“Is anyone a medical professional?” Ted shouted.
A woman in blue scrubs came forward. “I can help.”
Ted undid Dan’s tie and pulled his shirt open. While he was measuring the distance from his clavicle, the nurse cleared Dan’s throat. She gave him five breaths.
Ted started CPR. He heard sirens in the distance.
C’mon, Dan, stay with me.
****
Tamika Adams Washington, mayor of Atlanta, called the meeting to order. A middle-aged black woman, she looked half her age with smooth skin and a delightful figure. She sat in the middle of a curved array of desks at the head of the City Council Chamber.
“Mr. Johnson, can you tell us what happened?”
Jackson Johnson, Atlanta ‘s Chief Information Officer, picked up a piece of paper and leaned into the microphone. “Thank you, Madam Mayor.” He cleared his throat. “We have been hit by a ransomware attack.”
“Could you explain ransomware for those of us technically challenged?”
“Yes Ma’am. Ransomware is a piece of malicious computer code that infects your systems. It typically encrypts your files, so you can’t open them without a password. It pops up a screen telling you that to fix your computers you must pay the hackers a certain amount of money.”
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. Go ahead with your report.”
“It’s bad. To date we have identified the virus in our court systems, our police systems, and Internet and Wi-Fi connections are down throughout the city. Nine-one-one doesn’t work. The airports systems are down. People can’t pay their water bills or court fines. All court cases have been postponed. No one can do any business with the DMV.” Johnson looked up from his paper. “In effect, the entire City of Atlanta is shut down.
Mayor Washington shook her head. “And how did this get into our systems?”
Johnson harrumphed. “It found a security flaw in our firewall.”
The mayor already knew the answer but asked the question to get it on the public record. “Mr. Johnson, why did we have a security flaw?”
Johnson looked down at his paper and spoke in a monotone voice. “We didn’t apply the Microsoft patches in a timely manner.”
“How long has it been since you received the last release?”
“Over a month.” Johnson was sweating.
“And this last release would have plugged the firewall hole?”
“Ah… yes ma’am.”
“Explain to me,” her voice rose an octave, along with the volume. “How you could have let this go so long?”
“Madam mayor, it’s a matter of budget. We just don’t have the budget to apply all patches in a timely manner.”
“Are you telling me you left us unprotected because of a few measly dollars? That’s like not responding to a fire because the fire department is short on funds. If it’s a critical patch, you find the dollars. Am I clear?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Okay people what are we going to do about it?
The city treasurer spoke up. “Ma’am, they are asking fifty-one-thousand dollars in ransom. Do we pay it or fight it?”
“It has always been our policy not to negotiate with terrorist. Mr. Johnson, how long will it take you to fix this problem?”
Jackson Johnson wiped the sweat from his forehead and squirmed in his chair. “I can’t really tell you. It could be a couple of weeks or a couple of months.”
“A couple of months?” Mayor Washington almost came out of her chair. “You mean the City of Atlanta won’t be able to do any business for a couple of months?”
“It could take longer, ma’am.”
“Ms. Williams, pay the ransom.”
****
Mary Beth Henderson cruised the parking garage for ten minutes looking for an empty space. Kaiser Permanente’s Bellevue hospital certainly was popular. There were acres of handicapped parking, right in front of the main entrance, but the higher ups must have wanted able-bodied patients to get more exercise.
Finally, Mary Beth found an SUV pulling out and waited, holding up traffic. Her blue Toyota Sienna mini-van fit easily into the space.
She always wore sensible walking shoes, so the quarter mile or so to the coffee stand in front of the building was no problem. Taking a page from Catrina’s book, she wore a flower print dress to appear less threatening. She had taken over the closet in Catrina’s office and kept several changes of clothes handy, so she would be ready for anything.
Mary Beth found her client sitting at a table in a corner by herself wearing standard green scrubs, “Jane, nice to see you. Sorry I’m so late.”
“Hi.” Jane kept her voice down and glanced around nervously. “I’m on a break, so we have to make this quick.”
Mary Beth looked up at the sun in the clear blue sky. It was too glorious for anyone to have marital problems. They sat at concrete tables in the middle of a sea of concrete. Interstate 405 was only feet away on their west side and the noise was incessant, but somehow, trees poked through cut outs in the pavement, birds sang, and the world seemed wonderful.
Mary Beth slipped into the seat across from Jane. “I’m glad you called me. What’s going on?”
Jane shook her head. “I don’t know why I called. I mean, he’s being his usual self, but there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
“What happened?” Mary Beth reached for Jane’s hand, but Jane pulled away.
“He blew up at my daughter. It’s always the same. She wore a cute little mini-skirt with a tank top to school today. He asked her -- no, demanded -- she change her clothes. If she didn’t, she was a whore. He said that when she came home pregnant, he would throw her out of the house. I can’t stand the way he treats her.”
“I’m so sorry.” Mary Beth shook her head and looked into Jane’s teary brown eyes. “This seems like a common pattern in your house.”
Jane merely nodded and stared into her paper coffee cup.
“I told my daughter to dress for him when leaving the house, then she could change into what she wanted when she got to school.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, undermining my husband’s authority, but he’s living in the Dark Ages.”
“What else does he do?” Mary Beth needed her to open up. She couldn’t help Jane if she didn’t know the whole story.
“He has good days and bad days. When everything goes well at work, he’s the nicest man in the world. When he has problems, he takes it out on us.”
“Go on …”
“He mostly picks on me.” Tears ran down Jane’s cheeks. “He thinks the fact that I work outside the home is unforgiveable. His religion tells him wives should stay at home and take care of the kids. We have a never-ending battle over my daughter and me not wearing hijabs. He makes me call him when I get home, so he knows where I am. I have to keep a log of where I go and when. If I’m the least bit late, he thinks I’m with someone.”
Jane paused. She fingered the edge of the table and bit her lips.
“Are you?”
“No!” Jane’s head perked up and her eyes flashed anger. “Of course not. I’m faithful. I made my vows and I stick to them.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I just need to know everything.”
Jane nodded.
“What else has he done?”
“He never goes off on my … our … son, who can’t do anything wrong.” Jane took a sip from her cup. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s a great kid. It’s just that his father thinks he walks on water and his sister is worthless. He has a college fund going for our son but won’t put a dime away for our daughter. He thinks women don’t need an education because they’re just going to become someone’s wife. I opened a secret account for her and have money deducted from my paycheck before he sees it.”
“You’re strong. So will your daughter be.” Mary Beth wrote in a spiral notebook.
“Thanks.” Jane looked up from her coffee. “We have our worst arguments because he wants a large family. I had a horrible tim
e with my son’s birth. The doctor said if I got pregnant again, I could lose the baby, maybe my own life. I had my tubes tied. There I was in the hospital, so weak, with my new baby, and I feared he would kill me.”
“Did he hit you?”
“No.” Jane looked off towards the Cascade Mountains to the east. “He belittled me. Said I had no faith. He said that if God willed that we would have more children, then it would be safe. If not, then it was God’s will that I come to him.”
“Did you discuss the problem with him before you had the surgery?”
“No … I … ah, I know I should have. I know I should have let him be part of the decision, but I knew what his answer would be. I needed to take charge of my body, my life. I couldn’t let him stop me.” She sniffled, then blew her nose in a napkin. “Mary Beth, I screwed up. This is all my fault.”
“It is not your fault. Don’t take the blame for his bad behavior.” Mary Beth reached back into her memory to understand Jane’s feelings.
“That was the start. From then on, he devalued me. Treated me like a piece of property. He thinks he owns me. He won’t let me have any friends or call my parents. He checks my cell phone and email. He does the same thing to my daughter.”
What do I do? She’s not in any physical danger, but this abuse is intolerable. I have to get her out.
“Jane, when you’re ready, I’ll be here to help you.”
“I … I … don’t know.” Jane looked at her watch. “I have to get back to work. Thank you for talking to me.”
Chapter 8
The lunch rush ended. Hope Higuera collected her purse and jacket. El Nuevo Chaparral ran with clock-like precision. She really didn’t need to be there most of the time, but she wanted to meet the guests, build a personal relationship with them. Like Papa always said, love was the secret to success in the restaurant business. She had just enough time to go to her meeting and get back for the dinner rush.
Hope grew up poor in the barrios of East L.A. Mama was a maid in some big-shot Hollywood producer’s Bel Air home and Papa cooked in a Mexican restaurant. Hope never had money and never learned how to manage it.
Her classes at UC Davis put her on the right track, and she had Papa’s values. She saved every penny she could get her hands on and rarely spent money on anything extravagant.
Her five-year-old Subaru Outback waited for her in the back of the parking lot off Eastlake Avenue. The Subaru was the ideal car for her. It was small, which fit her tiny size, it had lots of cargo room and was inexpensive to drive. Papa would have been proud of her choice.
The lot sloped down the hill and a fringe of mature trees cut off her view of Lake Union. She would drive down to South Seattle to pick up her liquor order for the week, then back to Seattle to see her advisor.
From Eastlake, she made her way to the Denny Way on-ramp and merged into traffic on Interstate 5 South. As the radio played her Stratus channel, she set the cruise control and rocked out with Brianna as she headed on down the road.
The car accelerated. She didn’t notice at first, but soon found herself zipping from lane to lane to avoid traffic. She tapped on the brakes.
The cruise control didn’t turn off. She tapped the brake pedal several times. Nothing happened. She stomped on the brakes. The car didn’t slow.
The needle on her speedometer climbed steadily. Eighty, eighty-five, ninety. She was flying past traffic. The car in front of her was moving too slowly, and there was no room to change lanes.
She stomped on the brake again, then held down her horn. The car moved over just before she rear ended it.
“Mama!” she cried out.
She tried to shift out of gear, but the lever wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she tried. She pulled on the emergency brake handle, but nothing happened.
Ninety-five. One hundred.
Red lights flashed in her rear-view mirror. The sirens screamed in her ears.
A patrol car pulled alongside her, and the officer waved her to the side. She tried to indicate that she couldn’t stop to him.
The officer understood. The patrol car shot ahead of her. How fast must he be going? The other cars on the road moved to the right.
Hope’s speedometer was pegged. Two more police cars joined the cavalcade. Through her open sun roof, she spotted News Chopper 7.
She reached down and turned off the ignition. The car kept running.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God …”
Exit after exit flashed by. She was well past South Seattle. Next up was the Federal Way exit.
She pushed the phone button on her steering wheel and said “nine-one-one.”
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“I’m in the blue Subaru headed southbound on I-5. My car’s out of control. I can’t stop it.”
“May I get your name and location please?”
“Hope Higuera. I just blew past the Federal Way exit. You have three cop cars with me.”
“Please stay on the line.”
Hope’s heart tried to break out of her chest. Her breathing came in short gasps.
“Ms. Higuera, this is Officer Keith.” The voice came over the speakers in her dashboard. “I’m riding alongside of you.”
Hope snuck a quick glance to her right. The officer in the car next to her smiled.
“I understand you have a situation. You can’t control your car. Is that correct?”
“Yes, I can’t make it stop.”
“Okay, stay with me. Don’t panic. I’m right here. We’re going to get you out of this.”
The cell phone went silent. The next exit was Tacoma. As they blew by, Hope noticed a patrol car with its lights flashing, blocking the on-ramp from traffic.
“How are you going to stop me?”
“Don’t panic. We’re working on an idea. The State Patrol is taking over the situation. They have cars lining up to help you south of Tacoma.”
As he spoke the words, Hope noticed a State Patrol sedan joining in the chase.
“Miss, I’m sorry, we have traffic ahead that we can’t clear in time. I’m going to ease you into the guard rail to slow you down and use my car to steady you. Do you have your seat belt on?”
“Yes.” Hope was breathless.
“Keep trying the brakes and emergency brake. I’ll be ready in a few moments.”
Hope pumped her brakes, crossed herself and said another Hail Mary. The landscape flew by so fast she couldn’t tell where she was. The highway signs flashed by her in instants.
“We’re ready, Miss.” Officer Keith said. “Hold on. Cross your hands in front of your face and wait for the impact. It should be over in a second. Do you hear me?”
“Y … Yes.”
The patrol car inched closer and closer to her. Hope held the wheel until the last possible instant, then crossed her fists over her face and closed her eyes.
She heard the horrible screech of metal-on-metal. The devil scratched his claws against heaven’s gates. The cop pushed her into the concrete Jersey barrier. Her car screamed in protest. The airbag exploded in her face. It seemed to take five minutes for it to inflate; everything happened in slow-motion. The bag slammed into her face. The airbags on the side inflated burst opened.
She felt the car leave the ground but couldn’t see anything, her face buried in the airbag. She felt a rolling motion. Her stomach let go on her. She spewed her lunch into the airbag.
What felt like an hour, the car came down on its roof. The crash was deafening. She felt the roof cave in on her head. The car skidded forever, spinning on its top, before smashing into a concrete road barrier and coming to a stop. The engine still screamed in her ears.
Before she had a chance to take another breath, foam filled her world.
She saw Chris’s face in a flash of light, then everything went black.
****
Ted drummed his fingertip on his desk. Bear, across from him, squirmed in his chair. Late afternoon sun filtered through the window, highlighting t
he dust motes in the air.
“I just heard from my contact at SPD,” Ted said. “Dan’s heart attack was due to a run-away pacemaker. Grab onto your chair.” He paused for effect. “This is the weird part. They think someone took over his pacemaker by cell phone and deliberately made it go haywire.”
“That’s murder.” Bear wrinkled his brow. “They have to investigate it.”
Ted sat back and twirled an ink pen in his fingers. “My contact says they don’t have a clue. They don’t even know where to start. They’re bringing in the FBI.”
Bear stood and turned towards the door, then he turned back. “What are WE going to do about this? He was your friend, Ted.”
“Yeah.” Ted dropped the pen and cupped his chin with this hand. “We have to do something. To help. I’m going to research pacemakers. See how this could have happened.”
“Me too.” Bear stood in the open doorway. “The Fibbies don’t have much of a cyber-intelligence program. I can run circles around them. We need to step in.”
“Who would do this?” Ted asked.
Bear scratched his head. “I dunno. Maybe Russia. China. North Korea. They all have the technology and motive. But why Dan Rider?”
“He just got back from the Middle East. He was writing a story about ISIS’s technical abilities. He was convinced that they were going to launch a cyber-attack against us.”
“There it is. They needed to stop him from publishing the story.”
“Okay, that’s where we’re gonna start. I’ll call the Times, talk to the editor, see if I can get a copy of his notes.”
****
Chris Hardwick dashed out of court, leaving his second chair, Kathy Nguyen, to cross examine the witness. He had to get to Hope. Nothing else mattered. Disregarding stop signs and speed limits, he pulled his Porsche into the Harbor View Hospital emergency room parking and ran to the emergency room desk. “Hope Higuera. Where is she? I’m Chris Hardwick. They’re expecting me.”
The heavy woman behind the counter typed a few strokes and looked at her computer screen. “She’s in operating room three. If you’ll go down this hallway, turn left, then right, you’ll find the waiting room. I think there are some others there already.”
Cyberwarfare Page 6