White-Hot Hack

by Tracey Garvis Graves

  “Okay,” she said softly as he wiped her tears. “Please don’t be upset with Rob. I know he blames himself, but it wasn’t his fault. I went where he couldn’t see me.”

  “I’m not upset with Rob. I’m glad he was there.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  When she hadn’t returned after ten minutes, he went looking for her. Maybe they could compromise so she wouldn’t have to quit entirely. The bathroom door was half-open, and Kate was standing in front of the sink, looking down with her back to him.

  “There are plenty of things you can still do from home. E-mail is just as effective for getting malware onto a target network. There’s phishing and spoofing, not to mention all the things you can do over the phone. And there may be other assignments we can do together. I’d be okay with that as long as I was with you.”

  She turned around, and there were tears on her cheeks again. Had she gone to the bathroom because she wasn’t done crying but didn’t want him to see? He was afraid she’d taken the news of her retirement even harder than he’d thought until she grabbed his hand and placed something in his palm. It was a pregnancy test, and there was no mistaking the result.

  “A baby?” he said.

  “I thought my shirt seemed a little tight in the chest when I put it on this morning, and I seem to be in the midst of some sort of hormonal shit storm, because I cannot stop crying to save my life. So I started thinking maybe I should pee on a stick while I was in here.”

  “A baby,” he said again. Kate was going to have a baby. His baby. Their baby.

  She appeared to be laughing and crying when she said, “I guess you knew how to make them after all.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Ian went into his office after breakfast. Charlie had been privy to an almost endless stream of the hacktivists’ online chats, but they’d failed to yield enough specific information to shed light on their agenda. They would assume the FBI was listening in and would therefore be cautious about the types of things they shared. Charlie felt certain that high-level members of the group were chatting on another channel, but so far he hadn’t been able to wrangle an invitation to join them. The task force had spent hours in their meetings analyzing the conversations in their possession, but whatever the hacktivists were planning remained just beyond their reach. They knew something was heading their way, but what?

  They’d theorized that the words dark and darkness that appeared in the first transcript Charlie shared with the group referenced a future denial of service attack. And while there had been a series of additional attacks on various websites, none of them had been particularly damaging. But lately Ian had been pondering a different outcome because when he combined dark and darkness with another word from the transcript, he thought they might be looking at a more literal interpretation.

  Dark and darkness and power.

  Dark and darkness and the power grid.

  At first he’d dismissed his hunch because he considered it too unlikely to be taken seriously, but he hadn’t put it out of his mind entirely and told himself there was no harm in gathering enough data to explore it further. He’d tracked down the person in charge of monitoring and collecting information regarding attacks on the power grid. The information was compiled daily and reports were issued quarterly. The last report, covering October through December, showed only slightly higher than normal activity, which seemed to disprove his theory. However, Ian didn’t want to wait another month for the next report at the end of March; he wanted to see if there had been any recent changes. He could have asked Phillip to approve a request to run the report a few weeks early, but that would take time and Ian had never been known for his patience.

  There were three major sectors of the power grid—the Eastern, Western, and Texas Interconnections, and they could be compromised in many different ways. The most alarming scenario would be an electromagnetic pulse, which would be the most devastating because it was one of the only things that could take down all three interconnections simultaneously.

  The grid was also vulnerable to physical threats like the sniper attack that had occurred on a substation in California, which had left parts of Silicon Valley in the dark. The unsolved case had been the most noteworthy attack on the grid by domestic terrorists to date.

  Lastly was the threat of a cyberattack. The power grid had been on the Cyber Action Team’s radar for years because it was probed hundreds of times per day by hackers around the globe in an attempt to unearth its vulnerabilities. However, large-scale attacks were thought to be unlikely because the power grid’s biggest vulnerabilities were also its strengths. Most regional utility companies were independently owned and weren’t required to use the same hardware or software, so sending the entire nation into darkness with one exploit would be nearly impossible. Hackers would need a multitude of custom hacks to connect the various networks, and not many would be willing to attempt such a massive undertaking. China and Russia had the patience and the financial capability, but even then they’d have to get past the numerous high-voltage interconnects whose specific purpose was to prevent widespread outages.

  Ian spent the next four hours hacking his way into the networks of some of the biggest power plants on the Eastern Interconnection. The number of probes left behind by hackers—tools whose sole purpose was to seek out vulnerabilities in the system—had skyrocketed in the past four weeks. At first Ian doubted his findings, but then he reached for his glasses and double-checked the numbers, comparing them to the last report. The spike in activity confirmed that his hunch might not have been so far-fetched after all.

  Still, it didn’t make sense that a group who resided primarily in the United States would do anything to jeopardize the power they themselves depended on.

  Unless the hacktivists wanted to cripple segmented parts of the infrastructure in order to make a point.

  Especially the areas of the grid that provided DC with its power.

  Ian picked up the phone and called Phillip.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The task force assembled quickly, and once everyone had filed into the conference room, Phillip explained the reason for the impromptu meeting. “I’m sorry to call you in on such short notice, but Ian has uncovered some information that points to a possible cyberattack on specific sections of the power grid.”

  Ian ran through what he’d found. “In the past thirty days, there was a significant increase in the number of remote probes on the grid. All of them had malware attached and were found in a concentrated area stretching from South Carolina to Maryland. I think they’re trying to take down all or part of the Eastern Interconnection, but so far they haven’t been able to compromise the grid on a large enough scale to do any damage.”

  “So they take down part of the grid and it stays down until we can bring systems back online?” Pete said.

  A look of unease appeared on their faces. The nation’s capital had experienced a fluke storm called a super derecho a few years back. The hurricane-force winds had knocked out power to five states along the Eastern Seaboard, and four days later, the area’s utility companies had managed to restore power to only two-thirds of its customers. Thousands of businesses were closed, 911 call centers could not respond to emergencies, and gas stations were unable to pump fuel. Many federal agencies in DC had no choice but to shut down temporarily. A targeted cyberattack had the ability to keep them in the dark for an indeterminable amount of time, with catastrophic consequences. Not only would there be devastating financial losses, but the safety of the population would be at risk almost immediately due to large-scale looting and crime.

  “Why would a group located in the US plan a potential domestic terrorist attack just to make a point? They’d be subjected to the same repercussions everyone else would encounter,” Tom asked, articulating what everyone was probably thinking. “That’s like setting off a giant bomb in the building you live in.”

  “Because if they’re the ones who cause the outage, there
’s nothing preventing them from relocating to an area that won’t be losing power,” Ian said. He shut his laptop. “It’s the ultimate act of civil disobedience and retaliation. We took away Joshua Morrison’s power. Now the members of his group are going to take away ours.”

  “Well, at least we know their agenda now,” Charlie said.

  “I’ve already notified the appropriate personnel and departments, and we’ll be convening immediately to determine a strategy and discuss disaster-recovery protocol. Once I know how we plan to proceed, I’ll let you know your roles.”

  Ian and Charlie left the building together.

  “What’s Kate up to today?”

  “She’s just hanging out at home.” The only thing Kate had been doing much of in the past few weeks was kneeling in front of the toilet and throwing up every single thing she tried to put in her stomach. She couldn’t handle anything sweet and subsisted mostly on saltine crackers. Kate loved her morning coffee, but even the smell of it brewing was enough to make her gag. Though she’d told him it wasn’t necessary, he’d given it up for the time being. She rarely complained, and the only evidence she needed more rest than usual was her desire for an earlier bedtime. She was about ten weeks along, which meant the baby had likely been conceived when they were in Costa Rica. Before he’d left the house to drive to headquarters, he’d gone looking for her and found her curled up on her side on the cold, hard tile of the bathroom floor, looking about as miserable as a person could look.

  “This is certainly one way to guarantee my retirement,” she said, lifting her arms weakly in the air to make quotes around the word retirement. “I’m too sick to leave the house.”

  “Can I tuck you back into bed?”

  “Sadly, I don’t think I’m done. Karma is paying me back for that time I pretended to have morning sickness. She is such a bitch.”

  He sat down next to her and stroked her head gently.

  “When are you leaving for headquarters?” she asked.

  “In a few minutes. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll probably still be right here on this floor when you get back.”

  Ian stopped walking when he and Charlie reached the parking lot. He’d likely only been making small talk when he asked about Kate, but Ian didn’t want to share anything about her with Charlie, and his suspicions prevented him from telling him their happy news, even though he would have liked to.

  “Someone hacked our security system.”

  “You sure it was hacked?”

  “Positive. I modified the existing system with additional safeguards when we moved into the house. Only a hacker would be able to penetrate it.” Ian let the words hang.

  Realization dawned on Charlie’s face. “Hold on a minute. You think it was me?”

  He kept his expression neutral. “I didn’t say that.”

  Charlie’s face fell. “Yeah, you did.”

  “She’s my wife.”

  “I know. You say that a lot. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to have one, you know.” After Charlie’s wife cheated on him, he hadn’t wanted to talk about it much—with Ian or anyone else.

  Charlie walked toward his car without a backward glance. Ian could have gone after him. He could have apologized and assured Charlie he didn’t think it was him. But he stood his ground. He had to. He knew better than anyone that manipulation was all part of the game. If Charlie had to lie to reach his goal, he’d look Ian right in the eye while saying the words. Ian would do the same, and for that matter, so would Kate.

  It didn’t stop him from feeling bad, and at that moment all he wanted was to get home and put his arms around his wife.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Ian’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, rousing him from sleep. At first he thought it might be Phillip or Charlie and that the hacktivists had been successful in attacking the power grid, but when he glanced at the screen he realized the call had come from Kyle, one of the guards working the overnight shift, and he shot out of bed.

  “What?” he said by way of greeting, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake Kate.

  “You better come out here. The camera picked up someone on the grounds. Rich came up from the gate, and we apprehended the guy and called the police. They’re on their way.”

  He threw on some clothes, and fifteen seconds later he flew through the door of the outbuilding. A man whose expression was somewhere between calculating and furious sat in a folding chair, making no attempt to get up. When Ian looked closer, he realized Kyle and Rich had zip-tied his wrists to the arms of the metal chair. The man had short brown hair, and Ian guessed his age as early thirties. He withdrew his phone and snapped several pictures of the intruder’s face.

  “What’s his name?” Ian asked Kyle.

  “He won’t say, and there’s no ID on him.”

  “Who are you?” Ian asked. The man remained silent, and rage like Ian had never felt before burst forth from him. “Who are you!” He kicked the leg of the chair hard enough to move it several inches. Still the man said nothing, and it was clear he wouldn’t be changing his mind anytime soon.

  Ian paced until the police arrived, gritting his teeth so hard it would take two days before his jaw stopped aching. Before they led the man away in handcuffs, Ian pulled the officer aside.

  “I want to know who he is, and I want him charged with anything you can charge him with.”

  The officer nodded. “Someone will be assigned to your case, and they’ll be in touch as soon as possible.”

  But Ian knew it could be twenty-four hours or more before they had any information for him, and he had no intention of waiting that long. Ian stared at the metal arms of the folding chair after they left. “I don’t suppose you know how to lift fingerprints?” he said to Kyle.

  “No. But I’ve got a friend who’s a retired detective. He owes me a favor. He can lift them for you, but he won’t be able to run anything through the database. He doesn’t have access anymore.”

  “If you get me the print, I can take it from there.” The FBI maintained the database, so access wouldn’t be a problem. Once Ian had the man’s name, there were places he could go to find out all kinds of information.

  “I want you and Rich to search the grounds in case there were two of them. Take turns patrolling the exterior of the house. Let me know when you have the print.”

  Kyle pulled out his phone. “I’ll call him right now and see if I can get him out here first thing in the morning.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Ian went back into the house. The pounding in his head had reached a fever pitch, so he stopped in the kitchen and rummaged in the drawer next to the sink for some Tylenol. He shook the pills into his hand and scooped up water from the faucet to wash them down. There was no denying a confrontation loomed on the horizon, perhaps in the not-so-distant future. In a way, he welcomed it because it meant taking a stand.

  A confrontation meant an outcome.

  It meant resolution.

  No more looking over their shoulders or waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Because this time he would find out what they wanted.

  Anything would be better than waiting and wondering if next time the intruder would somehow get past the guards and make it all the way into their home. Maybe when he wasn’t there and Kate was standing in the kitchen or taking a shower. The visual sucker punched him, and he had to take a few deep breaths to get his head on straight. The guilt weighed on him like a brick pressing down on his chest. He’d already stripped her of her autonomy in an effort to protect her. She couldn’t drive herself or go anywhere alone. He’d practically made her a prisoner in her own home, and now even that wasn’t secure.

  All because of him.

  “Ian?”

  He spun around because he was wound tighter than a spring and her voice had startled him.

  “What’s going on?” Sleepy-eyed with tousled hair, she wore only the shirt of her pajamas and it was un
buttoned all the way, exposing a sliver of each breast. He quickly crossed the room and started buttoning her up. There were just so many windows in the kitchen, and not all of them were covered by shades.

  She laid her hands on his arms. “Why are you up? Why are all the lights on?”

  “The guards caught someone on the property.” Saying the words out loud made their situation real, and there was no going back now that he’d uttered them. If it wasn’t already, the gravity of what they were facing would be that much clearer to Kate.

  Fear clouded her expression. “Where?”

  “Near the basement sliding door. It was a man. Early thirties. We think he was alone. Kyle and Rich detained him, and the police arrested him and took him away.” He dug his phone out of his front pocket and held it up to Kate. “Is this the hacker who came into the food pantry? The one who said his name was Zach Nielsen?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not him. I’ve never seen that man before.”

  None of her past bravado had been false. But any bravery she’d once felt crumbled away as tears filled her eyes. He put his arms around her and felt her tremble under his touch. He used to think letting Kate believe he was dead was the harshest thing he’d done to her, but involving her in this mess was worse.

  “Let’s get you back to bed.” He took her hand and led her to their bedroom, tucking her underneath the covers. “I’ll be right back. I want to make sure everything’s locked down tight.”

  The bedroom door closed with a soft click, and he stood in the hallway for a moment to get his bearings. His headache had dissipated slightly, but the pressure remained, making it feel as if his head were being squeezed in a vise. Silently he made the rounds of the house, checking every door, every window.