Kanu took his time settling into the chair on the other side of the overstuffed desk. He waited before speaking to make sure that Mukesh was looking at him.
‘Did the software I delivered last time have any problems?’ Kanu asked.
Mukesh looked at him with a gentle smile. ‘No problem at all. Sometimes I feel that if there were codes in our window shutters, you could break them open too! Kanu, you are bang on when it comes to computer cracks.’
‘Thanks, Mukesh. You can rely on me.’
‘Ahh … I have one more job for you.’ Mukesh pulled out a copy of a CD-ROM and placed it on the desk. ‘If you can help me crack the code for this software – it’s being sold in the market for 20,000 – I’ll earn nothing less than 5,000 per copy. Don’t worry, you will get a good share from it as well.’
‘Consider it done.’ Kanu nodded, not wanting to waste more time negotiating the deal. Mukesh leaned back in his chair, looking at the package on his desk.
‘How many days will it take?’
‘Five to six days, max.’
‘Great.’
‘Is there anything else –’
‘For now, this is what I need. Here’s the CD.’ Mukesh slid the CD-ROM towards Kanu. ‘Hold on,’ he said, rummaging through his cabinet, ‘I need to pay you for your last assignment. How much?’
‘Your call.’
‘Here, this is 10,000. Count it.’
‘We are not in the counting business, Mukesh,’ replied Kanu as he pocketed the money.
Kanu’s phone rang as he climbed on his bike. It was Bansi.
‘The police have raided our shop,’ his friend’s stricken voice came from the other side.
‘Bansi? Raid? What kind of …’ Kanu stopped mid-sentence. ‘Hello?’
‘They’re taking our CPUs and hard discs. Come quick,’ Bansi said.
‘How did they find us?’ His words came out harsh and urgent. He realized what he had said would upset Bansi further. ‘I mean, what did we do wrong?’ he added.
‘I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. Hurry.’
The line went dead.
Kanu kick-started his Yamaha and drove out of the compound in a fury.
As Kanu approached the café, he saw a police van and white motorbikes parked outside. Bloody hell! He studied the numbers on each license plate as he climbed off his bike.
When Kanu stepped inside, he saw a couple of uniformed policemen heading into the dimly-lit passage of the cyber café. They were quickly stacking computer CPUs and other equipment.
Kanu approached a policeman standing near the counter. ‘What did we do?’ he asked. ‘Why are you taking away all this?’
The badge pinned on the uniform of the policeman read, Parthik Patel. Parthik was a young man in his mid-twenties who seemed anxious to finish his work and return to his place of comfort.
‘You’re Kanu? The owner of this cyber café?’ Parthik asked.
‘Yes.’
‘We’ve come to pick you up. There is a complaint against you. We are taking your computers to scan through your documents. If you cooperate, we will let you go. We are not arresting you yet. You understand? Without evidence, we cannot arrest you. That depends on what we find.’
Kanu was steady, but his mind raced. What files did I leave on my computer? What do these cops know?
Bansi stood quietly behind Kanu, still unsure of the motive behind the raid. ‘What’s the charge?’
‘Blackmailing a girl and hacking her e-mail account.’
‘What?’ Kanu sputtered. ‘No! We would never do such a thing.’
Bansi intervened. ‘Listen, we are not into hacking. We make college projects. That’s all there is to it. There must be some mistake –’
‘There is a written complaint against you, Kanu,’ the policeman interrupted. ‘Consider this as an investigation. If you follow us, we’ll let you go. Do you understand?’
Kanu had no answer. He had often cracked open e-mails and gained unauthorized access, but the charge of blackmailing was wrong. He had never in his life blackmailed anyone. But he decided to remain silent.
The combing operation continued while Kanu was led into the waiting van.
At 2.20 p.m., the police van pulled up in front of the Gopalapuram police station in Secunderabad. It had a huge campus, spilling across the road to include a traffic control station on the other side.
Darshu Soni stood in front of the station, her phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. She had a notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. She seemed to be staring ahead at the police vehicles, as if studying the number plates. ‘Okay, listen, there is an interesting development here. I think they have picked up a guy with loads of computers. Looks like an interesting story. Keep an anchor space for my report.’ She signed off.
Darshu stood out among the crowd of tired-looking policemen. Her dark hair, pale skin and innocent good looks were a world away from the place she frequented to cover stories for her publication, the Deccan Courier.
Kanu stepped out of the van and trudged towards the police station, a few metres away from where Darshu stood.
A policeman escorted him. ‘Behave properly. Agree to whatever Bada Babu says,’ he muttered as he guided Kanu down the corridor to Bada Babu’s office.
While walking through the passage, Kanu paused near a large, open room and listened carefully. He thought he recognized the voice inside. Is that Pankaj?
For sure, Pankaj was having a conversation with someone in the room.
Kanu stared in anger. Did Pankaj plan this raid to get access to my computer? Bastard, he was offering me twenty grand. With ten grand, the best policeman can be bought.
The constable shoved Kanu from behind. ‘Keep moving!’ he said.
The station office was nothing more than an old wooden table, a couple of chairs and few folders stacked in a metal rack. Inside Bada Babu’s room, two men stood waiting. Kanu stood with them in silence.
‘You run the computer shop on Rezimental Street?’ Bada Babu asked.
‘Yes,’ said Kanu.
‘Look, we don’t have time for petty things like computer games, e-mail and all. There is a complaint against you in the Kachiguda station. Some girl says you’ve hacked her e-mail and blackmailed her.’
‘Girl? What girl? That’s not true.’
Bada Babu held out a copy of written complaint for Kanu to read. ‘Here, this complaint is filed by Rita. Do you know her?’
‘No, I don’t know anyone named Rita. This is a set-up. I am being framed!’
‘You can discuss that with the police sub-inspector in Kachiguda.’
‘But I’m innocent!’
‘Go to Kachiguda. They will tell you what to do.’
Outside the traffic control station, next to the Golden Jubilee tea joint, Darshu was talking to an old acquaintance, Parthik.
Parthik had been one of her most reliable sources. He filtered out unnecessary news, providing only information that made for a good story. He made his living around the edges by taking favours, mostly in cash. But for Darshu he was readily available at any time of the day.
‘We conducted the raid at the MNR Cyber Café to nab this guy, Kanu Vasukumar. He is a well-known hacker. We have called him for questioning based on the complaint filed by a girl called Rita. She reported that her e-mail account was hacked,’ Parthik informed.
‘You mean to say, this guy hacks into computers and steals their data and e-mail IDs?’ Darshu asked, furiously taking notes. ‘How many computers have you seized?’
‘Fifteen. He’s selling this information to someone, I am sure.’ Parthik watched the gorgeous scribbling on her pad with obvious interest.
Just then, they heard the ignition of a vehicle and the roar of an outdated van. A tall man and a uniformed constable were getting inside.
Shit! Are they leaving? She pulled out a digital camera from her handbag and pointed towards the oncoming vehicle, clicking till it was gone.
‘I don’t
think your camera got a shot of him,’ Parthik said.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be investigating it further.’
‘Why don’t you ask that man standing there? He knows more about computer crimes. The department hired him to look into what that other guy had.’
‘That man in blue T-shirt, orange hair?’ Darshu looked at the weird-looking guy.
‘Yes, the guy with orange hair. His name is Pankaj. He is helping us trace the stolen data,’ replied Parthik.
Darshu was halfway inside the station when she overheard the conversation between two middle-aged constables.
‘Our newly recruited lad is a good friend of this lovely reporter,’ said the first constable.
‘In our day there were not many lady reporters. Or I would have married a reporter too!’ replied the second with a big smile on his face.
The police station had never been the easiest place for a female journalist. Darshu ignored them and walked up to the man in the blue T-shirt.
‘Your name is Pankaj, right?’
‘Yeah,’ replied Pankaj.
‘I’m Darshu Soni from the Deccan Courier.’
‘We tried to contact the girl who lodged the complaint against you. What’s her name? Rita, I think,’ said the sub-inspector in charge of the Kachiguda police station. ‘Seems she’s not available on her cell. You can write a declaration stating that the charges against you are false and we will let you go.’
‘What exactly should I write?’ asked Kanu.
‘That you are not involved in computer theft. That you don’t indulge in hacking and e-mail stealing.’
‘To whom do I address the letter?’
‘DSP – Kachiguda,’ the policeman informed him. ‘Listen, I spoke to Bada Babu. You will receive your computer, hard disc and your other stuff from Gopalapuram station after they have verified you’re clean.’
‘There is nothing in our computers, believe me.’
‘I agree. Our team will search your computer files, but we still have to check. You understand?’ said the policeman.
By this time, Bansi was also in the Kachiguda station, along with a bunch of his friends. The police personnel in general openly exploited such situations to extract money from innocent victims. Two thousand rupees quickly changed hands and the case was settled.
That evening Darshu sat in front of her monochrome monitor, feeling swamped by the written notes collected from different sources. Instead of writing, she decided to browse the wire. Her story was unlikely to be followed by the newswire, but she wanted to read other stories for inspiration.
After a while, she logged back in, uncertain how to begin. She looked around. There were two other reporters in the editorial department, busy with their work. Otherwise, the room was empty.
Just then, a middle-aged man dressed in a dark suit, bristling with quiet authority, entered the room. Gaurav Rathod was the celebrity journalist and editor-in-chief of the newspaper. He was famous for his newsgathering and editorial gigs. The blurb at the bottom of his column never failed to remind readers that he was an award-winning journalist. ‘Ayesha told me that you are doing the anchor story?’
‘Evening, sir!’ Darshu turned to greet him. ‘An Internet café owner, a young guy, apparently turned rogue, driven by profit. He hacks into other people’s computers. The police rounded him up this afternoon.’
‘Great! Do you have any photos to go along with the copy?’
‘I clicked one. Doesn’t look very sharp.’ She extended her camera.
‘This should be okay,’ he said, squinting. ‘About 400 words.’
‘When do you want it?’
‘Whenever you are ready with it.’
‘I just came in to –’
‘Take your time! I’ll be here till 9.30.’ The editor walked into his glass cabin in one corner of the office.
At 9.00 p.m., Bansi and Kanu were at the Gopalapuram station to collect the CPUs and hard discs seized by the police. There were five CPUs stacked in one corner, while the rest of them were inside the room.
‘Should we call a taxi?’ asked Bansi.
‘How much did you pay the … policemen?’
‘Two thousand!’ Bansi paused a moment before adding, ‘I know who did this.’
‘Yeah, me too.’
‘Why would Pankaj keep playing such cheap tricks?’
‘We’ll discuss this later. We have to haul all of this back to the café.’ Kanu zoomed away on his Yamaha and in no time came back with an auto rickshaw. They stuffed their wares inside and were gone.
THREE
6 December 2006
P
ranjal Hazarika pushed opened the partially frosted glass door and stepped inside the sprawling office of Sathyamev Computer Services. He arrived early, as usual, to get a head start on the day. The one thing that he dreaded most of all was getting into an elevator with his boss.
The front office was deserted, except for two security guards, who doubled as the reception. As soon as Pranjal approached the newspaper stand, not far from the reception desk, both guards stood to attention to greet him.
Pranjal smiled and nodded. He was tall and lean, and wore formal trousers along with a full-sleeve shirt.
‘Is there a letter for me?’ he asked the security guards as he moved closer to the newspaper stand to pick up a copy of the Deccan Courier.
‘Yes, sir. It’s been delivered to your mail box,’ said the older guard.
Pranjal nodded and walked towards the waiting elevator.
The corporate headquarters of Sathyamev Computer Services in Madhapur had been a hallmark of the city’s emerging status as an information technology hub ever since the idea of Cyberabad Technopolis started taking shape in the early ’90s. Its glistening, twenty-storey building towered over all other constructions in the vicinity. The penthouse had a window with a 360-degree view of the lush, green twenty-acre campus. A rock garden, equipped with an amphitheatre, adorned the landscape in front of the building. Across the garden, a dome-shaped state-of-the-art Sathyamev Learning Centre added to the beauty. Large and small Sathyamev offices were scattered across Hyderabad and Secunderabad, but the HQ was the only one that housed the company’s famous penthouse office.
On reaching the eighteenth floor, Pranjal collected the newsletters and went straight to his cabin. As the chief information officer of Sathyamev, his routine included browsing through the closure reports and responding to the system-critical mail.
Pranjal studied the city supplement of the newspaper as he powered on his personal computer. An article on the front page caught his attention: Hackers on the prowl in Hyderabad. According to the article, a cyber café owner had compromised data of several top-notch companies … including Sathyamev. How could that be? Sathyamev files are with a hacker? Pranjal thought. This is a disaster.
He read the article again:
HACKERS ON THE PROWL IN HYDERABAD
[email protected]
Hyderabad: He lurks within the undefined boundaries of the Internet, exploiting the vulnerabilities of a connected world most of us could never understand or learn. Some call him a hacker; others call him a cracker or a punk. Whatever you call him, he’s the kind of person who revels in the glory of compromising computer data simply to prove a point or to get rich quick.
Meet twenty-two-year-old Kanu Vasukumar, who was called in for questioning at the Gopalapuram police station in Secunderabad. His crime: violation of cyber laws. Police files revealed he broke into a girl’s personal e-mail ID and allegedly blackmailed her into submission. According to a police source, following the raid they conducted at his MNR Cyber Café, located on Rezimental Street, incriminating data was recovered from his seized computer hard drive. This included vital customer data of companies such as Sunrise Pharma, Sathyamev Computers, and Tajraj Hotels.
With secrecy a vital part of his work, the hacker – who goes by the handle @DigitalGod – has also collated a huge database of pirated software. It is believed that he
sells this software to various vendors across the city.
‘People living in an online world often lead a double life,’ said Pankaj Kumar, an expert on online security. ‘They may look normal, but these kinds of people just like to set fire to establishments and watch them burn. That’s why they keep data of big companies. The idea is to humiliate them.’
With the rise in cyber attacks in the form of malware, Trojans and viruses, this incident has called into question the safety of our own online identities. ‘Most professional and high-level hacks are never detected,’ added Pankaj. ‘We have to build additional capabilities by installing antivirus programmes in our systems, re-encoding passwords every month and storing important files in backup drives.’
Pranjal stood up and paced the room. Despite the air conditioning, his forehead was beaded with sweat, and his hands perspired as he grabbed the receiver to call his assistant.
‘Did you see the paper?’ Pranjal paused to listen. ‘Okay, now tell me how far away is this Rezimental Street area from our office?’
Pranjal was beginning to recover from the initial shock of the article. ‘Get me the details of MNR Cyber Café at once. Clear up the server room and start securing backup files. Someone must have stolen our backup files.’ There was a moment of silence. ‘You don’t understand! We are in big trouble. Secure all your files. Report to me immediately. I will have to call HR and explain everything.’
Kanu was asleep when his cell phone buzzed. He answered it without even looking at the name displayed.
‘What is it?’ he mumbled.
‘Your name has appeared in the Deccan Courier,’ said the voice on the other end of the line.
‘Deccan Courier? Okay, I’ll check.’ He yawned, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
Darshu got up early. Over a cup of coffee, she opened the paper and scanned through the Deccan Courier supplement Hyderabad Courier, which carried her story. She read the byline – Darshu Soni. For some reason, bylines always made her feel happy about being in print journalism.
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