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SILENT AS THE DEAD: A Deadly Cyber Chase Begins

Page 4

by Sanjib Sinha


  9. Sunday, 12:12 AM, Calcutta

  PG got to Jacky's place ten minutes ago.

  It was an overbearing opulent office. Jacky asked him to retrieve a video from an ordinary looking laptop. Although it was a child’s play; PG took some time to have a clear-cut understanding about the whole affair. He had other intentions too.

  PG had a mild burp like an old man. Before coming here, he took fifteen minutes to hide his own identity wearing a white wig, white moustache and added artificially-padded-fat around his body. He looked like a fat irritating old man. He had also decided to belch and burp noisily in a regular interval just to irritate Jacky.

  “Please tell me the exact task. What do you want me to do?” He demanded irritatingly, just like a grumpy old man.

  “Can you retrieve all the deleted data?” Jacky asked and it was evident he didn’t expect a grumpy-old-man-type-of-hacker.

  “I hope so.” PG belched again.

  “Can it be done now? I’ll pay you in cash.”

  “Payment is not a problem Mr. Sen. Let me check it first. If the hard drive is badly damaged then I need to have my tools.” He sounded like a plumber, pouting his lips.

  Jacky Sen whispered something over the intercom and a good looking girl with long shapely legs and curious big eyes entered. She held a laptop in her hands as if she got hold of a valuable antique piece. She placed it on the desk with utmost care.

  Jacky smiled innocently, “Tanuja, can you get some coffee for this gentleman?”

  Gentleman? No way! He belched noisily and enjoyed an immense pleasure watching their helpless faces.

  The girl looked at him in astonishment. In the morning she talked to a different person who had sounded much younger and jovial. She didn’t expect a grumpy old man. Before leaving room she again looked askance at his scruffy clothes and cranky expression. PG winked at her. Her face wore a strange look. She didn’t expect a mischievous wink from an old man.

  Jacky Sen demanded, “Will it take some time?” It was evident that Jacky started disliking him also. PG had wanted that. He had started disliking Jacky for some time since his morning began with his phone call.

  Dislike should be mutual.

  His uncharacteristic burping and belching – in a regular interval – were meant to irritate Jacky more.

  “Around two hours – if everything goes fine. But if I fail I may need to go back home and bring my tools.” He declared and stared at his face with dumb eyes.

  This time he belched noisily like a perfect old man and play-acted like a real plumber.

  Actually he didn’t want anything. He got what he wanted and it was a child’s play for him. He wanted to keep him under pressure from the very beginning.

  Now Jacky sounded polite, “Okay, you take your time. Do you need anything else?”

  “I want a good internet connection. Can I get the connection from your Desktop PC?”

  “Oh, sure; you can do it. But Mr. PG, you have a very strange name…” Jacky Sen smiled peevishly and his voice suddenly changed.

  “Yes.”

  “Please remember one thing.” He stopped and took few moments to speak out.

  Jacky continued in low voice, “This matter is strictly private. Whatever data you retrieve you must not open and see. Only retrieve and deliver it to me. Okay?”

  “We don’t open client’s data. No ethical hacker should do that Mr. Sen.” He scowled like a perfect old man who was supposed to be irritated at every question.

  “Thank you.”

  He lied. He thought: ‘We see everything. We take everything. Guarding my ass is my first priority. It’s my right. Your dark secrets will come to my possession after some time. Otherwise how could I save myself later if something went wrong’?

  Once PG booted the laptop he had a strange ghostly sensation.

  10. Sunday, 12:14 AM, Mumbai

  Sarika was confused.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes. But it was true - Sarab had apologized profusely. Few moments ago he sent a message and wrote that he was sorry for what he had done. He really didn’t mean it. What he had done was a practical joke! A joke? Indeed! She could have ended her life for that particular big item! Whenever she thought about it she started feeling uneasy.

  But it was now true that he was really sorry for what he had done. And she had an outlandish concocted emotional feeling. She was thinking about those moments they had enjoyed together. It was dancing before her mind’s eyes.

  He was not her first boyfriend. She lost her virginity much earlier. But she had loved him for one and only reason – his dreamy-and-dreadfully-dangling-dick. She had never seen such thing and she decided to give everything once she saw that. Instantly he became her prince charming. She was simply devastated because she had lost it.

  Now that man – Sarab Mehta had again sent her a message today and she was overjoyed. Tears filled her eyes for some reasons she couldn't divulge in public.

  Sarab wrote: ‘Dear Sari, I was just checking how much you loved me! It was a pure prank. How did you think that I’d share our pride possessions – those beautiful personal moments? They would stay with us for the rest of lives.’

  Sarab continued, ‘No darling, it was not my true self. I was joking and tried to see what you’d do. You have passed the exam. I was really happy to watch your courage. Darling, I’m just mad for you. You have enough time to withdraw your police complains but before that let’s meet somewhere today. I just want to kiss you baby. I love you so much.’

  When Sarab had tried to blackmail her – Sarika didn’t really believe it at first. She had cried her heart out alone thinking about only one thing – the monster dick. Nobody in this world understood that. She tried to convince her father that something was wrong. She couldn’t tell anyone at that time what had been going inside her since she got the ransom mail. She was devastated about losing that big gun but had a gleam of hope that everything would be settled one day. She would again ride on that black monument.

  Now it was true. Although this message was unbelievable; Sarika was convinced that Sarab had tried to tease her. Now he wanted to meet her. Her heart was pounding vigorously making her mind restless.

  She tried to be smart and tease him like before. So she wrote: Darling, police is searching for you. They’ll catch you once you enter Mumbai. Where will we meet secretly?

  She sent this message with lot of emotional cartoon figures and behind those smiling cartoons her true passion was dancing like fire.

  After killing Diana, Sammy came back to his hotel room. He started sending messages to Sarika from his laptop; he took every precaution to stay anonymous and hid his all web footprints. He just wanted to try his luck. He didn’t expect this girl could be so callous and sang to his tunes. He social engineered his identity and changed it from Rajat Kapoor to Sarab Mehta now.

  He wrote to Sarika: ‘Okay baby, let’s meet at some secret place. Can you come to the resort called ‘Forbidden’? It was one hour drive. Better you wait on the Andheri spot at twelve thirty sharp. Remember the spot where we usually meet. I’ll pick you up.’

  Sammy knew this mission was difficult because he had killed Diana few hours back. There was no Diana any more so that she'd do his prosthetic make up. Moreover he couldn’t disguise with a spot make-up now. He’d go there as Sarab Mehta’s chauffeur and pick her up first. The Mumbai-Pune highway had many secluded places.

  He had no time left. He had to pick that girl up and take her to any secluded place on the highway and kill her. Everything had been scheduled before because he’d to go back to Chennai in the afternoon flight. The Calcutta-job had remained undone. Now he should concentrate on it. He had some scores to settle with that bloody Jacky Sen. Sammy knew what was going on there. Jacky had hired an old hacker.

  The message came instantly. Sarika wrote: ‘I will right be there darling. Can’t wait to meet you!’

  Sammy thought, ‘Girls are crazy.’ He muttered, “They bring life and take death! Sorry girl you ne
ed to die. Nothing doing. You should have given the money and could have stayed alive.”

  Sarika was made the way men liked the girls to be made – voluptuous hips and long legs accentuated by tiny waist. But it was not her body that had really attracted Sammy; it was her money that had been the real attraction since he targeted her.

  Sammy was working on his laptop simultaneously. It was connected to his Yelagiri warehouse system and monitoring every incoming and outgoing calls to Sarika. This mission was dangerous. He had to take care.

  At the same time, a sub-inspector was checking Diana’s hand-bag in the forest. Police had arrived at the forest resort half an hour ago. The front gate security told police, the lady had been a regular guest for last few years. She parked her car and was enjoying a leisurely stroll inside the forest. They had not suspected anything; they hadn’t seen anybody either.

  The sub-inspector suddenly ran to his superior, “Sir, please have a look at this.”

  The Assistant Commissioner of detective department and cyber cell Udit Kashyap took the visiting card. It was a visiting card of his boss – the police commissioner of Mumbai and an appointment was scribbled over it.

  The dead lady was supposed to meet the commissioner at afternoon regarding the social engineering case that had been haunting them for past few days.

  The police Commissioner was doing lunch at his residence when his personal mobile rang. It was The Assistant Commissioner of detective department. He felt it was urgent.

  The Commissioner responded, “Yes Udit.”

  “Sir, we got a situation.”

  “What?”

  “A lady – Diana Lamer, was supposed to meet you in the afternoon regarding that industrialist’s daughter – Sarika. We have just found Mrs. Diana’s body. Someone must have killed her.”

  The Commissioner took few seconds to digest his food and understand the gravity of the situation; he said right away, “She was the only witness. She did the prosthetic make up of the accused. Have you contacted the girl – I mean Sarika? Give her extra security immediately. Her life is in danger.”

  “Yes sir.” The Assistant Commissioner of detective department was shouting at the sub-inspector, “Call the girl – Sarika at once. Her life is in danger. Tell her to stay home. We’ll send security. Give me the line I’ll talk to her.”

  11. Sunday, 12:14 AM, Mumbai

  A message dropped into the in-box.

  The mobile vibrated while Sarika was waiting near the Andheri subway station. Was it Sarab? Sarika felt tizzy to check the message. When she was about to fish out the smart-phone from her skin-tight jeans a car pulled up near her.

  It was Andheri east. A long stretch of Mathuradas Vasanji Road lay before him. Sarab, in his last message, told her to wait here.

  She left her car and told the driver to pick her up again after three hours. Sarab would take her and drop her again here. It was an old custom. She felt restless. She didn’t want to think about the last body contact. It was so disturbing. She tried to push the thought away and it sprang back into her mind again making her twitchy.

  A black BMW silently pulled in near her and the driver didn't cut the engine. The window glass was also tinted black and gave an ominous look to the car. Was it Sarab?

  Sarika moved forward; she had strange trepidation mixed with high expectation.

  The car window pull-down-shades opened up and a man with an unforgettable face having a deep cut mark on his chin smiled, “Madam, I’m the chauffeur. Sir has sent the car to pick you up.”

  Sarika was about to ask, “Where is your Sir?” but before that her mobile vibrated in her jeans pocket. Someone was calling her.

  The Assistant Commissioner of detective department Udit Kashyap was on the line. Sarika said, “Yes, Mr. Kashyap.”

  He boomed in a loud voice as he seemed agitated, “Madam, where are you?”

  Sarika was surprised, “Why Mr. Kashyap? I’m in Andheri. I’m gong to meet one of my friends.”

  “Oh madam, you have to stay at home. Don’t move around. Your life is at risk.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, Madam. Your friend Diana Lamer has been brutally killed this morning. The killer now may target you and he may take any chance. You are in Andheri, right? Please stay there. Don’t move. Can you give me the exact location? Do you see any police sergeant over there? Please go to him and give this phone – I’ll give him necessary instructions. We’ll arrange things thereafter. Please don’t go elsewhere. I repeat: stay there.”

  Sarika looked at the ugly face with a cut mark on the chin and gave a shriek.

  At once the car raced down the street, zigzagged in the traffic and disappeared.

  Udit heard the sound and was worried, “What happened madam?”

  Sarika somehow explained what had just happened. Udit was also uptight and asked, “Have you seen the number plate?”

  The answer was obviously – no! Sarika was not in a mood to watch and note the number. If she could, she would have been the lady Sherlock Homes. She was trembling in fear and handed over her smart phone to the traffic sergeant and Udit gave him necessary instructions to take Sarika to the nearest Andheri police station.

  At the same time alert was issued to every traffic post for a black BMW. It raced past through Mathuradas Vasanji Road and moved towards New Nagardas Road.

  It just vanished into blue!

  12. Sunday, 12:44 AM, Calcutta

  It was raining outside.

  PG booted the laptop and put his little sixty four GB penetration driver on the USB port.

  He murmured as if he was talking to the device driver: ‘Remember, your work schedule. Put the Operating System into client’s machine and adopt it as your child. From now on whenever it is booted and connected to the internet it will start signalling your brother at home so that I can take control of this machine.’

  While doing this, he had a strange feeling. Someone had adopted it already! A very strange sensation. A ghostly sagacity, a true hacker always encountered because he'd found that somebody had already hacked the machine.

  The strange sensation alerted him. He knew that once this machine was connected to the internet, someone from a distance would get the signal and start monitoring every process. The ghost could read every key-stroke.

  He decided to check it first.

  It took around fifteen minutes. He found a strange program in the system software. It started behaving abnormally once he tried to quarantine it.

  He copied the source code. He’d check it later. Someone must have hacked this computer already. The cracker also put a rogue program in the system software. This program had been designed to monitor every move; so that it’d record every key stroke.

  Who was the owner of this laptop?

  He was not supposed to ask this question. But he was curious. Every computer had two types of software – user software and system software. When someone entered into the system software zone and put some program into it, it became a serious issue. One had to be the super user to do this. And somebody had already done that from a distance.

  Who became the super user and how he did that? Was there any intruder from outside or there was any insider?

  He was thinking fast. He had to block this program presently. But blocking this program would alert the cracker who had already entered into it earlier and planned to hatch his egg.

  “I can’t block it. In future I cannot trace the route.” He thought. He wrote a small shell script and placed it inside the program folder. It’d monitor the whole system activities and send him report. Besides he wrote another quick program that’d keep the rogue program busy so that it could not perform its scheduled job properly.

  In a simple analogy: he befriended the rogue program and gave it a different task to do. Otherwise that program would have known his activities.

  Now he could safely connect this machine to his own system.

  He got it connected to the internet and it instantly sent a signal
to his system at home. The return signal came back.

  It was working like a charm. Now this computer came under his system-surveillance as long as he wanted to keep it.

  It started retrieving everything and sending data simultaneously to his system at home. Not much data as he believed. Few pictures and one video were there. It did not take more than twenty minutes. After half an hour everything was over. Now he felt tired because the excitement of doing-something-new had made his mind engaged. Now it was no longer there.

  He was eager to go back home and watch the video. Probably this video had made Jacky spend sleepless night – he guessed.

  He got curious at the same time. He wanted to know the secret of this super rich man. They usually had lot of untold stories. He forgot to belch for some time. He did it happily and noisily enough that could irritate any sensible person.

  After two successive belching he said, “Mr. Sen, it is done. Only three pictures and one video were deleted from this laptop. They are retrieved now and restored to their old place. Do you want them in your mobile also?”

  In the hacker’s community it is called ‘Booby Trap’.

  The man fell right into this trap. He nodded and handed him over his costly smart phone. He set its WI-FI on and with the help of a small text code created a separate channel. This code would send feedback to his system at home. From now on he could record Jacky’s every conversation. This technology was widely popular with the secret agents and spies. PG had made that program more agile and functional with more power.

  Even if he wanted he could take pictures using this mobile. It became his ‘sweet child’ – as it was known in the black hat hacker community. He had many adopted children around the globe. He had to spend a lot of money to hire several dedicated cloud servers using virtual private networking outside the country to maintain them anonymously.

  It is also called ‘EXPLOIT’. Now spies from technologically advanced countries gain access to a mobile handset sending it an encrypted text message and it passes unnoticed by the handset’s owner.

 

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