favorite lunch, macaroni and cheese kicked around her plate, listless elbows sliding in a cheddar sauce.
Suddenly she pushed away from the Formica cafeteria table, and rushed back to her desk. She had to search, that was it! Find the people. She plopped down at her desk, twisting the monitor to the ‘secret’ angle, a contorted feat not easily achieved in her tight cube.
She stood up, peering over the dividers and projected her words. “I’ve gotta hunker down this afternoon and get something done, so please don’t bother me too much, ok?”
Andrea knew she could get quite focused. Her mother Irene, frequently pointed out to Andrea that she would dive into one project after another, disappearing into her room to read a book, or out in the back of the garden making nests for tree frogs. Andrea’s mother always said that whatever Andrea focused her attention on, sooner or later it would win out against people, food, and even sleep. Andrea of course agreed. She remembered how she would frequently run to the bathroom swearing under her breath because it took too much time and she had better things to do.
Given her nature, since Melbox, Andrea kept her second drawer freshly supplied with candy bars for those frequent emergencies when actual meals were too great a distraction.
She looked around the office for a response. Her words were returned with silence. She sat down and put on some earphones.
Now her fingers clicked on keys, windows opened and lines of text flew by. First she opened the email archive after breaking into the company Exchange server. Sure the IT Dept would be pissed, but they’d never need to know. She smiled. She clicked to launch a search pattern on the emails. It would look for references to Beehive, or anything like it. With that running, Andrea squeezed her knees together. This next one would be just a little bit bad. She enabled a word recognition program on the voicemail system. That was trivial, since some idiot added the feature during a system upgrade last year, not that she could think of a reason why that was a good idea. Well, until now. Automatic emails of everyone’s voicemails.
As she worked, she noted what she’d done so she could undo it before long. Best not get caught. This wasn’t really totally against the rules, but then, better no one knew, right? As she worked, Andrea slipped into her college persona of a hacker. The swashbuckling hero of the little guy who could break into anything, take any data and get away, no one knowing a thing. It felt exhilarating.
“Hey!”
The word dimly broke through her concentration, almost unrecognized in the din of Robbie Williams, this amazing singer that a friend of hers in London had turned her on to. “He lives in Los Angeles you know,” the friend had said at the time. Go away.
“Andrea. Earth to Andrea.”
A hand reached out to shake her shoulder.
“Yes?” she said, looking up and slipping one ear out of the headphones.
It was Joseph. “I need the quarterly report on EMEA distribution. When can you get it to me?” The words tumbled out quickly. “Oh, and…” He smiled with embarrassment. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. You? Should be able to get it to you tomorrow or the day after.” She looked back down at her screen, Robbie crooning in her remaining ear.
“Geez. You know it’s due today.”
“That’s the best I can do for ya, buddy. Got serious deadlines all over the place. Sorry.”
“IT people. It’s all the same.”
“Hey!”
“No, just complaining. I know better than to expect things on time.” With that, Joseph wandered away and Andrea slipped her headphones back into place. “…I just want to feel, real love…” Robbie sang.
She looked back at her screen, her train of thought destroyed. Where the hell was she? She scanned the windows. Ok, access the phone system and check for instant messenger users. That was it, wasn’t it? She launched a network scanner to track the packets that inevitably shot around with messages from the many messenger users, filtering on the same criteria as the email search.
She turned back to the phone system. From four to ten that night, she tried to break in, so that she could record live calls, interspersed with five candy bars and a scream of frustration at no one in particular. In the end, she failed.
She really should go home. She wasn’t going to find anything else tonight. She opened the email search log that had been running for hours now. Five more minutes, then she’d go. She trawled down the list of users who had mentioned key accounts or Beehive. Only five usernames involved, but a lot of emails outside the company and frankly, the emails looked like they were in code.
Beehive needs to expand operations as target approaching. Seeing desired uptick but insufficient speed. Recommend additional sting.
Never names in the email signatures, or anywhere, even though they were obvious from the email addresses. And the names, after Andrea looked them up, were all in the Regulatory Department and all contractors. Weird.
As she scanned through the emails, she started to form a picture: a clandestine project conducted in some stupid ‘let’s be vague, ok?’ code. But it didn’t seem like one of those secret movies she teased Marco about. This had an uglier tone. And it wasn’t exactly about swindling the company either. Even Mel, the CEO, was involved. The famous Mel Boxton, founder of the company and producer of dozens of blockbusters. What was he up to? Was that who the CFO called?
She looked at the clock down in the corner of her screen, two am. Shit. She had to be back in seven hours. She saved her work, encrypted the logs and shut down the machine. Twenty minutes later she threw herself into bed.
The next day went much the same. She read the transcripts of the voicemails, but curiously, the messenger traffic was virtually empty. Oh, yeah, of course, they’d put in a hardened network, that was why. How the hell would she crack that?
By noon she was convinced she had gotten all she could from her search, and looked for a new way to continue surveillance. She didn’t have the tools. She needed a fully equipped hacker to do this. Someone who could really blanket all the networks. Something stunk here, and she had to find out.
“Marco,” she stood by his office.
“Yes Andrea?”
“How are you doing?”
“Ha. You never ask that unless you’re looking for something. What is it?”
“I need to hire a white hat hacker.”
“A what?”
“It’s a hacker who works for the good guys. I’m trying to get to the bottom of the Beehive mystery.”
“Holy crap. You’re still looking at that?” Marco’s eyebrows shot up and his weight shifted.
“Well? Shouldn’t I?”
He frowned. “Well. I don’t know.” He turned back to his screen, dismissing her.
“I asked you about a hacker,” Andrea said. “Can’t you give me a reply?”
“Oh, yeah. Look, let me think about it.”
Andrea knew that that meant ‘no’. “Fine,” she muttered and returned to her desk. I’ve got ways, she thought, cackling to herself. Man, I’m a dork.
That night, from home, Andrea went online, her second night without a proper dinner and feeling ragged from the accumulated late nights.
Her phone vibrated with an SMS.
Hey baby. Moonlit drive up to Malibu with the secret dip?
Oh Jesus, not that actor again. She threw her phone onto the couch and turned back to her computer.
USER Bunny ENTERS CHANNEL
squelch:Hey buns, how you doin?
Bunny:Good actually. who’s here?
squelch:just me
Bunny:i need a fave
squelch:oh really. big girl needs a fave! crazy crazy. you speak to the master do you?
Bunny:come to privoice
squelch:k
Andrea’s internet phone began to ring. She put on her headset and microphone and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi”
“What’s wrong with your voice. You sound like an alien.”
“What’s
wrong with my voice? You must be crazy. I’m vadering so you can’t recognize me. I can hear you clearly. Do you want to get caught?”
Andrea was surprised. “You guys do, vadering, is it? You are paranoid motherfuckers. Isn’t privoice private?”
“Not a bit. Anyone can crack it. You might as well be talkin’ on a walkie talkie. So yeah, I’m paranoid. Not a movie rights owner, or the MAIG, or the FBI that don’ want to slip their chubby fingers around my juvenile throat.” A box popped up on her screen. “That’s some vadering software I’m sending you. Install it for the next time we talk.”
“So let me tell you what I need.”
“Sure thing, sweetie pie. I like the sound of your voice. Very pretty. Happy you skipped the voice change.”
“This is delicate.” She paused. Was this the right way to go? Wasn’t she putting her career at risk? Maybe even risking jail? She stood and paced up and down.
“Spit it out,” said squelch.
“Ok. So here’s the scoop. I want access to IM logs for a bunch of people. They send a message, I want to get it. Should be easy, right?”
“Sure.”
“Also, I need to get access to cell phone calls. I want to trace for specific words. If the words are said, the call should be recorded.”
“Ok.”
“And access to secure IRC channels for the same people.”
“That’s harder. We’ve made the channels very secure for a reason, so we don’t get caught.”
“But there’s a backdoor.”
“Maybe.”
“Come on squelch, I need your help.”
“Your cute and all, but that’s a hard ask. How many people
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