by Terry Toler
Crymeariver was a ransomware attack that targeted computers running Microsoft windows operating system. They encrypted the data and held it ransom. Companies paid the ransom in bitcoins. We never knew the total number of computers affected, but it was estimated to be over two hundred thousand. I now knew the actual number. 249,756. I also knew that North Korea was behind it, something we always suspected but were never able to prove.
Until now.
Crying Shame must be a new ransomware attack. I had to warn Brad. All that mischief was happening right here in front of my eyes. Just gathering this intelligence was worth the risk I had taken to get in the building. Although it wouldn’t be worth anything if I didn’t get out of this alive.
I looked back over to the office. The conversation between Jethro and the supervisor was still going. I was tempted to bolt out of the building and go back to South Korea to report all of this to Brad. The next lines on the screen gave me even more pause.
American Financial
The Bank of South Korea
Jingo.
Apparently, The Judas Group was targeting all of them and had an entire line devoted to each one. No numbers were next to them. So far, they hadn’t succeeded, but it was only a matter of time. A few years before, American First Bank announced a massive data breach. More than a hundred million credit card applications were accessed by hackers.
Jingo, a mobile game producer, had 218 million user log-in credentials stolen. Apparently, The Judas Group was going after them again.
South Korea.
I knew they stole almost a billion dollars a year from Asian banking entities. Most of that happened in Pyongyang.
Pakistan came up on the screen.
Why were they targeting Pakistan?
I have to shut down this lab. It was one thing to sit in a computer lab in South Korea and talk about world-wide hacking. Another to be in the actual room. I had too many questions to bolt now. I had to get my hands on a computer.
My heart was flipping somersaults while my fingers were moving as if they were anxious to get a keyboard and start typing.
My CIA handler had cautioned me, saying, The hackers you’ll have with you always. A reference to what Jesus said about the poor.
That may be true, but I could make a big dent in these operations if I could gain access to a computer, and my interrogator could convince the supervisor to let me.
Anger reached a boiling point inside me. I didn’t know how long I could hold it back. These people were thieves. Plain and simple. Cyber bullies and thugs. I wanted to put a stop to them. People lost hard-earned money to them.
The thought of bringing it to its knees, was exhilarating. The CIA would give anything to have a man in this room.
And here I was. I somehow had to get my fingers on one of those keyboards.
Would I be able to?
That question was about to be answered.
The conversation was over.
Jethro and the supervisor left his office and were walking toward me. My whole body tensed. Combover guy must’ve sensed it as well as he turned his gun on me.
The main guy, the supervisor, had a smile on his face. Was that because he was about to have me killed or because he was happy to see me?
I’d soon learn my fate.
6
My interrogator and the Korean lab supervisor had finished their discussion, came out of his office, and were walking toward me. Combover stiffened and put his gun to my side. Fortunately, the safety was still on.
The nearest exit was on the other end of the room. I shifted my weight slightly to my right foot and rotated my body just enough for Combover man not to notice. With one motion, I could disable him, gain possession of his machine gun, and be out the exit door and into the woods before the downstairs guards could be notified.
I hope that’s not necessary.
When the supervisor extended his hand toward me, I breathed an imperceptible sigh of relief.
Until he mentioned his name.
Then it was all I could do to keep my mouth from flying open in disbelief.
“Hello, sir,” the man said. “My name is Soo Lee Tark. Most people call me Lee.”
I now saw the resemblance. He’d had extensive cosmetic surgery to change his appearance or I would’ve recognized him earlier. Tark was an alias. The man’s real name was Gi Man Pok, a fugitive on the FBI’s ten most wanted list for cybercrimes against America and the world.
“Joe Hardy,” I said almost instinctively, as I took his hand and shook it, surprised at the firmness. I tried to process all of the ramifications of coming face to face with Pok.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” he said with a slight bow.
His eyes were dilated which were a sign of deception. He was clearly skeptical of me and my motives, which was understandable, but he was also trying to trick me into trusting him. I wondered if the dozen guards at the downstairs entrance were on their way as we spoke.
I decided to play along. With my hands together in front of me in the prayer position, I bowed slightly as well in an act of respect.
“Step into my office,” Pok said. The interrogator was sent away and Combover man followed us with instructions to wait outside the door as Pok closed it.
Going into his office was a tactical mistake if the guards were on their way. I’d be trapped in the office. My sense was that Pok would let this play out. He was obviously curious as to why I was there.
I was more curious about him. If that was even possible.
Several years ago, Pok went into hiding. No one in the CIA knew where he was. This whole mission was worth it just to gain that intelligence information. My handler would be pleased. If I lived long enough to tell him. The office had large windows facing out into the bullpen. I kept warily looking out to see if the guards were coming. There wasn’t much I could do if they were.
Pok was considered the best hacker in the world. He was the head of the Lazarus Group. A North Korean state-sponsored cyber hacking group that had wreaked havoc in financial markets. The group stole $571 million dollars from Asian financial markets last year alone.
The Judas Group must be operating out of another lab. That caused a change in my strategy. Offering him a million dollars would be meaningless. He could steal that in the time it took me to offer it to him.
I needed to play on his ego and his distinction as the best hacker in the world. A mantle I believed belonged to me.
Pok offered me a chair, which I took as I quickly surveyed the office. Not one paper was out of place. There were no personal items: family photos, mementos, books, or unnecessary clutter. One lone picture of the divine leader hung on the wall behind him. On his desk was an Apple desktop computer. A newer model but nothing fancy. Probably purchased in China by the government and issued to him. It would serve my purposes, if I were able to talk my way to the other side of the desk.
“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Hardy,” Pok said in a friendly manner.
“Please call me Joe,” I responded.
He nodded dutifully.
“Where did you go to school, Joe?” he asked.
I knew that Pok was trained at the Yang-so University in Pyongyang.
“Stanford,” I replied, which was the truth. Curly always taught us to keep our cover stories as close to the truth as possible.
His hand fiddled with the computer mouse. A nervous habit. Pok probably had ADHD as well.
“I know of Stanford,” Pok replied. “Is California where you grew up?”
“Why don’t we skip the chit chat?” I said abruptly.
“I like to know who I’m working with,” Pok retorted.
“All you need to know is that I’m the best hacker in the world.”
He let out a skeptical chuckle.
That was my new strategy. Create a competitive challenge. I was banking on him wanting to keep me alive long enough to prove he was better.
“How do I know you don’t work for the CIA?” Pok aske
d.
My turn to laugh.
“I did work for the CIA,” I said. “Now I’m a freelancer. I sell my services to the highest bidder.”
“Why would I need your services?”
That was a good question. Pok’s reputation was well known. He was behind the hack of Worldwide Pictures a decade before. At the time they called themselves the “Guardians of the World.” They leaked confidential information about executives of Worldwide including their salaries, damaging emails, and plans for future films.
Worldwide was specifically targeted. They had a film about to be released called The Guest, a comedy about a plot to assassinate Min Yang. The dictator was so outraged, he ordered the attack, although the government of North Korea denied all responsibility. Pok rose to notoriety by leading the group and executing the successful hack. The group employed a variant of the Sharnoon wiper malware and basically erased all of the company’s computer infrastructure. The film was never released in the theatres and cost the company millions of dollars and unknown damage to its reputation from the leaked emails.
The group ultimately became known as The Lazarus Group. They were behind the Crymeariver ransomware crypto worm that targeted computers run by Microsoft Windows. They hijacked business computers and then demanded a ransom paid in Bitcoins. Many of the companies paid the ransom because it cost less than fixing the problem and being without their computers until it could be fixed.
The Lazarus Group became more sophisticated in their attacks every year. In reality, they were already successful and didn’t need my services.
“Why do I need your services?” Pok asked me again when I didn’t answer right away.
“You don’t,” I finally answered.
That response took him by surprise as his eyebrows suddenly raised.
“I don’t need you, either,” I added.
He still didn’t respond.
I took the most direct approach. “Now that we understand each other, let’s get down to business. I’m offering you my services. You don’t have anyone in this building as good as me.”
He put his hand to his face and was thinking. This was probably not how he expected the conversation to go. Curly always said to do the unexpected. Keep your adversary off balance.
“You never worked for the CIA,” Pok eventually said, breaking the awkward silence.
I rolled my eyes.
“Give me a computer, and I’ll show you what I can do,” I said.
Pok typed something into the computer.
“I have a list of every CIA agent. Your name’s not on it.”
I knew that wasn’t true. There’d been rumors that North Korea had hacked into the CIA computers, but there was no evidence of that. I also knew there was no place with one list, for this very reason. But I decided to play along.
“Do you think I’d use my real name? You didn’t, Mr. Pok.”
That caught him by surprise. A look of anger flashed across his face as his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. I’d hit a nerve. I knew his real identity, but he didn’t know mine, which gave me an advantage.
Pok typed something else into his computer. About a minute later, he turned the computer toward me. “Hack into this email,” he said, as he slid the wireless keyboard and mouse my way.
“May I use my own network analyzer?” I asked.
“Be my guest,” he said.
He had locked me out of access to his main computer network. The first thing I did was unlock it. The screen was not facing him, so he had no idea what I was doing. He’d find it, but it would take several days.
In less than a minute, I was in the emails. I turned the screen back toward him.
He stared at the screen for several long seconds. His mouth was slightly opened in amazement, even though he tried hard not to give away that he was impressed. I’d be in awe of him and his abilities as well if they weren’t for nefarious purposes.
This was where I needed to exercise some self-control. I was competitive by nature. Part of me wanted to challenge him to unlock an email faster. That was the competitiveness from playing football all those years kicking in. I resisted the urge. I had bigger goals now.
“Very impressive,” he admitted.
“Like I said, I’m the best.”
I decided to throw a nuclear bomb into the conversation. “I want to work for the Lazarus Group. That’s why I’m here.”
No one knew if the Lazarus Group really existed. I didn’t know either, but I was highly suspicious.
His eyes gave away the truth.
Excitement pulsed through my veins. This was no ordinary cyber lab. They were not into petty, cybercrime and corporate malfeasance. This was where the Lazarus Group worked from. I was certain of it. This lab was the biggest threat to national security of any that had ever existed.
I have to get into their computers!
The Lazarus Group was believed to have been formed to hack into government nuclear programs. Their mission was to steal nuclear codes and take control of nuclear weapons.
North Korea’s motives were clear. The United States was threatening them. With less than a half a dozen nukes, the US could take Min Yang out of power in no time. Gaining surreptitious control of another country’s nuclear weapons by cyber espionage, gave Min Yang almost unlimited power to demand whatever he wanted from the world.
I maintained my steely stair as Pok fidgeted, giving me more tell-tale signs that he was hiding something and that I was on to him.
“Ahh, . . The Lazarus Group. Do you believe in unicorns as well, Mr. Hardy?” Pok asked sarcastically. He was definitely lying. His eyes flittered to the left. His head tilted, and his voice inflections changed.
“I’ll believe in one when I see it,” I replied, staring straight ahead, my eyes affixed to his.
And I’ve just seen one.
“I have a question for you, Mr. Pok.” I said.
He remained silent, probably not willing to admit his real identity even though the silence was just as telling.
“The Lazarus Group and The Judas Group. Why do you use biblical names?”
7
Iranian Embassy
Pyongyang, North Korea
Hamid Ahmadi, the Iranian Ambassador to North Korea, paced back and forth in his office. Amin Sadeghi, the Director of the MOIS, the Ministry of Intelligence and Security for the Islamic Republic of Iran was on the speaker phone.
Amin was demanding answers that Hamid didn’t have.
“I don’t know why Assad didn’t make the drop,” Hamid said nervously.
“Where is he?” Amin asked in an elevated voice.
“I don’t know,” Hamid said, using all his power to keep his voice from quivering.
“When did you last see him?” Amin asked more as an accusation than a question.
“This afternoon,” Hamid answered. “I gave him the papers in Wonsan. That’s the last I saw of him.”
The papers were in a satchel. They contained the nuclear codes and passwords to Pakistan’s nuclear weapons program. A North Korean cyber lab had hacked into Pakistan’s server and stolen them. With those codes, Iran could commandeer control of all of Pakistan’s weapons and launch them against targets in Israel and US bases in the middle east. Iran had promised North Korea several billion dollars for the information. A substantial down payment had already been made in exchange for the papers. The brilliance of the plan was that Pakistan would get the blame and the US retaliatory response. The whole scheme could never be tied back to Iran.
Now Assad and the papers were missing.
Assad was supposed to meet a contact in Wonsan early that evening and transfer the satchel. The contact would then smuggle it to Iran through Russia. Everything had gone according to plan until Assad didn’t show up for the drop.
Amin was in a panic. They had both tried Assad’s phone for several hours without a response.
“Do you trust him?” Amin asked.
“He’s your man,” Hamid countered, ris
king raising Amin’s ire even further.
“You’re in charge of the operation in North Korea. I’m thousands of miles away. I can’t control what happens on the ground. All you had to do was deliver the papers and make sure he got them to the contact.”
“Which I did. What happened afterward was beyond my control.”
Hamid silently cursed.
This was a disaster in the making. He wasn’t going to take the blame. Hamid paused to wait for Amin to voice an agreement, which never came.
“Assad has been an agent for years,” Hamid continued after sitting down, thinking that might calm his nerves. “It seems unlikely that he would steal the satchel and just disappear. He’d be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life. Plus, he’s loyal to the state and to Allah. It’s been years since we’ve had a traitor among us. There has to be another explanation.
“You’re right. He’s my best agent,” Amin said. “Why would Assad steal the codes? Who would he sell them to?”
Hamid poured himself a drink of water. His hand shook as he raised the glass to his mouth.
“I can go to Wonsan and look for him,” Hamid said, although he didn’t want to. It would be an hour and a half drive. He had dinner plans, which looked like they were about to be cancelled.
“Stay by your phone,” Amin said. “I don’t want you to risk missing a call from him.”
“Could it be the Americans?” Hamid asked shuddering at the thought and feeling the blood drain from his face.
“That’s always possible,” Amin said furtively. “We’ve taken every precaution on our end. Who knows about the damn Koreans! The infidels are always trying to tap into their communications. The General assured me there would not be a problem.”
“From their perspective, there wasn’t,” Hamid countered. “They’re going to insist this is not their problem. They delivered the codes. Once they were in our hands it’s our problem.”
“We must find Assad!” Amin said. Hamid could hear the desperation in his voice. Amin reporting to his superiors that they lost the codes was like Hamid having to break the news to Amin. It wouldn’t be pleasant.
“I don’t even know where to start looking,” Hamid said. “We’re just going to have to hope he turns up.”