Wreckoning

by Lee Harding

  “I know what I did wrecked lives and I’m sorry. I wish I could make it up to them but I can’t. I wasn’t even allowed to apologize. My life and my family’s lives were ripped apart and thrown on the rubbish heap.”

  “It’s all about you, isn’t it? My life, my pain, my loss. You may recognize other people’s suffering but the truth is you care only about yourself.”

  “How can you say that? I care for you and your sister.”

  “If you cared for us you never would have faked your death and left us behind. You wouldn’t have attacked the country we call home and put us in danger.”

  Cameron shook his head. “You were never in any harm. I always knew where you were and made sure you were safe.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mobile phones. They gave me your exact location day and night. When the riots began in London I put out false information to the rioters’ phones to send them as far away as possible from your flat and Paula’s house. My daughters and grandson are the only people that matter to me.”

  “How dare you mention Stephen,” Alana cried. “Because of you what kind of a world will he grow up in? The Dark Ages? I want my nephew to have the opportunities I did, that you did when you were a boy.”

  Cameron sighed and his shoulders sagged. Michael watched as father and daughter battled while trying to peek at his watch. Alana, you have to convince him to call it off.

  “You were right about a great deal of things,” she continued. “The press acted unjustly at times and have little regard for individuals, just the headlines. The courts and police don’t always do the right thing. It’s sad what happened but making people change by force never works. They will always rebel. You did.”

  Alana moved closer to her father. Cameron raised his head to look into his child’s glistening yet determined eyes.

  “Stop this madness. I know that you’re a good man who did something bad. Don’t turn into a bad man and destroy the good.” She took hold of his hand. “Please, Daddy.”

  Chapter 26

  27th November 08:45

  As Alana allowed Cameron to hug her, Michael glanced at his watch. The older man was weeping and Alana could no longer hold back her tears. They remained locked together until she let go.

  “Because you asked me to stop it I will. I would do anything for you.”

  Alana pulled out some tissues from her bag.

  “Thanks,” Cameron said as he dabbed his cheeks. He scrunched up the tissue. “We need to go downstairs. I’ll contact the other members of Wreckoning and order them to stand down.”

  Michael started back the way they came when Cameron led them to the empty area to stop over the strange purple spot.

  “This is my reflection section. I can meditate here for hours but,” he twisted his foot on the ground, “sometimes I need to work.”

  The room began to shake. Alana was almost thrown off her feet as the floor beneath her descended. The concealed elevator dropped down through the bowels of Cameron’s mansion. The hydraulic arm slowed as they approached the basement then wheezed to a stop as they touched bottom.

  Twinkling lights danced between the racks of computers like a high-tech Christmas decoration. The noise and chill of a fan whipping from the ceiling disorientated them. At the other end of the dimly lit room was Cameron’s control centre. A wide leather chair reclined behind a bank of monitors. They showed a digital clock counting down.

  “My main server farm is underground on another part of the estate,” Cameron said as he led them to the screens. “These are used to run my system here.”

  He sat down then swivelled to face the larger central monitor and began typing. “All of Wreckoning is under my control. I just need to tell them to desist.”

  Guy has entered the chat.

  Woogie: Hi boss. Joined us to watch the carnage?

  Guy: There will be no more carnage. I am ordering everyone to abort the mission immediately. The third strike is cancelled.

  Pierce: Are you joking? Everything’s ready to go.

  Guy: This is not a joke. Do not release Hijax. That is a command.

  SF2: We’ve come too far to back down. What the hell has happened to you? Have you lost your balls??

  Woogie: SF2 is right. Just because you have no gonads doesn’t mean the rest of us are pussies.

  Guy: I’m serious. If you don’t stand down then you won’t receive your final payment.

  Pierce: Screw you and your money. Don’t you think we can take more from you anyway? We know who you are, JOHN.

  Woogie: JOHN MCBRIDE. JOHN MCBRIDE. JOHN MCBRIDE.

  SF2: We appreciate everything you’ve done for us but our partnership must end here. We want to see Britain BURN.

  Guy has been kicked out of the chat.

  “Damn it. They won’t listen,” Cameron said flinging his hands in the air.

  “Why do they think you’re John McBride?” Alana asked.

  “It was part of my cover. I wanted no one to know I was still alive so when I recruited the Wreckoning team I left subtle clues leading back to Hydra Security. I’m ashamed to say I used John as a fall guy if anything went wrong.”

  “Mr Faith, I couldn’t care less about your politics. My only concern is for my country. Tell me what were you planning to attack?” Michael said. The timer on the screen showed thirty-four minutes.

  “To shut down the press we used a Worm hidden in an update to Quark and Indesign.”

  “The two most popular software packages in the industry,” Alana added.

  “We had full control after that. We encrypted the data with a public encryption key which, incidentally, was all the letters on your necklace.”

  You are the key, she thought. In more ways than one.

  “The files on the judges and newspaper editors were a matter of online and offline digging. I believe you term it social engineering, Alana? I hired a network of people. Tara, or Mr Knox, directed that. Disabling police scanners was trickier as was freezing the lawyers’ bank accounts. I used the computers here to hack the Ministry of Justice myself.” There was a gleam in Cameron’s eye as he confessed this. “But all of this was nothing compared to the final target.”

  “Which is?” Michael said with impatience.

  “They’re called The Big Six: British Gas, Npower, SSE, Scottish Power, E.On, and EDF. They provide energy to ninety-five percent of Britain.”

  “My God, you’re going to turn off the power.”

  “Back to the Dark Ages,” Michael said in disbelief. “But how? Even with a thousand servers bombarding their firewalls they still couldn’t crack through.”

  “Quite correct. It would take hundreds of thousands if not millions of devices all working together and a monolith of a programme to coordinate it. Have you ever heard of a botnet?”

  “Of course.”

  “Remind me,” Alana said.

  “A botnet is a group of compromised computers. Code lies dormant awaiting our command to attack as a collective, like an army of zombies.”

  “How many computers do you control?” Michael said.

  “Computers? We have smartphones, tablets, laptops, office workstations, anything with a processor and access to the Internet. Are you aware that for years most connections to the Internet were susceptible to attack? It wasn’t documented but those of us in the know took full advantage. Everything became ours to control. Hundreds of thousands? Try millions of devices.”

  “Why don’t I know about this?” Michael rubbed his forehead.

  “Few do but today everyone will. To control them I devised a magic wand, if you will. I named it Hijax. When activated there’s nothing can stop it. It will also destroy the device once it’s finished with it.”

  “Can’t you prevent it?” Alana said.

  Cameron shook his head. “It’s too late. I entrusted the final programming to Wreckoning. It would take me days to analyse it and find a weakness. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”

  “Contact
the power companies. Warn them what’s coming,” Michael pleaded.

  “It wouldn’t do any good. They were warned before their security systems were inadequate but only one of them listened. I infiltrated that one myself for a separate strike but will refrain from doing so now.”

  Thirty minutes.

  “Will Wreckoning detonate before the 12:30 deadline?”

  “I don’t believe so. For a bunch of mercenaries they operate like trained soldiers. They’ll wait until 12:30 British Standard Time. Why do you ask?” Cameron said.

  Michael paced past the monitors deep in thought. “You said the five power companies’ defences were inadequate to handle the mass attack?”

  “Yes.”

  “What if Wreckoning attacked here? Are your systems capable of repelling them?”

  “Of course but there’s no way to change Hijax to target my house.”

  “I’m not suggesting that,” Michael said as he stopped by the foot of the recliner. “Would it be possible to copy your security software to the power companies’ systems?”

  Cameron pondered this, rubbing the grey bristles on his lip.

  “If I had access to their mainframes, possibly. I could upload my application which would filter through their networks. But it would be tight. Plus, why would they hand over control to a wanted hacker?”

  “Because they were ordered to. Can I use your phone?”

  “Use the computer, there’s a microphone built in.”

  Cameron called up the telephone app then pushed his seat away to give Michael access. He tapped a series of numbers on the keyboard and clicked Call.

  “Good afternoon?”

  “It’s Detective Inspector Michael Grant of the Cyber Terrorism Unit. I need to speak with the Prime Minister immediately. It’s urgent.”

  “One second, please,” the aide said and muted the line. A moment later and the PM spoke.

  “Grant? Where are you?”

  Martin’s voice sounded out through the speakers for the trio to hear clearly.

  “Prime Minister, the next targets are the energy companies. Wreckoning is going to shut down the nation’s power.”

  “Good God.”

  “We have thirty minutes to stop them. Sir, I need you to trust me when I say this. Contact the firms in person and order them to give me access to their systems immediately otherwise it will be too late.”

  “Grant, you realize if I do this I’m giving you the keys to the kingdom?”

  “Yes, sir. I won’t lose them.”

  There was a brief moment of silence.

  “I’ll phone you back on this number as soon as I’ve confirmed the first one.”

  The Prime Minister ended the call. Michael turned to speak with Cameron.

  “I need to arrest the other members of Wreckoning. Maybe we can get to them before they use the Hijax software.”

  Cameron’s mouth opened in surprise. “I’ve never ratted on anyone in my life.”

  “Please, Daddy. They don’t care about you and went rogue, remember? They only want to watch the world burn.”

  Cameron flicked between his daughter and the police man.

  “Only because you asked,” he said. “Pierce’s real name is Nicolas Rook, Woogie is Darryl Black, and both live in Ireland. SF2 is Ryu Kenzo and lives in Japan. I’ll get you their details now.”

  As he called up the files, Michael drew closer to two of the side monitors.

  “While you’re working can I communicate with my team in London?”

  “Sure. The other person must have encryption enabled for it to work, though.”

  “Don’t worry, he does.”

  Cameron opened a window and dragged it to a side screen for Michael to use. Michael tapped his fingers and entered the user name for Stevie Jackson, his tech genius at CTU. The monitor hummed as it tried to connect then the dishevelled figure of Stevie appeared.

  “Inspector Grant? I can barely see you.

  “Stevie, listen carefully. I’m sending you the names and locations of the members of Wreckoning. Tell Charlie to assemble a team. We need them detained immediately.”

  Michael attached the information and it uploaded quickly.

  “Got it. Where are you, boss? Did you find what you were looking for in Brazil?”

  “I’ll tell you when I return. Please hurry.”

  The young technician saluted and signed off. As he did a ring tone piped through the speakers.

  “It’s Max Martin,” Cameron said and moved the app so Michael could answer it.

  “Grant, I’ve managed to obtain the security protocols. They wouldn’t give them up easily but I warned them what was coming. Speak with my assistant Patrice while I contact the next one. Good luck.”

  The phone fumbled as it was passed on then a lady’s voice with an impeccable Oxford accent spoke. “This is Patrice. How can I get this information to you?”

  “Email it to al@n.a. Keep sending those details as soon as you receive them.”

  “I will,” she said and hung up.

  Cameron was jabbing at his keyboard. “I’ve collected a suite of tools to do the job but I’ve no idea if they’ll work. Nothing like this mass attack has been carried out before. I’m uncertain if it can be stopped.”

  The digital countdown read twenty-five minutes.

  “We have no other choice,” Michael said in earnest.

  An alert sounded. “The email has arrived.” Cameron opened the attachment and scanned the document. It contained two thousand pages.

  “It’ll take hours to skim through that thing,” Alana said.

  “Not if you know what you’re looking for.” Cameron licked his lips. “Here.” He pointed to a series of random characters. “The mainframe pass codes.”

  With a blur of his fingers, Cameron began to type. “They’ve multiple layers of security enabled. I just hope they’ve turned off the switch from their end or this isn’t going to work.” He copied the pass code onto the command line. The screen went blank.

  “What happened? Did it break?”

  “Patience, love.”

  A flickering blue dot appeared then shot off the screen. Suddenly the monitor was filled with little blue dots. They formed a solid rectangle with white writing.

  Enter Command:

  “We’re in,” Cameron said. The phone app rang.

  “Inspector Grant, the Prime Minister has three more companies sending their security protocols. However, one is refusing.”

  “Imbeciles,” Cameron snorted. “Hijax will crash through them easily without my help.”

  “I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”

  Michael moved closer to the microphone. “Please tell the Prime Minister to keep trying.”

  “All done.” Cameron raised his palms in the air. “I’ve uploaded my software. It should be enough to hold back the tide.”

  Ignoring the should part, Alana updated the men of the deadline.

  “We have twenty minutes left.”

  Cameron bit his lip. “We’re going to run out of time.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  There was a sound of three incoming emails. Cameron looked to Michael and Alana.

  “What the hell, let’s give it a shot.”

  “Give what a shot?”

  “We’re going to attempt a world first. The three of us will control hundreds of power stations simultaneously. I need you to do precisely what I say.”

  “Let’s do it,” Michael said.

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Cameron rubbed his palms together before placing them back on his keyboard. “I’m opening two windows on your screens. Follow my commands to the letter.”

  Alana was presented with a blinking cursor. There was a virtual keyboard waiting for her.

  “Okay, type the following.”

  Cameron called out the password which Alana and Michael entered in tandem.

  “No, Alana, that’s a back slash not a forward slash.�
�

  “Sorry,” she said and fixed the inconspicuous error.

  “Press Enter. You should see the mainframe password screen. Yes? Copy the pass codes I’m sending to you. No, Michael, in that field on your left.”

  The seconds flew by as Alana and Michael worked feverishly to obey Cameron’s instructions.

  “I’m in,” Michael said. Alana’s connection took a little longer then she added, “Me too.”

  “Great work. You should find a link to update the system.”

  With a few false leads the trio eventually discovered the correct path and managed to upload Cameron’s files.

  “Four down, one to go,” Michael said. But the phone app remained idle.

  “There’s only five minutes left.”

  Michael willed the phone to ring but nothing came. He was about to make the call when an email arrived.

  I managed to convince the fifth energy company to comply. I hope it’s not too late. This country owes you a debt of gratitude.

  Cameron opened the attachment and searched for the code.

  “Two minutes,” Alana warned.

  He hastily entered the details.

  “One minute.”

  “Come on, come on, come on…there it is.”

  Cameron copied the password and hit Enter. But nothing happened. The screen hung as if frozen.

  “Your computer’s broken,” Michael said, his face flustered with frustration.

  “No, something’s clogging the network.”

  The countdown timer had reached zero.

  “We’re too late.”

  Alana sat on the floor and pulled her knees up to her chin.

  “But it can’t be.”

  “I’m afraid she’s right. Let’s pray that the others survived.”

  They remained in silence, awaiting the fate of the United Kingdom. All hope lingered on the last ditch effort of the man who had orchestrated the assault.

  The time of reckoning had arrived.

  Chapter 27

  5th November 20:00, One year later

  Floating embers sailed high through the billowing smoke like fiery orange insects swarming to their nests. Guy’s sullen eyes followed them as they fluttered past his head. His feet were toasty, the straw-stuffed socks tickled by the tongues of flame licking up through the bracken. His trousers – a discarded pair of jeans – held him in place as the lord of his castle. His brimmed cap sat lopsided. Thickets of hay jutted from his nose to create a haphazard moustache. The snap and crackle of the blazing wood grew louder.