“You’re forgetting about me,” said Jana Shadid, the team’s chief engineer responsible for creating Black’s favorite espionage tools.
“I didn’t forget about you,” Black said, “because you’ve been on vacation. And it’s our tradition on this team that you bring us something. To be honest, I was hoping for something nice from Hawaii.”
Jana’s head dropped and she covered her face with her hands.
“Rookie mistake,” Blunt said. “We’ll forgive you once Black gets me that vodka. Now, let’s get down to business because we have a lot to discuss, starting with an update on what we found on DarkNite’s computer. Shields?”
“Thank you, sir,” Shields said as she stood. Grabbing the remote for the powerpoint, she started clicking through slides and talking about the treasure trove of data she was able to harvest from DarkNite’s machine before it stopped transmitting.
Shields explained how she was able to verify that it was the DarkNite’s computer since she found code he’d written that matched with other viruses he wrote and infected systems with. She then discussed the type of project he’d been working on, one that was planning on being launched in the U.S.
“How do you know DarkNite was going to unleash this on us?” Blunt asked.
“I found an email that he likely believed was encrypted,” she said, “but he got a little sloppy and it was easily cracked. The time-and-date stamp was about two months ago, but the anticipated launch date of the cyberattack is two days from today.”
“What kind of attack is it?” Jana asked.
“It’s a program that infects servers and shuts down certain programs intermittently, making it difficult to find the malicious code,” she said. “The programs will come back online in a matter of minutes, but being able to pinpoint the location of the code and extract it will be a monumental challenge, not to mention it will also duplicate itself and hide elsewhere in the system. That way even if you remove the code, the same problem will return and in greater force. It would be an unending task until you were able to develop a program to capture it and delete it and its offspring.”
“This sounds like an episode of Star Trek I once saw,” Blunt said. “It was called ‘The Trouble with Tribbles.’ These little furry creatures kept reproducing so fast that they started to take over the ship.”
“That explains why this virus is called ‘tribbles,’” Shields said.
Blunt bit down hard on his cigar. “What industries could be hurt the worst from this?”
“There’s no industry that wouldn’t have a difficult time with this, though it’d be more costly to some than others. It’d be brutal on the server farms, the financial sector, traffic control systems on the ground and in the air, the power grid. Really anything could be ravaged by this virus.”
“But we’ve stopped it, right?” Blunt asked.
Shields sucked in a breath through her teeth. “That’s what I’m not sure about at this point. The virus may have already been launched but was supposed to begin its attacks in three days. Or it was to be embedded in three days’ time. I can’t really say for sure at this point.”
Black shifted in his seat. “Is there a way to identify it within the next three days?”
“It’d take a legion of programmers to identify this,” she said, “but there’s a danger in this since we don’t know completely how it will react once activated. Everything I’m telling you is speculation on my part based on what I know. But it could be even more malicious than I’m predicting it’ll be.”
“I don’t think sitting back and waiting for this to be unleashed is a good strategy,” Black said.
“That makes two of us,” Blunt said. “Shields, I want you to deliver all of this information to the CIA and the NSA. I’ll make a few calls to see if the directors of those two organizations can put some of their best people on this and stop it before it begins.”
“I’ll do it right away, sir,” Shields said before scooping up her documents and scurrying out of the room.
Black stroked his chin. “There is another urgent matter we need to discuss, and that’s asylum for Kozlov and his wife.”
“Are they here?” Blunt asked.
Black shook his head. “They’re at a safe house right now, but I think we need to consider whether or not this is a good idea.”
“What do you think about Kozlov?” Blunt asked.
Black shrugged. “He’s a nice guy. I mean, the CIA tried to tear him to shreds, but he stayed consistent with his story. As far as I can tell, it checks out too. We went to DarkNite’s home and found all this information on his computer that we’ve verified was him. So, it seems to me that the CIA was wrong.”
“He’s not even a hacker?” Jana asked.
“I think he dabbles in it but is more of a broker. However, his wife writes code and works as a digital forensics expert,” Black said.
“She might be just the person I’m looking for,” Blunt said.
“What for?”
Blunt updated Black on Congresswoman Dixon’s case and how they didn’t have much time to prove her innocence before she’d suffer an unjust fate.
“So, you want Kozlov’s wife to dig into this for you?” Black asked.
Blunt nodded. “We don’t have much time. Let’s get going.”
As everyone got up, Jana asked Black and Shields to stay behind.
Once the room was cleared, Black asked Jana what she needed.
“Actually, I do have a present for the two of you,” Jana said.
Shields’ eyes lit up. “A present? For me?”
“Well, yes, I guess it’s more for you than for Agent Black,” Jana said, producing a device the size of a ring box from her pocket.
“What’s it do?” Black asked.
“You plug it into a computer port and it’ll crack the password,” Jana said.
“How in the world?” Shields asked, studying the object closely.
“That’s my secret,” she said. “But if you plug it in, it’ll allow you to get into any protected computer bypassing the password.”
“This is solid gold,” Black said, especially for someone like me. “I sure could’ve used this in Turkey.”
Jana nodded and smiled. “Well, now you don’t have to worry about it anymore, especially if Shields isn’t around and can’t help you.”
“Excellent work,” Shields said, still inspecting the device. “This is incredible.”
“I just hope you get to use it soon.”
* * *
BLUNT BREEZED PAST the agents guarding Sergei Kozlov and his wife Katarina. She greeted Blunt and Black with a warm smile as she eased out of her chair.
“Please, don’t get up,” Blunt said. “We don’t want to trouble you, at least in that way.”
Kozlov stood and shook the hands of the two Americans before sitting down next to his wife.
“How is it looking on our asylum case?” Kozlov asked.
Blunt sat down and placed the laptop on the coffee table. “The CIA is still investigating, trying to determine how they made a mistake about you.”
“DarkNite is—was—one of the best hackers in the world, maybe of all time,” Kozlov said.
“Yes, and the fact that you corroborated with him and other hackers isn’t sitting well with the CIA,” Blunt said.
“Now, Agent Black here has told me that you were incredibly helpful during the effort to capture DarkNite,” Blunt said. “If it hadn’t been for you, the operation would’ve been a huge failure.”
“That has to be worth something, doesn’t it?” Katarina asked while rubbing her belly.
“How much is what I’m trying to figure out,” Blunt said. “However, Katarina, I hear that you’re a digital forensics expert yourself. Is that true?”
“That’s what I tell people. I’ve been a freelance developer for a long time, but I have a set of special skills that people like yourself sometimes like to utilize.”
“What kind of special skills are we
talking about?” Blunt asked.
“I can uncover things that are hidden, identifying digital footprints, if you will,” she said.
Blunt gnawed on his cigar and thought for a moment. “That might be worth something more to the agency, if you’re willing to offer your services for a period of time.”
“I am great with child, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said. “So, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this before I must focus on my baby. But I’m willing to help however I can.”
Blunt nodded at the laptop on the coffee table. “As a trial run, I’m interested in seeing just how good you are.”
“Sure,” she said. “What do you need?”
Blunt opened the computer and explained to her what he needed in general terms. He showed her the folder containing all the files that Norton had given him relating to Congresswoman Dixon’s case. The three men excused themselves to the dining room to allow Katarina to work in peace with only the watchful eye of the CIA agents to monitor her.
“Thank you so much,” Kozlov said to Blunt. “Agent Black was kind and understanding of my situation. I know he had orders to return me to the agency that didn’t look like this, but I promise you that the right man is dead.”
“I appreciate your candor, and I’m sorry about any discomfort your detention may have caused you and your wife,” Blunt said. “I’m sure you can understand why given the limited information that we had.”
Kozlov nodded. “It’ll all be forgiven if you can help us get asylum.”
“We’re doing our best, but unfortunately, it’s not my decision to make.”
The three men talked for another half-hour before Katarina returned to the room with the laptop in her hand.
Blunt’s eyes widened. “Are you finished?”
She nodded. “I believe so.”
“What did you find?” Blunt asked.
“I was able to identify the date of the transaction and prove that it was changed. I also traced the origins of this cyber attack to The Siberian Collective, an underground agency based in St. Petersburg. Coincidentally, they have strong ties to DarkNite.”
“Now, that’s good work,” Blunt said. “And not at all what I expected to hear.”
“That should confirm what we told you,” Kozlov said. “DarkNite was the one who was the real threat to the U.S., not me.”
Blunt nodded. “I appreciate this. I’ll pass this information along to the people who are making this decision and see if they are now willing to grant you asylum.”
Blunt and Black exited the safe house and didn’t speak until they got back to their car.
“Well, what was your read on that situation?” Blunt asked.
“It sure helps you figure out your little predicament with Dixon, but it doesn’t confirm anything for us. I’m naturally cynical about everyone, even Kozlov, despite the fact that I like him.”
“I need to let Besserman know about this development,” Blunt said. “If someone is hiring these folks to target our own government official and blackmail them out of office, the agency needs to know about it.”
Black nodded. “Agreed.”
Blunt dialed Besserman’s number and filled him in on the recent development with Kozlov and his wife. Besserman said he’d look over the paperwork but would agree in principle to let Kozlov and his wife attain asylum in the U.S. but they would be placed in the witness protection program and given new identities.
“I doubt they’ll argue with that stipulation,” Blunt said.
As they continued discussing the details, Besserman stopped in the middle of his sentence and blurted out a few expletives.
“What’s going on?” Blunt asked.
“The power just went out here. You experiencing anything like that where you’re at?”
“I’m in a car right now, so we’re fine,” Blunt said as he rounded a corner.
But instead of rolling up on an intersection, he hit the brakes and skidded to a stop amidst mass hysteria in the streets. Cars were turned sideways. Other cars appeared to be t-boned by other motorists. One man was standing on top of the hood of his car, shouting at an entire line of vehicles trying to get through an intersection.
“I take that back,” Blunt said. “Complete chaos where we’re at. The traffic lights aren’t working, and it looks like everyone decided to go at the same time at full speed through the intersection.”
“Call me when you get back to the office,” Besserman said. “I need to figure out what’s happening right now.”
“Is everything all right?” Black asked.
Blunt shook his head. “I think the timeline has moved up.”
CHAPTER 30
Washington, D.C.
PRESIDENT YOUNG ENTERED the situation room with cabinet members and military leaders to discuss how to address the rolling power outages all across the country. With the new Defense Oversight Bill already signed into law, Young’s options were limited. Labeling a systemic failure of the power grid as terrorism without proof meant he had to wait for a legitimate reason that could stand up in court to show that this was indeed an emergency induced by foreign actors. But at the moment, he could barely reach anyone to discuss how to handle the issue.
Young glanced over a report handed to him by one of his aides before he tossed the papers down on the conference room table. “Can you just summarize what all this says?”
“Basically, it’s an aggregate report from what’s going on across the country right now,” the man said. “Right now, lines of communication are so strained that cell towers are falling out due to the lack of power, creating large pockets of dead zones. Landlines still work in most places, but you know how many people actually use landlines now?”
Young shook his head and leaned back in his chair.
“I want some videos, some reports from people on the ground, first-hand accounts of how this power outage is wreaking havoc on our country,” Young said.
“Gathering data is difficult right now,” said Rachel Geller, the Secretary of State. “We have power here, but we can’t access the databases. Those storage facilities where the servers are located still have power, but they aren’t able to get onto the Internet, if that makes sense.”
Young turned to Victor Jackson, the U.S. Secretary of Defense. “Are we under attack?”
“It’s hard to say who’s doing this, sir,” Jackson said. “This could be the work of outside interference, it could be a complete collapse of the power grid in this country, or it could be some hackers taking our entire system on a joy ride. At this point, we can’t be sure.”
“Can anyone in this room be sure of anything right now?” Young said before slapping the table with his hand. “In chaotic times, the people look to us for answers.”
“Of course they do, Mr. President,” Jackson said. “However, there’s nothing in our orientation manuals on how to navigate wide-scale outages in an era where people have become so dependent upon electronic devices. We can handle natural disasters just fine, but this is foreign to everyone in this room.”
“I know,” Young said as he narrowed his eyes and set his jaw. “We’re leaders, so we need to lead, right now. We’re going to come up with something to help us get through this.”
Young turned toward Jackson. “Is there any way we can activate states to mobilize their national guards?”
“To do what, sir?” Jackson asked. “Losing power doesn’t mean that everyone is going to die. We’ll have to navigate.”
Before Young had a chance to respond, the lights came back on. Staffers started calling different leaders—governors, military generals, police chiefs, mayors, hospital presidents—any and everybody who could give them a fuller assessment of the fallout from losing power for the past hour. A collective sigh went up from the room. Everyone was relieved that the emergency was short-lived.
Then the stories started rolling in.
Some downtown areas had been looted by the masses, entire storefront shops strip
ped clean in some areas. Fires had broken out in some cities. Traffic was gridlocked in most places, too. Hospitals were reaching capacity as the injured and sick hobbled into emergency rooms to receive medical assistance. And television stations that had the ability to reach a large number of people remained offline.
“If this doesn’t constitute an emergency, I don’t know what does,” Young roared.
“It’s an emergency, but not the kind that gives you the sweeping powers you need right now,” Jackson said. “You can authorize FEMA to get involved in these areas and provide medicines as well as supply people with food. You can also initiate a process for people to start receiving financial assistance. But when it comes to doing something that matters, that ship sailed when you signed the Defense Oversight Bill.”
“One line crammed into that bill has essentially neutered me?” Young asked, still in disbelief. “Forget it. I’m going to do it anyway.
“Sir, need I remind you that your tenure could be a short one if you try to make an unconstitutional move,” said Young’s chief of staff, Warren Woods. “Instead, use this to put the blame on the other party standing in opposition to you.”
“I don’t want to play politics with the lives of American people, Warren. This is a serious matter that demands my action. And I want to figure out a way to do something right now.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Jackson said, “but until we can prove that this is an intentional act of war committed by either terrorists or by actors from a foreign nation, your hands are tied.”
“Damn it,” Young said. “Somebody get me my car. I’m going to speak with some people who can actually get something done.”
Young was whisked upstairs by members of the Secret Service and ushered to his limo. When he stepped outside, he heard sirens wailing in the distance and more car horns than usual resounding throughout the city. As they tried to move through the traffic that was at a near standstill, Young saw large plumes of smoke towering over the city.
What the hell is happening?
CHAPTER 31
Washington, D.C.
Power Play (Titus Black Thriller series Book 7) Page 15
