Returning to Zero (Mick O'Malley Series Book 2)

by Alan B. Johnston

  Hope we meet soon.

  DEADBEEF

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  Mick read and re-read the mail, shaking his head in disbelief. Someone had detected his presence in the General’s network, but apparently not the General. Who? And how did they know it was him?

  He grinned to himself at the writer’s choice of alias, DEADBEEF, a hexadecimal magic number. Hexadecimal numbers are base 16 instead of base 10 for decimal numbers, and use 0-9 and letters A-F to represent the numbers 0-15. Magic numbers are hexadecimal numbers that spell words, making them easily recognizable in the middle of otherwise random numbers on a screen or printout. The number DEADBEEF had been used many times in the past in computer files as a magic number, and now it was the alias of his new correspondent, who it seemed shared his sense of humor.

  Mick had an idea how to decrypt the attachment. He always encrypted and authenticated all the email he sent and received. He used PGP, Pretty Good Privacy, encryption software. His PGP public key was widely known in security circles, and anyone emailing him would use this key to encrypt messages to him before sending it over the Internet. When he received these messages, Mick used his private key, known only to him, to decrypt the message and read the mail. As long as only he knew the private key associated with the public key, Mick was the only one who could read the emails.

  The emails he sent and received as ‘Finbar’ were associated with a different PGP public key—it was this other private key that he used to decrypt this email. Clearly, the message body was encrypted with Mick’s old public key. The fact he could read this email proved he was ‘Finbar,’ but if he could read the attachment, that proved he was also Mick.

  With a few typed commands, Mick applied his old key to the attachment and decrypted it. He looked up the coordinates on an offline map—he didn’t want these coordinates going out into the cloud. He was surprised that it was a location just two states away in Utah, not too far from Salt Lake City.

  Interesting.

  When Jasinski awoke, he told her about the surprising mail, and she began doing some re-search on DEADBEEF, but came up with very little.

  “When is the meeting happening?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “Can we get there in time?”

  “Yes, if we leave tomorrow.” Mick was already starting to choose a route in his mind.

  “How did he detect us?”

  “I have no idea—I have been very careful. He must be monitoring the General’s network—or trying to break in as well! I wonder how he knew it was me?”

  “Could it be the General?” she asked. Mick thought for a moment before replying.

  “I don’t think so. Why would he toy with us like this? If the General knew we were here, he’d have paid us a visit by now, right?”

  “Right. Makes sense.”

  The news the next day was very interesting. A new cache of documents about the U.S. government’s surveillance program were dropped at a leaks site. Journalists were going through them and posting live on social media what they found. It was explosive stuff. Just like the previous leaked documents, these documents surprised even the most paranoid with the scope and scale of the Internet surveillance effort. Also shocking was how little attention was paid to privacy or even legality. Journalists said it would take weeks if not months to go through all the documents.

  It seemed DEADBEEF was either responsible for the leaks or knew about them. Either way, it seemed he was on their side. Or was pretending to be.

  Chapter A.

  From the Privacy and Other Mirages Blog:

  A friend of mine said that we are living in a ‘surveillance state’. What does that mean? What can we do about it?

  Unfortunately, I agree with your friend. The pervasive use of the Internet by nearly everyone in the world has led to pervasive monitoring of the Internet by various groups. I think that industry was at it first, collecting and amassing databases of all our activities for the purpose of showing us targeted ads. Advertising is what pays for all those ‘free’ services on the Internet. Have you heard the saying: If you aren’t paying for a service, then you aren’t the customer, you are the product being sold!

  Governments and intelligence agencies around the world have stepped up their monitoring of the Internet over the years. Why do you think they are building huge data centers out in the desert? Of course, with the Snowden revelations, we now know the extent of what at least one well-resourced government is doing. We can assume that other governments are doing the same. I don’t want to portray the NSA as the only bad guys--they are just the bad guys that we know about, and could, theoretically be asked to respect laws and constitutions. Other countries and other governments, much less so.

  As to what we can do? For one thing, we can all use more encryption. We can do small, incremental things that make it harder for people to track us. We also need to pay attention to the battles between governments and Internet companies. Many Internet companies are trying to do the right thing for users privacy, and governments don’t like it. Governments will make all kinds of crazy arguments, but basically they would prefer to be able to monitor all their citizens activity on the net at all times and have this information stored in an easily searchable database.

  Think carefully through that last sentence--is that what we really want?

  Chapter B.

  Ja2 How can you be sure a friend is a friend and an enemy is an enemy? #questions

  Two days later, Mick and Jasinski walked up a steep trail just outside of Park Hills, Utah. The geo-coordinates of the meeting location were just ahead of them, at a scenic overlook of the valley below. There was a light snow covering—not enough to ski or make hiking difficult, but enough to make it look nice. Mick had missed winter when he had switched hemispheres months ago.

  Ahead of them, Mick saw the back of someone who was standing at the overlook. As Mick came along side, the person turned.

  “Hello, Mick. Glad you could make it,” said a voice. The person was black, middle-aged, shorter than average height, and, a woman.

  “DEADBEEF?” Mick replied, and she nodded.

  “It is a pleasure meeting you, but I don’t have time to chat, although I have a million questions about what you have been up to and where you have been. Am I correct that you are trying to break into the General’s network?” Mick nodded. DEADBEEF spoke evenly, even formally, with a slight southern drawl. For some reason, Mick thought: Navy. “I might be able to help you. I was once inside his cabin, which is how I planted my exploit. I haven’t been able to do much with it so far, but it is likely your skills are better than mine. Oh, and nice to meet you,” she said, seeming to notice Jasinski for the first time.

  “I’m Turing,” she replied, using her old alias. “Who are you to have been at the General’s cabin?”

  “She’s NSA,” Mick replied, and DEADBEEF nodded. “And she probably works at the infamous Utah Data Center just down the road.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Well, that was good stuff you leaked. Everyone needs to know about this unconstitutional crap the NSA is up to.”

  “Thank you. As I said, I’d love to talk, but I need to keep moving. This will probably be our one and only meeting, unless I am mistaken.

  “Here is a list of all the equipment in the General’s cabin and what I have been able to find out about it. Hopefully you can find a vulnerability and get the information you are looking for. I presume it relates to Zed dot Kicker?” This time it was Mick’s turn to nod. “Good luck. I must run. Maybe we will meet again, Mick and Turing, in better times, when standing up for privacy doesn’t make you guilty of espionage.”

  DEADBEEF turned and walked off in the opp
osite direction and was quickly around the bend and out of sight.

  Mick exchanged a glance with Jasinski, then started memorizing the hand-written list he had been given. He pulled a box of matches out of his pack and lit the paper on fire. When it was fully burned, he stepped on it to break up the ashes, then emptied his water bottle all over it to cool it down.

  “Let’s get out of here!”

  “Would you stop doing that—no one is following us!” Jasinski said to him, annoyed. She had caught him numerous times repeatedly staring in the rear-vision mirror as he drove back to Montana.

  But Mick didn’t stop until they arrived back at the relative safety of their campsite a few hours later, where he was able to start to relax.

  The next few days were spent researching the equipment list that DEADBEEF provided. He mentally thanked DEADBEEF multiple times every day for the inside information. He did some searching and found a university in Florida that had the same equipment and version in a lab as the General. He simulated various attacks and eventually found one that got him inside. However, the attack wasn’t subtle, so the General would probably be alerted to the attack as soon as they launched it.

  Mick started carefully planning all the steps, and most importantly, their exit strategy.

  Once he had a plan, Mick began carefully tracking the weather, looking for just the right low pressure system that would meet his needs. The early spring weather was just not cooperating, and he was stuck in a waiting pattern, for perhaps as long as a week, he estimated. The waiting was starting to get to him, so he told Jasinski, who was starting to go stir crazy as well, that they would take a break for three days.

  He powered down the network and they packed up and drove to the city of Billings where they found the Paleontology Institute of Montana.

  “So we are visiting a museum?” Jasinski asked.

  “Not exactly. We will actually be doing some work,” he replied.

  “Work? As in digging?”

  “Exactly!”

  “We are going on a dinosaur dig?”

  “Why not? Have you ever done it before?”

  “No, I have not,” Jasinski replied.

  “Well then. Neither have I. I have tried opal mining in Western Australia, and diamond digging in Arkansas, but never a real dig!” Mick replied, getting excited.

  “I see,” Jasinski responded, resigned to her fate.

  At the dig, Mick nearly forgot about the General, the botnet, NØviz, and DEADBEEF, although he did routinely check western weather patterns three times per day. They ended up on a dig that was uncovering some excellent Velociraptor specimens. Mick stared in amazement at the fossilized skeleton, curled and contorted in death, where it had laid to rest on an ancient river mud flat. His most exciting moment was carefully removing a three-fingered claw from the dirt. He mugged for a photograph taken by Jasinski holding the claw. He felt genuinely happy, something he hadn’t been in many months. He even had a few stray thoughts about RAPtOR, the organization he had founded many years earlier—the Raptor Association for the Promotion Of Raptors, which of course was named in honor of Velociraptors. But that was long before the botnet began occupying him with excavations of another sort entirely.

  They returned from the expedition when the weather forecast indicated that a potentially suitable low pressure system was on its way. Mick re-activated the mesh wireless network and resumed surveillance of the cabin—ready to execute their plan. The mesh network linked together all the access points into a self-organized network without any centralized control or service provider.

  “Time to do this,” Mick told Jasinski once their preparations were complete and they had packed up their campsite. She nodded and they went into the woods together.

  For the first time, Mick felt a twinge of fear. Despite their preparations, anything could happen, and probably would.

  Mick and Jasinski were dressed in camouflage gear, ready to make their rapid exit.

  Mick got set up at his remote hacking site, at the end of his improvised network. He launched the attack by starting a script.

  Here we go!

  Jasinski monitored the network and the surveillance systems, alert for signs that their attack had been detected. Mick monitored the results of the script on his computer, looking for evidence that he had cracked the network.

  “Yes!” he exclaimed after a minute. He and Jasinski exchanged a high five, celebrating that he was finally through the firewall and into the General’s network. He spidered the network, finding a server called archaeopteryx that seemed to have the strongest protection.

  “This is it!” he said aloud, pausing. “Anything?” Jasinski looked up from her screen and shook her head.

  “Time to see what databases the General has at his perusal.”

  Mick was astonished a moment later when he realized what he had found.

  “Jaz, look at this! Can you believe it? I… I,” he stammered.

  “Just run your search, dammit!”

  “Right, OK. Here goes.” He executed the script that searched for NØviz and compiled all the results. He glanced over them—there seemed to be a lot of information there.

  NØviz, are you in there?

  “They are on to you!” Jasinski suddenly cried. She pulled her headset out so Mick could hear the phone call that the General had just received.

  “What?” said the voice of the General to the person on the other end of the phone. “That’s not possible. They would need to have… to be…” The audio streaming carried a crashing sound, and they noticed on a video feed that the General had flung open his front door and was frantically looking all around.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Jasinski shouted.

  “Almost there. Done!” he replied. “Now it’s time to go!” he said as he closed the computer and packed everything quickly in the pack. He handed it to Jasinski who added her equipment, then she put it on her back.

  They dashed down the trail. They climbed down an embankment and waded across a fast-flowing stream.

  Just a little further.

  They stopped running at a large bush next to a boulder. Mick pulled off a net to reveal a dirt bike—a Yamaha WR45ØF off-road motorcycle, only slightly used. He pulled on the black protective clothing from a backpack and boots while Jasinski did the same. In less than a minute, he was straddling the bike. He always preferred kick starting motorcycles, but the electric start on this bike was fast, and after a few seconds, a deep 4-stroke exhaust note filled the air. Jasinski climbed on the back and wrapped her arms around his middle, locking them together.

  Time for some fun!

  He squeezed the clutch, kicked it down into first, and twisted the throttle. A rooster tail of dirt flew in the other direction, and the Yamaha lurched forward carrying them away from the cabin.

  With a passenger, Mick was forced to ride sitting down and slid all the way forward on the seat, an uncomfortable position for off-road riding. In anticipation of this, he had adjusted the suspension on the 45Ø, softening and controlling the rebound, and also running the lowest tire pressure he dared. It seemed to be paying off as he was able to pick his way along the path, bouncing over rocks and roots without losing control or slowing down. Ahead, his first major obstacle—a log lying across the trail.

  He slowed down, leaned back, allowing time for Jasinski to move with him. He touched the front brake for an instant, then twisted the throttle, raising the front wheel off the ground. It cleared the log, and he backed off on the throttle as the log hit the rear wheel, bumping up and over. Jasinski’s helmet bumped into his back, and she gripped him tighter. He swerved slightly to the right and left before regaining full control. Just as they had practiced a few days earlier.

  Thank you sir, may I have another?

  A few minutes later, he heard another sound over the 45Ø engine—a chop, chop, chop sound that was getting louder.

  Mick felt Jasinski tapping him on the shoulder and he nodded back. Helicopters. Even though he
had expected it, he had still hoped it wouldn’t come to this. A black base must be nearby—more proof, if any were needed, that the General was hardly retired.

  Mick rode harder, trying to stay under the cover of the trees. He knew he was miles away from any real roads, so there was very little they could do right now besides follow with the helicopters. He just needed a little more time. He glanced towards the horizon and liked what he saw.

  Chapter C.

  “What happened?”

  “It seems someone has tapped into your network and cracked your firewall!”

  “Did you apprehend them?”

  “Not yet, but we will have them soon. We traced a mesh WiFi network through the woods and are in pursuit.”

  “Let me know when you have them.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The General hung up the phone and stared out the window. Who had cracked his network? What were they after?

  He checked his access network logs and noted unsurprisingly that they had all been erased. Then he checked his hardware network logger and was pleased to note that its logs had not been replaced. He pulled up a list of files accessed. It seemed that a number of queries related to the alias “NØviz” had been made.

  He picked up the phone and made a call.

  Chapter D.

  Ja2 If everyone is out to get you, is it still possible to be paranoid? #modernlife #questions

  The black helicopters were still hovering overhead as Mick wound his way along the trail. From the map he had memorized, he knew there was a fork coming up that would telegraph his intended direction. And with paved roads coming up on either side, he was running out of room to maneuver.

  Then, it finally came. The sky darkened, and the temperature dropped. The low pressure weather system he had been tracking for the past forty-eight hours had finally arrived, bringing a snap thunderstorm. The wind changed direction and picked up dramatically. He smiled inside his helmet, imagining the conversation inside the helicopters.