“McClellan? How is that Barinian? “
“Believe it or not, the Ayatollah’s daughter married an Irish IRA Captain. His knowledge of the Western world became invaluable to them. His dislike of the British and its allies, including the US, made him a most willing recruit. His ruthlessness and cunning led to several black ops successes. So he rose rapidly through the ranks and since he is ‘family,’ he has the trust and support of the rulers.”
Almost talking to myself, I said, “I’m not sure we can fill Favor in on all this, but she seems like a good guy. Not just a suit with a badge.”
“Do you trust her?” Frank said.
“I do, but she has people she reports to who will want details. Let me talk to her and see just how far to go. I think if Favor is with us, we have some smart, connected help. But this is bigger than a good detective can handle. What about Defense? Do we go to them with this? They could put their whole Cyber Unit on it.
Frank looked pensive. “If we get Defense involved, they’ll want our technology. Then it’s just like the atomic bomb all over again. Defense or somebody in charge could abuse it. They can shut down our ‘enemies’ or the technology could leak and we have proliferation, like Pakistan and North Korea all over again, Dr. Strangelove.”
“I just don’t know…I do know we don’t have the resources to battle the Barinians on our own. We might solve the case and die trying. Ooops, sorry, you already have, but we might all totally die trying,” I said.
“You are correct about one thing. Cotton probably wanted to kill all of us. So yes, we’re all in danger, but we have an advantage.”
“What’s that?”
Frank smiled. “We have the technology first. So we are a step ahead and we have me, the first Cyber Warrior.”
CHAPTER 14
RULE BREAKERS
The next day, the storm hit the West Coast. Hurricane Isaac. Hurricanes don’t usually travel that far west, but this one did. Power lines were down and roads blocked. We were prepared to stay at the office and we had a generator, but Internet connections were spotty. This made working with Frank an on-and-off experience and a bit exasperating. It was like the early days of cell phones—“Can you hear me now?”
I reached out to Favor and she met me at the office. Her hair and coat were dripping wet. “Some storm,” she said, tilting her head up and blowing out smoke from her e-cigarette. Then she shook all over like a wet dog, sending drops of water everywhere.
“Yuck, thanks for the shower. The weather just adds to some of our current challenges,” I said. “And don’t those things still give you cancer?”
“Well, I’m glad you’re concerned for my health. In my line of work, I’d be happy to live long enough for it to be a problem. I’ll be like the ninety-five year old woman who says, ‘If I knew I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself.’” She blew a few smoke rings above my head just to tease me. We both laughed. “OK. So you didn’t call me here to discuss my health. Why’d you drag me out here in such rotten weather?”
“Al, can I tell you something in strict confidence? Can you keep it to yourself, or do you have to report everything back?”
“Well that depends. I can’t hide anything material to an investigation or obstruct justice unless…”
“Unless, what?” I wondered.
“Unless, you give me a good reason to.” She smiled. I just felt in my gut at that moment I could trust her.
I told her the whole story from the beginning. It felt good to get it off my chest with someone who was becoming a fast friend. She said very little, but I could see her face going through myriad expressions, including shock and disbelief.
I wound up my long exposition with a question. “So what would you do next, as John Stuart Mill would say, to do ‘the greatest good for the greatest number of people?’”
She sat quietly for a few minutes, but I could tell her wheels were turning. “Philosophy 101 aside, you’ve got a pretty complex case here. It’s a murder, a matter of national security and a ‘clear and present danger.’ I know they’re all related, but we have to prioritize and start somewhere.”
“I think we have to start with the ‘clear and present danger.’ Hmm, did you go to law school or something? Doesn’t matter. Meanwhile, if something should happen to me, here are the logins, passwords and access you’ll need to reach me in cyberspace. There’s a chance they’ll get to me too,” I said.
“Not if I can help it. But as you yourself say, we can’t fight Barin alone. Believe it or not, my brother is one of those long-haired, crazy hackers that got recruited to the Scaggers. Once he got over the notion of being part of the ‘establishment,’ he really got into it. Maybe he and a few of his buddies can help.”
I thought about this. We obviously needed help, but “Won’t he have the problem of having to tell his bosses and then we have Defense move in and take over?”
“He’s more of a rule breaker than I am, and he’s the smartest geek I know. He’ll love this challenge,” she said.
“Al, I really appreciate you volunteering your brother, but this could be really dangerous for him and his friends. They might also be breaching whatever security agreements they have with the government.”
“Sounds to me like we’re all in real danger anyway and don’t have much choice. I’d rather be working this with someone I trust, rather than a bunch of bureaucrats with hidden agendas. I’ll set up a meeting,” Al said.
“Better make it fast.”
CHAPTER 15
KILLER
The next day the weather had cleared. We met at the Riverside Café, an old rough-hewn coffee spot that overlooked the Little River nearby. The sun glistened off the rippling water, and the air had that clean washed ozone scent of after storm.
Al walked in with a pretty normal looking, if not Midwestern, young man in his twenties. No long hair, no ponytail. Just big rimmed glasses that made his eyes look like they were under a magnifying glass. Jeans, with real holes at the knees, and a T-shirt. This guy might be good in a cyber-battle, but I wouldn’t want him covering me in a street shootout.
“This is Killer, my brother,” Al started. “Killer, meet Sam and Bart.”
“Killer—that’s an interesting name,” I said.
“Oh, it’s a nickname I garnered when I won the ‘League of Legends’ International Championship,” he said.
Maybe he would be good in a street fight.
“But I don’t have much time for it anymore. Fighting cyber-terror keeps me pretty busy.” He gave me a devilish smile, which told me he was either joking or up to some other kind of trouble. “Al told me you guys had something pretty urgent to talk about. What’s up?”
I looked at Al—where to start. “Killer, have you heard of any of the work being done in Digital Personalities and Digital-Human simulations?”
“Sure. I know DOD has some stuff going on there. Plus I’ve always been a big fan of Max Headroom.” Killer smiled that wry smile again.
I wanted to say, “You and every freakin’ geek I know.” But instead I said, “We’ve done it for real.” I let that sink in. Killer’s smiled vanished and now he looked very focused. It was a long jump from where we started to the Cyber Warrior threat, but I figured Killer to be a quick study. It’s amazing how some people, the really capable ones, get strangely calm and focused when faced with a threat or an emergency. Killer was in that mode now. I could tell.
After I finished bringing him up to date, I sat silently and could see Killer’s wheels turning. “I could say, ‘What do you want from me,’ but let’s skip all that nonsense. You’ve got, I mean ‘we’ve’ got a big problem. You need my help and maybe help from a couple of my buddies. You can’t risk bringing it through official channels. I get that. I’m in. You can count on me. This is ‘not a test.’ This is real, but in this case we’ll need to run, not walk, to the exits.”
Like Al, I liked Killer immediately and was amazed at how fast his mind worked, how
quickly he grasped the situation and most of all, how quickly he decided to join us and spring into action.
CHAPTER 16
WAR ROOM
Sometimes life takes some strange turns, particularly when you are on a global rollercoaster. We decided to set up a “War Room” in the basement of our office building. Somehow a basement, like a bunker, seemed right. We also created a virtual network of computers with all our code and knowledge base in one place including digital backups of the whole team’s personalities. There was one really unusual thing about this network for the 21st Century—it was “air-gapped,” meaning it wasn’t connected to the Internet. We couldn’t take the risk of being hacked or attacked. Al, Bart and Killer could run simulations of Cyber War testing attacks and defenses, but they would have to be physically present to do so.
Don’t get me wrong—we weren’t cyber-hermits. We had a separate set of machines in the War Room connected to the Internet, but any programs we wanted to try in the “real” world would have to be hand carried on flash drives from the private network to the public one. No files could travel the other way or they might infect our environment. The guys named our private world “Zelda” for some reason. Some clever geek reference I’m sure.
One of the first things programmers learn is that when you have a problem or a bug in the code, you have to be able to reproduce it. Once you can reproduce it, you can usually figure out a way to fix it or kill it. So the first order of business for the team was to hack the enemy program and try to reproduce it in Zelda. Easy to say, but incredibly hard to do. This is very high-level stuff. Killer brought in a couple of buddies, Jay and Jazzle, to take it on. Jay was reserved and pensive. Jazzle was a Filipino fireball. We spent several hours vetting them both before deciding we could trust them. We needed the smartest guys and girls in the room, or in this case the cyber-world, and we got them.
Besides the threat posed by our enemy, our biggest problem was time. We didn’t know how long we would have before some serious attacks, but we knew it wouldn’t be long. Unfortunately, it came only a few days after we set up Zelda and brought Jay and Jazzle on board. We think it was just a trial run to see if they could do it. Quite simply, they took down the power grid for the entire Northeast US. From 8:00 PM June 23rd to 11:00 AM June 24th, from New York to Boston and West to Chicago, it went dark. People were stuck on subways and elevators. Many essential services went dark. Fortunately, many hospitals and law enforcement had generators to operate at least at a minimal level. Hurricane Sandy had taught them that lesson. It was also good that the weather was a bit milder this time of year, so nobody froze to death.
However, the really scary part was that we had no control over it and could not fix it. When the lights came back on, it was not our doing. We got the message, “This is a test and only a test. In case of a real emergency…” Oh Lord, what would a “real emergency” look like?
CHAPTER 17
KEVLAR
LaSalam looked vexed. He straightened his tie in the mirror and lightly pulled on the ends of his black mustache. Viktor walked into the master bedroom of the Leopard’s New York hotel suite.
“If it isn’t the ghost of Mr. Clean.” LaSalam said.
“Very funny. Thank God for Kevlar.”
“Well we fired a shot across the bow and it had the desired effect. They are in complete panic in Washington,” the Leopard mused. “But you failed to eliminate Sunborn and his pesky team. Can you take care of it, or do I have to bring in some real men from the homeland? The Dagger wants this taken care of.”
By this time, Viktor was immune to LaSalam’s taunts. He knew this was LaSalam’s style and he’d endured much worse in the military. “I have a plan and I have help this time. You just do your job and I’ll do mine.”
“Well. Hopefully, I can do mine better than you have done yours so far. The next surprise should really stagger the Great Satan.” The Leopard smiled to himself. This will be a lot of fun, he thought.
CHAPTER 18
THE VISITOR
That night, it felt like I hadn’t been home in weeks and I needed a break. I pulled up the gravel driveway hearing the familiar crunch of stone. I always liked gravel. It made me feel like I was in the country. Pavement made me feel like I was at Walmart.
I was surprised to see a black Cadillac SUV at the head of the circular drive by the front door. That was strange. I could feel the hair rise on the back of my neck.
Al, of all people, suggested I carry a gun, a 9mm Beretta 92FS. Compact, easy-to-carry and lethal. I had some training when I worked as a civilian at an FBI training facility many moons ago. So I wasn’t afraid to use one, but I also respected the danger involved. Since we had beefed up security at both the office and home, I called up the security app on my phone that let me scan the video monitors in my home. Kitchen—empty. Tap. Bedrooms—empty. Tap. Living room—man in a suit sitting on the sofa talking to Monica. They both appeared calm but engaged.
There was a soft click as I opened the front door. I tried to stand still in the foyer and listen to the conversation. The man’s back was to me and Monica hadn’t registered my presence yet. I couldn’t hear anything so I stepped into the room. ”Hello, honey!” I said.
The man spun around. He looked familiar, the bald head. He was holding a pistol with silencer at waist level. I don’t know guns well enough to tell you what kind it was, but it looked like a big mother.
One thing I have always had is quick reflexes. I also knew that the first ten seconds are the most important in a confrontation. I wasn’t going to wait, let him take Monica hostage and negotiate. That’s a loser almost every time. I took one step backward into the foyer and pulled my gun from my jacket pocket. A bullet clipped the wood molding in front of me and splinters flew in my direction. Here’s where the brain shuts off and the gut takes over. I stepped back into the archway of the living room and just starting firing as fast as I could. Then I felt a thud in my left shoulder like I had been punched. I didn’t even look down as the pain started and the blood ran down my shirt. I just kept firing and stepping forward until I emptied the clip and the man in the suit lay dead in a pool of blood on the floor. I thought it was Mr. Clean, but it wasn’t. Could have been his brother.
My house. My wife. Don’t fuck with me, I thought and then, “Ouch, that hurts like a bitch.”
Monica, who looked ashen and stunned, seemed to wake as from a dream and ran to me. “You’re hurt,” she said, gently caressing my arms. Then, on the floor, I saw the lifeless bodies of the two bodyguards who were there to protect my family.
“Grab Evan and let’s get out of here!” I said.
Minutes later, we piled into my Jeep and I sprayed gravel as I floored it. Where we would go now, I wasn’t sure. I picked up my cell and dialed Al. Voicemail. Shit. I left her a brief message describing the scene at my house. I knew it wasn’t necessary to suggest it, but I urged her to get over to the scene of the crime and call me. I clicked off. Now what?
Monica was shivering in the seat beside me. I knew she wasn’t cold. It was shock. Evan was asleep in the backseat. He was always a sound sleeper and thankfully oblivious to all the excitement.
“Are you OK?” Monica said.
I looked down at my bloody shoulder. The immediate pain had turned into a dull, deep ache. I could see and feel the cool wetness of the blood on my shirt and skin. “My shoulder hurts like hell, but I’ll be fine. What about you? Did he hurt you or touch you?”
“No, I think he was waiting for you to get home. He just sat there with his gun pointed at me. He also blathered on about being on a sacred mission. He said his brother had sent him and he was very loyal to his brother. He didn’t touch me. The gun just scared the bejesus out of me.”
“I’m really sorry I got you and Evan into all this. I started it and now Frank is dead and you almost…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. My eyes welled with tears. “I’m just sorry. It’s all my fault. I thought this was a great idea that would improve and ex
tend people’s lives, not shorten them. Big mistake.’”
Monica gently touched my good shoulder. “We’ll get through this.”
“I hope so. Just know I’ll do everything I can to protect you and Evan.”
“I know that. Let’s go to the hospital first. Then we can decide where to spend the night. We’ve got to get you patched up.” She kissed me on the cheek.
“OK and I’m sure Al will have a million questions once she gets on to this.”
“Let’s just take care of you and us first.”
CHAPTER 19
PING
The next day, despite my injury, we weren’t just sitting on our hands in the wake of the blackout. The team was running all kinds of tracer programs to try to identify the source and nature of the electrical-grid attack. That’s one thing that’s still true. There is always a trail—no matter how faint. You can’t go nuclear like this and not see the dust cloud.
Bart was banging away on the computer, still in my office. His rapid clicking conveyed a sense of urgency. “You guys are good…very good. But…I’m better. Ping. Now you see me. Now you…hold it. One more time. There it is!”
I’d gotten my shoulder patched up, bullet removed and I was wearing a sling. Some good drugs and I was back at work. I looked up. “What is it?”
Bart drummed his fingers on the desk, staring intently at the screen. “I had to track back through six rerouting points. Frank helped me from inside. We think we have our villain and believe it or not, he’s in New York. But here’s the interesting part. The last reroute was through Teheran. Jesus, this looks like Stuxnet squared.”
“What the hell does that mean,” I said.
“Looks like these guys, whoever they are, planted a ‘virus’ in our electric grid. That’s bad enough but not unheard of. However, this virus is ‘alive.’ It makes decisions on its own, morphs its personality to match new situations and hides when it needs to,” he said.
Not So Dead: A Sam Sunborn Novel Page 5
