Cyber Attack

by Bobby Akart

  “In a nutshell, the five Ds of perimeter security can be summarized like this,” said Brad, who directed everyone’s attention to the blue-lined drawings on Sarge’s Mercedes. “First, by defining the perimeter as a restricted area, we provide a physical and psychological deterrent to unauthorized entry while serving notice that entry is not freely permitted.

  “Second, a properly constructed security fence will deny accidental entry to wayward hunters or adventure seekers looking to hike or camp on the peninsula.

  “Third, our security personnel will be able to detect and apprehend intruders.

  “Fourth, this detection element will enable us to delay anyone who is making their way to our compound, which will enable us to put into effect the last D.”

  “Defense,” said Steven. “Anyone who intends to cause us harm will have to go through several layers of defensive measures, which will reduce their element of surprise.”

  “Finally, we are going to establish a series of choke points using the existing road system,” said Brad. “If a substantial force does manage to break through our first lines of defense, we’ll have something for them.”

  “Brad, this sounds very good on paper, but defending this place will take a battalion-sized security team,” said Sarge.

  J.J. stepped forward and put his hands on the shoulders of his military compatriots. “We’ve been working on this issue for some time. Donald is the money man, so this will require his, or at least our benefactor’s, approval.”

  “How much?” asked Donald.

  Brad, a student of military history, knew the cost of a standing army was substantial. The defense of Prescott Peninsula could take more than a hundred highly trained men working around the clock.

  “Finding the soldiers necessary for the defense of Prescott Peninsula is just half the battle,” said Brad. “First we have to recruit based upon ideology. After that, we must be convinced of their commitment. When the shit hits the fan, we can’t have our security forces run for home. They have to become a part of the community.”

  “Let’s address the issue of ideology first,” said Sarge. “How do you approach potential recruits?”

  “The three of us have spent our careers establishing friends and contacts in the military, and in the case of Steven, private contractor work,” said J.J. “In the last three years we have stepped up our efforts to identify individuals who think like we do.”

  “For example?” asked Sarge.

  “Let me start with a brief history lesson,” said Brad. Donald admired Brad for his passion of studying war and military history. Although the tactics may have changed somewhat due to advanced technology, the principles of warfare and military science were the same.

  “We all know the history of the original Loyal Nine because of our families’ lineages,” said Brad. “During the War for Independence, the colonists who actually fought on behalf of freedom amounted to no more than three percent of the population. They were the true patriots who were willing to lose their lives for the creation of our nation. They stood up against tyranny and chose freedom.”

  “As military personnel, we took an oath to support and defend the constitution,” said Steven. “The oath is sacred and as such we have formed certain beliefs. As oathkeepers, we will not obey any orders that infringe upon the rights of freedom-loving Americans.”

  “After our service ended, we met hundreds of Americans who, like the colonists, did not have a military or law enforcement background,” said J.J. “Yet they believed in the constitution and their rights to freedom and liberty. Many of them took the same oath and joined organizations identifying with the three percent.”

  “We’ve kept a black book of sorts,” said Brad. “Our contacts extend throughout the military and law enforcement around the world. Like us, when we gave the oath of enlistment, we wrote a blank check made payable to the United States of America for an amount that may include our lives. The three percent swore a similar oath and we would stand shoulder to shoulder in the event tyranny or a hostile foreign nation threatens our country.”

  “In the event America takes a drastic turn for the worst—in the form of a catastrophic collapse event, will your contacts stand with us?” asked Sarge.

  “Absolutely,” replied Brad. “When the time comes, they will form a worldwide unit using the moniker the Mechanics in honor of the Loyal Nine and the colonists who fought insurgency battles as part of the Sons of Liberty. They will also be identified by the rebellious stripes flag, again symbolic of those brave colonists who risked their lives for our freedoms.”

  “So we’ll have our own army?” asked Susan.

  “In a sense, yes,” replied Brad. “Should the country experience a catastrophic event, we will be able to gauge our government’s intentions in the first several days and weeks. If the politicians are opportunistic—using the catastrophe to infringe upon the constitutional rights of Americans—then we will be able to mobilize quickly to protect ourselves and others.”

  “At some point, we knew a decision would have to be reached that sets our plan into motion,” said Steven. “We think the time is now. The signs are all there. The very nature and existence of this project screams wake up!”

  “What do you need from me?” asked Donald.

  “We have to build this facility and protect its privacy,” replied Brad. “I have identified a small cadre of two dozen soldiers from Fort Devens who will stand with us and help make this operation a reality. They will want assurances, which I can provide. They will need pay for themselves and their families.”

  “Done. I don’t need to ask.”

  “Also, we will need equipment,” added Steven. “This will include weaponry, tactical gear and security gear.”

  “Make a list and I’ll get it for you,” replied Donald. “What else?”

  “That’s it from the defense side,” replied Brad.

  “I think this operation needs a name,” said Donald. “Something that doesn’t scream bug-out location.”

  “I’ve got it, DQ,” said Steven. “Welcome to the Quabbin Reservoir, designed and constructed by DQ and Susie Q—the Triple Q Ranch.”

  Chapter 31

  June 30, 2016

  100 Beacon

  Boston, Massachusetts

  “Julia, what can I do to help?” asked Katie as she set her wineglass on the kitchen island.

  “You’re fine, Katie,” replied Julia. “Just keep the boys drinking. Maybe we can loosen them up and take advantage of their bodies.” They both laughed.

  “Wait, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

  “We’re part of the new liberated women of America,” replied Julia. “Pretty soon we’ll dictate the terms of sexual interaction.” Their laughter drew the attention of the guys.

  “Hey, bro, I sniff a conspiracy brewing in the kitchen, along with something else incredible,” said Steven as he hugged Katie around the waist and smelled her neck.

  “Get off me, you beast!”

  “You don’t mean it,” he replied.

  “Listen up, you two, dinner first, then we will negotiate the terms of dessert,” said Julia. “Hey, Sarge, what has you engrossed over there?”

  “Same shit, different day. I was just watching the footage from a protest gone wild in Manhattan. Social unrest is happening all over.”

  “Sarge is right,” added Steven. “My buddy Ray Bower is a hedge fund guy and was in the conference hall when the melee broke out.”

  “What happened?” asked Julia.

  “It’s like Sarge said, same shit, different day. Out of nowhere, protestors crammed their way into the Waldorf ballroom, where a hedge fund conference was under way. They shouted the usual drivel about increasing the minimum wage and jail the bankers.”

  “I had the same experience during my trip to Nashville last week,” said Sarge. “It didn’t interrupt my presentation at the Opryland Hotel, but the protestors invaded the Garden Observatory, where several of us were having dri
nks that night. Supposedly they were brought in by rented school buses and entered the hotel by the hundreds. It was chaos.”

  “When does peaceful protest become outright harassment?” asked Katie.

  “Interesting you bring that up, Katie,” replied Sarge. “As the protestors bullied their way through the hotel guests, a young girl became frightened and fell down an escalator. She was injured and taken to a hospital. It did not, however, stop the protestors from disrupting the entire complex.”

  “What can be done?” asked Julia.

  “Just shoot ’em!” exclaimed Steven. “I mean, enough is enough already.”

  “This may sound out of line, but I almost get the sense they want that to happen,” said Sarge. “These protests are growing in intensity and frequency. The demonstrations are no longer confined to the top ten metro areas. Nashville is a typical Southern city in Tennessee, not exactly a hotbed of social outcry.”

  “I’m just saying, it’s gonna blow at some point,” added Steven.

  “Here is what else I learned,” continued Sarge. “This is especially true in the South, it appears. Normally quiet white suburbanites are becoming more active. The military’s Jade Helm activities have expanded from the Southwest throughout the Southeast. State and local politicians are being extremely vocal about why the Jade Helm exercises are confined to their regions and not the Northeast or Midwest. The soccer moms are up in arms. Local Tea Party organizations are putting together counterdemonstrations when the Black Lives Matter crowd shows up. There was a significant physical altercation between protesting groups at the Perimeter Mall in Sandy Springs, Georgia, an affluent white suburb of Atlanta. As the demonstrators are emboldened by their leaders and the lack of government intervention, they begin to disrupt the lives of Americans who ordinarily don’t give a shit.”

  “It’s gonna blow,” said Steven dryly.

  Katie poured Sarge another glass of wine. Julia looked at him and saw he was unwinding. His travel schedule was hectic and he was burdened by what he saw around the country. He also expressed his concern about getting the Triple Q Ranch operational. Collectively, the Loyal Nine felt the trouble coming at them like a freight train.

  Sarge continued. “As I travel around the country promoting the book, the venues are filled with people chanting Choose Freedom and waving the Rebellious Flag. I know a book cover can be inspiring, but I am humbled at the response.”

  “But it’s more than that, right, Sarge?” asked Julia. She gestured for everyone to take a seat at the dining table.

  “It is. Choose Freedom has become a rallying cry. The Rebellious Flag is a symbol of America’s desire to support the constitutional principles established by our Founding Fathers.”

  “Sarge has become a recognized expert on the concept of American and state sovereignty,” said Julia. “But it also appears he is becoming a renowned spokesman for personal and economic freedom. Honey, you are becoming a leader.”

  “Put Sarge in charge! Sarge for President,” hollered Steven, raising his glass to toast.

  “Fuckin’ forget it! I’ve got enough trouble.” Sarge had enough on his plate, including a salad that Julia just served to her guests. He poured on the chipotle dressing.

  “But I will say this. Like we discussed the other day, when the shit hits the fan, we will need allies—true patriots who will work with us to put this humpty dumpty of a country back together again. As I travel, I have established a network of folks who will help us when the time comes. They are oathkeepers, three percenters, NRA members, tea party supporters and average joes from all walks of life who believe in a better America.”

  “He sounds like a politician to me.” Steven laughed, just before a cherry tomato bounced off his forehead.

  PART THREE

  Chapter 32

  July 4, 2016

  The Hack House

  Binney Street

  East Cambridge, Massachusetts

  “How can you call yourself a hacker and not be a student of Greek mythology?” asked Walthaus.

  “C’mon, man, I’m a computer geek, not a philosopher,” replied Malvalaha. “When I grew up, the only thing I associated with Trojans was that pack of rubbers my father gave me when we had the talk.”

  “That’s gross, Leo,” chimed in Fakhri.

  “What’s gross about it? It’s a guy thing.”

  “Seriously, the Trojan horse was a game changer,” said Walthaus. “It put an end to a war that completely caught the enemy off guard.”

  Lau listened in amusement from his office as the Zero Day Gamers killed time waiting for tonight’s fireworks. As always, their project and its implementation was thoroughly researched. Walthaus always took it a step further.

  “The Greeks and the Trojans fought a bloody war for a decade. After one particular epic battle, the Greeks appeared to be in retreat. Achilles, the great Greek warrior, was dead. So was his contemporary, Hector, leader of the Trojans. This left the two sides evenly matched.”

  Lau entered the room to join the conversation.

  Walthaus continued. “Eventually, the Greek ships were seen leaving Troy, although they hid just out of sight. Before they sailed, the Greeks delivered a giant wooden object made to look like a horse. The Trojans, believing victory to be in hand, thought the wooden horse was a parting gift from their enemy—a present to the gods.”

  “Odysseus designed it,” added Lau. The three soldiers of the Zero Day Gamers turned their heads toward Lau in amazement. “He was not a warrior, but Odysseus was very clever. He proved wars could be won using brains instead of brawn.”

  “You know this stuff, boss?” asked Fakhri.

  “Like Walthaus, I like to know the why—as well as the how. Continue, please.”

  “The Trojans celebrated their victory and contemplated burning the wooden horse as a tribute. However, their celebration lasted late into the night and the drunken party took its toll. While they slept, the Greeks climbed down from the belly of the Trojan horse, opened the city gates and ushered in the rest of the Greek army. They pillaged and burned Troy.”

  “The moral of the story is beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” added Lau.

  “If you put this into the context of what we do, it makes perfect sense,” said Malvalaha. “Viruses and Trojan horses are both destructive programs that masquerade as a seemingly benign application. Both programs enter the network by invitation. Unlike viruses, after a Trojan horse enters the network, it does not replicate. It waits. It is triggered by an event or instructions or the passage of time.”

  “My freshmen commonly misuse the terminology,” said Lau. “The most common mistake people make when discussing computer viruses is to refer to a worm or Trojan horse as a virus. The terms are used interchangeably, which is a mistake. Right, Walthaus?”

  “Yes, sir. A virus attaches itself to a program or file, enabling it to spread from one computer to another, leaving infections as it travels. Almost all viruses are attached to an executable file, which means the virus may exist on your computer but it actually cannot cause damage until it is activated by a malicious program.”

  “I prefer worms,” said Malvalaha.

  “Of course you do,” replied Fakhri. Lau watched the interaction between the two and wondered if they’d stepped up their relationship.

  “No, really. Worms do all the work and have the ability to replicate themselves on the system. A worm can send out thousands of copies of itself. For example, a worm delivers a copy to everyone in someone’s email address book. Then, the worm replicates and sends itself out to everyone listed in each of the receivers’ address books, and the process continues down the line. It’s exponential.”

  “Then there’s Vegas,” said Walthaus.

  In February, the Zero Day Gamers executed an incredible hack of the Las Vegas power grid. Hired by the local unions, their task was to create a power outage on the famed Las Vegas Strip, giving the unions cover for a massive work stoppage. The stoppage enabled the unions to gai
n the upper hand in some contentious contract negotiations with the casinos. The implementation was complex, but flawless. Within the hacking community, the Gamers became legendary. To everyone else, they were quickly becoming public enemy number one.

  “Vegas was epic,” said Malvalaha. “The GIF-and-INF cocktail was the perfect blended threat. Very sophisticated. As far as I know, no one has publicly disclosed the details of how we pulled this off.”

  “Blended threats are considered to be the worst risk to security since the introduction of the virus,” said Fakhri. “Rather than a predetermined attack on a specific EXE file, the blended threats will do multiple malicious acts like modifying EXE files, HTML files and registry keys at the same time.”

  “They wreak havoc, which brings us to tonight’s fireworks,” said Lau. “It’s time to play.”

  Lau approached the wall adjoining his office and opened two curtains to reveal a large-screen television. Using the remote, he changed the monitor’s input until it reached hdmi. He brought up the NASA live stream for the International Space Station on uStream.

  “It’s Independence Day, but only by coincidence,” started Lau. “We chose this day because it is a new moon, which reduces the amount of ambient sunlight reflecting off the Moon. It creates ideal conditions for viewing from the ISS. We will get to watch the fireworks right here.” Lau pointed to the monitor.

  “The ISS will fly over the facility for five minutes this evening,” said Walthaus. “They will have a bird’s-eye view, as will we.”

  When Lau was contacted by Greenpeace via HackersList, he took a moment to consider the consequences of their request. When Greenpeace was founded, the group actively opposed nuclear power. Their position softened under the suggestion of Canadian ecologist Patrick Moore. Nuclear power was considered as the lesser of two evils, causing some leaders of the group to recognize nuclear energy as a viable alternative to fossil fuels and greenhouse gases. Moore was forced out, and the group was again on an antinuclear rampage. They were looking for an opportunity to raise awareness about the dangers of nuclear power, and they found one.