Margaret’s part of CBSC was to handle the few customer-service needs for those banking customers with problems who managed to clear the numerous hurdles their local bank had created to keep them from actually talking to a real live human being. More than a dozen banks outsourced their customer service to CBSC from 9:00 p.m. until 6:00 a.m., Monday through Friday, and Margaret was responsible for making it all work.
It was not an especially demanding job, and given her hours, none of the other supervisors were clamoring for it. The 10 percent pay differential made it worth her while. She couldn’t sleep nights anyway.
“Maggie?” one of the representatives who’d been stuck on a call said into her headset.
“Yes?”
“I’ve got a live one. He insists his statement is off three cents. I’m afraid I was a little testy with him and offered to give him the three cents myself. He says that’s not the point and wants to talk to my supervisor. Sorry.”
Margaret chuckled. “I’ll take him.” But just as she heard the unpleasant voice of the customer on the line, the screens across the room flickered, turned blue, then read:
Rebooting …
After a few seconds, the screens flickered again, and read:
NO OPERATING SYSTEM FOUND.
Then the screens turned black.
Margaret disconnected the call without comment. “I’m calling tech support!” she shouted over the sudden chatter that filled the room.
SUBMARINE GROUP 10
NAVAL SUBMARINE BASE KING’S BAY
SOUTHEAST GEORGIA
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 11
12:01 A.M.
Petty Officer Third Class Russell Winters leaned back in his swivel chair and yawned. As always, day or night, the lights in the communications room were subdued with a certain surreal quality he had some difficulty adjusting to. He’d just come on duty and was already ready for a nap. That wouldn’t do. He took a long sip of the strong black coffee with which he began every shift and turned back to his computer screen.
This was a quiet time for the submarine net spread across the Atlantic. Winters manned the very low frequency, or VLF, radio for the ballistic-missile submarines known as boomers. The screen placed each boomer by location, while the silence in his earphones told him no one was calling home. No one was expected to be calling in, so in this case silence was golden.
Six communications specialists were on duty, along with Lieutenant Commander Danielle Alvarado. She ran a quiet station, which was just as well with Winters. His personal life had all the drama he could manage for now.
He took another sip of coffee as every computer screen blinked.
“What was that?” Alvarado asked from her desk, alert.
“Some kind of hiccup, ma’am,” Winters said. His screen turned blue, then went black. They were down.
“What’s going on?” Alvarado demanded, standing in place.
Winters clicked his mouse. “I don’t know, ma’am. But we’re out of contact.”
Alvarado was already on the telephone. “I need every tech you’ve got, now! We’re down. There’s no way we can give an order or receive a message. You understand? We’re naked right now. We’ll be waiting.” She looked up at her confused staff. “Everybody reboot. We need to get back up.”
“Ma’am,” Winters said, “I just noticed that our satellite uplink is down as well.”
COLUMBUS, OHIO
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 11
12:01 A.M.
James Black ran the numbers one more time. Maybe, just maybe, they were finally turning the corner. The fall season the previous year had been good for the family company, and they’d just come out of the traditionally slow summer with a positive cash flow, a first. If the economy stayed healthy through the holidays, they’d be in the best shape ever since mortgaging their house three years before to finance the company.
Working from home had been their dream. Black had to admit it was pretty good. It sure beat the daily commute and that boss he’d had. What a jerk! But now it was all in their hands, though if these numbers were correct, it was looking as if they’d made the right call. The key to the company’s success was the lack of an inventory and all the associated costs. It had taken him an entire year to figure that part out. Now he took the orders online, placed his own order with the wholesaler for direct shipment to the customer, then processed the charge. Smooth. The computer made it all possible.
Not that it had been as easy as that in the beginning. He’d had to make many modifications to the software to get it to do what their novelty business required, but that speed bump was behind them. Everything was going to be just fine. Black sat back with a sense of satisfaction.
His computer screen flickered, then turned blue and read:
Rebooting …
A moment later the screen blinked again, read:
NO OPERATING SYSTEM FOUND.
Then turned dark.
Black stared in amazement. He’d never seen anything like it. He killed the power bar, waited, then turned it back on. His attempt at rebooting went nowhere. He tried it repeatedly with no luck. His computer was dead.
Jeez, he thought, what am I going to do tomorrow? I won’t receive, let alone be able to process, any orders. And what about the family photos? “Hell,” he said aloud with sudden comprehension, “what about our financial records and the software?”
He stared at the screen again, as if seeking an answer, his chest beginning to constrict with panic.
CHICAGO-O’HARE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 11
12:01 A.M.
Air traffic controller Byron Smith took in the screen with a single practiced sweep. He could close his eyes and place every airplane on the screen exactly. What’s more, he could tell you where’d they’d all be in one minute. As he often told Carla at home, his mind was the best computer of all.
Chicago-O’Hare was one of the busiest airports in the world, and the second busiest in the United States, with more than twenty-six hundred flights daily. Frankly, with their antiquated software, Smith thought it amazing they could juggle so many flights. Still, he enjoyed the challenge and had more than once been called upon to exercise his considerable mental dexterity when the system had become overloaded and sluggish.
This was not an especially busy time for the airport. He didn’t like working nights anyway, and the undemanding work only caused the hours to drag. This was also the time when the techs tended to update the software, and that did not always go without a hitch.
“Stand by!” their supervisor called out. “Any second now.”
Smith had been told this was a minor update. He shouldn’t even notice it, so when the screen blinked, he smiled. So much for techs and their so-called expertise. Then the screen went blue, then black. They were down.
Others shouted while Smith waited. Nothing. He closed his eyes and visualized the planes he’d been monitoring, placing them in their ever-changing locations. The other controllers were now screaming at the supervisor, who was on the telephone, cursing.
“Send them elsewhere!” he shouted. “Emergency landings only. They have no idea what’s going on. Careful now. But clear the sky.”
Calmly, Smith hit the SEND button and began speaking. “United Flight 145, this is O’Hare. Please divert to another airport. We cannot land you. Thank you. American Airlines Flight 334, this is O’Hare. Please divert to another airport.”
Throughout the control room the other controllers were talking to their planes as the supervisor continued screaming into his headset.
DETROIT, MICHIGAN
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 11
12:01 A.M.
Mike Ruiz glanced at his wristwatch, then looked up at the fourteen robots doing their awkward dance. He’d taken over for the recently deceased Buddy once the line was declared ready, and for the last two weeks assembly had gone off without a hitch.
Mike didn’t like the idea of sitting in a dead
man’s chair, though. He’d never known anyone who was killed on the job before, and the whole thing made him queasy. But he couldn’t see passing up a good slot like this just because Buddy had been careless enough to get his head cut off.
Mike and his aging coworkers had talked a lot about the accident, and nobody could really figure out just how it happened. The line moved so slowly it seemed impossible that anyone could lie still long enough for that to happen, but apparently it had. Mike had given this a lot of thought, even talked to his wife about it. If the robots ever acted up again, he knew exactly what he was going to do.
Shortly before midnight, Mike Ruiz left his workstation with a clean rag and lubricant can. At the first robot he pressed the large blue plastic button that caused the machine to retreat from the assembly line five feet. Once in place Mike lubricated six points, then wiped them down. Finished, he pressed the button and watched the robot move back into place and resume operation.
Mike was halfway through the chore when the robots stopped doing whatever they’d each been up to. They then moved, as if standing to attention. Mike stepped back and gawked at the machines. He’d never seen them act like this before.
Then, without warning, all fourteen of them moved to their left and dropped down low. For just an instant, Mike was frozen in place. Then he understood how Buddy Morgan got his head chopped off. With a loud grunt, he dropped to the floor, pressing himself as hard to the vinyl surface as he could. Over his head, the nearest machine swung its arm violently forward as if swinging at a ball, just brushing Mike’s pants.
Never more terrified in his life, Mike crawled away as fast as he could, just as they’d taught him in the army. Finally, away from the robots, he rose, then raced over to the shift supervisor.
“Did you see that?” Mike asked breathlessly, looking back at the machines, which were now performing some macabre dance in unison.
“See what?”
“Those … those … things! They just tried to kill me, like they did Buddy!”
MEMORANDUM
NS rated 10
DATE:
April 18
FROM:
Dr. Daryl Haugen
Assistant Director
Computer Infrastructure Security Unit, DHS
TO:
Leonard A. Hayes
Senior Deputy Director, NSA
RE:
Interim Report, Summary of Events Related to Superphreak Virus and Resignation
Forgive me for wrapping up so many subjects in a single memo, but in my mind these are all intimately interconnected. First, as you requested, following is a summary of certain events related to the recent disruption in Internet service and the destruction of computers in the United States and Europe.
• We estimate that 800,000 computers were struck and suffered significant damage of one kind or another.
• To date, 23 deaths have been directly attributed to the various viruses.
• Three nuclear power plants shut down and took more than one month to come back online.
• The air traffic control system crashed in 11 airports, the largest of which was Chicago-O’Hare. No incidents occurred.
• The Navy lost contact with its ballistic missile submarine fleet for eight days. Emergency measures in place prevented any incident.
• The electric power grid in the Pacific Northwest was down for 3 days.
• We estimate a loss of $4 billion in the private sector and an additional $1 billion in government loss.
• Our efforts to portray this as a financial attack by the Russian mob have so far met with success. No credible source has linked this to any terrorist group.
Next, are the related subjects in which you expressed interest.
The law firm of Fischerman, Platt & Cohen went out of business. As I understand it, the death of the managing partner was the last in a series of unfortunate events leading to the demise of the once well-regarded firm. Its office space has been assumed by a branch office of the Department of Homeland Security, Manhattan District.
The murders of Sue Tabor and Joshua Greene remain unsolved. The murders of Michel Dufour, Labib al Dawar, and Fajer al Dawar have also not been solved, though a confidential report to the President of the Republic offered the opinion that it was a reprisal attack by another Arab group or a Mossad operation.
The murder of George Carlton was resolved by the charging of a local pimp and extortionist.
The woman who proved so instrumental in all this, Ivana Koskov, returned to Moscow. She has been sponsored into the United States by Interport, Inc.
I believe that is it. As we discussed, please accept this as my letter of resignation effective in 30 days. I will be joining Jeff Aiken in his company and look forward to working with you in that capacity in the future.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank Chris Corio, Scott Field, John Lambert, and Matt Thomlinson, colleagues of mine at Microsoft, for reviewing drafts of Zero Day and providing valuable input. Thanks also to David Solomon for his multiple reviews and many conversations discussing the technical aspects of the book. Ron Watkins provided me helpful advice and coaching on the plot, structure, character development, and other aspects of the book. Zero Day is a better book than it would have been because of the feedback I received from these friends.
I owe a special thanks to Howard Schmidt for the foreword and to Bill Gates for providing a promotional blurb and for the many discussions we had on cyber security. I’m grateful to Scott Stein for introducing me to Howard.
I might have given up getting the book published if it were not for the dogged persistence of my agent, Ann Collette, from the Helen Rees Literary Agency. She also reviewed numerous versions of the book, editing and making suggestions that helped tighten the plot.
Thanks to Peter Joseph, my editor at Thomas Dunne Books, for his reviews and for ushering the book through publication, and Thomas Dunne for taking a chance on a first-time novelist.
Finally, I want to thank my wife, the real-life Daryl, for her incredible support on this and everything else I do.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
ZERO DAY. Copyright © 2011 by Mark Russinovich. Foreword © 2011 by Howard A. Schmidt. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.thomasdunnebooks.com
www.stmartins.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Russinovich, Mark E.
Zero day : a novel / Mark Russinovich ; foreword by Howard Schmidt. — First edition.
p. cm
ISBN 978-0-312-61246-7
1. Cyberterrorism—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3618.U7688Z47 2011
813'.6—dc22
2010040346
First Edition: March 2011
eISBN 978-1-4299-6804-1
First Thomas Dunne Books eBook Edition: March 2011
Table of Contents
Foreword
Title Page
Memorandum
Week One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Week Two
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
/>
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Week Three
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Week Four
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Zero Day
Chapter 68
Memorandum
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Zero Day Page 31
