“Why would Porton help Basson?”
“Because he paid well. Remember, Porton was underfunded, certainly compared to other countries. Anyway, it created a bit of a stink. The MoD launched a witch hunt when Thatcher’s government were confronted with proof someone was leaking classified documents.”
“How did they find out?”
“MI5 raided Basson’s rented apartment. They found a motherload of classified documents, links to the British National Party, white supremacists in America, evidence of far-right sympathies.” Ephesus expected a reaction, but Zed’s face remained a mask. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“Nothing surprises me any more.” Zed stepped back taking in the scale of destruction. “You’re telling me there aren’t copies of these documents someplace else?”
“I doubt it, there might be an old microfiche record of the enquiry. We still have drawers full of those things from the Eighties. I can show you.”
“I don’t suppose you noticed any suspicious activity prior to the fire?”
“Not that I remember, but MacDonald might know more. Nothing in this place happens without him knowing. What are you thinking?”
“Well, Gill’s poisoning, the attack at St Mary’s, now this? That’s an awful lot of coincidences, wouldn’t you say? Someone seems prepared to go to incredible lengths to cover their tracks, to destroy archive records and those who seek to expose them.”
“It’s unlikely to be anyone here. We’re all tested for drink and drug dependencies on a regular basis. Psychologically profiled, mental health assessments. MacDonald suspended anyone deemed ‘at risk’. Anyway, other than the likes of me and you, who would possibly care enough to destroy the archive?”
“What if someone is attempting to rewrite history? Think about it, in a few more years, who will be left alive to say what really happened? The truth might be lost forever.”
“The Russians were rather good at rewriting history,” admitted Ephesus.
“What’s in your head is too important to lose, Ephesus.”
“If I’m not safe here, I’m not safe anywhere. Anyway, I’m not afraid of them.”
“I seem to remember Gill said the same thing.”
“Where else would I go? Clearly, St Mary’s is no safer.”
“Well, you can’t stay here. Sergeant Jones and his team can get us all back to the Chester.”
“My dear boy, I’m far too old for all that rushing around. I need to stay put and sort out this mess.”
“Be careful, Ephesus. Whoever’s behind this will stop at nothing. They’re ruthless.”
“They wouldn’t dare come after me. Now, go and find Miss Stephens. She was worried about you.”
One of Gill’s team directed Zed to a level four containment laboratory deep underground. Through a Perspex screen, he observed her in head to toe protection, hooked up to an air supply, placing samples under a powerful microscope, making notes on a jotter pad.
“Push the intercom button if you want to talk to her,” said the technician, sat hunched over a computer screen.
Gill looked round when the intercom squawked into life, giving him a friendly wave.
“Zed, I’ll be done in ten minutes. Wait for me, will you?” Her voice sounded metallic, muffled by the hood.
“Any idea what they’re working on?” he asked the technician, flashing the gold visitor pass Ephesus gave him.
“See that beast over there,” said the technician pointing at the grey box and monitor that could have been a photocopier. “That’s our DNA sequencer. We use it to decode each strain of the virus.”
“As easy as that?”
He smiled. “I wish. There’s a quarter of a million lines of code. So far, it’s taken,” he looked up at the clock above the door, “eighty-one hours just to answer the most basic questions about its formation and structure. With the network down, it’s going to take five times as long.”
Gill finished up what she was doing, carefully returning the samples to what looked like a domestic fridge. She reemerged a few minutes later, her hair tied back in a bun, adjusting her clothes.
“Walk me back to my office?” she suggested.
He took one arm and led her back up the stairs to the upper levels. “Earlier, you were asking about Kelly and Mai Pederson.”
“The US translator?”
“So I asked around. Someone in my team worked here in the late Eighties, knew Kelly well enough to remember his religious conversion. He became a Bahá’íst.”
“A what?”
“You know, the Bahá’í Faith. They believe in peace, love, harmony, that sort of thing.”
“Like a cult?”
“No, it was fairly common round where Kelly lived. Apparently, he was appointed treasurer for the local chapter.”
“I bet any happy-clappy religious stuff didn’t go down well with the Porton hierarchy?”
“Like a lead balloon. That’s when the rumours started. Opinions turned quickly, so I’m told.”
“Being a pacifist hardly disqualified him from doing his job,” said Zed with just a little too much animation. “Surely that’s what you want from a weapons inspector?”
“Maybe. Listen,” she said, pulling him in close so that their faces were inches apart. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About getting out of here, while I still can. If the offer’s still open...”
Zed pulled her and hugged her tightly. “Pack your bags. You’re coming with us.”
Chapter 28
Sergeant Jones ushered Zed, Gill and Daniels back towards their Mercedes SUV waiting outside Porton Down’s main entrance in the glare of the building’s floodlights. The pre-dawn sky was already brighter, reflecting off the volunteer firemen’s fluorescent jackets as they repacked their equipment onto their truck, sharing a joke and a cigarette, staring at the American military uniforms with a mix of curiosity and perhaps suspicion.
A door slammed and MacDonald emerged, flanked by two armed guards, making a bee-line for Zed.
“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving,” warned MacDonald. “You’re both witnesses to suspected arson. The fire inspector will need to interview you.”
Zed exchanged glances with Sergeant Jones, who kept a respectful distance, ready to intervene on Zed’s command. “We’re behind schedule,” explained Zed, “but I’d be happy to answer questions back at St Mary’s.”
“I’ve just spoken with the Major. He’s asked that you stay put. Mister Fox will take over the investigation on his return.”
“We’re on the clock, Commander,” insisted Sergeant Jones. “There’s a boat waiting to take us back to the Chester at high tide.”
MacDonald noticed Gill keeping a low profile in the back seat of the Mercedes.
“Miss Stephens?” MacDonald seemed confused by what was really happening.
Gill slammed the door to pre-empt any further discussion.
“I can’t stop you but I really wouldn’t advise you leaving,” cautioned MacDonald, “certainly not until curfew is lifted.”
“Thank you, Commander. But we really should be leaving. We got what we came here for.”
There was an uneasy standoff. Zed wondered why MacDonald didn’t just arrest them all, but Sergeant Jones’s presence seemed to give him pause. “Very well. I shall inform the Major when he gets here.” Turning to Miss Stephens he wished her good luck, through gritted teeth. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The Mercedes pulled away, heading towards the dawn sky before turning south.
“What was all that about?” asked Jones, turning round to face Zed, curious to learn the real purpose of their clandestine visit.
“Look, he knows he can’t stop us, but it doesn’t stop him trying.”
“MacDonald is covering his back,” explained Gill. “Everyone here is terrified of Donnelly. We’ve all had run-ins with him over the years. Donnelly can be a vindictive bastard when he puts his mind to it, but he always protects his own.”
“Was MacDona
ld military before coming here?”
“Actually, no. He’s a geek like me. Way back when, he was an MoD contractor, like Fox, PhD in Computer Science, used to lead our cybersecurity team. I think that’s why we’ve always got along. Him and Fox worked together in some previous capacity. Fox recommended him for the base commander position. They were both brought on staff after the DSTL data breach.”
“Wait, there was a data breach?”
“Porton servers were hacked. Big one, five or six years ago.”
“Why am I only just hearing about this now?”
“Because it was hushed up, for obvious reasons. Porton’s firewall has been under attack for decades. The Russians and Chinese were always probing our defences, trying to find weak points. Back in the day, the MoD used centralised teams, specialists like MacDonald and Fox, to protect a host of key government installations and sensitive data, but a few years ago Porton’s cyber defences became a full-time job. We put in place state-of-the-art countermeasures, monitoring software, that sort of thing.”
“Did they stop the attacks?”
“Not really. It doesn’t matter how high you build the walls, there are always access points. Bit like a castle, you still need to get in and out. Drainage, side gates etcetera.” Zed appreciated the castle analogy, encouraging her to continue.
“Hackers are smart, they hide viruses in weird and wonderful ways.”
“You mean like Robin Hood hiding weapons in a hay cart?” asked Zed with a wry smile.
“Exactly. All computer networks have boundaries that are, by their nature, highly porous.”
“I suppose I assumed Porton’s was a closed system. Staff can’t just install third-party software, willy-nilly?”
“No, but it doesn’t stop hackers attacking benign components connected to the network.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Look, all it takes to compromise a secure system is someone exploiting a weak point in a minor but important way.” Gill seemed lost in thought for a second, trying to remember something. “There was that famous case a few years back in Las Vegas. You might have read about it?”
“You mean the aquarium?”
“Exactly. You realise Fox worked on that case? He said it was one of those big hotels on the Strip. His team were called in to investigate a persistent data leak. The casino firewall was big budget, 256-bit, you know, heavy duty encryption, built to keep out even the most expert of hackers, but turned out they overlooked one minor detail.”
“Wasn’t it the maintenance sensor in their fish tank? I’ve heard of leaks, but that’s ridiculous.”
“I know. Someone had a sense of humour.”
“I suppose wherever there’s money or sensitive data, particularly in an industry like gambling, you get criminals trying to gain access.”
“Hackers get a bad rap. I’ve met a few in my time. Some are quasi-celebrities. New firewalls are a challenge, like climbing Mount Everest or the tallest skyscraper. They conquer them because they’re there.”
“So you’re saying one internet-enabled sensor or piece of machinery can make an entire network vulnerable?”
“Think about it. Every vending machine, phone system, heating, lighting, smart TV and fridge these days has an internet connection. In a secure environment, like Porton, we couldn’t risk these devices being hacked, or used to listen in to sensitive conversations. Whereas, at the casino, the aquarium’s maintenance depended on a water temperature sensor that alerted the technician if there was ever a problem. A hacker discovered that vulnerability and reprogrammed it to transfer gigabytes of data.”
“Then surely all you need to do is disable access, or disconnect these devices from the network?”
“Easier said than done. More and more consumer technology relies on a Wi-Fi connection to work at all. But when you think about it, the bigger risk is actually human. You can do all the HR and IT training in the world, but employees are inherently lazy. They write down passwords, or use the same one across multiple services. Like it or not, in most systems, humans are normally the weakest link.”
“Like on the wartime posters. ‘Loose lips sink ships’ or ‘Careless talk costs lives’.”
“Right.”
“So how do you even know when you’ve been hacked if these machines are exchanging data all the time?”
“MacDonald deploys machine learning to understand normal data flows and create a base line. That way, when he sees spikes of unusual activity, he knows immediately that something is awry.”
“Do these weaknesses exist in all government systems?”
“Depends if the cyber guys are doing their jobs or not. Most of the cases Fox and MacDonald investigated were internal data breaches. You wouldn’t believe what people get up to when no-one’s looking. Mining bitcoin, hosting illegal sites, moonlighting, freelancing. Employees are usually the ones to blame.” Gill’s head sagged on her shoulders, as if the effort of speaking for this length of time had caught up with her. “No organisation is invulnerable. If the hackers are any good, they can stay hidden for weeks, even months, without detection, covertly monitoring data flows and reporting back periodically.”
“Just how extensive was this Porton breach you mentioned?”
Gill noted Jones’s watchful stare in the rear-view mirror, absentmindedly listening to their conversation. He threw up his hands. “Everyone in this vehicle is security-cleared, lady. We take our secrets to the grave,” reassured Jones.
Gill lowered her voice. “Everything I’m about to tell you is strictly off the record. Agreed?” She waited for Zed to acknowledge the sensitivity of what she was about to divulge. “About four years ago, Fox approached me to help with a GCHQ investigation. Turned out some British consulate staffer overheard a Chinese diplomat make a coded reference to a classified Porton research project in an elevator at a Hong Kong conference. It caused something of a commotion inside intelligence circles. GCHQ initially assumed there was a mole passing documents.”
“It’s not the first time. I had a similar conversation with Ephesus about Wouter Basson. Did Fox discover who it was?”
“No, but we found and patched the vulnerability. They piggy-backed our daily back-up. All the hardware and software checked out. Fox interviewed all the contractors, all vetted and cleared. He said the breach was very sophisticated, almost untraceable. Our AI registered it as a minor anomaly. Easily overlooked. The maintenance logs showed nothing out of the ordinary.”
“What did they steal?”
“We’re talking megabytes transferred not gigabytes. Very targeted, very hard to spot. A few lines of code here and there. Fox’s investigation was ongoing.”
“Always outbound or inbound too?”
“I believe both. Why do you ask?”
“It’s something I worked on with the Colonel. We wondered whether it was possible hackers targeted any of your lab equipment? Say, the bioreactors?”
“I don’t see how that’s possible. Everything in those labs is isolated. No direct connection to the outside world.”
“The Colonel said the Russians and Chinese showed a particular interest in SCADA networked control systems, used in critical infrastructure like gas pipelines, electrical grids, and power stations. Apparently, the Americans pioneered malware attacks on Iran and Iraq, targeting specific industrial machinery used in the enrichment of plutonium.”
“I’m not aware we still have any SCADA systems at Porton. When Fox joined, I know we invested heavily in upgrading cybersecurity capabilities. It was something he was acutely aware of.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a way for team members to, I don’t know, remote access the bioreactors and sequencers in your lab?”
“You mean like ordering up a pizza, watching TV from your sofa?” mocked Gill. “I know, I’ll brew up some new bioweapon during the ad break.”
Zed fell silent, staring out the window at the brightening dawn as they joined the main road back towards Southampton. He laughe
d to himself. “I just realised something. Why is it cybersecurity borrows so many metaphors from the world of medicine?” Worms, viruses, quarantine et cetera?”
“Because data networks are a lot like living, breathing organisms. Millions of cells and subsystems. Incredibly complex. Learning from each contact with a virus. Cybersecurity AI doesn’t get bogged down in the detail, it just looks at the interactions between systems, the rhythm and flow, until it spots something out of place.”
“You make AI sound almost human.”
“I suppose it is. In another century, artificial intelligence will run everything, anticipate future attacks, even pre-empt them.”
“Like Tom Cruise in Minority Report? Pre-crime?”
“Yeah. Stop breaches before they can do too much damage. Bit like a digital version of the immune system.”
“Both adaptive systems.”
“In cyber, we deploy artificial intelligence to monitor data flows over a period of time. Machine learning is especially good at detecting patterns, highlighting anomalies. When AI spots something suspicious, it intervenes, placing a system in quarantine until human intervention is possible. We can even programme them to shut down to prevent further harm.”
“Yet despite all that sophistication, this breach went undetected for how long?”
“Look, if a hacker is patient and doesn’t get too greedy, they can run indefinitely. Until we can stop employees being human or designing systems that need to talk to the outside world, attacks are inevitable. People are never going to stop sharing files over email or disclosing personal data on social media a hacker can use to spoof passwords.”
“Sounds like you’re circling the wagons again. After all, why blame the system you all helped develop?”
“Zed, you of all people know humans will always reject the constraints we try to impose on them. You simply can’t eliminate risk without destroying personal freedoms. If it was up to me, I’d do it now. Trust AI to make decisions for us.”
“Cue Skynet. Self-aware defence systems learning at a geometric rate. Judgement day.” Zed laughed. “That way disaster lies.”
The Hurst Chronicles | Book 4 | Harbinger Page 20