The Blue Nowhere-SA (29 page)

U.S. ARMY ANTIPERSONNEL CHARGE.

HIGH EXPLOSIVE. THIS SIDE TOWARD ENEMY.

It was attached to a small black box, on which a single red eye began to blink rapidly.

Phate did happen to be in a motel at the moment. That motel was in Fremont, California. And he was in front of a laptop computer.

However, the motel was a Ramada Inn two miles away from the Bay View, where Gillette - the Judas traitor Valleyman - and the cops were undoubtedly fleeing the room at the moment, escaping from the antipersonnel bomb they were certain would detonate at any minute. It wouldn't; the box was filled with sand and the only thing the device was capable of doing was scaring the shit out of anyone who was standing close enough to it to see the made-for-TV blinking light on the supposed detonator.

Phate, of course, would never kill his adversaries in such an inelegant way. That would've been far too gauche a tactic for someone whose goal was, like a player of the MUD game Access, to get close enough to his victims to feel their quaking hearts as he slipped a blade into them. Besides, killing a dozen cops would have brought in the feds in a big way and he'd have been forced to give up on the game here in Silicon Valley. No, he was content to keep Gillette and the cops from the CCU busy for an hour or so at the Bay View while the bomb squad got the mean-looking device out of the room - and giving Phate a chance to do what he'd planned all along: Use the Computer Crime Unit's machine to crack into ISLEnet. He needed to log on through CCU because ISLEnet would recognize him as a root user and give him unlimited access to the network.

Phate had played plenty of MUD games with Valleyman and knew that Gillette anticipated Phate would break into CCU's machine and would try to trace him when he did.

So, after Trapdoor had broken into CCU's computer Phate had driven from the Bay View Motel to this place, where his second laptop was warmed up and waiting for him, online via a virtually untraceable cell phone connection through a South Carolina Internet provider, linked to an anonymizing Net launch pad in Prague.

Phate now looked at some of the files he'd copied when he'd first cracked into CCU's system. These files had been erased but not wiped - that is, permanently obliterated -and he now restored them easily with Restores, a powerful undelete program. He found the CCU's computer identification number and
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

then, after a bit more searching, the following data:

System: ISLEnet Login: RobertSShelton Password: BlueFord

Database: California State Police Criminal Activity Archives

Search Request: (Wyatt Gillette OR Gillette/ Wyatt OR Knights of Access OR Gillette, W.) AND

(compute* OR hack*).

He then changed his own laptop computer's identity number and Internet address to that of CCU's machine then ordered the computer's modem to dial the general ISLEnet access phone number. He heard the whistle and hum of the electronic handshake. This was the moment when the firewall protecting ISLEnet would have rejected any outsider's attempt to get inside but, because Phate's computer appeared to be CCU's, ISLEnet recognized it as a super-access "trusted system" and Phate was instantly welcomed inside. The system then asked:

Username?

Phate typed: RobertSShelton

Passcode?

He typed: BlueFord

Then the screen went blank and some very boring graphics appeared, followed by: California Integrated State Law Enforcement Network

Main Menu

Department of Motor Vehicles State Police

Department of Vital Statistics Forensic Services Local Law Enforcement Agencies Los Angeles

Sacramento

San Francisco

San Diego

Monterey County

Orange County

Santa Barbara County

Other

Office of the State Attorney General Federal Agencies

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

FBI

ATF

Treasury

U.S. Marshals

IRS

Postal Service

Other

Mexican Federal Police, Tijuana Legislative Liaison Systems Administration Like a lion grabbing a gazelle's neck, Phate went straight into the systems administration file. He cracked the passcode and seized root, which gave him unrestricted access to ISLEnet and to all of the systems ISLEnet was in turn connected to.

He then returned to the main menu and clicked on another entry.

State Police Highway Patrol Division Human Resources Accounting Computer Crimes Violent Felonies Juvenile

Criminal Activity Archive Data Processing Administrative Services Tactical Operations Major Crimes Legal Department Facilities Management Felony Warrants Outstanding Phate didn't need to waste any time making up his mind. He already knew exactly where he wanted to go.

The bomb squad had taken the gray box out of the Bay View Motel and dismantled it, only to find that it was filled with sand.

"What the hell was the point of that?" Shelton snapped. "Is this part of his fucking games? Messing with our minds?"

Bishop shrugged.

The squad had also examined Phate's computer with nitrogen-sensing probes and declared it explosives-free. Gillette now scrolled through it quickly. The machine contained hundreds of files - he opened some at random.

"They're gibberish."

"Encrypted?" Bishop asked.

"No - look, just snatches of books, Web sites, graphics. It's all filler." Gillette looked up, squinting, staring at the ceiling, his fingers typing in the air. "What's it all mean, the fake bomb, the gibberish files?"
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Tony Mott, who'd discarded his armor and helmet, said, "All right. Phate set this whole thing up to get us out of the office, to keep us busy Why?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Gillette snapped. "I know why!" Frank Bishop did too. He looked quickly at Gillette and said, "He's trying to crack ISLEnet!"

"Right!" Gillette confirmed. He grabbed the phone and called CCU.

"Computer Crimes. Sergeant Miller here."

"It's Wyatt. Listen--"

"Did you find him?"

"No. Listen to me. Call the sysadmin at ISLEnet and have him suspend the entire network. Right now." A pause. "They won't do that," Miller said. "It's--"

"They have to. Now! Phate's trying to crack it. He's probably inside already. Don't shut it down - make sure it's suspended. That'll give me a chance to assess the damage."

"But the whole state relies on--"

"You have to do it now!"

Bishop grabbed the phone. "That's an order, Miller. Now!"

"Okay, okay, I'll call. They aren't going to like it. But I'll call." Gillette sighed. "We got out-thought. This whole thing was a setup - posting the picture of Lara Gibson to get our address, going through CCU's computer, sending us here. Man, I thought we were one step ahead of him."

Linda Sanchez logged all the evidence, attached chain of custody cards and loaded the disks and computer into the folding cardboard boxes she'd brought with her like a Mayflower mover. They packed up their tools and left the room.

As Frank Bishop walked with Wyatt Gillette back to the car, they noticed a slim man with a mustache watching them from the far end of the parking lot.

There was something familiar about him and after a moment Gillette recalled: Charles Pittman, the Santa Clara County detective.

Bishop said, "I can't have him poking around our operations. Half those county boys handle surveillance like it was a frat party." He started toward Pittman but the officer had already climbed into his unmarked car. He started the engine and drove off.

Bishop called the county sheriff's office. He was put through to Pittman's voice mail and left a message asking the cop to call Bishop back as soon as he could.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Bob Shelton took a call, listened and then disconnected. "That was Stephen Miller. The systems administrator's hopping mad but ISLEnet's suspended." The cop barked at Gillette, "You said you were making sure he couldn't get inside ISLEnet."

"I did make sure," Gillette said to him. "I took the system offline and then shredded every reference to usernames and passwords. He probably cracked ISLEnet because you went back online from CCU to check me out. Phate must've found out the CCU machine's identity number to get through the firewall and then he logged on with your user-name and passcode."

"Impossible. I erased everything."

"Did you wipe the free space on the drives? Did you overwrite the temp and slack files? Did you encrypt the logs and overwrite them?"

Shelton was silent. He broke eye contact with Gillette and looked up at the fast-moving tatters of fog flowing over them toward San Francisco Bay.

Gillette said, "No, you didn't. That's how Phate got online. He ran an undelete program and got everything he needed to crack into ISLEnet. So don't give me any crap about it."

"Well, if you hadn't lied about being Valleyman and knowing Phate, I wouldn't've gone online," Shelton responded defensively.

Gillette turned angrily and continued on to the Crown Victoria. Bishop fell into step beside him.

"If he got into ISLEnet you know what he'd have access to, don't you?" Gillette asked the detective.

"Everything," Bishop said. "He'd have access to everything." Wyatt leapt from the car before Bishop had brought it to a complete stop in the CCU headquarters parking lot. He sprinted inside.

"Damage assessment?" he asked. Both Miller and Patricia Nolan were at workstations but it was Nolan to whom he directed this question.

She replied, "They're still offline but one of the sysadmin's assistants walked a disk of the log files over. I'm just going through it now."

Log files retain information on which users have been connected to a system, for how long, what they do online and if they log on to another system while they're connected. Gillette took over and began keying furiously. He absently picked up his coffee cup from that morning, took a sip and shuddered at the cold, bitter liquid. He put the cup down and returned to the screen, pounding keys hard as he roamed through the ISLEnet log files.

A moment later he was aware of Patricia Nolan sitting beside him. She put a fresh cup of coffee next to him. He glanced her way. "Thanks."

She offered a smile and he nodded back, holding her eye for a moment. Sitting this close Gillette noticed a tautness to her facial skin and he supposed she'd taken her makeover plan so seriously that she'd had some plastic surgery. He had the passing thought that if she used less of the thick makeup, bought some
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

better clothes and stopped shoving her hair off her face every few minutes she'd be attractive. Not beautiful, or demure, but handsome.

He turned back to the screen and continued to key. His fingers slammed down angrily. He kept thinking about Bob Shelton. How could somebody who knew enough about computers to own a Winchester server drive be so careless?

Finally, he sat back and announced, "It's not as bad as it could be. Phate was in ISLEnet but only for about forty seconds before Stephen suspended it."

Bishop asked, "Forty seconds. That's not enough time to get anything useful to him, is it?"

"No way," the hacker said. "He might've looked at the main menus and gotten into a couple of files but to get to anything classified he'd need other passcodes and'd have to run a cracking program for those. That'd take him a half hour at best."

Bishop nodded. "At least we got one break."

In the outside world it was nearly 5:00 P.M., rainy again, and a hesitant rush hour was under way. But for a hacker there is no afternoon, there is no morning, no night. There is simply time you spend in the Machine World and time you do not.

Phate was, for the moment, offline.

Though he was, of course, still in front of his computer in his lovely faA ade of a house off El Monte in Los Altos. He was scrolling through page after page of data, all of which he'd downloaded from ISLEnet.

The Computer Crimes Unit believed Phate had been inside ISLEnet for only forty-two seconds. What they didn't know, however, was that as soon as he'd gotten inside the system one of Trapdoor's clever demons had taken over the internal clock and rewritten all the connection and download logs. In reality Phate had spent a leisurely fifty-two minutes inside ISLEnet, downloading gigabytes of information. Some of this intelligence was mundane but - because CCU's machine had root access - some was so classified that only a handful of law enforcers in the state and federal governments were allowed to see it: access numbers and passcodes to top-secret government computers; tactical assault codes; encrypted files about ongoing operations; surveillance procedures; rules of engagement and classified information about the state police, the FBI, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, the Secret Service and most other law enforcement agencies.

Now, as soft rain streaked the windows of his house, Phate was scrolling through one of these classified folders - the state police human resource files. These contained information on every individual employed by the California State Police. There were many, many subfolders but at the moment Phate was interested only in the one he was looking through now. It was labeled Detective Division and it contained some very useful data.

IV

The Internet is about as safe as a convenience store in East L.A. on Saturday night.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

- Jonathan Littman, The Fugitive Game

For the rest of the evening the Computer Crimes Unit team pored over the reports from the Bay View Motel, continuing to search for any leads to Phate and listening in fearful anticipation to the police-band scanners for reports of more killings.