindly requesting to carefully follow all below mentioned instructions and attachments, having firstly read through them, further to standard practices.
… etc. etc…
…in case of doubts kindly revert.”
He paused to think. It was clever that they had made it seem like it fixed an internal issue and not any issue the bank had discovered. “Priority” and “stand-alone” sounded good too. Fewer questions for the bank’s testing team to ask.
So, it seemed they had finally understood what he would be capable of doing – Operation Zima was what he had hoped for. He would have to install this software, which would harm the bank somehow. But was that good enough? His intention all along was to trigger revolution and destroy capitalism. Was Oldhams quite as important as that? Of course, it was his own enthusiastic messages that had signalled to them it was, but perhaps he had been over-optimistic. Now the software was right here on this USB stick, things felt different. He wasn’t prepared to risk his neck just to cause some inconvenience to one medium-sized bank, albeit a private bank that held the assets of some very wealthy people. Then again, whatever this was going to do, he had no one to complain to, or seek confirmation from. Mitchell was dead. He could send a message asking for help, but the message cycle took months. In any case, help had never been part of the plan.
Why on earth did they need him anyway? he wondered. The instructions didn’t explain any of that. He was annoyed at how little the instructions explained. He had been left to guess at what was going on.
But then he decided he was just making excuses to himself. Now that the plan was a reality, it was suddenly more frightening than he had anticipated. He continued to read carefully. When at last he turned to the final page of instructions, something caused him to frown.
At the bottom of the page in bold, enclosed in a red text box, was an advert for water-damaged rugs. Above the box was a note in large, bold text:
“Publish this advert in the usual way. Do not wait for the next date in the cycle. Publish immediately, with no alterations.”
Why would he have to do that? And did they expect him to copy this into the paper without even knowing what it said?
He spent thirty minutes decrypting the message hidden in the advert. It read:
“Continuing with plan as stated. Contact now only required if Ocyen or Vesna.”
He sat back and stared in disbelief at what he had decrypted. There should be no need for this message. What was going on? What on earth was this supposed to achieve?
Above all, why would Mitchell ask him to use code words, albeit encrypted, in his message? Perhaps it would be safer, now that he had the software, and now that Mitchell was dead, not to send any more messages at all?
But he had no choice. It was an instruction from his handler. He had to follow whatever instructions he was given. He logged in to his Evening Times account and bought a full-page advert for water-damaged rugs, for sale to trade only.
◆◆◆
Richard remembered Eddie’s prophetic words. He hoped they weren’t true:
“The thing is, push comes to shove, you won’t have the bottle, Richard. It won’t be as easy as you think.”
