Counting from Zero

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Counting from Zero Page 22

by Alan B. Johnston


  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.

  Mick got out the camera bag, placing it on the table next to his computer. He checked the viewfinder to verify that he had a clear view of the front of the building and started recording. Kateryna arrived a few minutes later. Her face was slightly flushed from the exercise, or perhaps the excitement. Mick passed her latte over to her as she checked the camera, satisfied with the view.

  “Ready to do this?” Mick asked her, showing her the script to generate the botnet messages that would take control of the network.

  “Make it so!” she replied, a slight smile in the corner of her mouth.

  “Aye, Captain,” he replied in a terrible Scottish accent, and executed the script.

  “How long until you know if it worked?” she asked after a moment’s pause.

  “Not long. I’ll ping three hosts in the botnet, and see if they respond, or if they are off in la-la land,” Mick replied, drumming his fingers on the table. Kateryna put her hand on top of his to stop the tapping. They sat that way for an indeterminate period of time, before a message from the script made Mick jump.

  “Wow! Already? I thought it would take a little longer for the messages to propagate, but I guess not. We are in business,” he said, glancing around the coffee shop to see if anyone were taking an interest in them, but the few other customers seemed engrossed in their own conversations. “Now, we wait,” he said.

  “Now, we wait,” echoed Kateryna, sitting back in her chair.

  After about an hour and a half, they left the coffee shop, moving a few buildings down the street to a small restaurant for lunch. Sitting at their table on the street, they saw a car arrive.

  It was a large, black car, which pulled up outside the building. It had barely stopped moving when a suited man got out and strode into the building. The driver then got out of the car and started smoking a cigarette. Mick immediately recognized him as one of the men who chased him in New Mexico.

  Hello, Pavel Michalovic!

  Mick saw him again in the corner office a moment later, having an animated conversation with two others. They left a moment later, and all appeared to be making phone calls. Mick thought wistfully of alligator clips. He took this activity in the management ranks to be a further indication that the plan was working.

  Kateryna uploaded the video clips from her camera to Mick’s server and extracted freeze frames that showed their faces. She worked on the digital images for a few minutes to make them sharper and cleaner.

  Let’s see if any of the programmers show up.

  Another hour passed, and there were two more arrivals – programmers by the look of them – regardless of nationality, Mick could identify his own kind. Mick watched them enter the building and go upstairs for a series of conversations. The more he watched, the more convinced he became that he was watching a corporation in action: this was a textbook case of an ‘escalation’ of an outage impacting important customers.

  Kateryna uploaded all the video files, adding the faces to Mick’s ‘rogues gallery’ of Zed.Kicker, which they now knew was the botnet created by the Cloud 8++ Corporation.

  Mick checked for activity in the botnet. Now that he had control of the botnet, he was able to send and receive botnet control messages without worrying about drawing attention to his activities. He saw a few new commands being sent, probably originating from the office in front of him. These commands failed, giving Mick a feeling of satisfaction.

  The next part of the plan was the part that Kateryna liked the least, and argued against on the train the previous night. However, Mick was not deterred; he needed more information about the creators of the botnet, and he hoped the GPS trackers and bugs would produce exactly that. Unless all the members of Zed.Kicker were caught, they could simply create another botnet.

  He said goodbye to Kateryna, leaving his computer and camera with her, setting off in the opposite direction of the building, intending to come around the back entrance. He forced himself not to look over his shoulder as he turned the corner.

  Mick never saw the elbow that connected with his face as he walked past the alleyway.

  Chapter 21.

  The account of Mick O'Malley has been closed.

  Mick felt the world spinning, first rapidly, then more slowly. He saw only blackness, felt nothing but pain. Then, he saw some light, gradually getting brighter. The pain became focused on his head, hands, and feet. With difficulty, he opened his eyes, and things began to take shape. He tasted his own blood.

  Mick’s brain began to function, and he realized he was tied to a chair in a room with a single high window and a door. He could see and feel the duct tape holding his wrists and ankles to the chair, and the dried blood staining his shirt – likely his own. He wiggled his fingers and toes, and decided that perhaps nothing was broken. Then he breathed, and changed his mind. The pain that shot through his chest suggested he might have a broken rib or two. His mind raced.

  He could not believe how his life had been turned upside down by the investigation.

  Where am I?

  He knew the reason he was still alive was because he was the only one who could control the botnet.

  Mick heard footsteps outside the door, and the sound of a deadbolt retracting. He steeled himself.

  “Why the hell did you do this?” came from a familiar voice from a familiar silhouette in the doorframe.

  “Gunter?” Mick mumbled, astonished. The door closed and a light flared. Gunter sat down in a chair and glared at him.

  “We tried to be subtle! They wanted to kill you as soon as they learned you were starting to make connections between the attacks, but I convinced them to threaten you instead,” he began. When Mick didn’t respond, he continued. “In New Mexico? Remember?” Mick felt the blood burn throughout his body. “Then I tried to get fancy, putting that keylogger on your machine in Vegas, tracking your progress and stealing your private key. Then you sh
ow up in London – how the hell did you get there? Did you travel in Kat’s bloody suitcase? Getting someone’s name on the No-Fly list usually dampens their travel plans… as does freezing their assets.”

  Mick was confused: Cloud 8++ got his name put on the No-Fly list? Gunter continued. “Don’t look so surprised! It is quite easy to do with some planted chatter by people who know their communication is being monitored by the NSA. I told them there was no way you were working for the Americans… Are you freelancing or something?” Mick couldn’t recall Gunter being this angry.

  “You are involved with Cloud 8 plus plus! You wrote Zed dot Kicker? Why?” Mick asked in shock.

  “Why not? They paid well. All my hopes for a comfortable retirement went down with the market these past few years. Stupid governments – trusting idiots like UBK for their security! UBK only knows how to secure its own bank account… My botnet is overkill for their pathetic network. I didn’t need that open source crap code! I could have written the whole thing in one day! But why are you here? What possessed you to take all these risks, just to take over some botnet?”

  “I had to stop the zero day!”

  “You did: the web server attack, the mail server attack,” Gunter replied, puzzled.

  “I mean the big one – I saw the mail forwarded to Miles. It said in three days the ultimate zero day would be launched. I had to stop it!” Now Gunter looked surprised.

  “What? I don’t know anything about that. They are still doing tests and trials. I don’t think these guys are even in charge anymore,” he said, motioning out the door. “Someone else is calling the shots.” He paused for a moment, thinking, then continued. “Did Turing ever contact you? When you removed the keylogger I lost my little window into your world.” Mick didn’t answer. “And why did you have to involve Kat? I liked her.” At this, Mick pushed off with his feet – he had been gradually working them loose. His chair jumped in the air, and he tipped over in the direction of Gunter. Gunter jumped up, swore, and then started to laugh. “Yeah, I get it. You’ve been getting to know her, I’m sure. And I always thought you had principles, Mick... We actually don’t have her yet, but we will, don’t worry! I’m not supposed to tell you that, but what the hell! Listen, Mick, you and I can still get out of this all right. I have a way out of here. I just need to know I can still trust you. We could –”

  Just then, the door burst open and another man came in and said something to Gunter that Mick didn’t understand. They both left the room without saying anything more, bolting the door, leaving Mick lying on the floor.

  Why did Gunter say there was no big zero day planned? Could it have been a fabrication to set a trap for me?

  Mick awoke later to an odd sound that he could not immediately identify. It was a metallic sound, a sharp sound like metal pipes being struck with a hammer. He realized with a shock it was silenced gunshots. The door burst open and a man came running through. Another burst of silenced shots erupted, and the man fell to the ground next to Mick, dead, as a pink mist slowly settled. Two soldiers advanced through the door, fingers still on the triggers. A word from the other room made them relax, and they lowered their weapons. They exchanged a few words in what he presumed to be Russian. Mick then noticed that none of them were wearing any markings, ranks, or insignias. He began to wonder if this was an improvement.

  They stood him up, cut the tape from his arms and legs, and led him out of the room. Mick caught sight of a few bodies slumped in the adjoining rooms. As they went down the stairs, he recognized it as the building that he and Kateryna had been staking out. They pushed him into in a Mercedes SUV parked in the loading dock and sped off.

  The soldier next to him offered a cigarette, which he refused. His ribs hurt, and he wondered if he was going to be sick.

  On the outskirts of Kiev, they bumped along an isolated farmer’s field and stopped beside a stone building. Inside, the soldiers sprawled around the small house. One stood guard by a door. They gave him some bread and water which he hungrily ate. The officer in charge sat down and spoke to him in heavily accented, but understandable English.

  “O’Malley, it is good to meet you. You are free of criminals. You have been liberated by a Spetsnaz commando brigade of the Russian Federation. You will be safe in Mother Russia in few hours when our transport plane lands. In gratitude, you will help us of course…” He leaned over and in a quiet voice added, “We both know what a special botnet this is, yes?” He raised his eyebrows and grinned at Mick. “Now, relax!” He motioned Mick towards another door. Mick opened it and sat down on the bed. Exhausted, he had only one thought before passing out again.

  This is not good…

  The next thing Mick felt was a slight tingling behind his ear. He realized he had probably blacked out for a while, and tried to come to his senses. The tingling continued, but he was still confused. Then, with a flash of cognizance that he could almost see, he whispered “Answer!” Mick was amazed when his mobile phone recognized his voice command through his implant and answered the incoming call. “Hello?” he croaked, his voice breaking.

  “Alec?” said a familiar voice from the other side of the world. “You sound strange...”

  “Jocelyn?” he whispered.

  “Why are you whispering? I’m sorry if this is a –” she began, but he interrupted her.

  “Jocelyn, I’m in trouble in Kiev, Ukraine. Call the State Department. Tell them I’m being held by Russian special forces. Mention the Zed dot Kicker botnet, Cloud 8 plus plus. Oh, and tell them my name is Mick O’Malley...”

  “Alec, have you been drinking?” she asked.

  “I am deadly serious, Jocelyn,” he whispered to his sister. “Please do exactly as I say. Lives are at stake. And tell them Kateryna Petrescu is in danger, too. Got it? Repeat it back to me...”

  “OK, OK. Kiev, State Department, Zed dot Kicker, botnet, Cloud 8 plus plus, Kateryna, and you are Mick O’Malley – why that name?”

  “I’ll explain later Jocelyn. Please don’t delay!” he hissed. He adopted a different tone of voice and said “Share Location!”

  “What did you say, Alec? I will do it right away… Love you!”

  “You too...” Mick whispered. “Disconnect!”

  He marveled that his Russian captors hadn’t turned off his mobile. Perhaps they had been trying to break into it – good luck to them with that! He also realized it must be in the other room, as his implant had a limited working distance. With his mobile on silent, it would have given no indication of the phone call, besides activating his implant ringer. He hoped his location sharing with Jocelyn’s phone had gone through. He felt some optimism, but would there be time? He drifted off again.

  Images floated through Mick’s concussed brain. He watched a raptor prowl around the room, looking for other, smaller dinosaurs to devour. He heard more voices, banging. He saw a man speaking to him, but he could not hear the words. Something that looked like an IV was connected to his arm. He hoped the raptor would leave him alone…

  Chapter 22.

  Mick awoke in a hospital. He had all kinds of wires and tubes in his body. He also noted hand and foot restraints, which alarmed him. He had no idea how much time had passed or where he was. A nurse walked by, noticed he was conscious, and hurried away. A moment later, another person, presumably a doctor, came to his bedside.

  “Doctor O’Malley, I am Doctor Pushkar. I am very glad to see you are recovering well. First, I remove these,” he said as he reached down and undid the restraints. “I give you apology, but you were confused when they brought you in here, something about a dinosaur – I don't know, but not surprising, considering what happened to you. I leave them on until you were fully conscious.”

  “Am I in Moscow?” he asked feebly.

  “Moskva? Why would you think that? Ah, of course! You don’t know…. Take it easy! I give you the good news that you are safe here in Ukraine and that you will be fine. Your nose and ribs will heal. We keep you overnight for observation, but you s
hould be discharged tomorrow.”

  “My nose?” he asked, reaching up and touching it – another mistake as pain shot through his head. “What day is it?”

  “Wednesday,” the doctor replied. Mick’s first thought was that nearly two complete days had passed since his capture. His second thought was for Kateryna.

  “Kateryna?” he asked and when he got a blank look from the doctor, he started to get up again.

  “Hold on, Doctor O’Malley. Someone will be here momentarily to answer your questions – I don’t know anything besides your condition,” he apologized. “We did treat a few other injuries from the operation –” his explanation was interrupted by the entry into the room of a familiar looking man in uniform.

  “You?” Mick sat up again, startled, and undeterred by the pain. He recalled the uniformed figure in the room from his government interview.

  “Hello Mick. Glad to see you are recovering. Thank you, Doctor,” he said to Pushkar and waited patiently for him to leave the room. “Good to finally meet you properly. You have led us on a quite a chase! You may not believe me, but our following you and restricting your travel was for your own protection. Our intelligence indicated that the Russians were looking for you,” he paused. “We know about their close relationship with companies such as Cloud 8 plus plus, but their interest in this company is different. Do you have any ideas?” asked the General.

  “No,” Mick replied, not entirely truthfully.

  “I guess you would like to know what happened?” the General continued. Mick nodded. “Well, the phone call from your sister eventually reached the right analysts who put the pieces together. We were able to locate your mobile and alert the Ukrainian government. Their military successfully executed the rescue operation. This will not be part of the official narrative, but you probably realize that you were being held by a Russian special forces group, a very senior group. You almost ended up in Russia! I hope you realize how lucky you are!”

 

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