by D. B. Goodin
“I hear explosions coming from the plant. What the hell is going on?” Nigel asked.
Dahlia tried pressing the green “RESTART” button to get the reactor back online, but it wouldn’t respond.
“Freeman, are you there?” she asked.
“I’m here, D,” he answered.
“I cannot control the reactor.”
“I know!”
“Can you override it and bring it back online?”
“I can, but the cyborgs have not finished their mission.”
“They have the material, I saw them take it,” Dahlia said.
“That is only part of the mission. The rest of the plan involves melting down the Ohio Valley Nuclear Reactor.”
“What? I’m putting a stop to this,” Nigel said.
“A meltdown will kill thousands of people,” Dahlia said, turning to Dr. Ash.
“Hundreds of thousands, once you calculate the prevailing winds,” Dr. Ash interjected.
“It doesn’t make sense to attract so much attention, not with the big attacks that Chen has planned,” Dahlia said.
“I tried to take manual control, but a skinless cyborg just destroyed my laptop,” Nigel said.
“The order to cause a nuclear accident came directly from Mr. Chen. I want my big payday, so that’s what we are doing,” Freeman said.
“I didn’t think the infamous Black Heart would mind killing a few people,” Dr. Ash said.
“No, I will not let this happen. I’m going in. I have my tablet, I just need to get close enough to the reactor’s network to stop the meltdown,” Nigel said.
“I wouldn’t advise that, Nigel. Radiation levels at the reactor are already at 4000 mSv, most die within months of exposure,” Dr. Ash said.
“There’s no need to kill innocents.”
“The revolution has begun. The cyber hunters have set us free,” Dr. Ash said.
Several members of the Cabal applauded.
“Well done, team,” Mr. Tage said.
Dahlia shot up and appeared to be scanning the room.
“Where’s Chen?” she asked.
Nigel watched as several emergency vehicles were dispatched to the Ohio Valley Nuclear Reactor. Although his position in the field was almost a mile away, he wondered when the radiation would come. The cyborgs were returning from their missions. Most of the skin had melted off of their metal frames; it was an eerie sight to behold, with the burning reactor in the background. One of the mechanical monstrosities charged, then stopped short of Nigel. It reached out and placed a metal cylinder in Nigel’s hand. To Nigel’s surprise, the metal was cool to the touch.
“Decontamination necessary—don’t want to damage humans,” the cyborg with half a face said.
The remaining cyborgs began to search the immediate area.
What are they looking for?
Just as Nigel finished the thought, the cyborgs began clawing at the soft ground. It looked like they were trying to tunnel their way out.
“Found the decontamination supplies,” another cyborg said as it unearthed something. “Step back, human,”
Nigel watched in fascination as a cyborg hoisted heavy-looking canisters out of the ground and hosed off its cyborg comrades.
About five minutes later, an enormous van, large enough to seat ten, stopped less than fifty feet away. Its side door opened.
“We need to leave,” Blanka said.
The cyborgs made an attempt at burying the decontamination equipment but gave up on the effort.
“Come with me, human,” a cyborg said.
Nigel followed and climbed in the van. He sat in the front with Blanka. Vedrana and Eva sat just behind.
Soon the van was heading east toward Newport.
“I detect you are driving too fast, human. I suggest you slow down so we do not attract any unwanted attention,” a cyborg told Blanka.
“You’d better listen to our robot overlords,” Nigel told her.
“It will take about ten hours to drive to the Bromwick, so get some sleep,” Blanka said. “I’m good to drive for a few hours.”
A sudden wave of exhaustion hit Nigel. He hoped he would dream of Jet as he slept.
Chapter 26
Freeman was recompiling the code for Kracken 2.0, the latest version of the malware delivery system. He had tested the code no less than five times.
Are you ready to change the world, Freeman? he asked himself. Time to show Nigel who the boss is.
His red phone chirped. He checked the text message from Dahlia. It read:
Your attendance is required in the main conference room immediately.
After countless hours, the moment of truth had come. It was time to execute the malware. Moments after Freeman received the “compile complete” message, he packed his things and made his way to the conference room. When he got there, he opened the door and acknowledged every principal member of the Cabal and their respective lieutenants. There were a few missing, but Freeman didn’t care. His mood changed when he realized Nigel Watson was absent. Of all the people in the Bromwick, he hated Nigel most of all.
“Freeman, glad you could join us. Are you ready to launch the delivery system for the malware?” Mr. Chen said.
“I am, I just need access to the latest version of the malware,” Freeman replied.
Dahlia produced a red metal flash drive. “Nigel fixed the detection problem,” she said. “Please deploy this version.”
Freeman grimaced at the sound of Nigel’s name. He inventoried the contents of the flash drive, then packed the malware: a process that made it nearly impossible to figure out the true intent of the malicious package. Once he verified the code, he launched his delivery system for the identity-exposing malware.
“It’s done. The malware that I call the Kraken has been unleashed,” Freeman said.
“The breach of the windowless tower has already caused quite the stir among the law enforcement community. They have dispatched their best cyber defenders to mitigate against the attack,” Kurtzen said.
“If that’s the case, then won’t it be more difficult to expose everyone?” Dahlia asked.
“No, Madam, we got the information we were after,” Seymour said.
“What’s happening to the map? The colors seem to be changing,” Mr. Chen said.
“Those red and orange dots all seem to be concentrated on the United States. So far I don’t see a worldwide impact,” Dahlia said.
“What’s that orange dot? It looks like it is near us, and it is getting larger,” the Sultan said.
“It’s one of the malware distribution hubs. It’s where the malware calls home for instruction,” Freeman said.
“I hope it cannot be traced back here,” Mr. Chen said.
Freeman pulled up a window with a black background and green text and began typing.
“That’s not right—those packets are being routed back. There’s something wrong with the routing table,” Freeman muttered.
“What does that mean?” Mr. Tage said.
“No!” Freeman said.
“What’s the matter?” Dahlia asked.
“The malware is using the source IP as the beaconing target, not the hub IP,” Freeman said.
“Freeman’s routing problem is not the only thing broken. Anyone else have phone service?” Kurtzen said.
The room filled with discontented murmurs as each member of the Cabal checked their cell phones.
“It appears our young hacker friend has broken the internet,” the Sultan said.
“I think we need to bring in someone with actual hacking skill. This amateur is not making the cut,” Gratzano interjected.
“I think you should get Nigel Watson to untangle this mess,” Mr. Tage said.
“I’m afraid Mr. Watson hasn’t reported back in yet,” Chen said.
“I will find him,” Dahlia said as she picked up her phone.
I can’t believe this is happening, I must have missed something, but what? What am I going to do
now? Freeman thought.
Freeman watched while the traffic was getting rerouted to the Bromwick.
“Look, the orange dot is getting larger, and it appears to be growing over the Bromwick. You better fix your mess, kid, otherwise it’s going to get ugly,” Gratzano said as he leaned into Freeman’s personal space.
Nigel was holding on to the door handle of the van for dear life, as the rain wasn’t the only hazard on the road; no sooner had they left the interstate than all the traffic signals began malfunctioning. Blanka narrowly avoided several vehicles that appeared to not bother to stop at any of the red lights. Nigel witnessed a multitude of accidents.
“I’ve been trying to call the Bromwick since we left the interstate, and no one is picking up,” Nigel said.
“I suggest you slow your vehicle to a safe speed to avoid getting into an accident,” a skinless cyborg told Blanka.
Blanka slowed the van, but it was no use; cars appeared to be coming from every intersection. Some stopped and allowed others to go, but most of the drivers simply accelerated through the intersections with red lights.
“How far away are we from the Bromwick?” Blanka asked.
“My phone has lost signal, but I think we are about a half mile from the hotel,” Nigel said.
“It’s too dangerous to drive any further—we need to go on foot,” Blanka said.
“With the cyborgs?” Nigel said, surprised.
“We have to risk it. We need to get back to the Bromwick before Freeman launches the attack,” Blanka said.
“I think that has already happened.”
Blanka stopped the van in the middle of an intersection. All remaining intersections were blocked with accidents or traffic. Nigel grabbed his laptop bag and the metal cylinder the cyborg had given him earlier. The outside casing was cool to the touch.
I expected it to be red hot—what’s going on? Nigel wondered.
He got out of the van started jogging through the streets of downtown Newport with his motley crew of cyborgs and teenage assassins.
What a sight we must be—but I’m sure it looks badass.
Nigel ran like the wind as rain continued to come down in rivulets; he had to slow his pace to avoid slamming into people. The passersby saw the skinless cyborgs and jumped aside, giving them plenty of room.
“Great costume, dude,” some guy said as they passed by a group of young hipsters.
“There,” Blanka said, pointing to the hotel.
“Let’s cut through the park,” Vedrana said.
“I don’t think that park looks safe.”
The park was at least a couple of city blocks wide and was the only obstacle left in their path. Nigel picked up the pace and started running toward the Bromwick as fast as his legs would take him. He looked back for a brief moment; Dahlia’s young assassins and the cyborgs were just behind him. Then the world went black. Nigel couldn’t remember what happened next. It was a blur, but something hit him. His vision blurred, but he was able to see a shape of someone trying to hit him with something heavy.
Am I being attacked? Nigel thought as his vision faded into unconsciousness.
Sometime later, Nigel awoke as splotches of rain soaked his body.
“What happened?” Nigel said, trying to get up.
The pain of getting hit with the baseball bat and landing on his bad arm incapacitated him. But after a brief rest, the pain subsided.
“You got hit with a baseball bat,” Blanka said, helping him up. “The man apologized, then ran away. He looked like a homeless person. Are you okay?”
“We will protect you from all future attacks, sir,” the skinless cyborg said.
“I’m okay, let’s just get to the Bromwick,” Nigel said.
The team shuffled toward the hotel at a slower pace. Nigel couldn’t believe the chaos he was witnessing around him. People were smashing windows and looting local stores. Some looters wore face masks to avoid detection, but others didn’t bother. Flames engulfed buildings, and vehicles were scattered about like discarded toys. Traffic lights were flashing, and roving groups of people pulled others out of cars and started beating them. Billows of smoke rose from every direction. The Bromwick was the only building that remained unharmed; the massive gathering of armed guards at the front entrance discouraged violence.
This is nuts! What has Freeman done?
Nigel entered the crowded conference room with his group of unlikely companions. Gratzano seemed to be grilling Freeman about something, and the kid looked like he was headed for a nervous breakdown. Everyone—including the giant Ezekiel—gave Nigel and his companions a wide birth.
“There he is, the man of the hour,” Mr. Tage said.
“Do you have the material?” Dr. Ash said.
Nigel opened his bag and produced a medium-sized metal cylinder. Solomon grabbed it out of his hands.
“Is this what you need to get started?” Mr. Chen said.
“Yes,” Nigel replied. “I’ll start my work as soon as I get back to the lab.”
Freeman’s mouth was wide open, and he glared at Nigel. He looked both frightened and surprised at the same time.
“Show me how everything is constructed. I need to know everything if I’m going to help you,” Nigel said to Freeman.
“About a week ago, a series of phishing emails went out to the victims that would act as my zombies. The malware was successfully installed on those computers, and I confirmed I had control over them. Everything looked perfect until we launched the Kraken code,” Freeman explained.
Nigel grabbed Freeman’s computer as he was typing.
“It will be faster if I just look at what you’ve done here,” Nigel said.
Freeman attempted the take his computer back, but Dahlia grabbed Freeman’s hand.
“Let him work,” Dahlia said.
Nigel compared the code on Freeman’s computer against similar code he had written himself. About fifteen minutes later, Nigel looked up at one of the screens.
“The traffic is getting rerouted away from our location and back to the intended eastbound hub. There was an error in the code you acquired from ProgHub. It created an internet black hole.”
“Our cell phones don’t work,” the Sultan said.
“What Freeman did overwrote some internet service providers’ routes to the internet, which caused all local traffic to be routed to an invalid location. This caused a denial-of-service attacks on all local networks,” Nigel explained.
“Have we been compromised?” Mr. Chen asked.
“It’s too early to tell, but my gut tells me someone has been tracking you. I need to dig into the logs a bit more to know for sure.”
“Good job, Nigel,” Dahlia said.
“You just hold up your end of the bargain,” he replied. “I want to see Jet tonight!”
“It will be done. Blanka and Vedrana will accompany you,” Dahlia said.
“We should have hired Nigel from the beginning—Freeman almost cost us everything. See, Chen? I told you Nigel is the best hacker I’ve seen,” Mr. Tage said.
Freeman flushed with anger.
“Is your girlfriend JetaGirl, by chance?” Freeman taunted.
Nigel just stared at Freeman.
“Your friend Dahlia put a contract on her. But I think the true culprit is Tony Gratzano,” Freeman said.
“Is this true?” Nigel said to Dahlia.
“You better watch yourself, kid,” Gratzano said. “If I want someone dead, they don’t stay alive for long. And besides,” he turned to the rest of the room, “why would I want Nigel’s girlfriend dead?”
“Maybe it’s because she killed your father? I think she was escaping captivity from him,” Freeman spat as he pointed to the Sultan.
“How do you know this?” Nigel asked.
“I’m not the only one who does his homework,” Freeman said.
Moments later, Gratzano grabbed Freeman by the throat then shoved a gun in his mouth, pulling back the hammer. “Choke on this,
you insolent little roach.”
“Stop this!” Mr. Chen demanded.
The room went silent. Moments later, Gratzano withdrew his weapon then pistol-whipped Freeman, who screamed and cowered from Nico’s assault.
“The board has changed,” Vedrana said.
“They have restored cell phone service,” Kurtzen said.
The bot net traffic was normalizing, and the network beaconing traffic was no longer being routed through the black hole.
“Is that it?” Mr. Tage asked, trying to change the subject.
“No,” Nigel said, “there are plenty of other things we need to check before we can call it. But before I help, I want your word that Jet will be safe. She’s already been stabbed by that crazy cyborg.”
Later that evening
Nigel verified the remaining code for the Cabal’s botnet. With a heavy heart, he looked at Freeman’s world map he had used to track the progress of the bot. After some fixes and adjustments, the code was more efficient than ever. A wave of anxiety overcame Nigel as hundreds of thousands of bots rampaged over the internet. He monitored network traffic websites for signs of compromise. With Nigel’s code adjustments, more than one hundred and ten thousand confirmed infections were reported in a few short hours.
Mr. Tage and Chen looked like kids on Christmas day, with their eyes lighting up as news headlines came in from across the world; “Three hundred dead after the Ohio Valley Nuclear Reactor burns,” “Millions exposed in massive data breach,” and “Hundreds of critical surgeries interrupted as massive cyberattack crippled hospital systems” were just a few examples. Each headline was accompanied by a slew of horrific images. It seemed like the media was going out of its way to show the most gruesome and desperate-looking photos imaginable.
Every time a sensational headline appeared, cheers reverberated throughout the room. Nigel tried not to think about the mayhem he had at least partially caused. Tears filled his eyes when he dwelled on it.
