The Code Within: A Thriller (Trent Turner Series) (39 page)

The Shop, Arlington, Virginia

CDWG DIRECTOR CYNTHIA Grayson’s team of white-hat hackers had been working like a well-oiled machine. They sifted through line after line of code as they unraveled the challenge their newest adversary had presented them. This was an extremely delicate operation, and everyone tasked with reverse engineering the code used extreme caution. Finding active surgeon bots installed on virtual desktops at one of the banks they were working closely with had been a huge breakthrough.

The virtual desktop computers were nearly identical to their physical counterparts but operated with a crucial difference. The operating system for the virtual machines ran on top of an abstraction layer, meaning the hardware for the computer was easily interchangeable. The virtualization software presented a logical view of computing resources rather than using actual physical components. Simplistically, the virtual machines were like a document that could be passed around and opened by a program that supported its format.

The abstraction layer made it easy for The Shop to make a copy of each computer and run it in an isolated environment using its virtualization software. The setup eliminated the risk of the bot communicating with the command-and-control servers. The innovation had been technology’s version of pulling the rug out from under you. The team had made several copies of the surgeon bots so it could split into five teams of two. Now they were able to divide and conquer.

Grayson’s strategy had rapidly begun to pay off. New information was flowing in at the speed of a Wall Street stock ticker. Etzy Millar had been off-line for nearly an hour, and the director was glad to have him back in the mix.

“There’s an encrypted file that we haven’t been able to crack,” Grayson explained. “It was delivered about thirty minutes ago. We were able to make another clone of the machines and run a block-level comparison to isolate the file.”

“Were you able to figure out when this is going to go down?” Millar asked.

“No, not yet,” Grayson said with frustration. “It’s the same file on all of the bots, so at least we have that going for us.” If the files had been different from bot to bot, it could have meant that each individual bot had its own encryption key, which would have made things more complicated. “It does look like the bot has a trigger that’s waiting for another communication from the C&C servers.”

“How did you figure that out?” Millar asked after a brief pause.

She smiled and said, “We extended the version of the bot you developed with a module that lets us resend packets we’ve captured from other known C&C communications.”

“When I went through the code, I thought it had been programmed to remove itself if it encountered anything unexpected.” He stopped for a moment and then added, “If certain software was installed, or if—”

“You’re right,” she interrupted. “We’ve set up several virtual systems with the surgeon bots, and when the bot reacts to something it doesn’t like and uninstalls itself, we can quickly restore it back to its original state and try again.”

“Wow, you got that set up fast,” Millar said.

“Our team is the best,” Grayson said, pleased with herself. “The communication packets are encrypted, but we can see the bot react to them, and it’s helped us isolate certain files and given us clues about what we might want to look for.” Grayson reviewed her notes for a moment. “We think there’s another set of C&C servers out there, and it looks like they need to be synced up to match the botnet’s encryption key. From our analysis, it looks like the key changes on a regular basis, and without an updated key, the control servers are useless.”

“Cyndi,” Millar said tentatively, “can I have access to one of the virtual environments?”

“Of course. I would like to work with you on this personally, Etzy,” she admitted. “There’s a lot at stake here, and I want to do everything possible to make sure we undo everything these people have done.”

Her concern for what he had on the line personally came through in her voice.

“Thanks,” Millar replied with mixed emotions. “One of your analysts had called you Dr. Grayson.
The
Dr. Grayson?” he asked. The awkward silence answered his question. “Wow.”

“That’s classified,” she said with a hint of concern in her voice.

“Sorry, I forgot this is sensitive kind of stuff. Besides,” he continued with a reverent laugh, “I can’t imagine the brilliant doctor I’m thinking of getting involved in this line of work.”

She smiled to herself, appreciating his tact. The moment was interrupted by what sounded like the beep of a hotel room door unlocking and Etzy Millar’s panicked reaction.

Kozlov Bratva hideout, Leesburg, VA

SHE WAS HANDCUFFED to the railing, but FBI Agent Cathy Moynihan was too smart to dwell on the negatives at a time like this. Instead, she thought about how she could inflict the maximum amount of damage on the burly Russian with her three unshackled limbs. Her piercing eyes brought a lecherous look to the fast-approaching brute, and it all came down to one target. She turned and gripped the railing tightly with both hands while he prepared to pounce. She peered over her shoulder as he came into range, and used the metal bar for leverage. With one perfectly timed motion, she jumped and thrust her legs backwards, using her hands as an anchor to achieve maximum force.

He let out an animalistic groan that defied description. She had delivered a direct hit to his groin, and as his massive form collapsed to the floor in agony, she landed another crushing blow on his chin. Blood flowed from his mouth and began to pool on the floor. The other two soldiers looked at their comrade writhing in pain on the floor and then set their eyes on the FBI agent. She returned their glare with a look of defiance. There was no way in hell anyone was going rape her, or anyone else, if she had anything to say about it.

“You think this is good?” the Russian with the utility jacket asked, his face hard and cold.

She didn’t respond.

“You think this is good?” This time he said it a little louder. When she refused to answer, he said, “I think this is good.”

He smiled his approval and looked to the other soldier, who nodded an emphatic yes.

“
Da!
” the soldier confirmed.

They both began to laugh hysterically. Maria Soller and Melody Millar kept their eyes down to avoid eye contact, but Moynihan remained engaged as she tried to figure out what would come next. She wasn’t convinced the laughter meant this was over. The surreal moment was broken by a loud voice.

“What the hell is going on in here?” it barked.

All three men looked over toward a man standing in the doorway. The injured soldier checked his stained teeth and spit a clump of blood onto the ground. The women were taken by surprise, since the newcomer had no accent. He was an American.

“Well?”

The man with the utility jacket grinned. “Vladimir likes to have rough sex.” He motioned to the FBI agent.

Bruce Campbell laughed. “Good thing she was chained to the wall, or this could have gotten ugly.”

The three men continued to laugh as Vladimir picked himself up off the ground. Moynihan’s eyes followed the Russian while he slowly rose to his feet. He met her gaze with an angry stare.

“I’ll be back for you later, bitch,” he spat in Russian, before he hobbled out the door.

Campbell held his grin and looked over at the other two prisoners. Soller had kept her eyes down, but Melody Millar looked up curiously. His eyes flashed with recognition. The resemblance was uncanny. Millar shrunk in her chair, appearing to sense trouble.

Downtown hotel, Chicago, IL

IF THE PAST two days had taught Etzy Millar anything, it was how to cope with fear. The hard-looking man who had just entered his hotel room caught him off guard, but the hacker had adapted to his new lifestyle quickly and immediately reached for the Beretta lying next to his computer. He leveled its sight at the intruder’s head. The man gave him a sideways glance before casually looking back toward the hallway he had entered from.

“Jesus, Trent, didn’t you show this kid how to turn off the safety?” Jack Turner asked.

“What?”

Millar quickly lowered the weapon when he heard Trent Turner’s voice. His look of fear turned to confusion.

Trent walked through the door and sized up both men. “Did I miss something?” he asked.

“Finger, is that you?” a female voice came through the computer.

Millar’s heart rate was returning to normal, and he said, “I’m working with Cyndi from The Shop.” He looked up at the older man with great concern. “I’m really sorry about that.”

Jack Turner smiled. “Not to worry, Etzy. You’re doing great. You’re handling yourself well. Just remember the safety next time.”

The hacker was confused.

“Nice work you’ve been doing. I’m impressed.” Jack offered a smile with a curt nod. “You know me as Heckler.”

Millar thought about their previous conversations and returned the smile. Jack Turner didn’t sound like the same person, but he was finding a lot of things weren’t what they first seemed.

Trent chimed in to answer the earlier question. “Yes, I’m here,” he said, directing his response to Millar’s computer.

“Great, we could use your help on this,” Grayson said. “Is that you, Jack?”

Etzy looked to Trent and was clearly concerned.

“Sure is, Cyn. I heard Chicago’s a great place for a weekend getaway.” He noticed Millar was uncomfortable and said, “Don’t worry, Etzy, I’ve been around too long. Everyone at The Shop knows I’m Heckler.” He pointed at Trent and added, “But they don’t know who he is, so we’ll have to keep that little secret between us.”

Everyone laughed.

“Did you have any luck with the Federal Reserve?” Trent asked.

“We do have one development,” Grayson replied. “After wading through the traffic logs, the team has managed to track communications from one of the known bots into the Fed. The strange thing is that the computer in question hasn’t made any contact with any of its financial systems as far as we can tell. Aside from its normal processing, the only other significant communication has been with its corporate phone system.” She paused so Trent could digest the information. “Quite a bit of traffic actually, and it didn’t use the TCP and UDP ports we expect for the VoIP phone system they use.” She sighed in frustration. “We’re still pulling down information, but since they don’t know we’re in there, we’ve had to throttle the bandwidth down so we don’t trip any alarms and risk being discovered. It will be a while yet before we’re finished downloading everything.”

“What about the accounts they have overseas?” Trent asked. “Have you been able to dig into that any deeper?”

“No luck so far. The banks we’ve examined look to be in good shape.”

He thought of something else. “What kind of phone system does the Fed have?”

“GoldenGate Systems,” she confirmed. “One of the best and most popular.”

Trent Turner rubbed the back of his neck as he considered a new angle and said, “I suspect that they might be hedging their bets with a combination of attack vectors.” The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. “We need to find out if any or all of the banks we’re plugged into are using a GoldenGate phone system. These people are smart, and it’s possible that they’re exploiting the phone systems and the DataBank financial software.”

“I think you might be onto something,” Grayson agreed.

“Can you pass along all of the Fed’s account numbers for the banks in Europe? I have a friend that I want to reach out to,” Trent explained. “It’s too early to call Europe right now, but he might be able to help us out with the intercept Tak had been working on. I think the program was called DEADPREZ.”

“Absolutely, if it’s ready it certainly couldn’t hurt,” Grayson said, reflecting on the possibility. They heard muted conversation in the background before she continued. “I just got word that the hacker who defected wants to come in as soon as possible.”

All three of them perked up.

“I’ll get him,” Jack said. “I can’t help with this computer geekery anyway. Cyn, just send the RV info to my phone and consider it done. Addy said we should have some help here soon.”

“I’ll send it directly,” she confirmed.

Jack Turner started for the door and said, “I’ll get changed, pick up some gear from my hotel room, grab the hacker and head back here.”

In the background Trent had booted up his laptop and pulled up the GPS tracking software. The operation had gotten more complicated now that Victoria Eden had been taken. He already had enough innocent blood on his hands and was concerned about what horrors might meet the violinist if he didn’t get to her soon. He navigated through a couple of screens and located the red dot.

“Let’s see where our Russian friend made off to so we can figure out our next move,” Trent said. “The heavies I had a run-in with were good. They might be holding her there.”

Jack Turner stopped at the door and turned to his nephew. “Who?”

Trent shared a look with Millar and said, “I’ll explain later. It’s a long story.”

Kozlov Bratva hideout, Leesburg, VA

BRUCE CAMPBELL’S REVELATION was interrupted by his cell phone. He kept his stare trained on Melody Millar as he fished the device out of his pocket.

“Yeah?” he answered. He listened to the caller and nodded a few times in acknowledgment before responding. “Got it,” he said. “Twenty?” He listened intently to the caller. “Sounds good. I’ll let him know you’ll be there.”

Campbell smiled as he disconnected the call, his eyes never leaving the frightened teenager. The good news was welcome after his recent string of failures. He punched at the phone and lifted it to his ear.

The call was answered on the first ring.

“Tell me something I want to hear,” Pavel Kozlov said.

Campbell jutted his jaw out confidently before answering. “They’ll be at the gate soon, an hour tops.”

“Good. You’ve come through,” Kozlov said, sounding surprised. “We’ll have the men keep an eye on the monitors so they can tend to the gate.”