by Randy Dutton
She listened to the general noises to make out the mood of the crew. I estimate 23 people here talking, crying, complaining, yelling, and laughing. She slowly nodded. In other words, it’s a normal day.
Walking around, she recollected how and why each worker was selected. In setting up the operation a few years earlier, she had recruited some brilliant and somewhat sociable hackers who had received their doctorates from Eurécom and had worked for a variety of companies. They became her recruiters, pulling skilled hackers from Eurécom and the programming chat rooms that focused on breaking Internet security at its highest levels. Some she recruited at Black Hat, the Internet security conference, and a couple from DEFCON, another hackers’ conference.
Claire had instructed these recruiters on what type hackers she wanted, specifically focusing on environmental and social justice advocates, computer geeks who hated ‘capitalists’ and wanted to punish the successful, and those who thought most people as ‘victims’ and lacked free will. There wasn’t an academic minimum for the hirelings, just ability and loyalty.
If their emotional state caused them to be fired from companies or drop out of school, Claire was okay with it – their skills were what mattered. However, with a couple exceptions, if accumulating money was their goal, she wasn’t interested. The greedy hackers were just as likely to turn on her. She did, though, make each new hire the offer of a guaranteed stream of money for parents or siblings as recruitment bonuses. Many emos had negative family issues and sometimes wanted to make amends. In some cases, bookies, loan sharks, or drug dealers had to be paid off. This cash guarantee alleviated the pressure.
She made concessions to the needs of her hackers by creating a bubble that established a moral universe where she set the rules and controlled the variables. Privacy rooms for the employees to release tension as safely as possible were set up. In these were comfortable beds, condoms, clean needles, and high quality – but less – potent drugs. One hacker had been an emergency medical technician who dealt with overdoses and suicide attempts. Fortunately, in this high-tech operation, suicide was rare.
Many of the hackers were hooking up on the job, going into the rooms and returning to their jobs half-an-hour later – this was acceptable, even preferable. In a moment of retrospection, Claire considered this employee arrangement. If convenience keeps them here and working, it enhances security. Hell, I’ve considered hooking up myself once or twice just to relieve the tension. But my paranoia helps fight the urges. I don’t really condone the wanton sex – that reminds me too much of my earlier years – and I abhor the drugs. But to stay in character, I can’t let my negative views be known.
Black Energy’ operation facilitated the infiltration of Eurécom, which had four principal themes: mobile communications, multimedia communications, networking, and security. It also allowed access into the school’s associated laboratories, including the system-on-chip design labs, and Information and Communications Technology (ICT) usage. It was the ICT that most interested Claire, because it included information technology, telephony, broadcast media, all types of A/V processing and transmission, and network-based control and monitoring functions. With this, her hackers could get a jump on the issues and control or manipulate government messages.
She set up the stations in two groups – the ‘black hats’ and the ‘green hats.’
Black hats focused on computer network infiltration, sometimes created with or through the use of zero-day exploits – those software and network vulnerabilities identified before the target’s software developer or users knew about them. Once inside a network they manipulated archival or financial documents; stole and broke passwords; inserted malicious code; used sniffer codes; and lock-picked high-tech data vaults, taking the desired information and leaving backdoors to re-enter at will.
Green hats focused on mining data for profiteering. These guys were the money-makers. The black hats might break in, but the green hats knew how to use the information for financial manipulation and insider trading. The color green was chosen because of the environmental character of their ops, but it really was a double entendre.
Okay, now to check status.
She walked into a workstation. “Are ye well, Steve?” she asked in an Irish accent.
“Hello, Claire.” He was a green-hatter, and one of her star workers. He was a quant, the nickname given to financial quantitative analysis experts. He also was a burn-out – a former Wall Street geek with advanced degrees in mathematics and computer science. In his day, Steve had been a player – a real alpha – the term quants used for people with the skill to routinely beat the financial system through mathematical programs, trends, massive computing analysis, or just plain instinct. Alphas sought the universal secret –Truth they called it – about how markets worked. During the financial boom, Steve could do no wrong and made a fortune for his firm. This success earned him a spot with the big boys. He was an occasional player in the quants’ late night, high stakes poker games – poker being seen as the ultimate indicator of financial mastery. That success changed with the economic collapse, the loss of his fortune and eventual depression and drug dependency – he had lost his alpha. In a non-technical analogy, he lost his mojo – his self-confidence.
Claire didn’t care about Steve’s drug habit or his mood. She didn’t need him to create a better system, or even to find the Truth. Rather she wanted to combine his inside knowledge of the traders, and the systems they used, with her green and black hats, to infiltrate the existing financial trading systems. Once embedded into their computerized algorithms and data-crunching computers, the green hats would identify financial houses’ most likely actions and beat them by microseconds. A millionth of a second was enough for Black Hat’s computers to skim the cream of the profits off the trades. Claire mused that her system was like stealing from the thieves themselves.
In setting this up, she coined her own Greek code word, zeta – the skill to infiltrate and stay one step ahead of whatever system the alphas were using. With the support of the black and green hats, Steve proved he did have zeta.
There were no white hats in the group – they were to be avoided because white hats thought hacking should be used to help governments and businesses. That was a morality she couldn’t control, and didn’t want infesting her crew. She admitted to herself her recruitment wasn’t perfect, and over the years had eliminated the few hackers who exhibited doubts about the operation’s moral goals.
Wandering past each workstation, Claire called up data on each electronic tablet connected by a security cable to each monitor. This was an ‘air gap’ security measure to physically separate mission assignments from mission accomplishments. She obsessed over each assignment’s operational status, often tweaking details and timelines.
She walked into a special projects office, headed by a young man with purple-streaked hair and black lips. He was a black hatter. In the dark office, his sunken and dark eyes looked over the top of his glasses. His blood shot corneas were lit only by the OLED monitor and the lights of peripherals.
“Hi, Claire,” he said in a deadpan voice.
She put a can of Jolt on his desk.
He popped the top of the highly caffeinated soda and took a sip. “Thanks.”
She tilted her head down at him, lips tight, eyes narrowed and handed him a slip of paper. “I want you to hack into these groups and monitor an investigation. The details are all there. And back off a little on the brown heroin, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he responded flatly. Angling his head, he caught her steely gaze. “Let’s see, Interpol, the Maldivian Embassy, the US State Department, the Department of Justice, any associated law enforcement agencies, and these four different companies.... Anything else?”
“Identify the law firms involved and see if you can get internal communications about the case. Only go through me with this.”
“Got it, Claire,” he replied with a blank expression.
She shook her head
, turned, and left. He’s a good kid…great hacker…but damn if he isn’t burning out. Well, worst case, I lose a security risk after the job’s done.
Claire walked into another enclosed office and allowed herself a slight smile. Standing with her clasped hands behind her, she told the single hacker in the office, “I want you to monitor the personal communications of a Sven Johansson, President of Snath Biotechnology.”
“What do you want me to look for?” the man asked, looking into her eyes.
Claire’s fist balled into her left hand, flexing and relaxing. “Just anything that mentions the name...Anna.”
With his elbows on the desk, he steepled his open fingertips and thumbs, tapping his forefingers against his lips. “Pretty vague, Claire. Is there a last name?”
“No. Just go with the first name...And see if you can hack his voice comms.” She looked up in consideration. “He’s got an encrypted satellite phone.” She gave him the sat phone number. “You’ll need to monitor it as well.”
“Will do,” he responded passively. He went back to typing on the keyboard.
Next Claire visited an office with a couple – one man and woman – both were Russians black hats. Collaborating at a single computer they focused on daring computer raids into some of the most secure financial and government computer operations. All their hacking was routed like a daisy chain through other scattered slave computers and disparate servers in various countries. These two comprised the combined talent of an infamous hacker known in computer circles as ‘Nike.’
“How’s it going, guys,” Claire announced as she strolled in to the room. “Anything I should know about Nike’s exploits?”
“Hi, Claire!” the woman responded. “Yea, Nike’s been able to hack into 11 digital certificate issuing companies’ servers.”
The man excitedly added, “We – I mean, Nike – can now spoof and impersonate financial websites, accessing millions of financial accounts. This also allows for insertion of malware into any computer that accesses the fake site.” His eyes were wide with excitement. “Want us to demonstrate?”
“Not yet,” Claire said happily, but her thoughts were more cautious. I’m impressed with the skill of these two, but I want to prevent a premature exposure of Nike’s capability. “What else do you have?”
“Well, we’ve one upped the Duqu malware,” the woman announced.
“And that would be what, exactly?”
“Where Duqu infiltrates and gathers intelligence on industrial and civilian infrastructure command and control software such as SCADA, (supervisory control and data acquisition) systems, this version alerts us when anti-malware efforts are first being used to detect it. Our version creates a backdoor and hides its tracks, but not before it sends us what it found. And we now can randomly change the server controlling the malware. Duqu could only operate from one.”
Claire nodded. “Pretty impressive. Keep up the good work, but don’t...I repeat...don’t start using it until I give you the word. Okay?” she said sternly.
Both subordinates nodded. “Yes, Claire.”
She turned and, once out of the office, scanned the main computer room for Jillian, the supervisor she had hired. Claire cleared her throat when, Jillian, a woman with purple-tinted short brunette hair straightened up from behind a hacker’s cubicle. Claire motioned for Jillian to join her.
“Welcome back, Claire,” Jillian said as she followed her boss into Claire’s private office. “It’s been over a week. We’ve missed you.”
“Aye, I’ve been back to the old country.” Claire lied, then sat down at her computer.
“Want to talk about your trip?” Jillian’s smile was sincere. With expectant eyes, she sat across the desk.
“You know I don’t talk about my personal life.” Claire’s stern expression was also sincere, but her eyes focused on a small circular pin on Jillian’s blouse. It had a triangle inside the circle and sun beams emanating from the center.
Jillian looked down. “Sorry, I forgot that rule. Won’t happen again.” Her lips pursed.
“Nothing’s to violate operational security.” Claire into the brunette’s eyes who was contritely shaking her head. “Unity...Service...Recovery.”
Jillian’s eyes lifted and her affable smile returned. “90 days sober. My guy and I want to have a baby.”
“A baby....” Claire swallowed. “Good for the both of you.... Stay clean.” She cleared her throat and held out an electronic tablet. “Here is a revised assignment list.”
Jillian looked at the tablet’s screen. With her index finger she scrolled through the list, as her boss tapped on a separate computer’s keyboard. She finished her review. “No problem.”
Claire leaned back, tilted her head, and again looked up, “What’s the status on the medical records?”
“The black hats have gone through the target list and accumulated what’s available electronically. With these new health-care initiatives digitizing everything, governments’ have made our research much easier. We’ve got records on about 80 percent of people on your list. The remaining 20 percent must be on paper or undigitized film.”
“Have you identified the electronic medical devices used by each person?”
“Yes.” Jillian glanced at her tablet. “We’ve checked for pacemakers, insulin pumps, glucose pumps, cochlear implants, bioactive equipment, subcutaneous drug delivery systems, drug-eluting stents, oxygen masks, and prosthetics. Essentially, anything that’s wireless with updatable firmware.”
“Excellent!”
“I’ve assigned our medical tech to the green hat team. He’s been going over those records looking for vulnerabilities. He’s found several.”—she raised an eyebrow—“I won’t ask what comes next.”
“Good!” Claire’s voice was stern. “And if anyone in our teams becomes too interested, tell me!”
Jillian nodded.
Claire continued, “I want all the records, and the vulnerability assessment downloaded to this USB flash drive by July 20th and delivered to me by courier. By the way, here’s a list of names I’m adding to the list.”—she handed the brunette a small flash drive—“There’ll be more soon. For the ones on the A-list, I want vulnerability assessments on their families as well.”
“On their families?” the supervisor asked nervously. Her eyes widened then saw Claire’s determination. “Okay, you’ll get them. I’ll make it a high priority.”
Jillian requested clarifications on other issues and, once satisfied, proceeded to the appropriate work centers.
Once alone in her office, Claire opened a Coke can and leaned back in her chair. Her computer had a clock as a screen saver that was counting up from a new day. She grinned.
It’s July first in the western Pacific. After the stroke of midnight in each time zone, the UN contracts take effect and Sven’s little critters are released into operational use. If what he says is true, his genetically modified creations will start soaking up the carbon dioxide...or at least give us the ability to soak up the ‘greenbacks’.
The can was held up in a mock toast. To you Sven...and your clever creations! Cheers! She took a gulp. The can rose again. And to you Alexis, may you control everyone and everybody...except me. She typed a few keys and the monitor displayed the Greek island she coveted. She took another gulp, finishing the can, and tossed it into the wastebasket.
Sven you’re not the only one busy today. The UN enforcement rolls into effect and carbon credit trading goes into overdrive. Now, every company emitting carbon dioxide will have to buy their quota of carbon credits or face massive fines. And with carbon credits being issued to every person on earth, trading will be frenetic. We’re going to really busy as the bourses open.
Then there’s the other programs Alexis asked me to implement to add to his wealth and power. She tapped the keyboard to bring her computer out of hibernation, and plugged in the thumb drive Jillian gave her.
Let’s see how well we’ve done in currency manipulation.
/> After copying numbers to a second drive, her next task was to go through the prioritized list of intercepted communications between various offices within the White House, Federal Reserve, World Bank, IMF, EU, and global financial brokers.
By being first, Swanson, or more accurately, my hacker teams, have a nearly perfect record of predicting global bond and currency markets. It’s becoming a significant source of Swanson’s annual wealth. But then, it’s easy when you have minutes or days of advance notice about policy decisions.
We’ve found a way of skimming off part of nearly every payment and funneling it to Swanson. I have to give Alexis credit, with his leadership, we’ve taken gambling to a whole new level. Good thing we’ve rigged the game. But he isn’t the only one who benefits! Her grin widened. With the money I’ll make, that island will be mine!
She opened another can, and held it high, To me! And to my freedom! She took a sip, but the toast had the opposite effect...she felt emptier.
Chapter 28
June 30, afternoon
Flight - Nice to San Francisco
The flight attendant handed Sven another glass. It was his third Johnnie Walker Red whiskey.
Sven hated long flights and being strapped to a seat, even in first class. Normally he would use the time to work, read, or sleep. Nothing worked today. Throughout the flight, his emotions roller-coastered as he recounted his time in France. He fumed at Swanson’s command to halt the phytoplankton program.
If only Swanson accepted that we could cure the world now! Instead he demands control! How dare he break trust with the people to solve their problems! We can do this! I always assumed we’d do it together!
He downed the scotch and held the empty up to the attentive flight attendant.
Someone has to! Whoever does it will be earth’s savior!
His jaw was firmly set in frustration, and his thoughts slowed as he ruminated. Someone…someone…could do it.
A grin appeared, then widened. Once it’s out, Swanson would see the wisdom. He would have made his billions by the time it really took effect. Time...time.... As slow as the oceans circulate, how could I quickly maximize the release without anyone knowing? Hmmmm.