Typhoon Fury (Oregon Files 12)

“Two minutes.”

“You mean we’re going to lose the data?”

“Not if I can help it. Hali, get the NSA team on the line.”

Hali tapped on his workstation. “On speaker.”

Max had the urge to ask what Murph was doing, but he didn’t want to be a distraction. If Murph thought he had a solution, Max trusted him.

With a flourish, Murph finished typing. “Done! Abby, the link is established.”

From the hold, Abby Yamada said, “Thanks. We’ve nearly doubled the processing speed. It’s cranking through the possibilities now.”

“Okay,” Murph said. “Let me know if it works.”

“What did you do?” Max asked.

Murph swiveled in his chair to face him. “When we installed their supercomputer in the hold, we added some compatibility software to our Cray so we could test the linkage to our power system. With the connection already made, I just had to hand over control of our computer to theirs so they could draw on its power to crack the password.”

“Will that affect our systems?” Linda asked.

“Nothing vital,” he said with a grin, “but the Internet may be slow if you’re looking to download any videos.”

Max leaned forward. “How will this affect the time to decipher the data?”

“Hard to say. But the minutes we’ve spent cracking the password are delaying the data decryption.”

“Then we might not have as much time as we thought.” Max looked at Linda. “We’ll have to chance them seeing us. Take us within three-quarters of a mile of the coast.”

“Aye, aye,” she said, an old Navy habit, and the Oregon edged closer to the coast.

The plan for the mission wasn’t to steal the flash drive. The goal was to download the data on it and get it back to the Chinese without them knowing it had been read. Learning the identities of the undercover MSS agents operating in the U.S. would be a major intelligence coup, but if the Chinese knew their agents were compromised, they’d pull them out or shut them down. The few that were captured and interrogated might reveal some useful information, but the real value would be lost. The Chinese would send in new agents, and the cat-and-mouse game would start all over.

But if they could return the flash drive without them knowing it had been read, the Chinese would think the identities of their agents were secure. Then the NSA, FBI, and CIA could not only track their movements and conversations but could feed false information to the Chinese for years. It was a dream scenario for U.S. intelligence, which was the reason for the highly risky, off-the-books operation.

While they waited for news from the NSA people, Gomez was able to get the observation drone close enough to see Linc’s distinctive form clamping something onto a hose linking the seventh car to the one behind it. Max could see flashes of gunfire coming from the eighth car. The train was approaching yet another tunnel.

“Put Juan on speaker,” Max said.

“You’ve got him,” Hali said.

The sound of gunshots came through the speakers.

“Everybody okay?” Max asked.

“No casualties,” Juan replied, “but we’re trying to even the odds a little.”

“I can see Linc working on Plan C.”

“We’re about to say good-bye to three of the MSS agents.”

“Anything we can do to help?”

“Let us know if there’s anyone hanging out a window.”

“You got it.”

On-screen, MacD leaned out and handed a gray block to Linc, who stretched his long arms and mashed it against the coupling. He pulled himself back in and gave a thumbs-up before he disappeared from view.