by Randy Dutton
Now to bring up the face recognition software wirelessly linked into our cloud database. As a mirror copy of several international police agencies suspect databases I let the governments keep it up to date. Nice having hackers create backdoors into secure police servers and routinely update Dark Energy’s files. I’m going to miss those resources.
A passerby’s image came on screen and identified him as a credit card scammer.
Good, the camera’s automatically scanning and locking onto passing face. By getting an extremely low attendee pass-by volume, I can increase the software’s accuracy rate.
Now to scan for bugs.
She unplugged the camera lead and plugged in a USB transceiver, then walked the laptop around the booth’s interior.
The booth’s electronic signal blocking fabric is performing as intended. No signals inside except my laptop and cell phone, and nothing’s bleeding through from other booths.
She turned off the overhead lights and plugged in a pen-sized infrared camera into the USB port.
No IR imagery showing through the fabric, and the microphone’s not picking up sound through it. Okay, Operation Prion ready to start tomorrow, or, with the revised targeting, should I say Prion 2.0.
She packed the laptop back in the bag and stepped out.
The booth babe put the espresso on the counter with packets of sugar. “Here’s the receipt and change.”
“Hold onto it future refreshments.” Nike sipped the café.
“Cool!”
“Everything looks good. I am going to check out the other booth displays now. I will be back tomorrow at 7 AM. Be here by 7:30.” Nike held out a ticket. “I have a ticket here for the Black Hat Reception. Want it?”
“You bet!” the booth babe exclaimed.
“Know what the Black Hat Circuit is?”
“Do I? It’s the second best time of the conference. A whole bunch of party rooms and each room has a theme,” she said excitedly.
“What’s the best?” Nike’s brow raised.
“What happens afterward...if you hook up with a guy with pedigree.” The babe winked.
Certifiably good looking. Nike nodded. “Just make sure you are here tomorrow, 7:30 AM prompt!”
“I’ll be here.” She grinned, then hurried off.
Nike mimicked the grin. That girl is going prowling for after-party action. I can’t really blame her. The ratio of men to women who understand computer security is over 20 to 1. She better make it tomorrow on time. If she knew the true purpose of this booth, I wouldn’t let her go to the parties!
Nike strolled the aisles carrying several hundred high-quality USB flash drives in her bag. Holding one up in her gloved hand as if to inspect it, she pursed her lips.
These flash drives, from last year’s show, are labeled with logos from multiple software companies. They look innocuous enough. Show attendees will pick up anything free because they assume USB flash drives from reputable companies are malware-free. I just need to drop the right drives in the right baskets.
She chuckled at the naivety, even among people who should know better.
These will get snatched up before the day is out. They are perfect cuckoo eggs. Only hackers will use the hacking tools I’ve included. Honest people won’t.
Originally, I had preloaded an anarchist environmental message for hackers to attack carbon-based corporations, the banks, and conservative media companies. A real ‘how-to’ manual with all the necessary software tools, it was intended to motivate attacks to include advance persistent threats and denial of service attacks. Destruction and chaos were the original intent so we could crash the market and accelerate the adoption of carbon credits as the new global currency.
But that was before Pete.
She sighed.
I fear I’ll hurt him...not intentionally, but like so many others I’ve known... Her lips pursed. ...including my father. Regardless of whether I ever see him again, Pete’s changed my life enough that I rewrote the script to redirect hacker attacks to be against the Agenda-21 financiers and the carbon credit exchange.
I hope the hackers believe my message that elitists are stealing their freedoms. Certainly Swanson expects a massive attack against his enemies, and if one isn’t forthcoming, he might get suspicious, too soon. Won’t he be surprised when it hits him instead? Initially, he’ll be distracted by assuming someone else initiated it.
By then, I’ll be gone.
And won’t the hackers be surprised days later with the CIPAV tracking code automatically installs from the cuckoo eggs?! Should muddy the waters for awhile.
Guess when I make amends, I can go a bit overboard. I hope Pete’s father accepts this act of contrition.
She walked the hall before she left, pretending to pick up freebies as she dropped her USB flash drives into vendors’ baskets.
Chapter 55
July 30, 0700 hours
Black Hat Conference
Caesars Palace,
Nike rolled her metal case into the booth. With a Starbucks coffee and chocolate donut to sustain her, she went to work. On the counter she connected a cheap tablet to a rental display to describe Internet security software being offered by the company running the contest. From the case came a stack of boring contest brochures meant to provide cover.
Nike’s brow lifted as the booth babe showed up, on time, wearing the same clothes as the day before, and appearing a little hung-over.
“How was the party?” Nike asked.
“It was ruffus!” The girl’s smile turned to embarrassment. “I mean, really cool! I met this—“
Nike held up a finger. “Too much detail.... Here is a list of winning contest numbers. Match up any ticket with the list and bring them to me. Anyone hits on you, send them away. Got it?”
The girl pressed her lips together and nodded.
Nike went inside the booth to setup her camera and used her laptop to run the same security tests as before. From the case she pulled out several serialized thumbdrives and a quantity of Krugerrands, which she promptly turned on to the standard setting. Overhead LED task lights were aimed at the guest chair from behind Nike’s chair.
As the show opened, traffic to the booth was virtually non-existent except for the occasional guy wanting to hit on the girl.
Within the first hour, a man in his early 20s showed up. Heather verified his ticket and led him to the back. As he entered, Nike motioned for him to sit. The lights were angled down onto his face, but left Nike’s in shadows.
“Let me enter your ticket number,” Nike said, still maintaining a strong Russian accent. His picture, profile, and assignment, popped up on her screen. “Yes, it is a match. Okay, now we start....”
She handed him a thumbdrive. “This USB flash drive has the detailed instructions, the target list, and the deadlines. The Cayman Islands funding account also on it. Memorize it. Half the money can be accessed anytime during this project, the remainder is linked to the periodic updates you will send via the secure web link, and upon project completion. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“As a token of my appreciation, I am giving you this gold Krugerrand.”
His eyes lit up.
“It is yours to keep, but it also gives you one free wish.”
“A wish?” His eyes narrowed.
“Yes. Microscopically etched along the edge is a unique serial number that identifies you and a contact number you can call to have a wish granted, within reason. Do not lose it. If you get into legal trouble, need additional money, or some other difficulty arises, call the number and insert the serial number. A computer voice will ask you the code, the serial number, and a question that only someone holding the coin can answer.”
“How can—”
She interrupted. “I have access to certain…let us say…resources…even within law enforcement we can use to help you. The wish is invalid if you violate my trust, but of course, the coin still is an ounce of gold.”
He flipp
ed the gold coin a couple times in his hand to sense the weight, grinned, then pocketed it. His pleasure was evident.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No.”
The visitors cycled throughout the day. Nike had chosen them months, even years, before for their specific hacking expertise and anarchist leanings. Each had been given a ticket redeemable only at the conference. And each went through the same notification process, and received a Krugerrand. Where hacking operations were split among multiple sites, Nike distributed a Krugerrand for each site.
Had outsiders been paying attention, they might have noticed the people going into the booth arrived almost exactly 30 minutes apart.
Nobody noticed.
Chapter 56
July 30, 1400 hours
Snath Genetics, South San Francisco
The computer screen showed dots flashing in different locations.
Eric rushed to Sven’s office with now was barren of any files or personal touches.
“Sven, our GPS monitors show most shipping containers arriving at their release points. Because of their remote locations it’ll take a few more days for all the containers to reach their initial release points, but we can start now,” Eric said proudly.
“We did it,” he continued with self-congratulations. “We’ve set the stage for the salvation of earth and the trapping of excess carbon dioxide.” He swept his arm toward the computer. “Sven, do you want to do the honors?”
“Yes, actually I do.”
They walked together to the control station.
“Something profound perhaps?” Eric beamed.
Sven looked up in thought. “Something, I think, from President Theodore Roosevelt, founder of the Progressive Party. Teddy said, ‘It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement. And at worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.’”
“Sven, you are that man, the one who achieved greatness. You will be remembered as the savior of the planet, the man who dared plunge CO2 levels below mankind’s entry onto this world and forced the reduction of the human population.”
“That I am, that I am,” Sven said smugly. He reached over and activated the switches, opening the valves of the first 13 containers to reach their release points.
Sven turned toward Eric and put his right hand on his production manager’s shoulder. “As the others come into position, I’ll let you activate those. Figure three days for all the rest?”
“That’s about right.”
“Eric?” Sven added. “Just remember, we have dared greatly!”
Eric beamed as Sven swaggered out.
Once outside in the parking lot, he pulled out his cell phone. “Tanya…Free tonight?.... Great, how about I pick you up at eight?” He chuckled. “Okay, as you wish...seven. I feel like celebrating.”
Chapter 57
July 30, 1500 hours
Caesar’s Palace, Las Vegas Strip, NV
A handsome, very athletic man entered the booth at 3 PM.
“Hello Nike, I’ve missed you since last year’s Black Hat.” The mid-30s man’s voice had a western US intonation. He was grinning.
“Aspen, it’s been awhile hasn’t it?” Her voice was soft and warm, and she cocked her head and her eyes narrowed at his mischievous expression.
“Too long! You’re looking good from what I can see past this interrogation light.”
“You’ve been a big help to me over the last few years. I’d like to get an update on your skill-set, particularly the vehicle and medical device hacking.”
He handed her a flash drive. “If you think my remotely starting a car with an iPad a few years ago was impressive, wait until you see what we can do now! We have techniques that can hack telephone systems, GPS tracking devices, 4G security cameras, urban traffic control systems, SCADA sensors, Home Control and Automation Systems, and some other vehicles. Systems that receive control messages over telephone networks in the form of text messages—SMS or GPRS data—are particularly vulnerable. With this”—he pointed at the drive—“we can trigger firmware updates, which we use to override their installed firmware.”
“You can get into Supervisory Control And Data Acquisition systems at will?”
“Pretty much. SCADA used to be considered impervious to hacks. At worst, even if a hacker broke in, people thought that only one system would be affected. They were so wrong.” He was smirking.
“How so?”
“With our hacking system, we’ve blurred the distinction between data acquisition- oriented controllers and the distributed control systems that manage processes, turning SCADA systems into real-time control. SCADA turns a hacker into a controller of the devices.”
“Stuxnet?” she asked, recalling the computer virus that caused Iran’s nuclear processors to spin out of control in 2010, without ever hinting to their operators that anything was amiss. “Did you have a part in that?”
“No, but I know who in our government did. That was just the tip of the iceberg, and I did help design Duqu, which is more nefarious. But then, you’ve topped Duqu I understand.”
“Some women can keep a secret.”
“I’m not sure why you’re paying me to brief you when you know most of this already.”
“Pretend I don’t, so that you fill in holes that may exist,” she said.
“Your money, your act. Well, with this latest tool, the hackers have total control, even if field communications are lost.”
She nodded her head. “You have total control?”
“Total control,” he reaffirmed.
“Niiccceee!”
“And with SCADA, smart meters, and synchrophasors, you now have the triad – the three most important systems running the electric grid. It’s all on the drive.”
“You’ve earned your fee. Here is a USB flash drive with the Swiss account information. Do not spend it in one place.” Nike paused. “Ready for another assignment?”
“Same rate?”
“Double.”
His brow lifted. “Sounds like a retirement fund.”
“I will throw in a bonus if you meet all the Level-A assignments.” She looked at his confidence. I could give him one of the Krugerrands, but he’s the one guy good enough to detect the periodic signal. Better to chance he just never gets caught.
“Deal…By the way, and I’m hesitant to tell you this...” He looked deeply into her dark brown eyes as he slowly uttered these words, “Some of your comrades suspect your operation.”
“What do they know?” she asked cautiously.
“Only that there are a number of coordinated hacker cells in the US, and at least one in France. And these Russians are actively seeking a female coordinator they believe is threatening their financial enterprise.”
“What makes you think I need to be warned?” She studied his body language. Your grin’s unwavering...what else are you not telling me?
“This network they seek is targeting the fossil fuel industry, manipulating the currency market, creating Black Swan events. Beyond that, I don’t have much more to tell you...except...they’re here at Black Hat.”
His expression tells me he’s holding back.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t say I never gave you anything…Anna.”
With the name, a bomb exploded inside her, pushing adrenalin through her veins. Her eyes widened and she leaned back.
“Don’t worry…Nike,” he added reassuringly. ”I’m discrete…besides...if they catch
you…they’ll certainly vivisect me!”
He stood and walked out.
Blood rushed to her head. She breathed deeply, slowly, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.
I knew my huge enterprise could crack some day. God, the Russians? With westerners, I have a chance. The Russians give no quarter. With them I’m more likely to be kept alive so they can continue the torture. And if Swanson thinks the Russians suspect…I’m no better off. He doesn’t want to go to war with them either and would just as likely eliminate me to protect himself. Was this the group he hinted about?
And what if they find out that in the last two weeks I changed the targets from the carbon industries to the very financiers of Agenda 21? I’d have the richest, most powerful people in the world all gunning for me! Some undoubtedly are Russian mobsters.
This was the last appointment for Day One. She was mentally fried and, now, more paranoid than ever.
Every show attendee is suspect. My world’s spinning out of control. I have to get through tomorrow to get the last of the assignments out.
She packed up her rolling bag and its 12 remaining Krugerrands. The rest were in the room safe.
After tomorrow, I burn this identity!
While rolling the suitcase to the room she nervously scanned faces and her mind raced with thoughts.
I certainly can’t even consider joining the Black Hat social events. I feel as if my skin is crawling...I have to get out of this persona...now!
Her emotions begged her to hide.
I’ve got to analyze this situation find a way to make a clean break from the computer hacking network. Aspen gave me enough clues to scare me, but not enough to take offense. Does he know more? If so, why didn’t he tell me? Hell, why didn’t I ask when I had the chance? How did he know my name? Is there a leak? Someone from Dark Energy? Who could connect the identities…even in my own operation? God, I’m slipping!
