by Mark A Biggs
‘Sorry Max, let me start again. The internet we have now is like where cars were in, say, the late 1960s; more of us were owning one and that was creating jobs, direct and indirect. Oil companies raked in the money and government took its taxes, some of which they were spending on bigger and better roads, which encouraged us to buy more cars. And so, the cycle went around. No one, business, government or citizens, cared much about safety. All they wanted were cars even though thousands were dying on our roads each year. There were no seat belts, airbags, stability controls, speed cameras, ABS braking systems and many countries had unlimited speed limits. It was a cavalier time, when business and government cared about making more cars and little else. Then, safety wasn’t a priority, it was an individual’s responsibility, not a business or government concern. For the individual, safety was irrelevant because it was always somebody else who was going to be injured or killed, never themselves.
‘That’s where the internet is now. Business and governments are forcing everybody on line. Soon, you won’t be able to pay your utility bills or even interact with a government authority without doing it on line. Tradespeople won’t post a bill in the mail, it will come as an invoice attached to an email, or whatever replaces electronic mail. Online shopping, all paid for online is spreading rapidly. We no longer meet people in pubs and even dating is being done through social media. News, as we know it, is changing. Printed newspapers are in decline and, with them, advertising revenue and independent investigative reporting. People are getting their news content on line, not all of it real. This is occurring, as I tried to explain, without safety – concern for the individual user.
Like before, we’re being forced to drive but without speed limits, seat belts or airbags. It’s an almost regulatory-free environment, ripe for exploitation, anywhere in the world. That’s what we do, capitalise on the opportunity. We scam billions of dollars as people and business race down the cyber highway and, because the internet is worth trillions of dollars, nobody really cares about the billions we make. When they do, by the time someone finds a patch to one of our scams, we have invented a new one. Our forecasts project rich pickings for a good while yet.’
I couldn’t prevent myself from laughing aloud, which stopped the professor in his tracks.
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘that’s exactly how I see the internet, as if we are racing our brand new shiny sports car, hitting phenomenal speeds, but we haven’t quite got around to inventing the brakes.’
Whoops! My mission is to encourage and elicit information that I can pass on when I escape, not to air my personal biases.
‘Yes, that’s what I just said,’ interrupted the professor sounding irritated, before continuing. ‘We categorise our cyber-activities into Ransomware, Scamming, Cybercurrencies and Propaganda. Most are mechanisms for making money – some are sophisticated cyber weapons, like the WannaCry worm which we used on behalf of the Kremlin to crash the British health system. It’s also ransomware. You see, we sometimes work for our Russian friends for profit, but mostly we help them with propaganda, interfering and meddling in the operation of western democracies.’
‘How do you do that?’ I asked, hoping Claudia wouldn’t prevent him from answering.
‘Things like phishing attacks when we masquerade as a trustworthy entity in electronic communication like email, to obtain sensitive information, and fake news that we distribute through social media. You see we keep busy,’ he said, smiling.
‘The WannaCry worm?’ I asked. ‘My good friend Claudia is particularly keen for you to share that success with me.’
The professor thought for a moment. I doubted it was reluctance, more considering how to explain a tangled web of activities.
‘When you foiled the biological attack and our extortion and blackmailing of Britain?’ He said, paused and continued, ‘You seem surprised, Max. I know exactly who you are. You see, we had prepared the WannaCry worm for just such a situation. When Monya ordered its release, he also told me about the famous Max and Olivia. I’ve put two and two together. What are the chances of a frail old Englishman sporting the same name turning up here? You have to be the Max.’
‘Yes,’ I conceded, ‘and I think that’s why our good Claudia is keen for me to hear what devastation you wreaked. She believes it might be good for my soul.’
‘Max you’re as arrogant as Monya said that you were. The WannaCry is one of my inventions. It’s both a cyber weapon and ransomware. We released it to cripple the British health system just as they were trying to cope with the influx of victims from the biological attack. It locked their computerised medical records. They couldn’t process people, check their medical history, access on line x-rays or pathology. We caused total chaos. When the worm locked their computers, it displayed the tell-tale ransom demand, which is where our partnership with the Kremlin comes in. They wanted to hit back at Britain with a cyber-attack and by using malicious software it’s a win-win. They get the disruption and we pocket the profits as people pay to get their information back. The WannaCry, I’m not ashamed to admit, was a devastating attack and has now spread to over ninety-nine countries and compromised over 300,000 computers. It will net over sixty million dollars and that’s nothing. WannaCry is just one of our ransomware worms. You’re from Australia. Last year we extorted more than a billion dollars through cybercrime activities there. What’s the population in Australia? Nothing, maybe twenty-two or three million. Just imagine what we are making from places like the USA, Britain, Canada, Europe and now India and even China.’
The figures he was talking about seemed extraordinary and, although I wanted to probe and maybe ask some social and moral questions, though I knew he wouldn’t care, I thought it better to wait.
Instead, trying to sound impressed, hoping to learn more about the way the Mafia operated, I asked, ‘Monya’s syndicate, it can manage all that—worldwide?’
‘No. Each member of the Brotherhood has their own dedicated areas of activity. Something like the WannaCry worm crosses all boundaries, so we pay the other members a royalty. These big initiatives have a single Brotherhood syndicate as sponsor, like the blockchain project. The other Brotherhood members contribute money to the research and development and, in return, receive a share of the profits. Not all our schemes work, so having other syndicates involved is a way of sharing the risk.’
‘Some projects are too big to fail,’ interjected Claudia, looking sternly towards the Professor for talking about blockchains.
He nodded, simply repeating her words a little contritely. ‘Yes, some projects are too big to fail.’
This blockchain project must be massive.
I had not heard the term before Monya mentioned it in Moscow and, with Claudia now closing the conversation, I decided the subject was dead for now. Instead, I chose to probe his conscience, searching for anything that I could exploit to my advantage at another time.
‘I wonder, did you also calculate the number of people who would die when you shut down the British health system?’
‘No,’ he replied, squirming uncomfortably before saying arrogantly, ‘I assume Claudia was hoping you would feel the weight. We must see these things as they are, collateral damage in a war. For us, this is simple business economics, nothing more, and nothing less.’
Several responses, most of them fuelled by my anger, rushed around my mind but, remembering my plan not to antagonise Claudia, I settled on a different approach, which I hoped would knock the smugness out of the Professor.
‘Professor, I appreciate your candour. Might I extend to you the same courtesy?’
He smiled, but I could see apprehension drifting across his face as he nodded in affirmation, unsure what I was about to say.
I stared directly into his eyes and said, ‘Claudia knows!
‘Knows? Knows what?’ he replied, hesitantly.
‘That you are compromised!’
He glanced anxiously towards Claudia before returning his gaze to me. I contemplated lettin
g silence work its magic but, instead, chose to exploit his nervousness by upping the pressure.
‘Unless you want to join me in wearing cement shoes and exploring the bottom of the harbour, now is the time to speak up.’
I paused and Claudia seemed content to wait and see how the conversation played out. From his body language, the Professor was apprehensive, perhaps frightened. If he was compromised, about now he would be thinking, how do they know.
After about twenty seconds, I asked again, ‘Well?’
From the panic that was now written across his face, I knew that a confession was moments away.
‘It’s—it’s the CIA. They threatened to kill me and put my son in jail. Claudia, I promise you it’s not our operations. No—no, it’s—it’s the propaganda stuff, the fake news, our meddling in the US elections for the Kremlin.’
The Professor started rambling, trying to unload as much information as quickly as he could. I had no doubt that he was telling the truth because he was petrified. He was the type of man who would be easy to threaten, an easy target. If it weren’t for sloppy tradecraft by the CIA, Monya’s cyber ventures could have been severely compromised.
The Professor was still ranting when I focused my attention back towards him.
‘Ironic, isn’t it,’ he was saying. ‘When the CIA have such a dubious record of meddling in others elections. They don’t know how to respond to this modern warfare, when we sabotage their activities by hacking their emails and add spin on social media to exploit their political dysfunction. Claudia,’ he continued, maintaining the momentum, ‘what else was I to do? They threatened me. Said that, if I tried to leave Croatia, my wife and I would be assassinated. It’s my son, I fear for him. He’s nothing to do with any of this. He works for a big bank in the USA. They said that the FBI would investigate him and fabricate a trail of fraud which would send him to jail for the rest of his life. I wanted to tell you Claudia, I did. But I couldn’t because they’re monitoring all of the phones. The office is under surveillance and they are tracking my movements. I’m trapped. I’m sorry Claudia. What was I to do?’
‘What information have you given them?’ asked Claudia, calmly.
‘Nothing about our work. They wanted to know about the fake Facebook accounts, groups, likes and comments. They wanted me to tell them how we have automated the posting across the network and how we manipulate the algorithms to push false information around. I’ve given them a sample of our phony accounts, a few thousand; that’s all.’
‘Has your handler shown any interest in the other things we do?’ asked Claudia.
It’s only a matter of time. The Professor will sing like a canary at the slightest hint of a threat. He’s a liability.
‘No—no, I promise,’ answered the professor, again shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
‘Let me explain how this works, sweetie,’ said Claudia, smiling, an edginess creeping into her voice. ‘Once you are compromised, that is you share any information, no matter how innocuous it may seem in the grand scheme of what we do, they have you by the balls. Then, if you don’t give them more when they come asking, they blackmail you, threatening to expose you. By remaining silent, Professor, you have put our operation and billions of dollars at risk.’
The colour drained from the Professor’s face and I was convinced that he was aware of his impending fate. I had to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from mocking with, ‘Claudia what a lovely world you live in.’
Instead I kept my counsel. In truth part of me wanted to see how she would manage this conundrum. On the one hand, he had put their business model at risk but on the other, he was an important asset.
‘Professor,’ she said, apparently unfazed, tomorrow there is a party on the Lelantos for some local dignitaries. You and your wife will receive an invitation to attend. Once on board, we will continue with our discussions. Providing you tell me everything, we will protect you, even from the CIA. We can use the Lelantos to smuggle you out of Croatia. Until then, continue as if nothing has changed. Don’t pack or bring anything out of the ordinary with you to the Lelantos, not even a photograph. We will arrange for onward passage of your things, once you are safely out of the country. Professor, whatever you do, you must not tell your wife. Tell her only that you are both expected to attend the function. We were planning on sailing for Split on Sunday. Instead, after the last guest leaves on Saturday night, we will set sail. Once we are at sea, the Dubrovnik cyber operations will be transferred to our Moscow office and the office here will be sterilised. Ordinarily, Professor, it would be a simple matter of taking you off ship with the helicopter and then flying to Moscow in our plane. Unfortunately, we have some minor mechanical problems with the jet, so you will remain with us until it’s repaired. The Lelantos is impenetrable, I assure you.’
‘Thank you, Claudia. I’m really sorry. What about my son and his family?’
‘Does he know about your activities?’
‘No—no, of course not, he thinks I work for a large multinational company.’
‘I will have them picked up thirty minutes after we leave port and are safely at sea. These things, Professor, have a habit of working themselves out, so you needn’t worry yourself. Oh, and Professor—’
I had seen Claudia do this before, in the farmhouse in Scotland, when she was counting down to when Olivia should have been killed. She looks at her watch as she speaks, putting the fear of God in you, as she tells you how much time you have left.
‘Sweetie, in ten minutes, our men will be watching your son Peter and his darling wife Bella. They have two delightful children. Sammy turned eight just last week and Jade, lovely Jade; five is such a wonderful age don’t you think? This is not a threat, Professor, call it insurance, until you’re safely on board the Lelantos, although I’m sure you have no intention of speaking with the CIA again. Monya likes to think of us all as family and, when one of our family is going through a grim time, we help out and sometimes even forgive. If someone were to betray the Brotherhood, especially after we have been generous with our help, well that would be another matter entirely.’
‘No—no Claudia, I promise our operations are safe. I’m loyal to the Brotherhood, all I ask is that you protect my family.’
‘Very well then, sweetie,’ said Claudia.
She stood, which indicated the meeting was over, and I noticed droplets of perspiration trickling down the side of the Professor’s face.
‘I look forward to seeing you tomorrow sweetie and continuing our wonderful enlightening talk.’
Claudia strutted out of the office and back to the car, twice looking back to me.
‘Keep up Max.’
She was in her element: confident, in control and intimidating. I knew that this was a dangerous woman. It was risky, but the timing was right to test her identity once more. It had to be done carefully, with a little humour to help lubricate the topic, moving on, before she became angry. She slowed when we reached the car and even opened the door for me.
She is feeling good.
‘Thank you,’ I said as she went around the other side, ready for the drive back to the yacht.
When she got in, I fired my first volley. ‘We don’t make a bad team.’
She didn’t reply, but smiled as she fiddled with her keys for the ignition.
‘Does it bother you, when you are thinking about the hundreds of people you kill through your involvement with Monya?’
‘Hundreds?’ She laughed, adding, ‘Enough for your government to send you to kill me, perhaps.’
‘It must be getting close,’ I responded, jovially, wanting to maintain an intense but light exchange. Returning to a more reflective tone for my next question, I said, ‘Is that to be the legacy of Claudia?’
‘Max, you’re mistaken if you think I care about what other people think of me.’
‘Ha,’ I said in good humour. ‘I’m not sure that’s true. Look at the way you dress. You’re always stunning, even gorgeous. And the cars
you drive, the yachts you like to sail on, the private jet, they all make a statement. When you enter a room, you radiate, I am Claudia. You have a presence and I wondered if you want to be remembered as something more than a ruthless killer.’
‘Is that how you see me?’ Claudia asked with a hint of surprise in her voice.
‘I see you as Lucia, but I wondered if that’s not how you see yourself.’ Not wanting to push things too far, I added in a jovial tone, ‘Even ruthless people can change; look at Yasser Arafat, Anwar Sadat, Martin McGuinness and even Gaddafi towards the end of his life. Your legacy might yet be as a stateswoman or even peacemaker. Who knows what the future holds? One thing is for certain – it’s yours for the choosing. At my age, I’m happy to choose my shoes.’
‘I do love you sometimes, Max. There’s just one problem with your sermon. The people you mentioned are men and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a woman.’
‘We men do tend to dominate when it comes to the ruthlessness stakes,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders. ‘What about when whole countries change. We call them grand ladies? South Africa after the Apartheid era with its Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Germany after the holocaust and Rwanda after the genocide with its Hutu and Tutsi reconciliation?’
‘I noticed,’ said Claudia seriously, ‘that you didn’t include my country, the old Yugoslavia in your list.’
‘Sadly, that’s true and nor did I say my home of Australia. Both of our countries are yet to reconcile their dark past – to forgive and move forward.’
We both waited, saying nothing, but it was an introspective silence, rather than being uncomfortable.
‘I was wondering if I was invited to the party. Randolph did say he had a dinner jacket for me,’ I said, breaking the spell.
‘Will you promise not to try and escape or cause a commotion?’
‘I’m a POW; it’s my duty to try and escape.’
Sternly, Claudia looked across at me and, with all humour drained from her voice replied, ‘Sweetie, you’re a guest and it would be unwise to test my resolve.’