A Bob Marley tune came on the radio and Bill decided to nip out for a cigarette. The laidback atmosphere of the cafe wasn’t helping his restive mood. ‘Are you okay here, buddy? I’ll just pop out for a pack of cigarettes.’
‘Yes, I’ll be fine,’ Aazim said, waving him off.
Bill saw a convenience store down the road and strolled towards it, constantly on the lookout for anything unusual. The door buzzer announced his entry in the store and he lined up behind a customer being served at the counter, looking for his brand of cigarettes on a shelf behind the sales clerk. The buzzer went off again and a policeman entered. Bill maintained a straight posture and waited patiently for his turn to be served.
The policeman grabbed a water bottle from the drink fridge and stood next to Bill. The man glanced towards him and something registered on his face. His right hand slowly rose to meet his gun and Bill heard the sound of a holster click open. The customer in front completed her purchase and walked out, allowing Bill to step forward.
‘Can I help you, sir?’ asked the Indian clerk.
The officer had barely drawn his weapon when Bill executed a precise back-kick, digging his heel into the man’s solar plexus, causing him to collapse and drop his weapon. The force knocked the wind out of him, and with a roundhouse kick to the head he was knocked out cold. Bill drew his own weapon and pointed it at the sales clerk.
‘Put your hands up and keep away from the alarm switch.’
‘Don’t shoot, mister, please,’ the clerk stammered.
‘Do as I say and you won’t get hurt. Move away from the desk and place your hands behind your head.’
The clerk was scared out of his wits but followed Bill’s instructions. Bill took the policeman’s handcuffs and cuffed the clerk to a fridge door. He found PVC tape under the counter and bound the officer’s hands. He turned the window sign to ‘closed’, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and the tape, left money on the counter and walked out.
‘We’ve gotta go, Az!’ Bill said, rushing up to Aazim.
‘Okay, I’m nearly done.’ Aazim turned. ‘We’re in trouble, aren’t we?’
‘Something like that. Grab what you’ve got and let’s go.’
‘I found the report, I’ll just get the printout.’
The police sirens screamed past them as they drove away from the internet cafe. Bill turned onto the freeway and they were on their way to Ballarat.
‘What happened?’
‘A cop recognised me. Did you find anything on the Oracle password?’ He took out a cigarette and lit up to calm his nerves. Aazim threw him a look of disapproval so he opened a window as a compromise.
‘It’s pretty interesting how it works,’ Aazim said excitedly. ‘To make passwords secure they’re usually protected by hashing using a one-way algorithm, right?’
‘What?’
‘Password hashing. Think of it as a digital fingerprint. Let’s say you type in a piece of data and that data gets converted into a small number. The algorithm is a mathematical process that mixes up the number and turns it into that fingerprint. Understand?’
‘So the algorithm is like an encryption tool?’
‘Not really, encryption’s something that can be reversed, whereas this is one way only and when a password is hashed the hash is stored in a password table.’
‘Right.’
‘A one-way algorithm is used to calculate password hashes. I found internet newsgroups from a 1993 posting that described it in detail –’
‘Az.’ Bill’s frown told Aazim to get back on track. He was having a hard time following as it was.
‘After the algorithm got posted on the internet, guess what happened.’
‘Hackers got their hands on it and made a crack program?’
‘Something like that. Oracle always denied a password weakness in their software, so some of these crack programs are commercially available and others are free. I downloaded a couple on a disk from the cafe – one uses a Brute Force method and the other a Dictionary Attack.’
‘How do they work?’
‘To get the password we’ll need the hash value from the password table. Once we have it we can run it through the two programs and see which one comes up with a match first.’
‘How will you get the hash value?’
‘I’m still reading through it, but I know it’s stored in different locations on the system and there’s about five ways of accessing it. I’ll see which one’s easiest once I’m on the server. It all depends how much access, if any, I can get to the operating system. What I want to know is how we get access to the server. We can’t just walk in there, you know.’
‘That’s exactly what we’ll do. What time do the cleaners usually arrive and how long does it take them to finish?’
‘About five-thirty, from what I remember. It’s not a large building and remember, there’s only one security guard.’
‘Okay, we’ll move in at five-thirty and work on staying only two hours.’ Aazim could tell Bill was doing some hard thinking. ‘We go in after business hours when employees leave because we don’t want any of your colleagues recognising you. That gives us about two and a half hours,’ Bill said, looking at his watch.
‘Hang on a sec,’ Aazim said. ‘Are you proposing we go in as the cleaners? What happens when the real ones come? We don’t even have ID cards.’
‘Don’t worry about that, leave it to me. In the meantime let’s grab a feed. I don’t know about you but I’m starving.’
‘All right then.’ Aazim sighed. He was too hungry to push any further for an explanation. ‘I’ll need all the energy I can get.’
‘We’ll take off as soon as we’re done. On our way there, start thinking about the building layout. I need a fair idea of where and how many exits there are, how many floors, rooms and how the car park is laid out.’
‘What is it?’ Barry was in his office when one of his men interrupted.
‘Sir, we just received information from our field agents. They’ve arrested the Perth suspect.’
‘Good. I want a full report and media coverage on this.’ Barry was delighted. Sam’s envelope had contained documented information on Australian citizens who’d spent time in Afghan training camps and other locations deemed to be terrorist sites. Disillusioned from failed relationships and dismissed as social outcasts, they were more misfits of society than serious threats but they had all the right traits for a publicity arrest. That was all that mattered to Barry. It was just the beginning for him. Sam had promised him something even bigger: the location of the entire Brotherhood leadership. Such a breakthrough arrest would elevate him to the status of legend.
‘There’s something else, sir. A senior constable was assaulted in Melbourne’s west. He recognised the suspect as William McKane.’
‘What? When did this happen?’ Barry exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
‘An hour ago. It just came in. The constable attempted to arrest him in a suburban convenience store but McKane attacked him and fled.’
‘Was he with anyone?’
‘The report states he was by himself.’ The agent gave him the location of the assault.
Barry wondered what they were up to. ‘What else?’
‘There’s a credit card transaction under the name of Aazim Elkhoury. The purchase was made at the Click and Surf internet cafe.’
‘I want you to go down there and find out what they bought and who they spoke to. If they used a computer I want it taken apart. Find out exactly what they were doing on it, understand?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘And get me a map.’
‘A map?’
‘Yes a map, a fucking map of Melbourne. Can you manage that?’
The startled agent departed hastily from his office.
Bill and Aazim pulled over at a roadside restaurant. Smoke poured out of the chimney, carrying the smell of burnt meat. Inside they were greeted by screaming children and stressed parents. They opted for a quieter spot in the c
orner. A burly waitress took their order and soon after their meal arrived. It wasn’t the best food but to Aazim it tasted better than Jimmy’s breakfast. Aazim ordered a latte and they watched the afternoon news on the in-house TV.
The anchorman announced that a terrorist suspect had been arrested in Perth, and the accompanying footage showed a man being escorted to a van by heavily armed police.
We don’t yet have detailed information but a police spokesman has informed us the suspect in question has been arrested on terrorist charges. He allegedly stockpiled weapons planned for terrorist activities in populated areas around Perth and possibly other Australian cities. The Muslim convert had been being tracked by ASIO agents for some time and further arrests may follow.
Bill wondered whose sticky fingers were on this one.
‘A Muslim convert,’ Aazim scoffed. ‘They had to add that in as if it were a vital piece of information. As soon as he turned Muslim he became a terrorist.’ He grimaced with annoyance.
‘It’s another lost soul influenced by some clever people. He was probably brainwashed at some religious school in Pakistan.’
‘I don’t understand how someone can allow themselves to be so swept away like that.’
‘When did you realise there was something dodgy about Sam and that friend of yours?’ Bill asked.
‘I see your point. When Kareem was taken away by Sam’s men, I guess.’
‘So if it wasn’t for him you might’ve been on Sam’s team now.’
‘I felt part of something when I was with those people and I honestly understood their frustrations. I don’t know, I think just being there felt comforting. After my mother died my life came to a halt. It was devastating. I was lonely and full of anger. I missed her so much. Still do.’ Aazim’s face clouded at the memory of Sophia. ‘Rami was there for me when I was at my lowest. He mentioned a job opportunity and then he introduced me to Sam. Man, I really got sucked in.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. Sam’s a ruthless man. You were manipulated, but luckily you were smart enough to realise it.’
‘I just wonder what he had in mind for me. I mean, what skills have I got apart from IT?’
‘What skills did this guy have until he was sent to Afghan training camps?’ Bill pointed to the TV. ‘You’d be amazed what people are capable of when they’re in a different state of mind.’
Chapter 18
Situated around one hundred and five kilometres northwest of Melbourne, Ballarat was originally a stock station. Its name derived from local Aboriginal dialect meaning ‘resting place’. With the discovery of gold in the early 1850s the town flourished and at one time it was one of the wealthiest districts in the country. Prospectors travelled from all over the world to try their luck in the goldmines, the wealth of the township evident in the grandeur of its buildings and public spaces. As gold reserves dried up the town successfully morphed from a mining centre into a hub of engineering and manufacturing. In the age of technology many large companies specifically chose to situate their data centres in Ballarat due to its proximity to Melbourne and the city’s developed infrastructure.
Aazim and Bill arrived at the Aust Global Fund disaster recovery site just after five and parked well outside the car park entrance in the emergency lane of the main road where they had a good view of all cars coming and going. On their right was the entrance to the business estate and the building itself, which was fenced off with plenty of land between it and its closest neighbour. Straight ahead was the small town of Buninyong.
The building, which took up a large area of land to their left, was single storeyed, dull grey, and had no signage but plenty of surveillance cameras. In fact, there were cameras placed on every roof corner and the boom gates had a card scanner. From a bird’s eye view the complex looked like an E, just as Aazim had described it to Bill. The surrounding area contained other businesses that bore signs of company names, and beyond that, hills and farmland sprawled to meet the forest.
Aazim couldn’t recall much of the floor plan but he gave Bill enough information about the corridors, hallways and turns so that he could form a picture of it.
‘Now what?’ Aazim asked as they waited in the car.
‘Now we wait for the cleaners and use them to get inside.’
Aazim gave him a worried look. ‘What will you do with them?’
‘Trust me, okay? When they arrive you stay in the car.’ Bill waited for Aazim’s response and received a hesitant nod.
After a few minutes a small truck appeared in the distance. As it drew closer, Bill could make out two occupants and the company logo, which confirmed they were the company cleaners. He reached for the PVC tape and got out of the car. Standing in the middle of the street, he waved down the driver as the car approached.
‘Can I help you?’ the driver asked.
Bill walked casually to the window and pulled out his gun. ‘Place both hands on the steering wheel.’ He reached in, turned off the ignition and took out the driver’s key.
‘What’s going on?’ the man shrieked.
‘Don’t talk and keep your hands where I can see them. I want both of you to come out the same side.’ The cleaners froze, unsure whether he was having them on. ‘I said get out of the car!’ Bill yelled into the driver’s face, jolting him into action. He unlatched the back door of the van, instructing the cleaners to get in and take off their clothes.
Aazim had remained in the car as told, the sick feeling in his stomach returning. Bill signalled to him to get in the van. Fumbling with his notes and thermal imaging camera, he hurried to join Bill.
Using the cleaners’ security tag, Bill swiped the card reader and the boom gate’s long arm rose. He parked in a far corner of the parking lot and they got out, dressed in the cleaners’ blue overalls. Aazim wasn’t happy with Bill’s methods of persuasion but was glad no one had been hurt and he hadn’t had to get involved. The tags gave them access to all areas except for the data room that contained AccountClass01Bak backup server. If they wanted to go in there, they’d need to be accompanied by a security guard. And only one cleaner at a time was allowed access.
‘Remember, stay calm and stick to what we planned, okay?’ Bill whispered to Aazim as they walked past the security desk. Carrying buckets, mops and other cleaning equipment, they drew no attention from employees finishing their work day.
‘Hey!’ the security guard called out.
Aazim’s heart was in his throat. He and Bill stopped and turned.
‘Who are you guys? Where are John and Vinh?’
‘Alex and Andrew.’ Bill waved the security tag, covering the face and name with his thumb. ‘We swapped for this week, mate. They’re doing head office.’
‘You have to sign in when you start your shift, you guys should know that.’ The guard looked annoyed and tapped the clipboard.
‘Yeah, sorry about that, it’s not our usual run, a shift change from head office.’
They signed in their fake names and walked through. Aazim led the way via a maze of corridors until he reached a door labelled Cleaning Equipment. He opened it and wheeled out a trolley, and they continued deeper inside the building. They reached two doors: the first was labelled Data Room but the second didn’t display any signs.
‘This is it.’ Aazim pointed to the second, solid-looking door.
Bill wheeled the trolley opposite the door and out of camera view. He reached into one of the buckets and pulled out the thermal-imaging device that he’d concealed in rags. He turned the bucket upside down and placed it in the trolley, situating the camera on top of it. After some careful adjustments he pointed it directly at the keypad. He switched it on and made sure the crosshair on the display was centred on the keys.
‘Okay, Az, it’s set.’
‘Right.’
Bill took a mop and walked through the hallway back to reception. He approached the security guard and asked if he could clean the room where the accounts server was.
‘Wait here.
Greg, can you come to the front?’ the guard said into a receiver.
Greg? Who was Greg? There was only supposed to be one guard.
A six-foot giant with a mean look, thick hands and a flattened nose, appeared from around the corner and walked towards Bill. He nodded.
‘Greg here will take you to the accounts room,’ said the first guard as he returned to the camera monitors.
Greg escorted Bill and no words were exchanged, which suited Bill fine. The large man was built like a brick, but his light tread told Bill he carried himself well, a trait common to boxers. They passed a room where Aazim was mopping the floor with his back turned. Greg was about to press the code in the keypad but had shifted his large frame in front of the imaging device.
Bill knocked over a bucket containing cleaning liquid, the contents spilling over the guard’s shoes. ‘Oh shit, sorry mate, I tripped over my own feet. I’m such a clumsy idiot.’
The guard jumped out of the way and gave him a frown that could have melted steel. Bill went back to the trolley and took out a ‘wet floor’ sign, placing it in the middle of the spill and effectively forcing the guard to move to one side to key in the code, in direct line with the camera.
Aazim stuck his head out from the room he was cleaning and saw the two disappear. He left the room and walked to the camera: imprints of the keys were clearly visible on the display screen. He pressed the pause button and froze the image, covered the device and went back to mopping floors.
Ten minutes later the door opened again. The guard seemed to be impatient to shut it behind him and get on his way.
‘Thanks, Greg.’ Bill waved to the man, who walked off without responding.
Aazim left his cleaning and joined him.
‘I thought there was only supposed to be one guard,’ Bill said.
‘I thought there was.’
‘Forget it. Did you get it?’
‘Yeah, I think it’s good.’
They went over to the trolley and picked up the device. Satisfied with the result, Bill handed it to Aazim.
THE BROTHERHOOD Page 14