by T. K. Harris
who else do they have?
She debated for several minutes and then decided this might give her away to Barrett.
Several more minutes past.
<µβ> We'll be in contact.
Abruptly, she found herself booted. Jane stared at her screen for a few minutes, unsure if she had been successful. Finally, deciding there was nothing else she could do for now, she headed for bed. Hopefully they would contact her again soon.
Chapter Forty-Five
Greg Barrett raised a glass to toast Gillespie’s nomination as the GOP’s presidential candidate with the hundred or so other people that occupied the senator's home that night. Barrett was also celebrating the nice little deposit he'd received the night before.
He watched as the senator made his way through the congratulatory crowd. His handshakes and back slaps seemed hardy, and his smiles and laughs genuine. Barrett supposed he could be congenial as well with the first win in the presidential campaign. And it didn’t hurt that his poll numbers had climbed. But the man seemed to exude a genuine goodwill attitude as he made his way across the room. By the time he stood in front of Barrett, he found himself returning the wide grin.
"Agent Barrett."
The back slap almost sent him to his knees, wiping the smile from his face. Biting back the sudden spike of irritability, Barrett forced the smile back to his face.
"Senator! Congratulations."
Gillespie barked a laugh. "Well thank you. Of course we both know what a key player you have been in all this."
"Thank you, sir."
Gillespie smiled, turning to accept a few more congratulations, before turning back to whisper, "Any issue about our detainees beyond that press conference and the police inquiries? Are we going to have to release the names?"
"Eventually, sir. But not yet. We expected some noise of course, but the laws have been checked and double checked. We have the right to continue to hold them until we have determined the full extent of their threat to the security of this nation."
Barrett couldn't help but smile at the thought. To finally have the power and backing to take these scumbags off the street was an unbelievable feeling.
You mean the innocent ones?
He forced his smile wider, ignoring the annoying voice in his head.
They had enough evidence, he told himself again. More than enough.
He stated as much to Gillespie.
"Good to hear it. Good to hear it." Gillespie shook another hand, nodded at Barrett and plunged back into the crowd.
Relieved, Barrett downed his drink and made his way to the front door. His phone began to ring as he stepped out of the room, heading down the hall.
"Barrett."
"Did you like the little surprise you received?"
Thinking of the amount of money he had received trumped his irritation at the caller. He wanted to ask, 'What do you want now?' Instead he replied with, "Yes, indeed I did."
"Good. But you do know it is just beginning, right?"
Once more he tried to place the slight accent that wove in and out of the man's words, but failed. "Yes. And we'll be ready."
Barrett wondered again how hard it would be to track the people down he talked to regularly, if he really tried. So far, he didn't even have a name and the deposits covered too many tracks. But then, why would he want to bite the hand that fed him?
"Good. You've done very well."
"Thank you."
"You'll find a nice little extra surprise outside the senator's front door. We hope you enjoy it."
The caller hung up before he could reply. Perplexed, Barrett continued down the hall and out the door. He had long ago given up on figuring out how they always seemed to know where he was.
The first thing he noticed as the door opened, was the brunette in a driver's cap and very tight uniform. Behind her stretched a very expensive, black limo.
When she saw him, she smiled, walking to the rear door of the vehicle. "Good evening, sir."
She had a husky bedroom voice. As she opened the door, he found two more equally enticing beauties waiting for him. He smiled at the three of them as he stepped inside.
This job definitely had its perks.
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Yuri smiled as he pushed his hands in his pockets and walked back into the senator's house. Americans were so easy to manipulate. He was going to enjoy deflating the pompous fool’s ego soon.
His thoughts turned to the call he’d had with the FBI Director earlier. With his obscene demands still ringing in his ears, Yuri walked toward Gillespie to offer his congratulations. As Gillespie began spouting some nonsense Yuri didn’t bother to listen to, he thought about when and how he’d have to take care of the director. He really hated it when his pawns, bought and paid for, suddenly began to think they were more than pieces to be used at his discretion.
Chapter Forty-Six
It had taken a little longer to launch the first attacks than µβ had originally planned. Normally, getting something this simple off the ground took a few hours, a day tops if they were trying to coordinate it. But a few unexpected kinks and protests about who was doing what, and how, had delayed things. Now, finally, the first in a series of attacks was ready to launch and Michael couldn't be happier.
Especially since his mom had actually bought his story of being too sick to go to school for the last several days, but not sick enough to go to the doctor. She had been too tired from working two jobs to raise much of a protest.
Michael sat back as he watched the finalized plans scroll by in the private chat, a large smile plastered on his face. The first attack of three in Plan A would come early in the morning, EST time, and on the same day as one of the first presidential debates.
It was simple, and fairly lame, but µβ seemed to think it would be a good start.
As the clock ticked the final minutes off, Michael initiated the program that would launch the attack and ensure it got picked up by as many social media channels as possible, and then sat back and waited.
A few hours later he was smiling as the media picked up the attack, quickly shoving the rest of the news, including the upcoming debate, out the door. One article read: FBI Site Hacked. Anonymous Hackers Protest. Free the Gillespie Five.
Michael would have preferred something more elaborate, but they had to keep the initial attacks very simple while they began to execute something more intricate and personal.
The article gave a quick description of who Gillespie was and who "the five" referred to – at least generically, as the names had still not been released. It went on to speculate that the famous hacker group Unified or Anonymous may be responsible.
Michael laughed at the speculation and moved onto the second part of Plan A.
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Barrett expected the phone call and answered it, immediately assuring Gillespie he had nothing to worry about. This childish attack had been expected and would soon fizzle out of the media's attention. He didn't mention to Gillespie that, for a brief minute, he had worried someone from the hacker community was going to try and ruin him again.
As Barrett predicted, interest buzzed for two days but was quickly replaced by some Hollywood crap star, silver spoon, low life drama. It was nothing.
Two days after the first attack, another attack was launched. Simultaneous wall posts hit government and business websites around the U.S.
What happened to Due Process? Free the Gillespie Five!
Since when is it okay to hold American citizens without charges?
The world has the right to know what our government is hiding!
Hackers have rights! Free the Gillespie Five!
This time the news media started to get excited. Several reporters tried to get the senator to release names, and questions of legality escalated. Gillespie's office was flooded with calls, which m
eant that Gillespie was calling him.
Barrett assured him that this too would pass, but Gillespie wasn't so sure. He debated expediting mirandizing and transfer of the detainees, and sending them to a federal prison to await trial. Barrett begged him to hold off.
"What about releasing the names?"
"Not yet, sir. We need a few more days."
Gillespie reluctantly agreed. Instead of making an appearance, however, his office posted a statement to the media that all was within the legal boundaries and they were well within their rights under the definition of the Patriot Act to hold and question any persons deemed possible terrorists until they had been able to determine the full depth of threat.
This time, Barrett was a little worried. But not overly so. The people he worked for had assured him that everyone involved had security measures in place that would ensure they could not be hacked.
He had just started to calm down when the third attack came. It went viral. Thousands of websites around the world were hacked with varying results. The theme always the same.
Hackers have Rights! Free the Gillespie Five!
Now the media and the world were listening.
Barrett moved from worried to nervous.
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Michael was elated with the success of all three stages of Plan A. But, Plan B was a little tougher.
There was silence for a moment while the group absorbed this.
<µβ> Yes. As they say, the rabbit hole goes deeper than you realize.
<µβ> Possibly. We've had our other groups working this from all angles. And, like you said, there is no way they did this on their own.
Michael read and then reread the statement. NIL, a group of hackers who supposedly were the electronic foot soldiers for another group that was so secret it didn't even have a name, might actually exist. More than just rumors. And the group they worked for? Rumored to be a supposedly powerful group hidden by mystery, shrouded in speculation and hinted to be aligned with everyone from the aliens to the Illuminati by conspiracy theorists. The only problem was that no one had been able to really prove they existed. And now µβ, another group he had once thought only a rumor, was confirming – mostly – that this group not only existed but they may be behind their current problems.
Finally he typed.
<µβ> We don't know. Just a thought, may not be true. Whoever is helping though has locked G and B down tight.
<µβ> Plan C.
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Yuri didn't bother to alert the families that it had begun. Now that the hackers were doing exactly what he had suspected they would, the next phase had kicked in automatically. Emergency sessions started early Monday morning in Europe, just days after the escalated attacks had begun.
He turned to the many monitors on his wall, now streaming live feeds from several political houses as the well placed family members expressed outrage at the hacker attacks, emphasizing that it was time to take measures against these and future attacks. Nothing dramatic. Yet. Just new laws and protections to keep the 'innocent' from suffering from such malignant pests. By the time the U.S. woke up, they would be facing the same barrage of calls to change the laws and stop the hacker threat.
Chuckling to himself, he knew what he was watching was another phase in a very long running plan. But it was finally coming together, faster now, thanks to technology. It was just a matter of time. And the families already knew this.
Chapter Forty-Seven
When the ping came in, the sun was just coming up. Michael had started to shut things down and head to bed when the private invite chimed. Curious, but tired, he glanced to see that the invite was for #HGTTG. Yawning, he opened the chat.
<µβ> Plan C
<µβ> not this time
Michael read as µβ typed, his tiredness fleeing.
<µβ> That will be between us and not a word to the group unless we approve. Ever.
<µβ> Is that understood?
Michael was caught between loyalty to a group of people he had never met face-to-face but whom he had shared a common bond with for the last two years, and wanting to earn µβ’s trust so he could take it to the next level.
His hesitation was brief however.
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The email came in close to midnight. And it came with its own laptop.
The knock on Jane's hotel room door had startled her and it had taken a moment to register that someone was at the door. She didn't receive visitors and hadn't called room service. And she was tired. Normally, at this hour Jane would have been asleep. But ever since she'd first reached out to the hacker community nearly a week ago, she'd had problems sleeping, wondering when and how they would contact her.
Quietly, she rose and walked to her desk, pulling out her small .22 revolver. Five years in war torn countries had taught her to be cautious.
Making no noise, she moved to the door and peered through the small portal, careful to stay off to the side. Seeing no one, she tried to check for shadows and finally settled for placing her ear against the door. Minutes passed with no sound while Jane wondered if she was going to have another incident like she'd had back in Pankilla, Afghanistan.
Praying there was no one waiting to grab or shoot her this time, she opened the door, sweeping the hall with her gun aimed and ready. She felt like an idiot. And definitely did not feel as confident as she was trying to be. Finally, deciding there was no one there, she moved to close the door when she noticed the brown package at her feet.
Images of torn body parts invaded her mind as she remembered following a unit in after a bomb had exploded, killing all inside and leaving behind nothing but the brown singed paper it had been wrapped in. Much like what she was looking at now.
Before her overactive imagination could get the better of her, she noticed the sketched letters in the bottom left hand corner. µβ.
Checking the hall one last time, and finding it still empty, she picked up the package and brought it inside, bolting her door. A few minutes later she was staring at a small laptop with a sticky note attached. The note simply read: 'Open Me'.
She opened the laptop and watched as it woke quickly from hibernation to display an email. The message contained a single word 'Alice', a link, and a picture of the King and Queen of Hearts in a court room with a gigantic Alice.
She raised an eyebrow at the contents, then scanned the subject line which read, 'for gr@yg@nd01f 's eyes only'.
What the hell kind of message was that? Was it a code of some kind? She clicked on the link which pulled up an empty box with a blinking cursor, as if waiting for a response. She typed the word 'Alice' and hit the Enter key. When nothing happened she tried, 'Queen of Hearts', 'King of Hearts', 'Courtroom' and a variety of other combinations from the picture. Then she tried Googling a few things fro
m Alice and Wonderland using those terms. When still nothing happened, she decided that it wasn't for her to figure out.
"No shit, Sherlock," she said, to no one in particular. She had never been good at deciphering puzzles anyway.
What she had to figure out was how she was going to get the message delivered. She struggled to get her sleep deprived mind to come up with a plan that would give her enough time alone with Alex outside the mandatory observation room.
Jane took one last look at the strange email and decided that at least she had finally gotten a response, even if she didn't understand it. After several more minutes, with her mind supplying her no solution, she realized that it was time to get some rest. She would figure out how to deliver it tomorrow. Brain wired but exhausted, Jane crawled into bed. Five minutes later she was sound asleep.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Alex looked up when he heard the sound of the cell door opening. Framed in the door were two halves of the guards who had escorted him to his cell five days before. He had not seen anyone since.
"Get up," one of the guards ordered
For a moment, Alex could not comprehend what he was saying.
The other guard marched over and yanked him by the arm. "He said get up!"
Alex shook himself, finally registering what was said. He rose, saying nothing as the guard pushed him from behind.
