Counting from Zero (35 page)

Mick was up and about before Kateryna stirred.
 
He again dressed in the strange – for him – clothes.
 
He found them unsettling.
 
Mick thought he didn’t care much about clothes, but he was beginning to realize that perhaps he did care.

Are my clothes my armor against the world, another layer of security? Or is my life cosplay?

He wondered if he could get used to wearing clothes besides his ‘uniform’ in the future.

When Kateryna awoke, she sat up on her elbows and smiled up at him – her dark hair disheveled.
 
Looking at her, Mick realized he didn’t seem to tire of spending time with this amazing woman.

As they reached the border with Ukraine, the train stopped and reversed direction, heading into a literal sidetrack.
 
Kateryna looked out the window, alarmed.

“Don’t worry: we are just shunting so the train’s wheels can be changed – the countries of the former Soviet Union do not use the standard rail gauge of 1.435m used throughout Europe, but instead use 1.524m.”
 
Kateryna looked surprised.
 
“I remember my cousins in Australia saying how in the old days, train travelers between Sydney and Melbourne had to change trains at the border town of Albury, as the states of Victoria and New South Wales used different rail widths,” he explained.
 
He was about to pontificate about the value of standards when he noticed that Kateryna was already back reading her book.

Mick had been ignoring most of his mail since leaving London, but he couldn’t ignore one from Liz.
 
It had a
Subject: I know you are with Kat
.
 
He opened it, feeling nervous:

Mick,

I hope you can forgive me for writing, but I couldn’t sit here and say nothing.
 
I knew the second time I saw the two of you together that something was going to happen between you.
 
I also knew it didn’t happen in Vegas, but it was obvious to me the day before you left London that you were planning something, and when you both inexplicably disappeared, well...
 
Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else knows your little secret, but that’s because they are blind to these things.

I don’t want to interfere, but I will anyway.
 
I am just so worried about you – I know you don’t have casual affairs, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what Kat is up to, running off with you like this.
 
I am presuming that it was her idea and you are just going along with it to see where it leads.
 
Please, please be careful.

Do you really know what she is after?
 
Do we really know her that well? I don’t mean to slight you at all – you are an intriguing, attractive guy, but...

OK, I will stop here.
 
I hope we can still be friends after this is over – your friendship has always meant a lot to me, Mick, and I would be very, very sorry to lose it.
 
I just want you to know that you have friends who care about you and will do anything for you.

I also won’t expect to hear back from you, wherever you are...
 
Just take care, Mick...
 
See you again soon.

Yours,

Liz

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He read and re-read the message a few times, not quite knowing what to make of it.
 
He couldn’t recall Liz ever writing such a note.
 
He resolved to tell Kateryna about the mail, but later.

Had Liz sent a similar note to Kat as well?

He looked at her as she sat across the compartment from him as she read.
 
His thoughts were interrupted by their arrival into Kiev.

They cleared customs and immigration without any problems, although Mick got an elbow in the ribs from Kateryna when she caught him staring at the customs officers.
 
They were not your usual government bureaucrats; they were all young women, and their uniforms consisted of extremely short, tight skirts and stiletto heels.

At the instant when one of the blonde women stamped both passports, Mick wondered how Kateryna was going to explain the stamps to her husband.
 
Mick noted that their passports had been scanned this time – the first time since leaving England.
 
If any governments or agents were tracking them, they would know where they were now.
 
Both he and Kateryna had been ignoring their social network since they left London.
 
Liz’s note had reminded him how much discussion and speculation might be now starting about each of them, or worse, about the both of them.

They found a small hotel a short walk from the station that was cheap but clean, and Mick had a good wireless signal there after replacing SIM cards yet again.
 
At the hotel, he registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Petrescu while Kateryna looked on.
 
Mick’s signature on the register was a very good facsimile of Milos Petrescu’s.
 
He had thought it would be difficult for him to assume this new identity, but it wasn’t.
 
In a way, didn’t he do something similar every day of his life?

While Kateryna showered, Mick set out to rent a vehicle.
 
He returned just over an hour later, finding parking on the street nearby.
 
Mick then showered quickly and was ready for the day.

Mick got out one of Kateryna’s digital cameras and verified its impressive digital zoom.
 
He cut a small, unobtrusive hole in the side of a small backpack he had bought so the camera could film without being taken out of the bag.

Leading Kateryna to their rental, Mick walked down the stairs carrying his computer and the camera bag.
 
Out on the street and down a block, he stopped to get the key out of his pocket.

“So, where is it?
 
The Škoda?” Kateryna asked looking for the vehicle.
 
Mick was impressed by her knowledge of car makes
 
– the little car in front of them was a Škoda, manufactured in the Czech republic, but it had taken more than a glance for him to confirm this fact.

“No, that’s not it,” he replied, trying not to smile.

“Which one then?” she asked looking around at other cars nearby.
 
“Wait, it isn’t...
 
you DIDN’T!” she replied, looking closer.

“Yep.
 
You don’t really mind, do you?
 
It was a great deal and –” he began, now smiling.

“You rented a motorbike instead of a car?
 
Are you insane?”

“Yes and no – there are lots of bikes here – you must have noticed, so we won’t stand out.
 
And the weather is going to be fine the next few days – no rain...
 
or snow.”

“Can’t you focus on the job at hand?
 
How are we going to navigate?
 
How will we talk?” she replied, getting more annoyed with each passing moment.
 
“This isn’t one of your brightest ideas!”

“Look, Kat.
 
It will be fine.
 
My mobile will speak the directions to me, and I have a backup earpiece for my mobile that you can wear in your helmet so we can talk,” he explained.
 
Kateryna’s annoyance abated, or perhaps she decided that to continue their argument in English here on the street wasn’t such a good idea.

“Fine – give me my helmet,” she replied, holding out her hand.
 
Mick grinned triumphantly, but then wondered if he might pay for this later.

“Here’s a key for you – in case you need to get something out of the panniers,” he said, handing her a key.
 
She took it in silence.

Mick opened up the pannier bags on the back of the bike and got out the full-face helmets he had rented along with the bike.
 
It was a blue late model Honda CBR 125 – quite a bit smaller than his usual sport bike, but perfectly adequate.
 
He just hoped Ukrainian weather predictions were accurate...

Navigating through the streets was not difficult, and Mick felt quite comfortable on the bike.
 
At first, having Kateryna’s arms around his waist and her legs up against his was distracting, but it quickly felt normal.
 
She also seemed at ease, leaned with him in corners, and was otherwise a model pillion passenger.
 
He wondered if perhaps she had done this before.

Mick stopped a few blocks from the address Jasinski had
provided,
just close enough to see the main entrance of the building and the two floors of windowed offices.
 
There weren’t any parking places, but he didn’t need one for the bike – he rode up on the sidewalk and parked next to two other motorcycles.
 
Switching off the engine, Mick sent Kateryna to go for a walk up the street and reconnoiter.
 
He got out the camera bag and turned on the camera, setting it for maximum zoom.
 
With the bag resting casually on the seat of the motorbike, he filmed the street and the front of the building while he pretended to talk on his mobile.

Kateryna reported back a few minutes later.

“Inside the building, I saw a receptionist and a security guard, judging by his physique.
 
I could see a few workers in the offices upstairs, but most offices look empty.
 
Here’s what the sign out front says,” she paused and showed him a word she had copied on a piece of paper.
 
‘Облако 8++’ means ‘Cloud 8++’ in Russian which is kind of funny, given that their P2P software is a type of a ‘cloud computing’ application… and, of course, eight plus plus means eight incremented by one, or nine!”

“You know Russian?” he asked her in surprise.

“Yes – I studied it in school back in Romania.”

“Don’t people speak Ukrainian here in Ukraine?” Mick asked.

“Yes, but lots speak Russian as well.
 
Business, especially software development, uses almost exclusively Russian.
 
Anyway, there is a small loading dock in the rear of the building, but I’d say it isn’t used much.
 
Besides the street parking, there seems to be a small garage on the other side.
 
There’s also a coffee shop one block up.”

“Good work, Kat!
 
This will work nicely.
 
I’m going to ride past, park, and set up in the coffee shop.
 
You should do a long block and meet me there in a few minutes,” he replied.
 
She nodded and began walking in the opposite direction.

Mick slid his helmet back on and pushed the start button on the handlebars.
 
The CBR came to life.
 
He walked it down to the road,
then
set off, cruising slowly past the office.
 
There was nothing special about this office, except that the programmers working there had created the
world’s
largest and most dangerous botnet – with some help from Jasinski, and perhaps someone else, he amended.

Mick parked on the sidewalk again, locked up the helmets, took out his computer and set off for the coffee shop.
 
He was amazed at how similar it felt to other coffee houses he had visited all over the world.
 
While the homogenization of the world through multinational brands and chains was well documented and lamented, this was the other side of the same coin.
 
He ordered lattes and took a seat at a table by the window where he could see all the comings and goings from the building.