The Codex File (2012)

by Miles Etherton

“We’ve hacked a hole through the UKCitizensNet firewall. We’ve never achieved that before. Their encryption is gigabit and cutting-edge.”

  “Does that mean we’ve got access to launch the app against Trevellion?” he asked, his own voice beginning to quiver.

  An image of Trevellion sitting behind his desk, expressionless, emotionless, guilty, filled his thoughts.

  “Give me time,” Green said with slight exasperation. “I’ve only just got through the firewall. We don’t even know Trevellion’s IP location. Or whether it’s running an active session at the moment. He may not even be there.”

  Michael finally moved from the spot he’d been frozen to since Green’s exclamation. Watching intently he moved alongside where the computer hacker was busily typing.

  “Find him,” he hissed sternly, watching the blur of Green typing at his keyboard.

  Green turned and looked at Michael, saw the hatred and conviction in his face, and returned to his task with renewed purpose.

  “OK, I’m into the personnel database” he said, scrolling through pages of data. “Let’s call up all staff with a surname starting with T.”

  The screen changed from unintelligible code to a directory listing of names Michael could understand. Green scrolled down the long list until he reached “Trevellion, V”.

  Feeling his heart miss a beat, Michael exhaled loudly as Green called up Trevellion’s record.

  “Got you, you bastard,” Green said finally, his eyes quickly scanning and appraising the data.

  At the very bottom of the personnel record were details of IP addresses assigned to Trevellion. Beneath the list was a button that read: Check current IP activity status’.

  Green quickly clicked on the button and the screen changed again. There were three IP addresses, all corresponding to different computers. The first two were inactive. The third had been active since just before 8am that morning.

  Michael looked at the other men as they watched expectantly as Green trawled through the data.

  “Can you lock down the physical location of the IP address?” Smith asked finally.

  “I’m coming to that,” replied Green, an air of annoyance in his voice that he might have overlooked this simple fact. “I just need to call up the network schematic to pinpoint the location”.

  Michael watched as the personnel database disappeared to be replaced by complex network diagrams identifying what appeared to be physical locations for the IP addresses overlaid on a schematic of a building. Green’s mouse cursor moved over Trevellion’s active IP address on the diagram before he clicked on the available link.

  “I’ve got him,” said Green as the screen changed again. “The IP address is currently registering an active session. Trevellion must be there.”

  The knot in Michael’s stomach tightened further. His moment of vengeance was near.

  “Well, let’s release it then. What are we waiting for?”

  Even as the words were escaping from his mouth, Michael realised he didn’t exactly know how the group was planning on using the app. Or what it would do when it was launched.

  “Exactly how is this going to work? I want to know this is guaranteed to kill Trevellion,” he said finally as the four men all turned to face him.

  Green turned away from Michael’s probing gaze and looked at Brown.

  “This is your domain, my friend,” he said quietly looking back to the screen, morally uncomfortable with what was about to be proposed, although accepting its necessity.

  Brown licked his lips, dry from the excitement of their breakthrough.

  “As you know, everything technological is networked and as such has a unique IP address. Big companies such as SemComNet, which have a product to sell, have enormous R&D units with huge technological and chemical resources at their disposal. I propose we divert some of the more dangerous elements of their chemical resources through their sprinkler system into Trevellion’s office which we’ve identified thanks to his active IP address. “

  Michael briefly processed the implications of the suggestion.

  “So you’re going to gas him? Surely he’ll flee the office as soon as he smells gas?”

  A wry smile crossed Brown’s face as he ran his fingers across his lengthening stubble.

  “Yes, but as I said, everything at SemComNet is networked. Particularly their security system. This means they can lock down any area of the premises in an instance if they’re compromised. We simply lock down Trevellion’s office whilst the gas is deployed.”

  “What gas are you going to use?” Michael asked, the knot in his stomach loosening slightly as the prospect of vengeance rose.

  Brown shrugged.

  “It depends on what their R&D unit has in stock. But don’t worry. Smith here is also a qualified chemist for his sins. He’ll be able to devise a rather unpleasant cocktail for Trevellion.”

  Michael’s gaze moved from one man to the next. The excitement on their faces was all too evident as the prospect of their own individual revenge loomed. Was this the beginning of the end of UKCitizensNet and their isolation?

  As Green delved deeper into the UKCitizensNet system and nervous chatter filled the mobile home. But it was Smith who detected the slightest doubt on Jones’ face.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “We’ve been working towards this for months and you look as if you’re about to be given the last rites.”

  Jones exhaled loudly, running his fingers through his greasy unkempt hair.

  “Doesn’t this strike you as a bit too easy? We’ve been trying to find a way into UKCitizensNet for months. Then the moment we find some vulnerability we’ve suddenly got immediate access to Trevellion’s location and his IP activity status? Don’t you think SemComNet would have some form of counter measures if they detected a system break-in? We’ve seen nothing change in the system since we got in. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

  Green swiveled round in his chair, his face flushed with annoyance.

  “Does it not occur to you, my friend, that maybe our undetected access has something to do with my prowess for getting in unseen by their system?”

  Michael studied Green’s expression. Was he seeing genuine annoyance at the questioning of his skills? Or was it sheer desperation? A desire to believe he really had cracked it and could maybe end their enforced nightmare.

  Jones snorted his disdain at Green’s response.

  “I don’t like it. This seems like a trap.”

  Michael was in no doubt, surprising even himself with the force of his response.

  “Now you listen to me. By your own admission this is the biggest break you’ve had in months. If not at all. Are we really going to waste an opportunity and run the risk that you won’t hack into their system for another six months or a year? Trevellion is plugged into their network and we know where he is. What’s more we have the means to make him pay for what he’s put us all through.”

  Michael paused, composing himself as he felt his emotions threatening to take over. The image of Colette talking to him on screen swept across his mind.

  “This may be my only chance to avenge the man who killed my wife and daughter. Don’t deny me this opportunity. Without you, I can’t get to Trevellion and SemComNet. And I know you need this as much as me.”

  For a few long seconds the bickering between the four men stopped as they exchanged anxious glances. Was this the moment they’d been waiting for? Was this their chance of escape?

  “Fire up our secure FTP server,” Jones said finally, the previous doubt ebbing away from his expression as the excitement of the moment took over again.

  As the new screen whirred into life Michael turned to Brown as another thought struck him.

  “I realise I don’t know much about how all this stuff works, but if we can see where they are on the network, won’t they also be able to see us and pinpoint our location.”

  Brown turned away from the screen and pointed at another piece of hardware sat on a shel
f to his left. It was a narrow, tower-shaped box, about 12 inches high with a green LED which was permanently flickering. A cable led from the back into the melee of other cables that disappeared behind the console Green was still sitting at.

  “This is our IP scrambler,” Brown said, tapping the green flashing LED. “You see with the old internet if you knew what you were doing there was such a thing as ‘anonymous login’ and you could cloak your IP address or reroute it to a machine somewhere in Eastern Europe with a bit of skill. Unfortunately, in the brave new world of UKCitizensNet this is no longer possible, no-one is remotely anonymous anymore, and SemComNet have developed new techniques to prevent anonymous logins from what still exists of the old internet. But with this device we can churn out half a billion IP combinations a second to prevent any locking onto our network position. As you say, we don’t want SemComNet knowing where this transmission is coming from or any of our other activities. Don’t worry, they haven’t found us yet.”

  As Brown turned back to the screen Michael perched down on the desk next to Green.

  “So how long is this going to take?”

  Scratching his chin thoughtfully, Green scanned the data in front of him, gesturing at the screen.

  “I need to do some configuration of the app with the data we’ve just extracted from the UKCitizensNet database. But that’s only going to take a few minutes whilst I change some of the handler parameters. After that, we’re ready.”

  Green cast a glance at the secure FTP server which was now fully operational next to him.

  “Everything’s in place to finally get Trevellion and UKCitizensNet.”

  Vincent Trevellion glanced again at the digital clock on the wall opposite, the digits shining bright red. The time was 19.34 and the UKCitizensNet system had been open for 14 minutes.

  In front of where he stood were two of SemComNet’s most senior network security analysts. And trusted project confidants recruited by Sebastian Tate. The two men were anxiously surveying a bank of four monitors running diagnostic checks on the security status of UKCitizensNet. With the exception of Trevellion and Tate these were the trusted two charged with isolating the app should Michael Robertson and his accomplices launch an attack against the state network. Trevellion was in no doubt Michael would now want him dead after ANNA’s extreme provocation.

  But despite his conviction they were still waiting for something major to happen. In the world of network security 15 minutes was a lifetime. In that time competent hackers could unleash untold havoc.

  As the clock moved on to 19.35 Trevellion turned to the analysts, his mood worsening with every passing minute.

  “Update me damn it. What are those bastards up to?”

  The first analyst, a young man in his mid-twenties, slightly balding with a long ponytail to compensate and who lived for code, looked up, startled at Trevellion’s outburst. He was perspiring slightly, the hum of the computers in front of him drowned out by his fearsome boss.

  “We’ve got some noise and data exchange around the periphery of the network, so we know they’re active. We can also see they’ve accessed some of the file structure in the restricted area we opened up despite their best efforts to cloak their movements.”

  “What are they looking at?” Trevellion demanded impatiently.

  “Well, they don’t appear to be in the system anymore. But from what we can see they accessed personnel records and…”

  “Whose records?” Trevellion interrupted before the nervous analyst could finish.

  The analyst quickly typed in a number of commands.

  “Just the one, sir. Your record,” he replied, the sweat on his brow increasing as he feared Trevellion’s reaction.

  A thin smile crossed Trevellion’s face.

  “What else have they accessed?”

  “They downloaded the false network schematics files and blueprints for this building also,” the analyst replied hurriedly, scanning the screen. “I think they’re looking for you.”

  Trevellion didn’t reply. Turning away, he reached into his pocket for his mobile phone. Flipping the device open he called up Sebastian Tate’s number. Within a few seconds they were connected. Trevellion spoke first.

  “Everything is on course and proceeding as I expected. We’ve opened the door and they’re actively targeting me. We’re waiting for them to attack the network in earnest at which point we’ll isolate the app.”

  There was a brief pause before Tate replied. His tone was serious and official.

  “We’ve invested far too much money in this project to allow a bunch of militant hackers to destabilise our objectives. If we don’t have their app within 25 minutes I want you to close the window. Is that understood?”

  “Understood,” Trevellion replied curtly, flipping the mobile phone shut.

  Looking up at the clock it was 19.37. Eight minutes until their window closed.

  “The moment you detect any unusual activity, let me know,” he ordered.

  Both analysts nodded obediently before returning to their screens with renewed vigour.

  Trevellion wasn’t a man who had ever doubted his own convictions. But there was a certain irony about putting himself up as a target for the weapon he’d helped shape. The purpose of this device was stealth and, as Tate had pointed out, enormous time and effort had been invested in developing the app. The question remained whether the counter measures SemComNet had developed to prevent an attack against themselves would work in a hostile situation rather than the simulated tests that had been run. If they didn’t then…

  “Sir, I think I’ve found them,” the second analyst almost shouted as Trevellion stirred from his thoughts.

  Moving to where the analyst sat Trevellion studied the screen in front of him.

  “We’ve got adverse network traffic coming in on the hub we’ve opened,” the analyst continued, his fingers typing a blur of commands into his tablet computer.

  “Do not forget,” Trevellion said firmly, “there are two objectives here: isolating the app and locating their IP address”.

  The analysts didn’t look up from their screens as they scanned the network activity.

  “OK, something’s inside the network” the second analyst said, his head bobbing from side to side. “I’m trying to lock onto its exact position to isolate its IP address.”

  “Level 1 counter measures have been launched to disrupt their deployment handlers and mask our IP address,” the first analyst blurted out, sweat patches under his arms increasing.

  “Have you identified their IP address yet?” Trevellion barked, his gaze flitting from one screen to the next.

  The second analyst who was looking increasingly pale shook his head anxiously.

  “I can’t get a lock. They’re using some sort of IP scrambler too.”

  “Remind me again what I pay you for,” Trevellion uttered menacingly, looking up at the clock opposite.

  The time was 19.42.

  “You don’t have much time. So find them.”

  The second analyst turned back to his screen, casting a nervous glance at his colleague who was looking equally pale and stressed.

  The clock moved onto 19.43.

  A few moments later the second analyst sat bolt upright and began pointing manically at his screen.

  “I’ve got it. I’ve isolated their IP address.”

  “Well don’t just sit there congratulating yourself. Keep a record of it and help isolate the fucking app.”

  The first analyst looked to his colleague and pointed at one of the monitors before them.

  “Level 1 counter measures have failed, our IP address is exposed and the scrambler has been shut down. I’m launching level 2 and 3 counter measures to restore our firewall. I need you to track their progress whilst I lock down the exposed network hubs.”

  Without warning a loud thud echoed around the office.

  “What the fuck was that?” the second analyst whispered nervously.

  “It sounded like
the override on the security system and the doors being sealed,” his colleague replied looking away from his screen.

  “Keep your fucking focus and isolate the app,” Trevellion ordered, rushing to the office door.

  The analysts were correct. The office had been sealed.

  “It’s the app,” the first analyst said, his voice cracking a little. “They know where we are.”

  Trevellion quickly looked round the room for another possible exit. There were none. His gaze moved to the ceiling and to the sprinklers embedded in the ceiling panels. A bleak, fatal possibility crossed his mind.

  The clock moved onto 19.45.

  Removing the thought from his mind he turned back to the monitors, acutely aware his 25 minutes was up. Tate’s words echoed around his head. They had to isolate the app. It might provide the missing piece of the puzzle they were working round the clock to discover. But if he didn’t close the window the whole network could be compromised. The full power of the app, and whatever configuration Michael Robertson’s group had given it, would be unleashed on him here in this office.

  The clock moved onto 19.46.

  “Level 2 counter measures have failed,” the first analyst said hoarsely, panic beginning to well up. “It’s getting deeper into the area we opened up. It’s not going to be long before it downloads to our IP address location.”

  “What success are we having with Level 3 counter measures,” Trevellion asked, trying to remain calm himself.

  There was a pause as both analysts studied a new data stream as it appeared on the screen. The pause seemed endless as they all waited and studied the screen.

  “I think it’s slowing down,” replied the second analyst. “The counter measures are blocking it from moving between hubs. The remaining hubs should lock down in the next few seconds and block their access, stopping them in the system where they are”.

  He cast a glance at the monitor to his right and then pointed animatedly to the screen.

  “Look, the remaining hubs have locked down, blocking access.”

  Trevellion looked at the pale expressions of the men before him trying to determine what was happening.

  “Have we stopped it, and isolated it?” he said finally.