by S J Grey
Despite himself, Caleb wanted to smile. “It’s a good analogy. We can do as much damage if we plan it properly. Only in our case, we’re looking for something in plain sight. Like a network printer.”
“How will that work?” Will looked sceptical.
“It’s easy,” said Caleb. “Ninety-nine percent of reception desks have a nearby printer. If we can get physical access to it, that’s a ton of information at our fingertips. They usually carry stickers with asset tags, service providers, contact names in case of error, and network identifiers. Pure gold.”
“Easy,” said Will with a snort. “How does that make it easy?”
Caleb turned to the board and started to sketch out a series of linked boxes. “When we have a contact name for someone, a woman, we can send her flowers. We need a woman who isn’t on site that day—either on holiday or working at another location. One of you jokers can pretend to be delivering them. You get to reception and ask for her by name. You say you have to get a signature, so that means waiting until they find her, which is going to take some time. While you’re there, you watch for foot traffic, see how busy the area is, and get a visual on the nearest printer.
“What we’re looking to do is disable it, so that means a second visit in another guise. Courier delivery, dropping off brochures for a new dry-cleaning shop, arriving for an appointment—take your pick. Get the receptionist diverted for long enough to get to the printer, and then fry the memory. I know you’ve got a gadget that’ll do that. Then another one of you will be conveniently leaving the building and will check with our flustered receptionist, in case there are any other jobs need attention. She’ll ask you to fix it, and you’ll grab all the information you can get.”
Jonathan huffed a laugh. “And then boom. We have a printer and easy access to their entire network. Damn, but you have some good ideas.”
Caleb gave a short nod. “That’s what we need. Can you make it happen?”
“Yep,” said Jonathan. “I’ll work with Nat and find the names to target. We’ll check out their personal online presence, too.”
“I seem to be the only one asking questions,” said Will, “but the exercise doesn’t start until next week. Shouldn’t this week be about data gathering?”
“If you want to play by the rules, then yes,” said Caleb. “But real attackers won’t wait until the defences have been assembled. And neither do we. Remember, we’re not looking for a single weakness. The idea of the exercise is to find as many as possible. As well as getting access to a printer, I want to get people inside the building. Scan the social media again, to get a look at their ID badges. Can we replicate them?
“This is a minor government department, but the location holds over a thousand people. On a Monday morning, you can guarantee there’ll be employees who’ve left their pass at home. Jonathan, I want you to tailgate into the building. You look the part. And everyone who enters the building needs to take pictures. We have to prove how far we can get.” Caleb looked at his watch. “We’ll reconvene in the morning. Does everyone have something to do?”
Nods and affirmations replied.
He escaped to his office. He planned to work on the data-mining programme they’d deploy when they had access to the target network, but he struggled to concentrate. His office was too full. Too many people in his space. He’d leave early and go for a walk on the beach.
It made a pleasant change, to get back home in the daylight, even if the weather was shit. He put away his motorbike, greeted Minerva, his vocal cat, and then headed out again. The wind had risen to an almost-gale, icy rain that spattered against his face as he walked.
He loved it. This, more than anything, reminded him he was alive. As long as he had breath in his body, he wouldn’t stop until he found Joss’s killer. Caleb’s life had been on hold for the past three years, but in a way, he was still locked inside a cell. One of his own making.
He sucked in a deep breath, wiped the raindrops from his eyes, and walked on. He was the only person stupid enough to venture outside, and that was fine.
When he changed direction, to head back to the house, the wind tugged at his jacket and threw sand in his face, but he didn’t mind. It was out here, where he fought to stay on his feet, that he quieted the noise inside his head.
An hour later, when it was fully dark outside, Caleb let himself into his house. As always, he checked the physical alarms, then the cameras, and finally ran a sweep for electronic bugs, using a scanner Mark gave him.
Everything was clear. He could relax for the evening.
He fed Minerva, cleaned her litter tray, and then played with her while his dinner reheated. Min was fifteen years old but still loved to chase foil balls. She’d skitter across the floor after them, nimble as a kitten. When the timer pinged, he retrieved the leftover casserole from the oven and settled down to eat it. The food was courtesy of Emma’s mum, who insisted on treating him as an adopted son.
Caleb settled down at his desk, coffee at hand, and switched on his PC. In the same way as he’d checked the state of his physical security earlier, he ran through a list of virtual checks that his systems hadn’t been compromised and that he could surf the net from a completely anonymous position. Only then, did he start work.
Joss kept a detailed log of all the times her system had been breached. The intrusions ran into the hundreds over a three-year period, and somewhere in that list lurked the ID of her killer. Maybe not the guy who actually drowned her, but the person who decided his sister’s fate.
Caleb would make them pay.
Each separate intrusion needed to be investigated. Caleb visualised them as pieces of string, each one to be followed back to its source. Then, when he found the origin point, he’d seed the spiders and data-collection tricks he knew, and embed the reference points for his Ekho tool. It took time. Time to plant the seeds, and time for them to gather information, and then even more time for him to review the outputs. He didn’t care. If it took years, it meant the reward would be all the sweeter.
Whoever was behind Joss’s murder had been trying to find Ekho. Caleb would use that same tool to find them, and that was fitting, especially since Joss helped to develop it in the first place.
Time to focus. Caleb pulled up the records of his most recent searches from the night before. He scanned the results quickly. Nothing of interest yet, but the seeds needed longer to develop. His spiders were in place though, and hadn’t been dislodged. He moved on to the next virtual thread in the list. Another set of links to follow—a source to be traced. Ekho worked by leaving a hidden breadcrumb trail that enabled traceability. No more anonymity. It wasn’t a fast process, though. Every spider had to be added manually, in order to avoid detection.
There was a rhythm to his work, a routine he followed every night, and the familiarity of it was soothing. He was doing something useful. He would make a difference.
Something nudged his hand. A soft meow sounded close to his ear.
Caleb opened his eyes and lifted his head. His neck was stiff, and his shoulders ached. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again, slumped over the keyboard. Minerva butted his hands, her fur soft and warm, and he ran one hand along her back. “Hungry?” Was it morning already? The clock on his screen told him it was 5:07. Way too early to think about getting up. He stretched, and stumbled his way to bed after a quick diversion to the bathroom.
“Sorry, Min,” he said, but she followed him and curled up at his side, her little paws kneading the duvet cover. He fell asleep to the sound of her purr and that of the surf outside.
Wednesday 3 April
Chapter Five
Caleb positioned himself in the café with his back to the wall and his gaze on the customers coming in. He didn’t sleep well after going to bed, but he couldn’t afford to drop his focus. He lifted the coffee for another sip. Strong, hot, and sweet, it would give him a much-needed boost. Sonic was due for their meeting in twenty minutes, but Caleb bet the guy would also turn up early.
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Sure enough, a few minutes later, a familiar man strolled through the doors, wearing the same leather jacket as the day before. It had to be Sonic.
Caleb remained slouched in his chair and waited for Sonic to check out the other patrons.
He didn’t. Instead, the guy raised a hand and joined a chick in the queue, stooping to press a kiss on her lips. She spoke to him in an undertone. They looked to be having a heated discussion at the counter, and only broke off to place their order.
Interesting. Was this something to do with meeting Caleb?
He pretended to be reading something on his phone while he watched them. They took a table marker and chose seats in the window, where they spoke in whispers, heads close together.
The chick got up and stomped away, while Sonic stared at her, lips pursed.
Time to go and introduce himself? Caleb slugged the last of his coffee and was about to stand up, when the chick walked up to him. She could be anywhere between eighteen and twenty-five, her face pale and clear of makeup. A green knit hat came down to her eyebrows, and she was scowling at him.
“You’re early,” she said, hands on her slim hips. One sneakered foot tapped on the floor. She looked pissed.
How should he respond?
“I know you’re Captain Mal,” she said. “So let’s talk business.”
Captain Mal was his online name, but how did she know?
Caleb glanced at the guy in the leather jacket, who was currently sending death-glares in his direction. “And you are?”
Her eyebrows tugged together into a dark V-shape. “You’re here to meet Sonic, but if you’re just another misogynistic asshole, you can find someone else.” She tugged off the hat and revealed short blond hair, the ends spiky and tipped with neon blue.
“Ah fuck.” Yep, he messed up. “I thought your boy was Sonic.” Caleb gestured at Dr. Robotnik. “You know, with the logo and all. I’m sorry. Please, sit down.”
She huffed a breath. “Just because I’m female doesn’t mean I don’t understand code.”
Caleb held up his hands in surrender. “I’m an asshole. But give me a chance, okay?”
She scowled, but then pulled out the chair opposite him and sat. “Only because you’re Caleb Rush, but if you try to patronize me, I’m outta here.”
He glanced again at the guy in the jacket. “Your boyfriend has a problem with me?”
“He wants to know why you were at his work yesterday. He’s suspicious about you. He also doesn’t like that you’ve been inside.”
No point in protesting his innocence. Caleb shrugged. “And yet, you’re still talking to me.”
Her lips narrowed, and her stare threatened to scorch him in his tracks. “He’s my boyfriend, not my keeper. Were you following him?”
He liked the way her brain worked. “Maybe?”
“Because you thought he was Sonic?”
“Maybe?”
“And yet,” her echo was mocking, “I’ve been getting my coffee here every day for the past month, and you failed to notice me. What does that tell you?”
Once again, Caleb could imagine what Joss would say. She’d be cracking up at his mistake, and then slapping him upside the head. “It tells me you’re good at flying under the radar. You have an online ID that sounds like a guy, and that’s what you want people to think.” Was she thawing to him a fraction? “It tells me you want to be taken seriously.”
“Because I can’t be taken seriously as a girl?”
How many more ways could he fuck up this discussion? He scrubbed both hands across his face. “Look. I don’t care who you are or what you call yourself. I’ve seen what you can do, and I want to hire you.”
She stared at him with an intensity that reminded him of Minerva, but then her lips lifted. “Was that meant to be an apology? Pretty shitty if it was.”
“You know what? If you’re looking for an argument, take it up with someone else.” He was two seconds away from walking out, when Sonic nodded and thrust out a hand across the table.
“Let’s start again,” she said. “I’m Sonic, and I know you’re Captain Mal. Love the handle, by the way. I’d like to work for you, as long as it’s ethical. What do you say?” She smiled, and her narrow face lit up briefly.
They shook hands. Her grip was cool and firm, and her expression was serious.
“You’re the best bounty hunter in the region,” said Caleb. “I know you’ve done work for insurance companies, and it was you who pinpointed the guy who tried to rip off the animal shelter.”
She sat a little straighter, and her eyes sparkled. “I hate people taking advantage of the underdog. Literally.”
“Was it also you who found the digital evidence to take down the ticket touts for the Homegrown Festival?”
“Yep. That was me, with a little help from Griff.” She jerked her chin toward Dr. Robotnik. “My boyfriend.”
“Nice work.”
“Thank you.” She graced him with a cat-like smile. “Niceties aside, what do you want me to do?”
Helping him with the search for Joss’s killer would come later. Much later. He needed to get a crumb of information first, so he knew where to start looking. In the meantime, he wanted to get Sonic onside. “I’m leading a red team exercise. I’ve been assigned a bunch of guys who don’t know how to think outside the box, and I want to shake things up a bit.”
Sonic leaned forward. “Ooh, I like red teaming. This is legit, right?”
“Totally. You’d be officially on the payroll for the duration. It kicks off tomorrow and is supposed to run for two weeks. Are you free during working hours, or do you have a day job?”
“I work freelance. I can do my other work out of hours.” She’d shake up the team in the best way possible.
Caleb nodded and slid a business card across the table. “Come up to my office today and meet the team. I’ll get the paperwork ready for you.”
She cocked her head to one side. “You haven’t asked my rate.”
He shrugged. “It’s not me that’s paying. I was subcontracted this gig, and told to hire who I need. Which reminds me– I need your real name for the contract.”
“Andi Redmond. That’s Andi with an i.” She stood, tugged her hat back into place, and tucked his card into the pocket of her jeans. “See ya later, Captain Mal.”
The morning had taken an unexpected turn, but now Caleb had to get his ass in gear. He’d promised to meet Emma and Mark at the airport.
Traffic in and out of the city was busy as usual for this time in the morning, but he cut through the jams on his motorbike. He loved biking. If he ever got into a relationship again, it had to be with a girl who loved his bike as much as he did.
Despite his solitary lifestyle, a handful of women had shown interest in hooking up with him. Prison bunnies. They got turned on by the idea of having sex with a convicted criminal. He didn’t go near them.
He claimed a space in the undercover car park and hurried into the departure hall. He saw Emma and Mark right away, waiting by the check-in machines.
Mark raised a hand in greeting.
“Hey,” said Caleb. “Sorry I’m late.” He dodged around a family with a mountain of cases stacked onto two trolleys, and reached Emma’s side. A solitary duffel lay at her feet. “You already checked your baggage in?” he asked.
“I’ve only got carry-on,” said Mark. “I don’t plan to stay long.”
Emma’s smile looked as artificial as a snowman in the middle of summer. She clung to Mark’s hand and huddled against him. “I want you back here in two weeks, okay?”
“That’s the plan.” Mark’s voice was cheery, but his jaw was tight and a frown creased his forehead. “While I’m away,” he said to Caleb, “Em was talking about taking self-defence classes. Why don’t you go with her?”
“I’m standing right here, you know.” She sounded two steps away from crying.
Caleb thought quickly. “I can teach you some moves. Street-fighting stuff, rather t
han what you’d learn in a gym.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Where did you learn to fight?” She grimaced. “Shit. You learned inside, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “If you want to fight dirty, I can teach you.”
“Why not?” She shrugged.
“My gate’s open.” Mark gestured at the screens on the wall. “Let’s go.”
Emma hung on to him until the last possible moment. Then, with other passengers weaving around them, she wrapped herself around Mark, and they kissed and kissed. It was cute, but Caleb stared out of the window until they’d finished. Then, when Mark vanished from sight into the ticket-only section, Caleb turned to Emma.
“Come on, Ginger.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Isn’t there a posh donut stall here, somewhere? I could take some back to the guys in the office.”
“I’m not ginger. My hair’s auburn. Are you trying to distract me?” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “Damn,” she said under her breath. “Please tell me my mascara hasn’t run?”
“Your mascara hasn’t run.”
“You’re so funny.” She smiled, and even though it was shaky, it was a real smile. “We need to head for the food court. We got a cab here. Can I get a ride back into town with you?’
“I’d be offended if you didn’t. It’s a nice day for a ride.”
“I guess you mean it’s not raining.”
She was silent as they walked through the food court. It was only when they queued for the ridiculously overpriced donuts that she spoke again. “I think Mark’s lying to me.”
“About what?”
“This trip back to the UK It’s supposed to be a quick handover, while he transitions to a permanent role here, but it feels like more than that. Like he’s not coming back.”
Shit. “What do you mean?” Caleb asked. Mark swore him to secrecy where Emma was concerned.
She shrugged. “The self-defence classes were his idea. And he’s just been—well—off, for the past week. Tense and not sleeping. I know Mark, and I know he’s a good liar, and it’s crucifying me that—after everything we’ve been through—he’s still hiding something from me.”