by Joe Nobody
Frowning, the computer programmer seemed to hesitate. “Well… I do know his name, but I just met him yesterday. Mr. Sutherland, I believe.”
“And the nature of your business with him?”
Now Mahajan seemed truly uncomfortable for the first time since the interview had begun. Squirming slightly in his chair, he answered, “He arrived at our office at about 3 p.m., claiming to be from USC. He asked to see confidential log information regarding the network performance of our software for an academic study he was conducting. I declined.”
“In English, please, sir,” Griffin directed, obviously having trouble following the more technical aspects of the response.
“All software packages keep detailed log files in case something goes wrong. These historical records allow us to trace exactly what the end user was doing when the problem occurred and enable an engineer to fix the issue quickly. We also track network performance, hardware responses, and a host of other technical data. What Mr. Sutherland requested was associated with how our product communicates these log files across the internet.”
“And why didn’t you feel comfortable giving him this information?”
Again, with another frown, Ven revealed, “Because, in the right hands, those log files would reveal confidential methods and techniques about how we architected our product. They could help a competitor launch a similar product in the marketplace.”
“Or allow someone to hack into your system?” Carson asked.
“No, that wouldn’t help an intruder much.”
“So, you sent Mr. Sutherland away empty-handed?” Kit continued.
“Yes, and he wasn’t very pleased, I might add. In fact, he was so persistent, he requested that I think about his request and call him this morning. I was just about to confirm my decision not participate when you arrived.”
“He’s still in town?” Griffin piqued, sliding to the edge of his chair.
“Why, yes, he is staying at a hotel downtown. He left me a phone number yesterday afternoon.”
“Call him,” Kit suggested with a bit more excitement than she intended. “Please, ask him if he could come by here. We would love to talk with him.”
It wasn’t clear whether Mr. Mahajan agreed out of civic duty, or if he was glad to get the bloodhounds off his own trail. Reaching for the phone, he grunted. “Of course. I’m always happy to assist the United States government.”
Sutherland answered on the first ring and committed to being at Cyber Ace’s offices in half an hour.
Standing, Kit and Griffin offered their hands to Ven. “We appreciate your cooperation, sir.”
Sure enough, Mr. Sutherland was right on time.
Like Griffin, he had found it difficult to find a parking space nearby, and as the mysterious man headed up to Cyber Ace’s building, Kit stopped him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Sutherland,” she greeted, Griffin moving behind the gentleman just in case.
Kit introduced herself, producing a business card instead of her official ID. It just seemed to be the way these West Coast people did things.
If Mahajan had been reserved, Sutherland was outright cold. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“We would like to have a word with you, sir.”
“I’m on my way to a very important meeting, Ms. Carson. Perhaps you could call my office and schedule an appointment with my secretary,” he replied, handing over his own business card.
Kit scanned the small square of cardboard. “Your secretary at USC?”
“Yes.”
“I know you don’t work at USC, sir,” Kit replied, her smile evaporating into a cold stare just as Griffin took a step closer. “And lying to a federal investigator is a crime. Please, step with us down to the corner. There’s a wonderful coffee shop there that is pumping out a delicious aroma. I’m sure we could find a nice, quiet corner to have a civil discussion.”
Like a hundred times before in her career, Kit watched the man before her closely. She could practically see the wheels of decision turning in his head as he weighed the options. He could refuse and try to walk away. He could call his lawyer. He could place his faith in benevolence. He could get a cup of coffee and see where all this was going.
“Why? Why do you want to talk with me? I assure you, I’ve committed no offense.”
Kit knew he had already made up his mind before asking the question. “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Sutherland. We are investigating a ring of cybercriminals that appears to be operating on a massive scale. We saw you meeting with Mr. Ven Mahajan yesterday, so I performed a routine background check, and you came back as completely whitewashed. I even asked Marshal Storm to verify you weren’t in the Witness Protection Program.”
“Which I did,” Griffin grumbled from behind.
Sutherland’s head pivoted slightly, allowing him a look at the US marshal behind him. Shaking his head, the mystery man muttered, “No, I’m not a protected witness, nor am I a criminal. Let’s have a cup of coffee. I’m dying to hear more about this ring of hackers you’re pursuing. I think we may have a lot to talk about.”
With Griffin trailing a step behind, the threesome entered the local java dispensary. It was very busy, and very loud inside.
After receiving their cups of liquid caffeine, they retreated to a sidewalk table.
“Who do you really work for, Mr. Sutherland?” Kit asked before anyone had taken a sip. “NSA? CIA? Military Intel?”
With a sheepish grin, the scholarly man shook his head. “While I do work for the government just like you, young lady, I’m afraid my employer isn’t one of the sexy or clandestine branches. Now please, tell me more about these nefarious hackers you are pursuing.”
Sutherland was obviously flirting with Kit, and Griffin didn’t like it. “She asked you a question, sir. Before we speak about anything, we would like to know who’s involved in the conversation.”
Not missing a beat, Sutherland turned to the marshal and quizzed, “Do you know who General Fitzpatrick is, young man?”
“No. Can’t say that I do.”
“Please, while this stunning woman and I sip our coffee, why don’t you call your headquarters in DC, and ask them how to get in touch with the general? He will verify my bonafides.”
After exchanging looks with Kit, Griffin refocused his gaze on the man across the table. “Okay, Mr. Sutherland. I’ll do as you ask but let me warn you. I’m in no mood to be fucked with. If you’re sending me on some sort of wild goose chase, my reaction will be most unpleasant.”
Pulling out his mobile phone, Griffin dialed the Washington office as Sutherland continued to charm Kit. The marshal stood and stamped away from the table as his first call was answered.
After identifying himself, Griffin said, “I’m seeking background on a General Fitzpatrick, and a potential contact number.”
The desk officer on the other end of the phone didn’t even need to look up the name. “General Fitzpatrick is the head of DARPA, the defense research agency. Do you need his number?”
With his eyebrows now seeking his hairline, Griffin replied, “Yes, please.”
It took a bit to look up the contact information. Griffin memorized it as the digits came across the line.
His next call was answered promptly. “DARPA.”
“This is Inspector Storm, US Marshal. I need to speak with General Fitzpatrick, please.”
“One moment while I transfer you to the general’s office, sir.”
Griffin paced as the call was forwarded and answered. After identifying himself again, the marshal asked to speak with General Fitzpatrick.
“Sir, my name is Colonel Banister. I’m the general’s chief of staff. He’s in a meeting right now with two US senators. Could I have him call you back?”
“I’m trying to verify a gentleman’s identity, as well as his claim of being a federal employee. He gave the general’s name. Would you be able to check that instead?”
; “I can try. If not, I can forward you to our HR department.”
“His name is Sutherland. Harold T.,” Griffin repeated.
A stifled laugh on the other end of the phone was the initial response. “Marshal Storm, is the man you’re speaking with about 5’10”, grey hair, with just a bit of a paunch?”
“Yes.”
“Is he wearing crazy socks?”
Griffin pivoted, peering down at Sutherland’s ankles. “Yes. They’re pretty radical.”
“The man you’re dealing with isn’t technically a DARPA employee, Marshal. What I can say is that he has the highest possible security clearance and is highly regarded at the top-most ranks of the military, White House, and Congress. I would pay him a lot of respect.”
“Who does he work for?”
“The answer to that is above my paygrade, Marshal. You would have to speak to the general, or someone at the Pentagon for that information.”
“But he’s a white hat?”
“Of that, sir, there’s no doubt. He’s not only a good guy; he’s one of the most brilliant men in the world. It would be extremely unwise to piss him off.”
“Okay, Colonel, thank you. Have a good one.”
Returning to the table, Griffin simply nodded at Kit. “He’s okay,” he stated.
“Okay! Just okay? Is that what Fitz said about me? Why, that old Army mule! The next time I see him, I’m going to…” Sutherland protested, his tone indicating that he wasn’t really insulted.
Glancing down, Griffin added, “Nice socks,” which made the older man laugh from deep in his belly.
“So, now that you’ve verified I’m not the devil, tell me about your crime-fighting adventures,” Sutherland suggested.
Kit began, giving the strange gent a high-level summary and timeline of what they had encountered. “We feel like the entire justice system is being manipulated, from the police to actual judges. As fantastic as it sounds, I sense that these acts are coordinated and controlled. For what purpose, I can’t speculate,” she concluded.
Taking it all in without a word or expression, Sutherland’s flippant attitude vanished, replaced by a blue-cold stare that held an intensity like Kit had never seen. “I was afraid of that. It’s gone further than I expected.”
“What?” Griffin and Kit both responded at the same instant. “We’ve been chasing ghosts and ghouls for days,” Griffin continued. “We told you our story, so why don’t you return the favor?”
Sutherland’s gaze shifted back and forth between the two feds, trying to reach a decision. Eventually, he nodded agreement and took a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of the group JASON?”
“The sort of secret team of scientists that work for the government?” Kit ventured.
“Yes, one and the same,” Sutherland replied.
“I haven’t,” Griffin admitted. “What are you two talking about?”
“In the late 1950s, the scientists at Los Alamos and other government labs had become entrenched, a bunch of old-school fuddy-duddies. A group of younger, more out of the box thinkers got together and did some work for DOD. Out of that grew the idea of the JASONs. Basically, an invitation-only group, funded by several government agencies, that would act as an independent scientific advisory board.”
“Not another super-secret club of mad scientists?” Griffin grunted. “I’m beginning to feel like I’m in a British spy movie.”
Ignoring the marshal’s comment, Sutherland continued, “Our organization has completed hundreds of clandestine projects, both for the military and private industry. While our ranks are dominated by theoretical physicists, we also enjoy the company of biologists, notable computer scientists, and a host of experts from other disciplines.”
“And several Nobel Prize winners, as I recall,” Kit added.
Again, Sutherland flashed his most flirtatious smile at the federal prosecutor. “You are correct, young lady,” he gushed, reaching over to pat the top of her hand.
Griffin didn’t like the old fart touching Kit, but he held his powder. “Please, sir, there are cities burning across our country right now. What does this all have to do with our cybercrime spree?”
“Two years ago, while working on a separate project, one of our members noticed something odd occurring across the worldwide web. He is a brilliant cryptologist and originally described it as an undercurrent of digital traffic. Later, the term ‘Shadow Net,’ was coined to describe it.”
Kit was enthralled. Griffin was impatient, and said so, “Please get to the point… and… could you make this simple for us Neanderthals?”
Sutherland had to think for a moment, his expression suggesting he was struggling to find the right words. Reaching across the table, he grabbed a napkin and unfolded the paper until it was flat.
Next, he produced a pen from his pocket and quickly drew a reasonable picture of a cat. “Let’s say that I wanted to send Ms. Carson a picture of this feline across the web. Here is what my computer would do.”
Taking the napkin by the edges, the scientist carefully tore the paper at the folds, resulting in the cat being in four equal pieces. He then retrieved the pen and numbered each square, one through four.
“My computer would break down whatever I was sending into packets. Given the restrictions on hardware and communications lines, these packets can only be 1500 characters long. In nanoseconds, my PC will divide up whatever I’m sending to Ms. Carson, address the components like letters in an envelope, and send them across the web.”
One by one, he gently pushed each square toward Kit, but not in order.
“Now, Ms. Carson, your computer has received four pieces of the puzzle. How will it put them together?”
Nodding Kit said, “Easy. One, two, three, four,” as she arranged the four numbered pieces of napkin.
Griffin was impressed. “Thank you for that. I always wondered what the techies were talking about.”
“The numbers I drew on each corner are a simple representation of what are called headers and footers. In reality, there is a lot of information wrapped around each packet. This includes what kind of data is being sent, check digits to ensure that part of the package didn’t get lost or corrupted, and a variety of other things.”
Again, the two feds nodded to indicate they were following.
“It was in these headers and footers that my colleague discovered what he thought was an encrypted code. Unfortunately, he disappeared before his work was completed.”
“Disappeared?” Griffin questioned, happy to have the topic changed to something more concrete.
“Yes. We notified the authorities, but he was an eccentric bastard and completely unpredictable. This wasn’t the first time he had dropped off the grid. We all assumed he was scaling the Italian Alps or wandering aimlessly through the Amazon rainforest. Like so many brilliant men, he often had difficulty integrating with society, and even amongst his intellectual equals he had trouble interacting with other people.”
“Your friend thought someone was transferring information through this shadow net? What kind of data?” Kit asked, trying to keep the conversation on track.
“Depending on a variety of circumstances, it is known that as much as 50% of internet packets are corrupted,” Sutherland said, reaching for one of Kit’s squares.
Tearing it in half, the scientist handed it back and said, “Now, when your computer receives this damaged square, it asks my computer to resend another copy. This is called a ‘reorder,’ and it happens a lot. Modern computers are so fast, however, that we don’t notice it. My missing coworker believed that the embedded encryption was actually faking corrupted packets in order to transfer information that would be virtually undetectable to any sort of network sniffer or traditional monitoring technology.”
“Hiding in plain sight?” Griffin mumbled. “Nobody bothers to search the garbage.”
“Exactly,” Sutherland nodded, seemingly happy that the least among them
had followed his lesson.
“Who would be capable of such a thing?” Kit pondered, not really expecting an answer.
The scientist sighed audibly, “That’s the problem. No one. There isn’t a single organization, software company, hardware provider, or nation that could accomplish such a feat. We are talking about every computer, cell phone, transaction, each tiny piece of information stored on digital media. It boggles the mind – the scope is nearly incomprehensible.”
“What about some sort of cartel… or organized syndicate?” Griffin asked, his mind racing trying to deal with the sheer scope of such an undertaking.
It was the scientist’s turn to reflect for a moment, his expression going blank. Finally, he spoke, “I’ve spent a considerable amount of time contemplating this and have yet to come up with a satisfactory answer. It is doubtful that China, the USA, and Russia combined could accomplish a task such as this. Even if they could, their political agendas are so diverse the concept doesn’t make any sense. None of them would trust the other with even a portion of such a capability.”
“And to what end?” Kit added. “Right now, whoever is doing this seems to be mostly interested in taking the government down.”
“Exactly,” Sutherland nodded. “Wall Street is down today by over 30% this morning. Before I left my hotel, they had decided to stop trading. The global markets are in turmoil as well. The president is contemplating martial law. Every government on the globe is taking a lot of heat right now.”
“What about a consortium of our enemies, assisted by China and Russia?” Griffin asked. “Throw in Iran, North Korea, and a handful of B-players. Could they pull this off?”
“No. If my friend was correct, we’re talking about undetectable computer code that is on every piece of hardware ever made. Even if, by some miracle, the players you mentioned could assimilate and accomplish that agenda, there is a trust factor. As you well know, Marshal, the more crooks you have in a plot, the harder it is to keep a secret. Someone would squabble, there would be discord, and eventually, word would leak out.”
“Perhaps we’re looking at this the wrong way,” Kit responded thoughtfully. “Maybe we should be focusing on the motive. Why are they doing this? What is the end game?”
