Wreckoning

by Lee Harding

  The chance to break into the States finally arrived. He scouted for the perfect location and signed a five year lease. The building had become available after another budding Internet start-up had fallen by the wayside. He ensured there was significant space to develop in the future. He registered the name Hydra Security. The mythical sea creature could never be brought down no matter how many of its heads were carved off. It was also the name he gave the virus he developed in university. In reality it was mostly Cameron’s design. He took those ground-breaking techniques and used them to build an empire.

  Hydra Security eclipsed the IT security landscape. They became a by-word for safety and strength against the Wild West anarchy of the Internet. Hacking and cyber threats had increased exponentially and threatened to cripple the global network. Hydra Security provided the only immovable anchor in an ocean awash with thundering chaos.

  It took six years before he floated his company on the stock exchange. More and more countries put their faith in Hydra including governmental departments. His new initiative of developing solutions for the general public brought in a brand new revenue stream. They were growing from strength to strength and the programme was nearing completion. There was just one more line to code.

  “Thank you for seeing us at such a late hour.”

  McBride lifted his hands off the glass leaving behind two ghostly smudges. He faced the detective from Scotland Yard and the petite daughter of his deceased and disgraced ex-business partner.

  As no reply was forthcoming, Michael continued.

  “I thought it prudent to speak with you outside the scope of the FBI. I admit yesterday’s interview was based on loose evidence but what we discussed on the phone adds a lot more weight to our accusations.”

  McBride remained motionless. He stood with his arms behind him like a soldier in a parade. His thin spectacles were pushed firmly against the bridge of his nose but were unable to hide the sagging skin below his eyes. In contrast he was quite alert, taking in everything the Inspector said.

  Michael waited for McBride to answer or even blink. It wasn’t until Alana nudged his elbow that he reached for his computer.

  “I have evidence of a mass cover-up to the tune of $1 billion that disappeared from your company’s books twenty months ago. We would like an explanation otherwise I will inform the FBI and your shareholders and let them investigate it.”

  “Where did you learn of the missing money?”

  McBride’s voice was cool and crisp, his San Francisco accent still tinged with his life back in Britain.

  Alana swallowed involuntarily. They hadn’t accessed the files in Goldstein’s office entirely legally. After speaking with Danny to confirm he was willing to help, she had made Michael wait on the edge of his hotel room bed.

  “I’m going to propose something,” Alana started,” but before I do I think you need to be reminded about what’s at stake. In forty-eight hours our lives will be over. If McBride is true to his word he’ll bring the UK to its knees. Everything will be destroyed; everything we love, and our friends and families too. To survive we need to stop him, right now.”

  Michael listened. He knew what she was saying was true but was uneasy as to her conclusion.

  “What are you planning?”

  “Fight fire with fire. We need to hack into Lee and Goldstein Accountants and try and find something that we can use to stop McBride.” Alana waited for a rebuttal but instead Michael nodded.

  “I agree. Forget international diplomacy, we need to do this by any means necessary. Before we left the Prime Minister called me aside and in no uncertain terms ordered me to bring McBride down. What do I need to do?”

  Alana gave a full outline of her plan. Michael contacted Stevie Jackson and told him to forward Alicia X9 to his email.

  “But sir, if it were to get out CTU was letting loose a virus, especially such a powerful one–”

  “I take your comments on board. Did you change the parameters to send all keystrokes to my laptop?”

  “Yes but I’ve no idea whether the network you’re going to install it on will sniff it out. If you could only give me more details like what the business is called–”

  “Stevie, the less you know the better. I’ll call you later.”

  Michael relayed everything to Alana. She was researching the building plans of the Lee and Goldstein office courtesy of the New York land registry website. Relaxing her muscles she punched in the phone number on the screen.

  “Good afternoon, Lee and Goldstein Accountants.”

  “Yeah, hi,” Alana said with a rather convincing Brooklyn accent. “I have a free slot tomorrow at four to install this boiler otherwise it’ll be Wednesday morning.”

  “I’m sorry, but who is calling?” the operator said.

  “Jean O’Toole from Orion Heating. I was there on Thursday to make sure this thing’ll fit.”

  “I don’t know anything about a boiler. I’ll try to contact someone in Maintenance and they’ll phone you back.”

  “Don’t sweat it. Give me their extension and I’ll contact them in the morning first thing.”

  The operator hesitated before saying, “Sure. It’s 5541.”

  “And no one’s there this afternoon?”

  “Only the cleaners. Tom doesn’t come in on a Sunday and Bill went home early.”

  “Sounds just like Bill. Probably sneaked off to watch the Knicks game, huh?”

  Alana was beaming as she put down the phone. “Phase one complete. Let’s hope the cleaners answer the phone.”

  She rang the same number and when prompted to enter an extension pressed 5541. Michael paced up and down the room. She cupped the mouthpiece and said, “You’re making me dizzy,” which halted him in mid-stride.

  “Hello?”

  Alana quickly withdrew her hand. “To whom am I speaking?” Her accent was now back to being British but a step up from her lower London brogue.

  “This is Ramon.”

  “This is Wendy Jobs from Ratsfeld and Co. Is Tom or Bill there?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Ramon had music playing in the background as he vacuumed.

  “Damn. I told them to wait until I rang before leaving. My boss is going to be so angry.”

  “Maybe I can help,” he said.

  “Are you part of the Maintenance team?”

  “No, I’m just a cleaner.”

  “Mmm, I’m not sure if you can help me but Bill and I met for drinks a few days back. I was telling him my boss put me in charge of purchasing a new Internet router. I know a little bit about computers but haven’t a clue about any of that stuff. Anyway, I asked my boss to get the IT guys to do it but he thinks they’re upping the budget so they can skim some off the top so he’s left it to me to check their quotes.”

  Ramon tried to interrupt but Alana kept talking.

  “I bumped into Bill and we started talking. It turns out your office has a fantastic computer network and he was going to write down the make and model number for me.”

  “Uh, Miss Jobs, I wouldn’t really know where to begin,” Ramon said, finally finding a gap to speak.

  “I understand. Did he leave a bit of paper on his desk?”

  A fumble of the phone and the sound of pens and something falling then:

  “Fraid not.”

  Alana paused then said, “Don’t worry. Thanks anyway.”

  “No problem. I wish I could help more.”

  “Ramon, I normally wouldn’t ask a complete stranger to do this but is there any chance you could maybe go to the server room and check it for me?”

  “That room’s locked.”

  Alana tried to think of a quick adjustment.

  “I only need to know a few names and numbers from the side panel of those machines. I wouldn’t dream of asking you put your hands on anything. And if I can write that report for my boss tonight he assures me there’s a $5000 bonus in it. I’d be willing to share a fifth with the person who helped me.”
>
  The line was cast with the bait of a thousand dollars on the hook. Ramon would have to work one hundred hours cleaning toilets and wiping desks to earn that. Eventually he spoke.

  “I can maybe get the key but what exactly do you need?”

  From the blueprints of the building, Alana knew that the server room lay directly above the Maintenance department on the next floor. She made sure to get Ramon to give her the IT extension phone number before he left so she could call him there in twenty minutes. It was the longest she had to wait since taking off from Heathrow. The phone was picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Wendy, this is Ramon. I think I have everything.”

  Alana jotted down the details including a few useful snippets that someone had generously taped to the side of the server rack. The name Will was signed at the bottom.

  “Is Will someone working in IT?” she asked.

  “I think that’s Will Lemon. I’ve seen him a few times up here working late.”

  Alana promised to ring him the next evening to arrange payment of the fictitious money.

  “I’m really not comfortable about lying,” Michael said after she read out the technical details.

  “That’s a pity,” she said, walking over to stand between his legs. “Because you’re up next.”

  “What?”

  “Danny will contact the operator at Lee and Goldstein in thirty minutes. He’s going to report a fault with their website. He’s an eager investor wishing to place an order of $6 million of gold bullion but can’t do so as the site isn’t working.”

  “Why do you need me?”

  “You have to telephone the switchboard pretending to be from Hydra Security. A bug in their software has just been flagged which requires an urgent update. You’ll be transferred to the out-of-office tech support to tell him to expect the file.”

  “Yes but why me?”

  “You’re not too bright for a detective, are you, Cambridge boy?” Alana patted his head. “The operator might recognize my voice so it needs to be you.”

  Michael took her hand off his scalp and rose to tower above her. “And what if they know I’m not from Hydra?”

  “Then you’ll probably be arrested for trying to defraud an American company and thrown into jail. Better not mess up.”

  “Thanks for your support.”

  “No problem,” she said and bounced away.

  Michael waited until it was 15:15 which meant it was 18:15 in New York. As Alana predicted he was transferred to a mobile phone where a man with an Asian twang to his voice answered.

  “Good afternoon, my name is Michael and I’m a technician from Hydra Security.”

  Alana had advised him to keep things as simple as possible so he kept his real first name.

  “Are you phoning about the website? I’ve just had an angry customer on complaining that it isn’t working,” came the reply.

  “A zero day exploit is crippling some servers on our extranet. Before I speak further, for security reasons, can you confirm your identity?” Michael said, his heart pounding.

  “My name is Rodney Wong and my employee ID is R968.”

  “That matches our records, Mr Wong. Your company office is running the Cisco 21-S-44 Router with built-in firewall and the Microsoft Enterprise Server version 16, correct?”

  Michael spoke rapidly not giving the man a chance to make an identification requirement of his own. This information seemed to appease the Goldstein technician.

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “I have a patch here that can be installed remotely. I’ll email it to you if you can install it within the next hour?”

  “I’m just getting a bite to eat but can logon from my computer at home,” Wong said.

  “This is quite urgent.”

  “I take it you’ll be emailing from an authorized address?”

  Michael frowned but Alana gave him the thumbs up.

  “Certainly. I’ll send the attachment to you shortly. Please say hello to Will for me.”

  “Sure, and thanks for the help.” Wong hung up the phone.

  Alana clapped. “See? I told you you could do it. You’re officially a social engineer.”

  Michael knocked back half a bottle of water and rubbed his mouth. “So how are you going to send an email from Hydra Security? He won’t accept a file from a bogus address.”

  Alana saddled the hot seat once again. “My old pal Kirsty will come to our rescue.”

  The final part of Alana’s plan worked like a charm. Hydra’s switchboard controller was delighted Helen phoned to update her on her child’s condition. Thank God it was only a sprain. Kirsty would certainly help out by forwarding an email to a customer called Rodney Wong in New York.

  “And now we wait,” Alana said.

  The hands on the clock refused to move each time they looked at the wall. Michael ordered room service and a delicious Hawaiian pizza arrived with two Dr Peppers. Alana was just finishing the last slice when she heard a chime from the laptop’s speakers. She clicked on her private email and saw a new message from Lee and Goldstein.

  “We’re in,” she said and Michael moved to join her. “The key logging software has sent a record of all data entered in the past hour including user names and passwords. Your friend Wong has full root access and must have rebooted the network after installing the patch. That means we can use his account details to remotely view all of Goldstein’s files.”

  Alana typed as Michael watched. She soon found a collection of folders and began scanning down to see if McBride or Hydra was mentioned. Out of several hundred customer records nothing seemed to be related to the leader of Wreckoning.

  “Maybe he’s using an alias. McBride doesn’t want his involvement with Goldstein to be public knowledge,” Michael suggested.

  “But what name would he use? It’ll take me hours searching these and if somebody checks the network they’ll set off the alarm.”

  She listed the names to analyse them more quickly but nothing sprang out. What did you choose?

  “The best passwords are always random and selected by a computer. I’m sure that’s how McBride selects his Hydra login,” Michael said, “but this is different. It needs to be a business name. Something he’d recall easily but not be traceable.”

  He wouldn’t dare. Alana scrolled until she got to the client’s names beginning with F. One jumped off the screen.

  “Faith,” she said and double-clicked the icon. “He used the surname of my dead father to hide his dirty little secrets.”

  Feeling outraged, she highlighted all the documents and copied them onto the laptop. The Trojan Horse programme would clear up any traces of their activity before self-destructing at midnight.

  They spent the next several hours poring over every spreadsheet and memo. When they uncovered evidence of a missing $1 billion from Hydra Security and a series of bank deposits to offshore accounts, Michael knew it was time to confront McBride in person. But this time it would be far away from the prying eyes of the FBI.

  “We want the truth, John. I believe you stole that money so you could form Wreckoning. You wanted vengeance on those who destroyed your life and provide the perfect infection on the world that only your software could cure. The next version of your security suite is released next week, isn’t it?”

  McBride ignored Michael and instead turned his piercing stare to Alana in the next chair.

  “This was all his fault,” he said. “That man ruined my life. Everything that has happened is because of your father.”

  Alana’s fury ignited. “And that gives you the right to attack a nation? He wrecked my family too. I didn’t even meet him until I was eight and even then Cameron was never there.”

  “I lost everything. It took me twenty years to rebuild.”

  McBride returned to the window and with a frown that bordered grief more than anger, watched the palm trees as they swayed in the wind. Alana stood to speak.

  “And you think it was easy for my m
other? She had no one to help her and had two young mouths to feed. Here you are, king of your castle with more money than many third-world countries, and you’re complaining about what you’ve lost? What about the children of Britain come Tuesday? Will you deprive them of having a life because yours got taken away?”

  McBride dropped his chin. His glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose and he reached to push them back up.

  “When I had to live with my father I made a promise. One day I would have my revenge and I would be in control.”

  “So you admit you’re responsible?” Michael said.

  “By creating Hydra I planned to flick a switch and turn off the lights of my adversaries. They deserved no justice just as I was shown none. I’m glad the British people have been given no mercy.”

  Alana grew quite pale. She spoke in a near whisper. “You didn’t do it, though. Your plan never got carried out.”

  Michael sat stunned. “But–”

  “You’re an astute young lady, Alana,” McBride said as he walked to sit down. “Unfortunately Wreckoning came along and lived up to their name. I was pipped to the post, as they say.” He looked at the detective. “The $1 billion was stolen from Hydra Security twenty months ago. A then unknown group of hackers broke in through our safeguards like they weren’t even there. They took the money before we knew our firewalls had been breached.”

  “So why go to Mel Goldstein?” Michael asked not believing what he was hearing.

  “To cover up the theft, of course. Can you imagine how the news would be taken that Hydra Security had its own security tools breached? Our credibility would be gone to rot, our share value would plummet, and my business would become worthless overnight.

  “Goldstein promised complete confidentiality. He told me he could cook the books to hide the discrepancy. But I always knew it would come back to haunt me. Yes, I wish I was the leader of Wreckoning because I’d be $1 billion richer with the ability to crack any computer system in the world.

  “Inspector Grant, I hope you catch those bastards and I’ll give you a fifty percent reward for any of my money you’re able to recover.”