Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 01 - Flapjack (5 page)

-Chapter 11-

The jobs since the Rick insurance scam had been much easier, or maybe it just seemed that way.  Our next job was going to be our first big game.

This
big break came from a strange late night call from, of all things, a toy company.  It was a case that would push the boundaries of our Boy Scout behavior. 

The company was called
Playcom Educational Products, Inc.  We were told it was a small upstart in Burbank, California that made interactive toys for kids, the learning ones that we all should have used when we were young to mold our minds into well-adjusted, intellectual young people. 

W
e managed to wrap our minds around the crux of the case which had to do with a project called Happy People.  It was a slightly inane, or insane toy that brought the cultures of the world to the fingers of your child.  Galveston and I thought of it as a steaming bowl of cultural stew.  It consisted of music, geography, language, and bouncy little cherubs dancing across the screen in their country’s native garb while calling out things in French, Spanish, even Dutch and Swahili.  We didn’t really understand the hubbub about such a product, whose sole purpose seemed to be to give your child the wonderful experience of an acid trip, but apparently it was a feat of magical engineering.

Playcom
had a prototype and employed the help of a software development company called Genesis Solutions, Inc. to complete the software for the project.  The COO of Playcom, Stanley Clostine, had informed us that Genesis was supposed to complete the software for the product, but somehow they couldn’t finish it.  Clostine found out through some informants that Genesis had been secretly marketing the Playcom product to the heavy hitters of the youth toy market, especially Hasbro and Mattel under a different name called Global Kids, codenamed
Adamanthea
.  Both of these companies showed some interest in purchasing the rights and design of the toy.

P
laycom wanted us to essentially go into Genesis, steal back the plans, and make sure they couldn’t continue production.  Genesis actually designed software for defense contractors, security companies, and the government.  It wasn’t in their mission plan to market kid’s toys, but we figured they just saw the dollar signs from the potential of the product.  We came to realize that the toy business was not so fluffy and cuddly.  It’s a billion dollar industry, sometimes more brutal than any other business sector.  Elmo and SpongeBob Squarepants aren’t usually hugging and shaking hands.  Many times they pull out weapons and have a good, old-fashioned street fight.  For us, however, it was going to be a big fat payday.

Genesis
would have the plans securely hidden away and we needed to become much more creative to get them.  We were going to need a little outside help.

-Chapter 12-

Galveston had a few contacts in the area of computer geekery, but only one person he felt could handle a job of this size with the discretion it would need.  Galveston considered him a super geek, but only in the nicest of terms.

Alex Jubokowski had a resume a mile long.
  He was a former computer programmer with the National Security Agency, had designed software for missile defense systems for Northrup Grumman, written security software for giants Microsoft and Bank of America, and implemented tracking and distribution software for FedEx, just to name a few.  He did this all before the tender age of thirty.

Boredom set in, however, and
Alex set his sights on Las Vegas, that wholesome city in the desert.  He developed an algorithm to predict the next sequence of numbers on slot machines, a hobby he started back in his days at MIT, and a once thought impossible task.  He got caught of course, not using the algorithm, but trying to purchase a slot machine on the black market.  He somehow escaped prosecution, but the word had spread about his impropriety and his job prospects dried up.  He was just the guy we were looking for.

Upon meeting Mr. Alex Jubokowski, my stereotypes got the best of me.
  I expected to meet a thirty-something, short, nerdy guy of Polish descent with little to no personality, wearing glasses and a pocket protector.  Instead I met a tall twenty-something man of Indian descent wearing a black Pantera t-shirt, black leather jacket, misplaced earring, and riding a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R crotch rocket motorcycle.  Along with that he had one hell of a gregarious personality.  I liked him from the beginning and I knew why Galveston had him in mind the whole time. 

We met him at our pala
tial rolling estate, which disappointed him when he found out it was Galveston’s apartment.

“
Judo!” Galveston quipped, thrusting out his hand.

“
You know I always hated that nickname,” Alex responded.

“
Yeah, whatever,” Galveston smiled, slapping Jubokowski on the back, “Judo, Roger Marshall.”

I offered my hand,
“very nice to meet you.  I’ve heard very little about you,” I laughed.

“
Nice to meet you too, Roger.  I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you,” he agreed dryly.

“
I’m glad I could be of such importance.”

“
How in the world did you let this guy talk you into anything he’s involved in?” Jubokowski questioned, smiling and pointing at Galveston.

“
Actually, I’m an escaped mental patient,” I quipped back.

“
You would have to be, wouldn’t you?  I tell ya, this guy has gotten me involved in more things than I care to say.  Half-cracked schemes, touting of federal laws, you name it,” Jubokowski explained.  “More than once I thought I was insane.”

“
That’s the way I feel everyday with this guy,” I retorted.  I finally had someone who felt my pain.

“
If you guys are done with your warm fuzzies, I’d say it’s time to get down to business.  We have a lot of work to do,” Galveston said as we all walked up the steps to our glorious headquarters.

“
Jubokowski?” I began, “can I ask you how you got that name?” He looked me squarely in the eyes.

“
Well you see, when a man and a woman…,” he started, gesturing with his hands.

“
I mean, it’s an original name, not usual with someone of your, ah, appearance,” I said cutting him off mid sentence, “I think I know about the birds and the bees part.  I’m curious to know your heritage.”

“
Why, because I look like I just got off the boat?”

“
Well, yeah,” I replied.

“
Fair enough,” he said shrugging his shoulders.  “It’s pretty simple.  My Dad is a Polish Jew and my Mom is an Indian Hindu.”

“
That’s quite a match.”

“
Yeah, it’s hell on dates.  I guess you can consider me a, ah, Hindjew,” Jubokowski laughed.

“
Oh that’s good, and I guess you can’t eat pork or beef,” I retorted.  Galveston turned his head as we walked in the front door.

“
I’m sure there’s a large Hindjew contingent in the U.S.,” Galveston joked.

“
You know, not as many as you would think.  We’re not a real strong demographic group,” Alex replied.

I bet
Alex had received this question a few times and I liked him already.  He would fit in well as part of our merry band of misfits. 

“
I can’t believe all the fuss about a kid’s toy,” Alex started. “But hey, it’s not for me to question.  Dan I got that information for you.”  He pulled out a piece of paper from his back pocket.  Galveston read over it quickly and placed it on the table in front of us.

“
That’s what I thought,” he said shaking his head.

“
What is it?” I inquired.

Galveston
looked over the paper again.  “Genesis is one heavy hitter.  They’re going to be a tough egg to crack.  Roger, remember rule 107, never, ever, underestimate your opponent,” Galveston said to me.

“
He’s filling your head with those silly, nondescript rules, huh?” Alex said.

“
Yeah, since I met him,” I replied sighing.

“
I hate to admit that they’re good rules.  I learned more in two months from this joker than my full term at the NSA,” Alex said to me smiling.  “You know Gal,” Alex continued with a wink, “These guys have serious computer security as well as physical security.  It’s going to be virtually impossible to get into the system from the outside.  They have two or three layers of security before you can get to their internal servers.  They have watchdog programs, high level encryption, the works.  The only real way is from the inside.”

“
You know, I’ve thought about that and I have a plan.”

“
And how, pratel, do you plan to pull this off,” I asked.

“
Simple,” he said, “We’re going to find out who is in charge of the product and he’s going to give us the password to the plans.”

-Chapter 13-

Dan laid out his plan and Alex added the technical parts.  I acted merely as a waterboy.  My part had essentially been done.  I had secured the finances and the contract rate if we succeeded.  The rest was up to these two, ah, team members.  The plan was actually ingenious and simple, as hard as it was for me to stomach saying that. 

Clostine informed us that an
executive named Dart McLeod was in charge of the
Adamanthea
product.  Why anyone would name their kid Dart, I’ll never know, maybe he had a pointy head at birth, but none the less, that was his name.

We needed to get Dart’s password and the easiest way Alex could think of was
through a simple process called keylogging.  A program installed on the computer would record the keystrokes on the keyboard and send the information to us.  The problem was Dart needed to install the program on his computer and then log into the internal server of Genesis.  If we could accomplish that, we could roll in, access the designs, and get rid of them.  It was a vital step in our plan.

We solved this problem with
a simple email message to Dart.  The message was daftly written by Galveston with a keen eye on juicy morsels of information.  It had to be believable enough that Dart would open the attachment we sent with it and not ask questions.  It would be a lucky break for us, but knowing human nature we knew Dart would have to look.

We disguised the email
as a consultant to Genesis named Charles Tanqueray and sent it late in the day.  Hopefully Dart’s knowledge of 19th century liquor distillers was poor, or he didn’t like gin.  Mr. Tanqueray was of course the namesake for Tanqueray gin and a man who came from three generations of clergymen.  He didn’t go the religious route, however, and began to distill gin in 1830, shipping it to the colonies of the British Empire where people began to develop a taste for Tanqueray and tonic.  Despite this bit of historical information the email read as this:

To: Dart McLeod, Project Engineer

Subject: Sensitive and Confidential, Problems with
Adamanthea

Product

My team has identified and modified key design flaws in the original

design of the
Adamanthea
prototype product that would have

increase
d production costs dramatically and not allowed ample

physical
computing space for safe and effective operation of the

product.
 We have made modifications to the product’s internal

design
.  The updated schematics have been included as an attachment

to this email. 
These modifications will reduce production costs by 50

to 75 percent of the
original estimates.

You
are to immediately implement these new design changes into

development by order of
the Genesis CEO Frances Drake.  This

information is highly

sensitive.  Please review these plans in the attachment to this email

ASAP. 
Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.

Sincerely,

Charles Tanqueray,
Sinclair Consulting Associates 

The email was so completely far from the truth that we were bordering on a Nigerian money email scam.  We hoped we hadn’t written too much fiction.  If our calculations were correct, and they seldom were, Dart would open the attachment and unknowingly install the keylogger program while looking at a mess of useless computer schematics.  Alex insured us it couldn’t be picked up by any of the spyware or anti-virus programs Genesis was running.

We now waited to s
ee if Dart would take the bait and access his Genesis account after reading our email.  This is where we would get his username and password into the Genesis system.  If Galveston’s knowledge of human behavior was correct, we would soon have our answer.

We began to panic as they hour stretched past 5 P.M.  A full day could be lost, or suspicion could be raised
, if Dart didn’t open the email attachment.  It was time we didn’t have. 

Finally we saw words cross the screen
in front of Alex’s computer as the keylogging program sent us Dart’s keyboard inputs.  We knew Dart had read the message and almost simultaneously opened the attachment placed in the email.

“
Naughty, naughty.  You should never open email attachments that are fishy,” Alex said.   

We had now added another broken law to
our books, computer fraud.  Dart accessed the email late enough in the day that he wouldn’t be able confirm its authenticity until the next day.  If he had accessed it only a few hours earlier and did some investigating then we would have been sunk.  Our timing couldn’t have been better.

It was as if we had strings attached to Dart’s arms and legs.
  He rapidly sent off a reply to our email saying there was nothing in the attachment and questioning our role in the product.  He wasn’t going to get a reply.  We still needed Dart to want to check the authenticity of our fake schematics with the real plans.  Again, our puppet didn’t fail to disappoint.

Dart immediately logged into the Genesis
system and meticulously keyed in his username and password for entry into the system.  We all wrote the keystrokes down in unison, giddy at the find.   He must have pulled up the plans for
Adamanthea
on his computer and looked them over and been thoroughly confused.  Now we had to get into Genesis that night.