“... and in other news, there was severe outage on the Internet today that cyber security experts blamed on a massive denial of service attack. The flood of packets seems to have been directed against a major Internet cloud infrastructure company. This caused outages for that company’s online bookstore as well as thousands of other businesses, including a major video streaming provider. The attack stopped suddenly two hours after it started. There is no word who is behind the attack.”
Mick’s stomach sank. He pulled up his mobile and read Slashdot on the attack. The article and the details in the reader comments confirmed for him that the Zed.Kicker botnet was responsible for the attack.
NØviz, what the hell are you doing?
“Why?” Mick asked Kateryna when she opened the hotel room door the next morning. She turned and walked back into the room with Mick following. They both sat where they were the previous night, but this time Kateryna was wearing pajamas.
“I’m sorry, I had no choice—” she began.
“There’s always a choice!”
“Look, do you want to hear my story or not?” she asked. Mick looked into her eyes, and nodded. “This all began before we even met. I was a broke grad student in Canada, trying to get to the end of my PhD. That’s when I met my husband-to-be. He had just finished his doctorate and was looking for a way to be able to stay in Canada. We came to an arrangement. We married, he got his visa and started freelancing, and I wasn’t evicted from my apartment. I had never planned to marry anyway, so I didn’t really care. We stayed acquaintances, just in case you were wondering…” She paused for a moment. Mick just stared at her. “It was only later that he told me that his real source of income was the FSB! I was furious at him! I told him I was moving out—he said we would get prosecuted for visa fraud. The authorities had been cracking down on marriage-of-convenience cases, so what he said made sense. I said I didn’t care. Then he said he would turn me in as an FSB agent. I felt trapped. I should have still left. I don’t know what would have happened, but it couldn’t have been worse than the past few years.
“My fake husband became my FSB handler. He had me change fields to security and planned to use me to infiltrate a security appliance company in the U.S., which I did.”
“How could you do this? What did you do for them?”
“I know you can’t imagine going along with this, but I’m not as strong as you are. I never did anything really useful for the FSB, which was why my life was hell for all those years. So many threats and so much intimidation. Sometimes, I dreamed of killing him in his sleep. Even prison would have been better. Then I met you and everything changed.”
“I see—finally you had a chance to do something worthwhile for your handlers.”
“It wasn’t like that! Again, I had no choice. I didn’t tell them about you until London. They got me the passport that you used—“
“And then you handed me over to them!”
“I didn’t! You have to believe me. They must have tracked me somehow. I was distraught when you were caught. I thought I’d never see you again. I learned where they were holding you and got ready in case a chance came along. When it did, I took it! They were furious at me!”
“So you expect me to believe that my ‘rescue’ was just you and not them?”
“Yes, only me. Mick, I… I—”
“Don’t say anything else. I need some time to process all this. I just can’t deal with it tonight. I’m out of here.”
He was pacing back and forth in the park when Jasinski walked up. He had pinged her on messaging a few minutes ago saying he had just met with Kateryna.
“So how is Queen Kat?” she asked with a smirk. He shot a glare back at her.
“It all true. She says her husband is her GTC handler,” he began, saying the next letter in sequence instead of FSB, just in case someone was listening in. “She admits the passport was fake, but says that she didn’t turn me over in Kiev. Oh, and get this—she claims that she got in trouble for helping me get away! Can you believe it?”
“I believe that’s what she told you. And it agrees with my re-search. I don’t know how to verify the details she provided.” she paused in thought. “Maybe we could find out more about her husband. Any idea where he was born?”
“Screw him! And screw your research! I can’t believe this!” he almost shouted.
“Calm down! This shouldn’t be a surprise—you came here to get confirmation, and now you have it. Yelling about it won’t change anything. Can I help if you have lousy taste in women?”
“So not funny,” he replied.
“I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
“Can I make a similar joke about you and NØviz? Is he as much of an idiot as he seems?” he countered. She paused and seemed to give this serious thought.
“I’m not sure. I still can’t really believe that he is going to do this. But I don’t know what I can possibly do to stop him.”
“Yesterday’s DDOS attack was a stupid stunt—everyone will be after him!”
“I know, I know. He didn’t understand why I didn’t congratulate him. Sometimes he acts like a kid.” she replied, shaking her head.
“You have to make him understand!” Mick replied, feeling his anger rising to another level.
“I have tried.”
“Have you tried everything?” he asked snidely.
“What are you trying to imply?”
“Sorry, I’m just really, really mad. Truthfully, how are things between you two?”
“Sometimes I think we are getting close, other times he seems a million kilometers away. But I have missed you, though.”
“Yeah, right!”
“No, truly,” Jasinski replied. “There is a straightforwardness about you that I miss. And there’s that smile, too…” This comment almost got Mick to smile, but he suppressed it.
“So what is our backup plan here? How do we stop him from turning the botnet over to the Chinese… or the Russians. Kill him?”
“Very funny. I don’t know. Maybe we have to choose the lesser of two evils,” he replied. When he saw the blank look in Jasinski’s face, he explained. “Maybe we ensure the botnet goes to the Americans instead of the Chinese or Russians.”
“There’s no way I’m turning him in to the General! I can’t believe you are suggesting that,” she replied. It was her turn to get angry.
“I don’t like it either, but do you have a better idea?”
“No. I think we just need to keep playing by ear. For now, I’d better get back. But I’m glad you pinged me. I knew this would be hard for you, but you need to get a grip and move on.” Mick did have a backup plan, but he couldn’t risk sharing it with Jasinski.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You know I’m right,” she replied.
I know.
“Oh, and your boyfriend hacked my mobile yesterday, then tried to set me up with the Americans, the Chinese, and the Russians!”
“Oh, crap!” Jasinski replied. Mick almost chuckled—she didn’t even question this ridiculous-sounding accusation. Or the ‘boyfriend’ remark.
How can I find humor in all this?
“Yeah, crap. Fortunately for me, the Chinese came first and they made a mess of things. Come to think of it, they might have been messaged first. Maybe he intended them to blunder in before the others.”
“Maybe. I don’t think he hates you…” she began, but Mick glared at her. “… too much.”
“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. I’m so sick of dealing with him. Just let me know if and when he sets up any meetings.”
“Sure, will do.” Jasinski sauntered away a few minutes later, leaving Mick alone in the dark again.
Mick needed a change of pace, so he went on a river cruise the next morning. He walked down to Wai Tan, the “outer bank” also known as The Bund area of Shanghai that ran along the Huangpu River. Early in the morning, the tourist crowds were lower than normal, but it was still buzzing with activity.
> At the furthest point on the cruise, he could just see the Yangtze River which lead to Hangzhou Bay, where he swam just a few days earlier. It felt like a very long time ago.
On the way back, he walked the length of the Bund to the steel bridge that spanned the Suzhou Creek, very close to its confluence with the Huangpu River. He noticed all the couples having their wedding photos taken at the bridge. A woman and her mother, who Mick had taken a picture for a few minutes earlier, stopped to talk to him again and explained to him the significance of the bridge.
It was known as the Waibaidu Bridge, which roughly means ‘outer free crossing’. It received this name because the previous bridge had been a toll bridge. That bridge, built by Westerners, charged a toll to both locals and Westerners. However, Westerners were allowed to pay on credit, which led to the perception that only locals had to pay toll. While essential for traversing the outer bank area of Shanghai, the locals despised the toll and the bridge. Later, the municipal council built a new free bridge just a few meters from the hated toll bridge. The current bridge, built in 19Ø8, was the largest steel bridge in Shanghai at the time.
Saying goodbye a second time to the women, Mick continued back to his hostel.
Mick realized he really wanted to see Lars. It would be so easy for him to go to the conference venue and find him in one of the cafés or restaurants nearby. But he resisted—it would put Lars at risk, and besides, he didn’t know how much he wanted to tell him. Lars, after all, had to interact with Kateryna on a regular basis, and he wasn’t such a great actor to be able to pretend that he didn’t know what he knew.
Too many secrets.
He later received an encrypted message from Chen saying that a package was waiting for him. He grinned to himself and arranged to meet Chen at a dock in a few hours. The backup plan had arrived.
“Seamus! How are things?” Chen called out to him as he approached, walking up from behind an old shed besides a rusting crane.
“Very well, and you?”
“Fine, fine. I’m sorry you had to leave the lab, but classes are back tomorrow, so you’d be moving out now anyway.”
“Don’t worry about it! It wasn’t your fault! I got done what I needed. And thanks for agreeing to be my point of contact here,” Mick replied.
“Sure, sure. But what is it?” Chen asked, clearly curious about the package.
“You don’t want to know! Hopefully I won’t have to use it, either.”
“OK, friend. And if anyone at RAPtOR can help, don’t hesitate to ask.”
The package was still in the crate, and showed various marks and scuffs from the ship. Mick hoped that his uncle had packed it carefully.
With the crate lid removed, he saw a waterproof injection plastic case. He opened it and read a handwritten note from his uncle:
I hope you know what you are doing with this. I wouldn’t use a battery larger than 12V.
Mick glanced over the components. He was pleased to see the size of the coil and the special low-inductance capacitors. His first thought was:
I wonder where I can get a 48V battery?
Chapter 28.
From the Privacy and Other Mirages Blog:
Is it safe to do voice and video chat on my web browser? Lots of sites offer that now, but I wonder about the privacy implications.
This is becoming very common these days, thanks to a new web standard called WebRTC. It is very easy for web developers to add voice and video to a site. I’ve even written a few myself. The APIs kind of suck, but the features work really well.
The privacy implications are pretty significant. For one thing, sites often use browser cookies to track you (see an earlier post on this). These cookies can be used to identify you and track you when you voice or video chat. Disabling cookies may or may not work--you’ll need to think about how much you trust the site and their privacy policies.
The other factor is whether your voice or video could be recorded or wiretapped and used against you. Most voice and video systems aren’t encrypted end-to-end to prevent wiretappers. The few that do will allow you to verify the security by checking a ‘short authentication string’ or verifying a ‘fingerprint’. My favorite ones use a protocol known as ZRTP.
There was a good post a while ago on the previous incarnation of this blog “Security and Other Lies” written by my predecessor about how ZRTP works to secure your voice and video--I’d recommend reading that.
And finally, remember that privacy for voice and video chat isn’t just about what you say, but who you talk to and when-—the so-called meta-data. See my earlier blog post on meta-data.
Chapter 29.
Ja2 Sometimes you find a #friend in the strangest place. #gowithit #thankful
That evening, Mick decided to attend a meet-up of a local chapter of RAPtOR. He had spotted one of the group’s notices the previous day in a place that had the best espresso he had tasted so far in Shanghai. The note was in Chinese, but “RAPtOR” was written in shaky letters at the top, most likely copied by someone who didn’t really know English.
There was one Hanzi character he did recognize on the sheet, which confirmed that he was guessing correctly. The character was 网, pronounced wǎng, meaning ‘net’ or ‘network’, as in ‘Internet’. The criss-cross pattern was evocative of a fishing net, or an interconnection. The word ‘network’ was first used in English in the middle ages to denote a repeating structure in nature. In the 19th century, it was used to reference a transportation system, and in the 2Øth century, a broadcast system. Its usage, and the shortened ‘net’ were used from the earliest days of the Internet when it was the ‘Internetwork’.
He grabbed a copy of the note, and after removing the “RAPtOR” reference, showed it to a bubbly girl at the counter at a tourism office. She translated the time and location for him, but seemed to have trouble translating one part.
“Does part of it not make sense?” he asked.
“Yes, it says something about bringing your own reptile or maybe lizard?” she said puzzled.
“Ah, that makes sense. It is a exotic pets group, so that makes complete sense.” he replied.
“Ah, pets. Sure. Do you have a pet?”
“Yes, I have a pet raptor.”
“Ah, very well, a pet laptor,” she replied, mangling the R.
“Well, thank you very much—shay-shay!” he said as he sauntered away.
At the meeting, Mick mainly looked at the code and screen shots projected on the wall—he couldn’t follow the speaking, but he understood some of the English technical terms. He knew they were discussing how to get around censorship using open-source software.
At the end of the meeting, one man came up to talk.
“Hello—did you enjoy the meeting?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you. I’ve never been to a RAPtOR meeting in China, so it was most interesting.”
“Ah, so you are familiar with our little group? You in the West have no idea how good you have it. They should try our so-called Internet sometime and see how they like it.”
“I know. The Internet is a precious thing. At one Internet conference I attended here in China, the group negotiated with the government and arranged to have a special Internet connection brought in via Hong Kong. For that week we had the only true Internet connection in the country!”
“Wow! I’m surprised they pulled that off—it wouldn’t have been easy.”
“Well, I’ll be moving off. Good luck to you and your countryman. By the way, you might check out the security conference in town—are you familiar with it?”
“Yes, one of the speakers mentioned it—he listed some bars and restaurants where participants have been going. I’m sure some will go and strike up conversations.”
“Excellent! Well, good bye!”
“Bye!”
The chance to think about someone else’s problems, even if just for a few minutes, was refreshing. He knew that things would come to a head very soon, and then everything would change
, one way or another. And he had some difficult decisions to make.
Mick peeked out from under his hat at the street scene in front of him. He had been surprised by a late night invitation from Jasinski to meet. The address she sent him turned out to be a bar called ‘Speak Softly’ which seemed odd. On the other hand, wasn’t everything associated with that woman a little odd?
Mick thought he had walked though the area in the daylight a day or two ago. It was one of the French Concession areas, so it was filled with small streets and stone and brick buildings. In the daytime, the area had a very friendly feel, and at night, not less so.
He had arrived an hour early, riding a taxi. He had argued with the driver for a few minutes, since the name on a sign out front said something different. He even went to the hotpot restaurant next door and showed them the address. They pointed next door and looked at him as if he were an idiot.
He had noticed a few groups of Chinese and Westerners arrive and go inside. He peeked in the window and couldn’t see them; nor did it look like a bar. He decided to wait. He watched a moped pull up and park on the sidewalk nearby, recognizing the long legs and the mop of pink hair that came out from under the helmet. He suppressed a smile—she always surprised him, and usually in a good way.
He followed her in about five minutes later but she was nowhere to be found in the odd looking room. He spoke to the nattily dressed man behind the counter and realized that the room was supposed to be a 193Øs shop, and the bar must be a speakeasy. Mick guessed the location of the secret entrance door, and he was escorted to a small room towards the back, passing a number of other small rooms.
“Hey,” she called out to him, putting down her drink as he entered.
“Hey.”
“I figured you were just moping around. This is an amazing city—you should have some fun while you are here!”
Returning to Zero (Mick O'Malley Series Book 2) Page 17