by J. C. Fields
“Kind of what I thought.”
“I’m not sure how many colleges and universities are within each of the clusters, but I bet the total number will be over a hundred.”
Kruger nodded.
JR continued. “I would need to compare names of the faculty in each of the schools over the course of the past eight, maybe ten years.”
“Yes, you would.” Kruger now grinned. “Can Charlie help you?”
“No, I like Charlie, but he’s too straitlaced and doesn’t have an ounce of larceny in his bones. Alexia, however, does.”
“That’s an even better idea.”
“This will be one of the largest hacking attempts I’ve ever tried.”
“You sure you want to do it?”
“Hell, yes. I love a challenge.”
“Good. Alan’s funeral service is tomorrow. Steph’s coming in this afternoon. Were you planning to stay?”
“I hate funerals.”
“So do I.”
“But Alan was your friend and mine. Plus, he was Joseph’s nephew. I’ll stay and leave immediately afterward.”
***
Kruger tried several times to tie the necktie properly. During the last year, his wardrobe had seldom included suits so he rarely wore a tie. The suit still fit, but the tie was frustrating him. He stopped and looked at Stephanie. “You would think as many years as I wore a necktie, I would still have the muscle memory to tie one correctly.”
She smiled as she slipped on her dress. “One would think so.”
He tried again and finally got the length correct.
Stephanie turned her back to him. “Zip me up, please.” As he did, she said, “Why didn’t you agree to give one of the eulogies?”
“I hate funerals.”
“I know. We’ve discussed that before. But Alan was your friend.”
“I know. I agreed to be a pallbearer. I didn’t feel the need to do both.” He paused for a second. “Besides, I don’t like eulogies. They try to summarize a person’s life in one thousand words or less. It really minimizes the person who died. Everyone’s life is worth more than a thousand words, I don’t care who you are.”
When he stopped, she turned to look at him. “Sean, what’s the matter?”
Moisture pooled in the corners of his eyes. “It’s the finality of it, Steph. Alan didn’t deserve to have his life end this way.”
She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “You, of all people, know how unfair life can be. You have to celebrate the time you had with him.”
He blinked as a tear slid down his cheek. Pulling her into an embrace, he remained quiet.
***
Kruger and Stephanie stood behind the seated family members at the graveside services. Those individuals included Linda, Alan’s widow, his grown children, Frederick and Racheal, their spouses and the only grandchild, Racheal’s one-year old son. Joseph and Mary Kincaid sat next to Linda, Mary holding her hand as the Methodist minister spoke words Kruger did not hear.
Like during the church service, Kruger held Stephanie’s hand tightly, his thoughts wandering. He stared at the casket perched above the empty grave, the opening obscenely covered with a blanket of artificial turf to hide the fact it was just a hole in the ground. Alan Seltzer had been a fixture in Kruger’s life for more than two decades. The constant travel to different FBI Field Offices allowed him to make numerous friends and acquaintances within the bureau, but none were there on a permanent basis like Alan Seltzer.
These thoughts made him squeeze Stephanie’s hand tighter. She looked up at him and whispered, “Are you okay?”
He nodded once, afraid if he spoke his voice would crack.
After the graveside services concluded, Kruger led Stephanie back a few steps to let the other attendees pay their respects to the family. He stood there wondering what he could say to Alan’s widow, but nothing came.
As the crowd dispersed, the two of them approached Linda Seltzer. She and Stephanie hugged and exchanged words Kruger could not hear. When Linda turned to Kruger, she stared up at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. All she could say was, “Oh—Sean.”
As they hugged, he whispered into her ear. “I will find the person who did this. I promise.”
Chapter 7
Springfield, MO
Alexia Montreal Gibbs’ world consisted of three elements—her husband, Ex-Navy Seal James Gibbs, their one-year old son, Thomas, and her status as one of the world’s best computer hackers who now worked for JR Diminski’s computer security company. After spending a decade hiding in Mexico City with no family or friends, she felt comfortable with her new life.
Standing five-feet-nine, Alexia was tall by Western European standards. She was born in Spain to parents who were staunch supporters of Catalonia and harbored deep distrust of the government in Madrid. After completing her studies at the University of Barcelona, she worked for an ISP provider as a security analyst until she discovered a more lucrative vocation. Hacking.
During the early years of her hacking career, she joined an invisible group of revolutionaries working toward the demise of the Madrid government. At the time, she’d called the Latin Quarter of Paris home. She liked the bohemian atmosphere and was able to blend into the culture with ease. However, greed got to her one night, drawing the unwanted attention of the French General Directorate for Internal Security, the DGSI. After a hastily arranged midnight flight out of Charles de Gaulle International airport to Mexico City, she settled in the La Condesa district.
There she’d endured a self-imposed isolation by keeping a low profile and earning a meager living using her computer hacking skills. During this period, she wore her tousled black hair short, maintained a pencil-thin physique and when in public, wore loose-fitting clothes to hide her gender. As a naturally pretty woman, she’d disguised herself during her rare excursions into public with black Buddy Holly style glasses and a Chicago Cubs ball cap.
She lived alone. No cats or dogs—too much trouble if she had to disappear quickly. Then ten years after her exodus to Mexico she made a huge mistake. She unknowingly became involved with a group of Russians. The incident caused her to fear for her life. Then in a daring daylight raid she was spirited away from under the watchful eyes of her Russian nemesis by a group of FBI agents and a computer hacker.
Now two years after the incident, she wore her black hair long and flowing. Her clothing emphasized her slender athletic body, which she maintained with the help of her husband by swimming in the lake near their home on a daily basis. Her time was now spent doting over her son, her husband, their new house and helping JR’s company become one of the premier go-to computer security companies in the world.
With JR in Washington, Alexia handled his duties in the Springfield office. This included meeting with client companies experiencing computer breaches, supervising the day-to-day operations and getting a new division of the company started. On the last day of JR’s trip, she received a phone call from one of their client service representatives out in the cubicle farm on the second floor.
“Good morning, Jeremy.” Alexi still retained a Spanish accent, though not as thick as it once was.
“Alexia, we have a problem with one of our clients this morning.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I have the CFO of Martinez’s and Associates on the line. She believes they’ve been hit with a ransomware attack.”
“How big of a company is it?”
“Our profile shows them to have five branch offices in the central United States and an additional one hundred remote sites. All of the remote sites are infected. Uh, by the way, they’re also one of JR’s first clients. Do you want to talk to her?”
Alexia smiled. “The CFO is a woman?”
“Yes, a very rude woman.”
“Okay. Send her call to my phone and stay on the line so you can listen in.”
“Got it.”
Alexia ended the internal call and waited for the transfer to her ph
one. When Jeremy indicated the calls were joined, she said, “This is Alexia Gibbs. May I help you?”
“Who’s in charge there?”
“I am. May I ask who I am speaking to?”
“Where’s JR? I’ve always dealt with JR.”
“I’m sorry, he’s out of town at the moment.”
“Then who are you?”
“I’m his assistant. May I ask who I am speaking to?”
“Julie Martinez. Are you sure JR’s not there?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s due back tonight. Now, what can we help you with?”
“Our computers are not allowing us to open any files.”
“We’ll need to get one of our technicians into your system.”
Jeremy said, “Alexia, we’re already in their server. All the files are encrypted.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Julie Martinez started stammering. “Wh…Wha…are you—talking about? Encrypted?”
Alexia kept her voice calm. “Julie, it means someone has hacked your system and made your files unreadable. Normally there will be a Read-Me file in each of the folders. Did you see any of those, Jeremy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did they say what they wanted for the encryption key?”
“No, it said they would be in touch.”
Alexia said, “Julie, your company is going to need to let us start working on your server immediately.”
“We never had this kind of trouble when JR was around.”
“I will call him immediately and let him know. Expect a call from him.”
“Very well.”
The call ended and Alexia stood. She navigated the cubicle farm until she found the one occupied by Jeremy. “Can you show me one of the encrypted files?”
“Sure.” A few seconds later, she saw the ending file identifiers, trying to hide her surprise. She leaned over and stared incredulously at the computer screen.
“Oh, dear.” She straightened and hurried back to her own cubicle.
With her hands shaking slightly, she sent a text message to JR and waited for him to call her back.
***
JR looked at the text message as he waited in the departure gate at Dulles International Airport. He smiled. It was the first time since arriving in Washington that Alexia had reached out to him. He dialed her number on his cell phone and heard, “When are you going to be back?”
“I’m at the departure gate. What’s wrong?” She rattled something off in Spanish JR did not understand. “English, Alexia.”
“Sorry. Do you remember a computer virus you described in a dark web chatroom a number of years ago?”
He hesitated. “Yes, why?”
“And you told us you never used it, right?”
“No, I never did.”
“Someone used your ideas to infect the files of Martinez and Associates.”
After a few moments of quiet, JR said, “Julie wanted to talk to me and only me, correct?”
“Yes, very insistent. Please call her.”
“I will. How do you know it’s like the program I talked about?”
“Because it’s not only affecting the files—it got into the programs and firmware.”
JR paused for a moment and closed his eyes. An old memory made him shudder. “How much do they want?”
“We don’t know yet. How big of a company is Martinez and Associates?”
“Fairly large. I know they operate in thirty states. Why?”
“My guess is they will want a sizeable sum for the decryption key.”
“Can we rebuild the system?”
She hesitated. “Uh—one of the more malicious aspects of this program was it waited to encrypt the files just before their scheduled backup occurred. Now even the backup files are infected.”
“What about an older version of back-up?”
“I’m afraid it will be the only way, but the company will lose a day or so of data.”
“I’ll be back by six.”
***
Alexia stood behind JR as he sat in his cubicle. She asked, “Does that resemble what you proposed?”
He nodded.
“And you never released it into the wild?”
“No.” He glanced at the clock in the lower right of the screen. “It’s getting late, Alexia. Don’t you need to pick up your son at daycare?”
“Yes, but I wanted to talk to you about this first.”
“Okay, we’ve talked. Now go.” He turned and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. I’m sure somebody took my idea and designed a virus around it.”
“I am sorry, JR.”
“Don’t worry. We can fix this. It’ll just take time.”
She nodded and walked toward the staircase.
After she left, he returned to his chair and studied the data on his screen. He leaned back with a furrowed brow. “Ah—shit.”
***
Mia Diminski’s stature could best be described as petite. Her Chinese and Texas ancestry helped produced long black hair normally worn in a ponytail. Tonight, it flowed around her shoulders as she leaned over to study the computer monitor closer with her brown eyes. “Are you sure, JR?” Her Texas drawl remained intact even after living more than half of her life outside the Lone Star State.
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“When did you write it?”
“Originally, I was going to use it against P&G Global, then I met you, Joseph, and Sean. Things worked out differently after that. When P&G self-imploded, I decided the virus was too malicious to release into the wild, so I shelved it and, to be honest, forgot about it.”
“Then how did Alexia recognize it?”
JR stared at her and blinked several times. “Uh—well…” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “During that period, I used to spend a lot of time in chat rooms, there were always discussions going on about how to create the perfect virus. In one that Alexia and I frequented, I shared my thoughts on how to code it. At the time I didn’t know if she was male or female. She remembered the discussion apparently and recognized it.”
“But JR, you never used it.”
“I know.”
“Then how did someone get the code?”
“That, my dear, is a question without an answer.”
“Could someone have hacked one of your computers a long time ago without you knowing about it?”
JR pursed his lips. “Maybe, but for the life of me I don’t see how.”
She stopped standing and sat next to him, still studying the screen. “What if it happened during the Russian DDS attack on your server two years ago?”
His eyes widened as he stared back at her. “Oh, boy. I didn’t think about that. It’s the only time our system has ever been exposed.” He stopped and looked back at the monitor. “But how would someone know about it? I never told anyone I actually wrote it. I just discussed how it would…”
Mia titled her head slightly. “How it would what?”
He was silent as he stared at the screen. Finally, he turned back to her. “How it worked.”
“I’ve seen that look before. What did you remember?”
“As you know, we’ve always kept a complete backup of our system off-site without any direct connect.”
She nodded.
“What if during the DDS attack, a Trojan horse was inserted into our system and I missed it? If that’s the case, it would have provided someone the opportunity to find our back up files. We would never know about it and someone could have taken their time snooping around.”
“Wouldn’t you see something like that?”
“Not if they just looked around and copied files.” He looked back at the screen. “Why don’t you and Joey go on home? I have a few more things to do here tonight.”
Chapter 8
Washington, DC / Springfield, MO
JR’s departure the previous afternoon left Charlie Craft in charge of dismantling the phones and computers in the temporary war room at Qu
antico. Kruger, Jimmie and Sandy determined which files they needed for the next phase of the investigation and which ones to pack for storage.
Gibbs turned to Kruger. “I have an appointment with a San Francisco FBI agent tomorrow morning.”
“Was she involved with any of the investigations?”
With a nod, Gibbs placed a lid on a white bank box. “Yeah, she investigated the one near Almaden Lake Park in San Jose. When I told her you were involved and suspected four other unsolved cases might be involved, she blurted out, ‘about damn time.’”
“What’s her name?”
“Rachel Lee. She hasn’t forgotten about the case. The victim was a professor at San Jose State University. Apparently, Lee took several of her classes while in college.”
Kruger remained quiet for a few moments as he studied Gibbs. “How was she involved?”
As Gibbs finished taping the lid on a storage box, he said, “According to Alan’s notes, she was brought in after the San Jose Police Department asked for help.”
“Did she mention which cases she felt were related?”
Gibbs shook his head. “No, I thought I’d discuss that when I got there.”
The elder FBI agent gave his young protégée a thoughtful nod. “I’ll be curious as to what she tells you.”
“Me, too. I’ll keep you posted.”
“If you run into any resistance from any of the local police jurisdictions, let me know. The SAC is an old friend of mine and owes me a favor. He can intervene if we need him to.”
Gibbs carried the sealed bank box to a corner and stacked it on top of others already there. He returned to where Kruger stood and gave him a smile. “Sean, I’ve successfully dealt with warlords in Afghanistan. I think I can handle a few police chiefs.”
“My dear Jimmie, you have no idea.”
***
Stephanie sat next to her husband, flipping through a magazine while he read emails on his cell phone. They were sitting in the departure gate at Dulles International waiting for their flight back to Springfield. If all the flights were on time, they would be home by 10 p.m.
