Free Matt Drake 11 - The Ghost Ships of Arizona by David Leadbeater

lost, buried. They would never find you.”
    “And that’s why the ships are so scary.” Karin nodded in understanding.
    The old man looked at her through slitted eyes. “No, young lady. They’re scary because at night, when it’s full dark, they creep, they loom, they threaten and sneak. They haunt the desert, Miss, and if you don’t respect them they will spirit you away forever to your doom.”
     

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
     
    Hayden snatched a moment with Mano, taking him out onto the balcony as Dahl spoke to his wife inside their suite. Her purpose was manifold, but first she wanted to reassure him.
    “We’ll get past all this,” she said. “The Pythians. Webb. The stalkings. Even Kono, I hope. We’re strong, Mano. Stronger even than that new body armor we’re trialing.”
    “Speaking of trialing—how did you find the new Sig?”
    Hayden made a happy face. “Kick ass.”
    “Sure. Me too. And we’ve sure had our canoes sunk more times than I can count lately,” Kinimaka said figuratively and looked down at her. “Do you think the Pythians have much more in the tank?”
    “Not if we cane their asses this time,” Hayden said. “They can recruit more leaders by the dozen, by the hundred, it doesn’t matter. Webb is gonna explode big time.”
    “Which I for one want to see.”
    “We will.”
    “Together.”
    “Together.”
    Hayden held the big Hawaiian tight, pressing herself into his body. In an odd way, standing as they were exposed on the balcony, she felt less scrutinized than in her own street and home. And safer than in her own state and government buildings.
    Webb’s puppet string ran twisted and extensively.
    Kinimaka winked more than a little suggestively, his hand hovering lower than was appropriate at that moment. “Maybe we could . . .”
    Hayden wriggled a little. “Ooh, Mano.”
    “Not being under surveillance and all that maybe we could be a bit more . . . experimental?”
    Hayden closed her eyes in anticipation. “Mano!”
    Dahl, standing right beside them, then spoke up. “I’d save your energy, pal. I’m sure you’ll need it soon. What have you learned of the Z-boxes, Hayden?”
    She had spent the last few hours liaising with their team back in DC who were carefully decoding their only device. Of course, it was a clever piece of Chinese engineering and nobody wanted to be responsible for breaking it.
    “It’s at least as bad as we feared. They are intricate code-cracking machines, able to extrapolate complex cipher strings and encryptions in minutes, but even they have their limitations, we think. Much of the time—unless they’re decoding basic stuff like public passwords, email accounts or hacking computers—they’ll need a base hardwire from which to hook in.”
    “Do we think that’s why they hit San Jose?”
    “Probably.” Hayden shrugged. “It’s the best guess so far.”
    “But what could they possibly have stolen to help with that?” Kinimaka said.
    “Maybe nothing,” Hayden said. “Maybe they left something behind. On a server. We have a team inbound.”
    “And Beau told us three substations would be attacked. So maybe they need more data first, or whatever.”
    “Beau also told us the wrong friggin’ substation,” Hayden said irritably. “But I do agree. We’re putting together a list of places they’re most likely to hit next.”
    “And by next . . .” Dahl’s big hands clenched with a sense of impotence.
    “Yeah, I mean now. Today. Tomorrow.”
    “The geeks in DC,” Hayden said quietly. “They’re worried this is an Aurora Vulnerability situation.”
    “Sounds bad.”
    “Worse than bad. Back in ’07 Idaho University discovered that within the United States’ electrical grid system there exists a vulnerability to cyber-attack, a vulnerability that could result in the destruction of essential components. It found that any attacker who can gain access—the hardest part—could communicate with the device, control it, or use the