by Mark A Pryor
“They spotted a drone.” Vyper grabbed her cell phone and pressed a number. “If your phone responds, no one is jamming. They will be vulnerable.”
The phone in Niko’s pocket vibrated and rang as he pulled to a stop. “Turn on the jammer. Put the antenna on the roof.”
While Vyper reached into the back seat, a drone appeared above Cybercade, dropping rapidly. It hit the roof with a bang, and a fireball erupted from the top of the building.
Vyper barely flinched as she retrieved the antenna and stuck the magnetic mount on the roof of the Prius.
Niko jumped out of the car and searched the sky. The faint sound of an electric drill—or angry hornets—drew his attention to the right, where an octocopter holding a package hovered a hundred yards away.
Vyper rushed over to him. “The jammer is working. It looks like this drone is programmed to stop when it loses its signal. If we turn off the jammer, I believe it will continue its attack.”
A siren wailed at Cybercade, overwhelming the buzzing of the octocopter. Niko peered through the tree line. He saw dozens of people running from the front door. One woman held her cell phone to her ear, then glanced at the screen and put the phone back in her pocket. Two men did the same thing.
Vyper shook her head. “Cell phones, security cameras, nothing will work. Emergency responders will not come.”
“I can shoot it down,” said Niko. “But I’d rather avoid that in this neighborhood. Maybe we should let it hover until it runs out of power. How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Hard to say. Maybe up to fifteen—”
A metallic boom came from the building. The drone broke apart and fell.
Through the tree line, Niko spotted two men in guard uniforms aiming rifles at the sky. A broken drone lay on the parking lot a dozen feet in front of them.
Outside Cybercade, everyone tried to start their cars at once, like the beginning of the Indy 500. Horns blared, and tires squealed, as cars darted to the exit, narrowly avoiding collisions.
Niko searched the sky in the area he believed the other octocopters came from. “They used three drones on the Action Center, but I don’t see another one. We have to get out of here soon. Let’s turn off the jammer and watch.”
He reached into the back seat and flipped the switch. Less than a minute later, a buzzing sound announced the approach of another drone. It stopped the second he turned the jammer back on.
A second gunshot hit the drone, knocking it out of the sky.
Niko turned off the equipment again. They waited one minute, then another. After five minutes with no sign of a drone, Niko pulled the antenna off the roof and tossed it inside the car. He ran to the driver’s side and jumped in behind the wheel. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Hold on,” said Vyper. She opened the back of the Prius and removed a license plate from the spare tire compartment. She attached it magnetically on top of the existing plate before getting in the car.
Niko backed out and drove to the road before turning on his lights.
“Take the parkway back,” said Vyper. “Traffic cameras recorded our arrival. The Prius will look suspicious if it is seen arriving and leaving the area within a short period of time.”
“You changed the plates. Besides, there are a lot of light blue Priuses on the road. Aren’t you being a bit paranoid?”
“I am cautious.”
On the way to the parkway, Niko tried to make sense of the chaotic day. “The Russians weren’t successful in taking out Cybercade. And they’d be nuts to try again.”
“If no one steals any of their money, perhaps they will assume the threat is over.”
A chill shot up Niko’s spine. “Then they’re free to execute their plan. But we don’t know what it is.”
Profiling
Chapter 12
As soon as they arrived home, Niko flipped on cable news and sat on the couch. Funny how he’d come to think of Vyper’s place as home. She insisted he stay until they eliminated Sokolov as a threat.
The TV screen showed a live aerial view of the Cybercade building surrounded by fire engines, police cars, and other emergency vehicles. Below the images, a Breaking News chyron announced:
ANOTHER DRONE ATTACK ON GOVERNMENT BUILDING
Vyper sat next to Niko and opened her laptop. “They say the same kind of drones were used in both attacks, but no one mentions Russians.”
The woman at the anchor desk announced the latest:
“… so far, no deaths have been reported. Emergency medical personnel are treating the injured in the parking area. At least five people were transported by ambulance to area hospitals. A Fairfax County Police spokesman said the injuries and damage would have been much higher if not for the heroic efforts of two security guards who shot down the drones. For more—”
Niko stood. “We were lucky. No one died. And it appears no one noticed our car.” He headed toward the garage. “I’ll put the jammer away.”
After moving the equipment to the computer room, Niko flopped on the couch. “I still don’t think we’re safe. If Sokolov ever realizes I’m alive, he’ll come after me. That means you could be in danger, too.”
Vyper nodded. “That is why we must do something to neutralize him.”
“What about his money? Marko threatened to take it all. Let’s take it.”
“Marko was smart, but he was bluffing. I gave him the only information I had on Sokolov’s accounts. I do not know where that murderer keeps the rest of his money.”
That was our ace in the hole. Now it’s gone.
Vyper closed her laptop and turned to face him. “You are surprised. I thought you knew.” She placed her hand on his. “We can stop him—you and me. We agreed. I will use my Prixster tricks, and you will be Trotsky.”
Her touch felt warm. Her eyes, light brown with gold flecks, held his gaze. All the awkwardness between them was gone. Even with all the tension, Niko had the urge to put a move on her. Kiss her.
Too risky. Could spook her. Take it slow.
“Okay, but you found Sokolov’s money before. Can you do it again?”
“It will take some time, but I can do it—thanks to Marko. He did not always follow the rules. We recently performed a vulnerability assessment of the US Treasury systems, and I made an unauthorized copy of suspicious account reports. I also know a back door into the European SWIFT system.”
“Holy crap. You can do that?”
“It is necessary. Marko would understand.”
“If you get caught—stealing data from Treasury and breaking into SWIFT—you could go to prison. Are you sure you want to risk it?”
Vyper removed her hand and straightened her back. “Marko is dead because of Sokolov. I will do anything to destroy that man.”
“I feel the same way.” Niko grabbed his laptop. “I’ll try to trace him through my contacts with Ukrainian hacker groups. I’m sure Sokolov himself never used a computer on the internet—he’d have people take care of those menial tasks for him.”
“I have a database of millions of Facebook users. Would that help? It includes their bio, their friends, and everything they ever typed or clicked on.”
“You’re amazing. I don’t know whether to call you Vyper or Prixster. Sure, this’ll help a lot. At least for people who use Facebook.”
“I have Google, Twitter, and Amazon, too. They all sell marketing data. Most of their clients are not tight on security. I have been collecting it for a couple of years. All the data is in the computer room.” She pointed to the spare bedroom. “You can access it from your laptop.”
The possibilities made Niko’s head spin. Nearly everyone who went on the internet used Google or Facebook—or both. And everything was recorded—from their first naïve years online. The amount of data available was mind-boggling.
For the last two weeks, Niko had been digging for clues to identify Zatan, but he came up with very little. He’d been doing this the hard way. Everything he learned was recorded on the
one-page document displayed on his screen.
Niko turned his laptop toward Vyper. “I think this hacker works in the Siberian ‘research firm’ financed by Sokolov. How much can you find on him?”
Vyper tapped away on her keyboard, then shook her head. She typed some more. Finally, her fingers stopped, and she turned the screen so Niko could see it. “I can only find his Google searches—all originating from the dark net. The oldest one is from four months ago.”
“Amazing.” Niko hadn’t expected to find anything on the mysterious hacker. “I’m sure there’s a lot more information on normal people. Most of them pay no attention to security issues, but Zatan does.” He scanned through the report. “Interesting. Even these few searches tell me something about him. This hacker probably created the Zatan persona four months ago. The problem is, even though he speaks English, I’m sure he spends more time on Russian sites.”
“Like Yandex and mail.ru? I have those, too, although I do not speak the language. Marko requested it.”
Niko scooted closer to her. “Marko thought of everything. Since I know Russian, we can do a search.”
Vyper typed something into her computer. “I will show you how to search the databases.” The TV on the wall turned black, ending the network news program. The image of a computer screen appeared on the right side of the TV. “Each side is set up as a remote display. Project your laptop to the left side.”
Niko located the settings and selected it. Now his screen was projected on the left, with Vyper’s on the right. Following her directions, Niko ran the Russian search tool. The same program appeared on Vyper’s side of the TV, except everything was translated to English.
Her mouse pointer moved to an empty box. “Here’s where you enter Zatan. I have no idea how to do that with Cyrillic letters.”
He typed “Затан” and hit ENTER. A few seconds later, a report filled his screen—much more than the meager list of Google searches from the English database. It appeared to go back only four months, but it still represented a wealth of information about the mysterious hacker.
“I could spend days going through everything here.” Niko scanned through the sections of the report. “We’re still missing a lot. This guy must spend most of his time on the dark web—hacker stuff, black market … well, you know. I don’t suppose it shows up here.”
“No dark websites.”
“Okay, I think there’s enough here to develop a detailed psychological profile on him. If I learn enough, I’ll be able to con him into doing anything we want. Well, not quite anything—but I could get him to share information, maybe even trust your software.”
“You mentioned profiles,” said Vyper. “There are computer models that do the work for you.” Her screen changed to a list of files. “The one on the top is supposed to be really effective. It was used to micro-target voters with political ads—our election, Brexit, some others.”
Niko felt like he was drinking from a fire hose. “That model will create the psychological profile I need?”
“They call it psychographic. It is not my area of expertise. You understand people better than I do.”
He couldn’t believe the wealth of data and tools at his disposal. “I’ve got my work cut out for me, but you certainly made it easier.”
“If you learn the names of associates, or if you discover any of his previous internet identities, you should search for them as well.” Vyper started to rock. “We have to get to Sokolov. Stop him. Ruin him.”
Niko took her hand. “We’re going to get this guy. He’s going to pay for Marko’s death.”
Vyper’s eyes began to water.
“What’s wrong? … Are you okay?”
She wiped her eyes. “I miss Marko. Especially tonight.”
“What did you and Marko do on Christmas Eve?”
“We played video games.” She wiped away a tear and smiled. “I always won.”
“You got video games? I’m pretty good. Know why I chose the name Niko?”
“Of course—Grand Theft Auto. You think you are good? You will learn why I am called Vyper.”
Zatan
Chapter 13
Niko sat next to Vyper, studying his computer screen. “Here’s a job I could do. They’re looking for a programmer. It’s contract work, all online. No need to go to an office. I don’t think they’ll report my income to the IRS, either.”
“Why are you looking for employment?” Vyper set her laptop down. “Taking down Sokolov is a full-time job.”
“I’ve been living in your home for nearly two months, eating your food, and spending money from Marko’s bank card. It’s not fair to you, and the bank card won’t supply cash forever.”
“I do not understand,” said Vyper. “I told you, money is not a problem. I manage the cash Marko kept off the books. Most of it came from Sokolov. The bank card will not run out.”
“You manage his money?” Niko walked to the kitchen. “That doesn’t matter, I still need a job. I can’t put a deposit down on an apartment using cash from a bank card.” He grabbed the bread, lunch meat, and a paper plate.
Vyper stood and turned to him. Her head moved slowly back and forth. “An apartment? Why leave?” She pressed her hand against her cheek. “We work well together.”
“I don’t want to impose any more than I already have. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
She came closer. “I want you to stay.” Her hazel eyes began to water. “Please don’t go.”
Sadness and desire gripped Niko. He set his plate down and gently rested his hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to embrace her. “I won’t leave you. I—”
Vyper reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed her head against his chest and squeezed him close. “I am glad.”
For a second, surprise froze him in place. Then his hands met at the small of her back and he pulled her close. Her hair had a faint scent of coconuts. Her soft breasts pressed against him.
Niko stroked her hair and tucked a strand over her ear. He pressed their hips together so she could feel his arousal.
Almost immediately, Vyper released her hold and stepped back, an awkward smile on her face. “I will have a sandwich, too.”
Damn. I spooked her.
Niko moved to the kitchen table, blocking her view of the bulge in his pants.
Her eyes never left the plate while she made a sandwich.
“Are you sure you want me to stay?” asked Niko.
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed. Did you change your mind?”
“No. I just thought … uh … we held each other … I didn’t mean—”
“We are friends. I needed a hug.” She grabbed her plate and headed to the couch. “I want to see the news.”
Niko sat next to her as the news anchor teased about an upcoming official briefing on the recent attacks at two government facilities. Then the show broke for a commercial.
He pointed to the TV. “That briefing’s going to be about the action centers. I think the FBI ran out of leads after they found the dead Russians in the car crash. They can blame them for Marko’s murder, but not the Cybercade attack.”
Vyper flipped her laptop open. “Marko’s killer and the driver—they shared an apartment. The FBI searched it, but they never told the public what they discovered.”
“Look at the TV. They’re showing what they found in the apartment. A drone, exactly like the ones that attacked the Action Center.”
On the screen, an FBI agent stood behind a table used to display evidence from the search. Vyper stared at the dark coil next to the drone. “Is that an explosive?”
“That’s the shaped I told you about. It blew a hole in the roof.”
The television briefing continued. A government official requested northern Virginia residents to call if they saw a similar drone or explosive material. When a reporter asked for information on the poisoning of Marko and Gato, officials repeated the statement that toxicology r
esults were not yet available.
Vyper tapped away at the keyboard. “An unnamed reliable source claims the police found digoxin in the apartment. It is made from digitalis.”
“That should make it clear, even to the FBI—they killed Marko. The media says nothing about Russian involvement despite my Trotsky messages. Are they blind or stupid? How much evidence do they need?”
Vyper turned her screen toward Niko. “I just received another tracker report from FANTAZIJA.COM. This is the third one—all from Vladivostok. Does the name look familiar?”
He nodded. It was one of the top Eastern European hackers Niko had identified. Each of them had disappeared from sight around five months ago and appeared online later with a new name. Vyper had used her magic to correlate the old names to the new ones.
But Zatan wasn’t on the list. He hadn’t visited FANTAZIJA.COM, or perhaps he avoided being infected by the tracker. Nevertheless, Vyper had discovered his former computer identity, one Niko remembered from his youth. Back then, the man who had become Zatan used his computer skills to manage the books for Falcon—aka Sokolov.
A smile appeared on Vyper’s face.
Niko knew why. “You cracked your way through more of the dark net, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “This guy connected to FANTAZIJA using two of the Onion routers I already control. He also accessed two routers I had not seen before, so I infected them.”
“Haven’t you spread your software across the entire dark net yet?”
Vyper giggled. “It is on twenty-five percent of the Onion Network. I only have a partial view of the network traffic.”
“You never cease to amaze me. No one else has penetrated it like you.”
“You are wrong. The NSA has been doing this for much longer than I have. They monitor most of the traffic on the dark net.”
“What?” Niko’s pulse raced. “The government knows what we’re doing? They know you’re breaking into financial records? They know where we are?”
She shook her head. “You realize everything about security is risky. Nothing is one hundred percent safe. But we take precautions—encryption, false identities, private networks. We make it hard for NSA to break through our defenses, but they can find us if they really want to.”