Rigged

by James Rosone

  “I’m not spoiled,” shot back their daughter, who had overheard her mom’s comment.

  “Eat your breakfast. It’s almost time to leave for the bus,” Seth answered, knowing better than to contradict his wife in front of his daughter.

  Sulking, Lily hurried as she finished off her eggs and grabbed one of the pieces of bacon. Then she got her stuff ready to head to the bus with her brother.

  Once she was out of the kitchen, Seth said, “Come on, Dana. You have to admit this place is so much better than our place back in McLean.” The kind of home they could afford in the D.C. area of Virginia had been much smaller and had a lot fewer bells and whistles. “Besides, your investment advisor said we needed to reinvest the money we made from selling that house back into a new home or we’d get hit with a big capital gains tax at the end of the year.”

  Lily reappeared. Seth kissed his daughter’s head before she headed off to the bus stop down at the end of their road. When she had left, Dana resumed their conversation.

  “Yeah, but we didn’t have to sink it into buying such a huge and overly expensive place in the middle of Tampa Bay. You know if a hurricane comes through here, we’re in a mandatory evacuation zone. This entire place could be wiped out from a storm surge. Did you think about that, Mr. Hotshot?” she asked coyly.

  She flipped on the morning news and put Lily’s plate and glass in the dishwasher after grabbing a few bites of her own breakfast.

  “Eh, this place was a steal at the price they had it listed,” Seth insisted. “Besides, what was it you were telling me about in that book you read, Framework for Understanding Poverty? Something about how you needed to place yourself in a different socio-economic circle if you want to move from one social tier to another? Living on Davis Island will do that for us and our kids. I thought you’d be happy that I’m taking what that book says seriously.”

  During the last three years, Seth had been stationed in northern Virginia, on loan from the DoD to the Agency. He had been gone almost continuously on short TDY rotations, which had not given him a lot of time with his family. It had really hurt his relationship with his kids since they were still little, and his work had unfortunately been turning him into an absentee father. That was a major reason he’d opted to make this his last tour in the Army and retire.

  Dana sighed as she turned to look at her husband. “I know,” she answered, “and I am glad that you’re paying attention to the book I had you read. I really am. I just don’t want our kids to grow up thinking that because we live in a rich neighborhood, we’re somehow rich. We just got lucky when we bought our home in McLean and sold it at the right time.”

  Dana’s brother was a realtor in the northern Virginia suburbs and had found them a real fixer-upper in need of a new owner. Seth had been dead set against buying it, since he’d known he wouldn’t have the time to fix it up. But Dana had seen the opportunity to turn the dilapidated property into a real gem and set to work herself. Eighteen months and nearly $60,000 later, they had turned the house into the envy of the neighborhood, and when they’d had to move, they had turned the $540,000 home into a one-million-dollar sale, netting them a solid profit.

  During one of Seth’s many TDY deployments, one of the CIA analysts he’d worked with had told him he should invest heavily in several companies that were doing some innovative work in AI. He even got in on an angel investor round with one of the Agency tech guys that had started his own firm after retiring from the Agency. Those investments had ended up making Seth a lot of money in a very short amount of time. The better Seth’s stock portfolio performed, the more secure he felt about his decision to retire from the Army after this last stint was done.

  Seth glanced at the news and decided it was time to change the subject. “Did you hear about the Google hack?” he asked.

  Dana nodded as she finished off her breakfast. “Yeah. I’m sure this will be a big deal when I get to work. You know we’ve been poaching a lot of their top tech people to work on our artificial intelligence trading platform.”

  “You were telling me about that the other day. You’ll have to tell me more about that trading platform one of these days,” he answered.

  “Seth, you know I can’t do that,” she shot back with a mischievous grin. Seth surmised that she might be plied into being more forthright later that evening with a bottle of Coup de Foudre cabernet sauvignon, her favorite wine.

  “I’ll be sure to grab a bottle of Coup on my way home from work this afternoon, then,” he said with a wink and a nod.

  “How come I end up telling you all about the secret programs I work on, and you never share any of yours? I still don’t know half of what you worked on while we were in McLean,” she responded.

  Seth sighed. Dana had been a trouper through most of his time in the Army, but the secrecy of his last assignment had really taken a toll on her. She’d never fully known how long he’d be gone, or when he might have to leave. That had really been hard on her, especially while managing their little ones. He was still paying the price for the birthdays and holidays he’d missed in their formative years.

  “One of these days, babe, I’ll tell you all about it. For right now, we’ll just have to leave it at that. Speaking of work—I need to get going or I’m going to be late.” Seth grabbed his beret and keys, then gave his wife a short kiss on the lips before adding, “I’ll see you tonight.”

  *******

  Twenty minutes later, Major Seth Mitchell pulled up to the Bayshore entrance of MacDill Air Force Base. The Air Force security forces airman waved his hand for him to pull forward. Seth quickly handed the senior airman his CAC card, making sure to look up at the young man as he held the card up and compared the face in the picture with Seth’s. The airman snapped a crisp salute and then handed his CAC back to him. Then he motioned for him to enter the base.

  Seth placed his CAC back into his lanyard along with his SOCOM security access badge and gave his Chevy Z71 crew cab a bit of gas as he moved along Bayshore Boulevard until he came to the split in the road. He guided the truck to the right onto Tampa Point Boulevard, which would lead him to the next entry control point for US Special Operations Command.

  At this time of day, the sun had finally risen enough that it had moved above the enormous phosphate mound that was directly across the bay at the Riverview Mosaic plant. As was usual for this time of the morning, Seth saw small clusters of military members along the rubberized running path that ran the eastern perimeter of the base, participating in their morning individual and group physical training exercises.

  When he arrived at the parking garage, Seth found a spot on the second floor. He grabbed the small cooler that contained the healthy lunch his wife had prepared for him and headed off to what he was sure would be a busy day.

  When he got to the northeast entrance, he turned his smartphone to silent and locked it in one of the many phone boxes outside the side entrance. No one was allowed to bring a phone or any electronic device into the building, so there were several walls of small metal boxes near the entrance to allow people who worked in the building a safe place to lock up their electronics so they could still access them without having to walk all the way back to their cars.

  As soon as he entered the ops center, Seth was flagged down by one of the junior captains. “Good morning, Major Mitchell. The boss said he wanted to see you as soon as you were in.”

  Nodding at the warning, Seth replied, “Thanks for the heads-up, Joel. I’ll head over there now.”

  First things first, though. I need my caffeine, he thought. He was grateful this ketogenic diet his wife had him trying didn’t mean he had to give up coffee. Sacrificing his morning Red Bull had almost been a deal breaker.

  A moment later, Seth had his coffee in hand and made his way over to his boss’s office. He knocked on the door frame, letting Colonel Pete Jennings know he was there. His boss was on the phone but quickly waved him in and pointed to the empty seat opposite his desk.

  �
��Yes, sir. We’ll get it on it right away.…No, sir. We should have something for you hopefully by midafternoon.…Yes, sir. We’ll brief you as soon as we know something.”

  Hanging up the phone, Colonel Jennings looked like a man on fire, and it was only 0700 hours. “You still in tight with your former colleagues in McLean?” Jennings asked.

  Seth nodded as he took a sip of coffee. “Yeah. I still have some contacts up there, though as you know, most of my contacts are probably no better than our reach back to JSOC,” he replied.

  “Hmm…maybe so, but try them anyway,” Jennings said. “This Google hack is apparently a bigger deal than what’s being reported in the media. That was the commander on the phone. He said there’s a COCOM secure video teleconference at 1300 hours to go over the specifics, but he wants to know as much as possible before the SVTC happens.”

  “So, a few emails got hacked—this kind of crap’s been going on for years. Why is this any different?” Seth said casually.

  Colonel Jennings snorted. “Because it’s not every day the President’s entire cabinet’s secured email system is hacked. The President’s own account was compromised. That’s why.”

  Seth’s left eyebrow rose cautiously. He put his coffee cup down on the edge of his boss’s desk. “Yeah, I suppose this is a new turn of events. On the news it sounded like this was limited to Google’s Gmail system. How did the hackers break into the White House’s system? Do we have any clues as to who is responsible for this yet?”

  Jennings shook his head. “I’m sure the NSA or Cyber Command has an idea. What the general wants to know is not just who is responsible, but if possible, where they’re located and what potential assets we have nearby.”

  Seth nodded and picked his coffee cup back up. “OK, I see what you’re looking for. I’ll make a few calls, see what I might be able to dig up and get back to you shortly.”

  Seth headed back to his cubicle along the outer wall of the room. His group, the J2X, was responsible for providing intelligence and communications support to a variety of clandestine operations that SOCOM had running all over the world. Seth’s more exact job description had to do with the cyber and sensitive site exploitation side of things. Given that he had just spent the last three years on loan to the CIA’s Special Activities Division, he had a plethora of experience hunting down hackers and leveraging data to create real-world capture missions. The US government had recently taken a much more hands-on approach to the massive increase in cyber-attacks across the country, and that gave Seth a lot more power.

  A few hours later, Seth had finished making more than a dozen phone calls from his Rolodex, and he had finally found the information he was looking for. The initial traces of the hack were pointing to an Albanian hacker group that largely operated out of Kosovo, Albania, and Macedonia. While their electronic fingerprints were all over the Gmail hack, the hacker tools used to gain entry into the White House systems had the fingerprints of China. They had narrowed it down to China’s Strategic Support Force, and more specifically the shadowy People’s Liberation Army Unit 61398, their elite cyber-hacking unit, which had previously been identified by both Mandiant and FireEye as one of the leading global perpetrators of cyber-hacking.

  Knowing who had carried out the attack was important, but figuring out specifically what the hackers were after was probably even more critical. Thus far, the forensic analysts involved had not been able to successfully weed through the meaningless rabbit trails of information that the hackers had left to obscure their true intentions.

  Seth had been given a secured Agency port and access to the terabytes of data the hackers had access to, so he cleared his mind and began to think logically about what the hackers could have been after.

  What would be so valuable that the Chinese would be willing to take the political hit this will cause? he wondered. Going after the President and his cabinet members directly was definitely a gutsy move.

  *******

  Shanghai, China

  Zhou Gang, the Head of the Bank of China, looked at the reports on the table in front of him, both impressed that the intelligence service had actually been able to acquire them, and a bit concerned at the lengths they’d taken to get them. While he should have been shocked by their contents, or at least surprised, he had come to expect the unexpected when dealing with the American president.

  Jonathan Sachs, the forty-fifth American president, had proven to be an unpredictable and often combustible man to have to deal with. While Zhou respected the man’s tenacity and desire to do what was in the best interest of his own country, often what was in the best interest of America ran counter to China’s own designs for the future. The realization of Greater China was becoming greatly imperiled by this upstart.

  Lying before him on the table was an astute economic case being made by several senior Sachs administration officials for why the US government should move forward with labeling China a currency manipulator after the collapse of the most recent round of trade talks. Up until that point, Zhou’s policy of threatening a trade war at the mention of such an action had immediately caused the American presidents to back down. However, he could see from the information before him that President Sachs was not going to be intimidated by that tactic. In fact, he was pushing to call their bluff and create an actual trade war.

  Zhou knew that despite his previous declarations of China’s strength and willpower, a trade war would devastate his country’s economy. He also had the sneaking suspicion that if tens of millions of people lost their jobs, the president’s regime would not survive. If he wanted to hold on to the power he had so carefully worked to obtain, Zhou couldn’t allow the growing middle class of his nation to become grossly discontent.

  President Sachs may have his faults, but he does seem to have a decent idea of just how tenuous our position is, Zhou thought.

  If the Americans were really going to move forward with labeling the People’s Republic of China a currency manipulator and impose even stiffer tariffs on them, then more drastic measures would need to be taken. Zhou vowed to rapidly advance the 2049 plans that had been drafted up. China couldn’t wait thirty-one more years to dethrone America as the dominant superpower. The timeline was going to have to be accelerated.

  An aide walked up to Zhou, disturbing his thoughts. The man leaned down and quietly whispered, “Sir, the President should be arriving momentarily.”

  Zhou looked up and nodded. He could feel his heart begin to race—Chen was well-known to be hotheaded and volatile. He certainly hadn’t been kind to those who had displeased him in the past. Punishment by Chen usually involved far more than harsh words. The stakes were incredibly high.

  Zhou took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. Today, he should be in Chen’s good graces, and he couldn’t allow himself to display any weakness before his leader. He quickly gathered the reports before him into two separate piles: one containing the American president’s communications, and the other the data collected from the cabinet members.

  Several security members walked into Zhou’s office and began hastily roving about the room, ensuring it was secured. After a few moments, one of them lifted his hand to his mouth and whispered something to his fellow compatriots. A minute later, the leader of China walked in and headed right for Zhou.

  The Head of the Bank of China quickly moved around his desk to greet his leader. The two bowed slightly, as was their custom, and then exchanged a few pleasantries before they sat down to discuss the treasure trove of information they had just acquired.

  A beautiful woman walked in, carrying a tray with an ornate porcelain tea set. She quickly fixed them a cup of tea before leaving the pot and tray on the coffee table nearby in case either of them wanted more tea during their meeting.

  President Chen eagerly sipped his tea for a moment, breathing deeply as if he were having a spiritual experience. Then he set his teacup down and looked at Zhou with an expression that seemed to pierce his very soul. “China is under an eno
rmous amount of global scrutiny and pressure as a result of this most recent cyber-attack against the White House’s communications system,” he began. “Please tell me you were able to obtain the information you were looking for—this attack had better not have turned up nothing.”

  Zhou took a deep breath. If he had been wrong about the American government’s economic intentions, this intrusion would have unnecessarily cost China a lot of political clout. However, his assumptions had not been wrong. If anything, the intelligence before him showed that the situation was much more dire than previously predicted.

  Zhou confidently returned his leader’s stare. “Mr. President, I had warned that if we continued to push President Sachs too hard, if we didn’t make some economic concessions, he would use the power of his economy against us. Our hacker team was able to uncover a series of executive orders that Sachs plans to enact after their midterm elections on November sixth—orders that will go into effect almost immediately.”

  The President took another sip of the tea before him, almost as if he were absorbing the information along with the hot beverage he was imbibing. “So, what you’re saying is the American president is going to follow through on his threat of a trade war,” Chen said.

  Zhou shook his head. “No, Mr. President. He’s not just going to move forward with a trade war. He’s essentially declaring economic war on China,” he declared. “When the American Treasury Department officially labels us a currency manipulator, they’re going to hit all of our exports with a 45 percent tariff. It’s going to effectively cripple our economy.”

  “So, what’s our recourse?” Chen asked.

  “Sir, I had thought we could get around the tariffs by simply lowering the value of our currency against the dollar, thus negating the effects of the tariff, but from reading the drafted executive orders, it would appear the American Treasury Department has already taken that into effect. Essentially, each time I would lower the value of our currency to counter their move, the Americans would raise the tariff by an equal measure.”