by Bobby Akart
“At this point, the pilots have probably reported a Mayday to the nearest air traffic control tower—either St. Louis or Louisville,” said Malvalaha. “Their flight training would dictate a simple procedure of turning off the autopilot and resuming control of the aircraft manually. Unfortunately for them, the Boeing Uninterruptible Autopilot system has built-in safeguards that prevent the pilots from overriding our controls.”
“What prevents NORAD or the FAA from taking over the operation of the plane via its satellite controls?” asked Lau.
“We’ve installed a version of the TeslaCrypt Ransomware onto the plane’s servers,” said Malvalaha. “This malware blocks access to the aircraft’s onboard computers by everybody until released by us. In the future, we’ll provide them a message with a monetary demand. Today, we’re just sending a message.”
Chapter 5
May 8, 2016
3:17 p.m.
NORAD—Air Defense Operations Center
Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Station, Colorado
“Sir, Wright Patterson has been notified of the situation,” said the technical sergeant who was manning the console tracking American Airlines Flight 129. “I have Lieutenant Colonel Darren Reynolds on the line, sir.”
Colonel Arnold pressed the remote transmit button for his headset. “Colonel Reynolds, this is Colonel James Arnold. Please stay on the line as we assess the situation.”
“Colonel Arnold, we have scrambled two F-16s. Time is running out. Once ADOC was notified, we ceased communications with the Indianapolis Air Traffic Control Center and turned comms over to you.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” said Arnold. “Sergeant, contact the aircraft.”
“American Airlines one-two-niner, United States Air Force Air Defense Operations Center. Over,” said the airman.
After a moment, the response came through the overhead speakers.
“Air Defense, this is Captain Randy Gray.”
“Captain Gray, this is Colonel Arnold. What steps have you taken to gain control of your aircraft?” asked Colonel Arnold.
“The most logical step is to turn off the plane’s autopilot,” said Gray. “But the autopilot is unresponsive. In fact, all of our controls are unresponsive. We’ve had no flight control for nearly seventeen minutes now.”
“Stand by, Captain Gray,” said Colonel Arnold.
He pointed to the sergeant to mute the conversation, waiting several seconds before addressing his team.
“If this 757 is outfitted with Boeing’s new autopilot system, why haven’t we simply taken control of the aircraft?”
“Malware has been inserted into the aircraft’s onboard server network, preventing any type of outside access,” said another airman. “Boeing technical support is working on a solution, but so far they have been unsuccessful.”
“Colonel Reynolds, what is the ETA on your F-16s?” asked Colonel Arnold.
Arnold took a deep breath during the pause and studied the global positioning of Flight 129. The plane would be over a desolate area of Eastern Kentucky in roughly ten minutes. He had to escalate this to USNorthCom. He was not going to sentence 237 passengers and crew to their death without further orders.
Chapter 6
May 8, 2016
3:23 p.m.
F-16 “Fighting Falcons”
180th Fighter Wing
24,000 Feet
Near Lexington, Kentucky
“Roger, Giant Killer, awaiting orders,” said Smash Seven, the lead F-16 pilot dispatched to intercept Flight 129. “We will maintain two four thousand at the four o’clock and eight o’clock positions.”
“Copy, Smash Seven,” said Smash Eleven, maintaining his position above the left rear of the 757 aircraft. “Smash Seven, switch to alternate frequency Charlie. Repeat, switch to alternate frequency Charlie.”
“Go ahead, Smash Eleven.”
“Are we going to shoot down a commercial airliner?” asked Smash Eleven.
“Certainly not what I had in mind when I woke up this morning,” said Smash Seven. “It must be hijacked.
“Look, they’re climbing. Return to primary frequency.”
“Switching,” said Smash Eleven.
“Giant Killer, Smash Seven. Aircraft appears to be in ascent. Repeat, aircraft is ascending. Now climbing to two four thousand,” said Smash Seven. “Now two eight thousand. Please advise.”
“Roger that, Smash Seven,” said Giant Killer. “Maintain present heading and adjust altitude to three six thousand.”
The F-16s rose in altitude to maintain a height advantage over the 757.
“Aircraft has leveled off at three three thousand. Heading has not changed,” said Smash Seven. “We have bull’s-eye on one-two-nine at three six thousand now. We are a half mile in trail.”
Chapter 7
May 8, 2016
3:23 p.m.
American Airlines Flight 129
20,000 Feet
Near Lexington, Kentucky
“Those are F-16s,” said Bird. “They’ve remained just behind us since they checked us out a few minutes ago.”
Gray was aware the military would not hesitate to shoot them down if the plane was hijacked. Although their altitude had leveled, no one knew whether the plane would fly directly into the Atlantic or nose-dive into Washington. The government would not take that chance. He suddenly felt the urge to call his wife.
“I’m going to call Betty,” said Gray.
At lower altitude, he might reach a cell tower. A second after pressing send on his phone, the plane began to climb. He initiated communications once again with the Indianapolis ZID.
“Indianapolis Center. American Airlines Flight one-two-niner. Aircraft has begun uncontrolled ascent,” said Gray.
Bird called out the altimeter readings. “Twenty-three thousand. Twenty-six thousand. Thirty thousand.”
“American Airlines one-two-niner, roger that. Are you able to gain control of your aircraft?”
“Negative.” Gray was sweating profusely.
They were running out of time.
“Where are the F-16s, Stacy?”
“I don’t have a visual. My guess is they’re a thousand feet above and behind us,” replied Bird.
“Captain Gray,” interrupted the voice of the Air Force colonel, “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. You have about two minutes to gain control of your aircraft before you enter populated areas and D.C. airspace. Homeland Security has established certain protocols in this type of situation.”
Gray and Bird exchanged glances. How could this be happening? I really want to talk to my wife.
“Colonel, I assure you that we have nothing to do with this,” pleaded Gray. “There has to be a solution. This airplane is acting normally, except for the controls. It must be a malfunction. You can’t shoot us down!”
“Randy, look!” exclaimed Bird, tapping the monitors for the onboard computer.
Gray immediately grabbed the controls, remembering that the autopilot was activated. He flipped the switch, and the plane responded to his touch. Flight 129 was his again!
“All stations, this is American Airlines one-two-niner. We have positive control of the flight. I say again, we have positive control of the flight!” said Gray.
As he and Captain Bird exchanged relieved looks, the monitor display changed:
Thank you for flying with Zero Day Gamers Airways.
Chapter 8
May 13, 2016
5:51 p.m.
Senate Chamber
North Wing of the United States Capitol
Washington, D.C.
Senator Abigail Morgan stopped to catch her breath and take a sip of water from an Aquafina bottle provided by Sen. Rand Paul. The Senate had been called the world’s greatest deliberative body since the mid-nineteenth century, but this marathon filibuster orchestrated by Abbie and her libertarian comrades in the Senate was more rumination than deliberation. As she gathered her thoughts, she soaked in the grandeur of the Senate chambe
r. For over one hundred and fifty years, great American orators made their case to the American people and their fellow senators in this hall. Flanked by the red Levanto pilasters and facing a large marble rostrum, the senator who had the floor was granted the opportunity to speak unimpeded. Abbie had the floor and the National Defense Authorization Act of 2017 was the topic du jour.
“Our objection to Section 1021 of the NDAA goes beyond the ability of the military to detain American citizens without the right to a civilian trial,” said Abbie. “We believe the House amendment, if adopted, specifically states that the NDAA will not deny the writ of habeas corpus or any other constitutional rights afforded any citizen of the United States.”
Abbie, along with Senators Paul, Cruz and Lee, had commandeered the Senate floor to lambaste the NDAA provisions on domestic surveillance, the militarization of police departments and, most importantly, the attempts of the act to gut the Second Amendment. It was not a filibuster, per se, by Abbie and her fellow senators. The Gang of Four, as these Senate libertarians had become known, were trying to draw attention to the provisions slipped into the act at the eleventh hour by Senate leadership with full support of the Minority and the President. The overreaching by the National Security Agency into domestic surveillance had been debated for years. This act took the assault on Americans’ civil liberties to new heights. Abbie continued.
“However, the proposed Senate amendments are being sold to the American people as a way to deal with insurrection within the United States,” said Abbie. “We all recognize that social unrest is on an unprecedented rise across the nation. Americans are distraught and rightly so. But the solution is not to pass draconian laws which take away our citizens’ civil liberties. Americans will not stand for being placed upon a domestic terror watch list simply because they stated an opinion on social media or perhaps purchased too many rounds of ammunition for their legally owned firearms.”
Cable news networks were enjoying the spectacle provided by Abbie and especially Senator Paul, who was the front runner for the Republican nomination for President. Most accused Senator Paul of claiming the spotlight to draw attention to himself and raise funds for his presidential candidacy. Abbie was accused of similar political grandstanding—seizing the opportunity to show her vice presidential bona fides. At best, their filibuster was self-aggrandizing. At worst, some critics said, it was an act of pure cynicism.
These criticisms were not without merit, but their objections reflected the abilities of those who’d mastered parliamentary arcana for a living. Senator Paul learned political maneuverings from his father—longtime Texas Congressman Ron Paul. Abbie learned from the master manipulator, her father—John Adams Morgan.
“The defense of the country requires that we have adequate intelligence to detect and to counter threats to domestic security,” said Abbie. “But this requirement must not take priority over maintaining the civil liberties of our citizens. Our Constitution and the Bill of Rights should not be suspended even during a time of war, much less during a difficult period of social unrest. Intelligence agencies that legitimately seek to preserve the security of our nation must be subject to transparency and oversight. Thus, we oppose our government’s use of secret classifications to create a so-called domestic terror watch list—an enemies list—based upon one’s free speech, political beliefs or purchases of firearm-related merchandise.”
Shortly after her election in 2010, Abbie learned senators had very powerful levers at their fingertips. At any moment, like this one, a senator could grind the chamber to a halt without any real accountability other than an admonishment from their leadership. Were this a real filibuster, the Gang of Four could have stopped the legislation dead in its tracks, but that would have a devastating impact on the nation’s security. Everyone knew that, including the Gang of Four. By occupying the Senate floor and speaking for hours on end with great political fanfare and the world watching via the cable news networks, attention could be drawn to these objectionable provisions with the hope that a public outcry might develop. It was an inherently attention-seeking tactic that had unsurprisingly effective results.
“I am an unapologetic supporter of the Second Amendment,” continued Abbie. “I accept the premise that the only legitimate use of force is in defense against aggression of one’s individual rights—life, liberty and justly owned property. While this right resides permanently with the individual, our First Amendment right of association allows us to be aided by any other individual or group without fear of being labeled an enemy combatant of our government.”
Abbie looked around the Senate floor and realized that she was virtually alone except for her comrades and a few tired, disinterested Senate staffers. But the cameras were always on and her words held profound meaning. This was not just about political posturing, although it was an ancillary benefit. Abbie spoke from the heart and was principled in her beliefs. For that reason, the words flowed easily.
“We affirm the individual right recognized by the Second Amendment to keep and bear arms and oppose the persecution of American citizens for exercising this right,” said Abbie. “The American people should be free to establish their own conditions regarding the ownership and use of firearms without fear of confiscation as this Act allows. We will continue to vehemently oppose all laws at any level of government restricting the ownership, manufacture and transfer of firearms or ammunition for any lawful purpose.”
From her right, Abbie saw Senator Cruz approach. Abbie admired Cruz for his shrewd initiative and spirited resourcefulness. He had the gumption to stand up for his principles and oppose even the most popular of Republican proposals. Over the last couple of years, Cruz grew more alienated within the GOP conference than ever, earning him the well-deserved designation firebrand.
“Well done, Abbie. Take a breather and let this long-winded Texan have a go at it,” said Senator Cruz, whispering to Abbie as he placed his hand over the microphone. “Just be aware, our sellout of a Senate Majority Leader is headed your way.”
Abbie knew the pontificating was coming to an end and the presence of the Senate Majority Leader on the Senate floor was evidence of the gavel from the bully pulpit being dropped on their Libertarian party of four.
“May I speak with you, Senator?” asked Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell from Kentucky. He gently led Abbie away from the prying eyes and ears of others. Like a protective sheepdog, Abbie’s chief of staff remained close by.
“Of course, sir,” said Abbie.
“Senator,” started McConnell, “I’m aware Senator Paul has a vested interest in ennobling Rand Paul just as high as his goal of thwarting the ability of our government to use lawful surveillance measures to protect the homeland. I am quite surprised, however, that you would join in this mockery of doing the people’s business.”
“Sir, I am very committed to the defeat of these objectionable provisions and late added amendments by the Senate Armed Services Committee,” said Abbie. “I objected when they were proposed in committee and I am continuing to object now. They are overreaching.”
“I admire your commitment to your cause,” said McConnell. “When I gave you high-valued assignments on the Emerging Threats and Capabilities subcommittee and on the Senate Intelligence Committee, I knew that you would bring a unique perspective. However, I need not remind you of the criticism I received from my caucus for placing a political independent such as yourself in these prized assignments.”
“Sir, I mean you no disrespect by advancing my arguments on the floor today,” said Abbie. “I feel strongly about these issues.”
“Well, no matter,” said McConnell. “I have reached an agreement with Senator Paul to bring this charade to an end. He will be allowed to bring a few amendments to the Senate floor for consideration together with a limited amount of time for more eloquent speeches. But then we will vote. The members of both houses are interested in winding this up in order to hit the campaign trail for summer recess. I am sure you have som
e campaigning to do as well, Senator.”
“Yes, sir, of course,” said Abbie. She could sense something was about to blindside her.
“Senator, I have spoken with your father,” said McConnell. He turned to Abbie’s chief of staff. “Young lady, I imagine you have a phone message for the senator.”
Abbie was handed a transcribed message from her father. She looked at her chief of staff, who nodded her head affirmatively. The note read—take the deal, see you Sunday. Senator McConnell was smiling at her. Abbie did not like her vote being sold.
“Senator, after the vote authorizing the NDAA, the President will be signing an Executive Order,” said McConnell. “In the interest of making the new Act budget-neutral, the President will be divesting certain lands determined to be a cost burden upon the taxpayers. The Department of the Interior has already made the arrangements. One such parcel is located in Massachusetts.”
“I am sorry, sir,” said Abbie, beginning to get the picture. “Which parcel are you referring to?”
“Senator, your father will explain the details to you,” said McConnell. “This will be a magnificent feather in your political cap. Use it wisely.”
“But, sir—” said Abbie.
“We’re done here,” said McConnell. Abbie was dismissed as she watched the Senate Majority Leader approach Senator Mike Lee from Utah. Abbie wondered what other feathers were being doled out to caps of the Gang of Four today.
Chapter 9
May 15, 2016
John Morgan Residence
39 Sears Road
Brookline, Massachusetts
Morgan milled around and cordially engaged in conversation with his guests. The executive committee of the Boston Brahmin met monthly, usually at his 73 Tremont office. After last month’s excitement as viewed from the Top of the Hub restaurant, Morgan thought a more relaxed atmosphere was appropriate. It was doubtful a race riot would break out on his pristine four-acre front lawn.