Chapter 30
Deep within the bowels of the massive, black-glass structure affectionately known as Crypto City, Jonathan Riles leaned back in his executive chair, surveying the others assembled around the small conference table. He was a stocky man, ex-navy football star, Rhodes Scholar, number one in his class at the Naval Academy, vice admiral. His friendly face served as an unlikely platform for intense, icy gray eyes. As he looked around at his team, he smiled. They were the National Security Agency’s best of the best.
“So, Dave,” Riles said, “tell me what you’ve got.”
David Kurtz sat immediately to Riles’ left, looking every bit the part of the wild-haired, absent-minded professor. If there was one thing that Kurtz was not, though, it was absent minded.
Kurtz reached for a wireless remote control, clicking a button that brought the flat-screen video monitor to life. The far wall showed a map of the United States covered in clusters of red dots.
“As everyone in this room is aware, what the public is calling the New Year’s Day Virus appeared on a large number of systems on New Year’s Day. But since many companies were closed for the holidays, the true extent of the infection wasn’t known until January third.
“Another reason for the slowness of the response was the apparently benign nature of the infection. The virus just hops from computer to computer, leaving behind a small agent program on each infected system.”
Kurtz aimed a red laser pointer at the flat-screen monitor on the far wall. “This was the estimated extent of infection sites in the US as of the last report, about thirty minutes ago.”
The slide changed to a map of the world. “Here is a map showing the estimated extent of the worldwide infection.”
Riles leaned forward. “Hell, Dave, that thing looks like it has spread everywhere but North Korea. At least their computer systems seem well protected.”
Laughter rippled around the table. A satellite view of Asia at night showed lights everywhere except for a dark outline of North Korea. The country was so backward it didn’t even have a developed electricity delivery system so, of course, it had no notable computer network.
A serious look returned to Riles’ face. “So what are all these agent programs doing?”
“We aren’t quite sure yet,” Kurtz said. “One thing they are doing is encrypting data on each computer.”
“What kind of data?” Riles asked.
“From what we can tell, nothing significant. It looks like it picks a few temporary files on each computer and encrypts them. The files it picks don’t really cause any damage because they are temporary.”
“Why is it encrypting trash?”
Kurtz shrugged. “Sounds harmless, doesn’t it? The problem is the encryption algorithm.”
“Yes?”
“We haven’t been able to break it.”
“What?” Kurtz now had Riles’ full attention.
“The little agent programs are encrypting the data in a way that we haven’t even begun to scratch. Once we saw we had a problem breaking the code, I put our best systems and people on it. That was two days ago. No progress.”
For several seconds Riles sat speechless as a babble of voices from around the table echoed in the room.
“Okay. Everyone hold it down!” Riles said, and then stared at Kurtz. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Anything’s possible. It is just not probable.”
“Why would anyone go to the trouble to come up with an unbreakable code and then use it to encrypt garbage everywhere?”
“Our people think it’s a calling card. Someone put it out there to say, I am very, very good. Come find me.”
“Damned right we are going to find them. Then we are either going to throw their asses in prison or hire them.”
“Which brings us to the reason I asked you to assemble the core team for this briefing,” Kurtz said. “The virus did something new two hours ago. It sent the NSA an e-mail.”
Kurtz pressed another button on the remote and the text of a short e-mail message appeared on the screen.
NSA. You are supposed to be the best. Let’s hope you are. The clock is ticking…
Jonathan Riles moved along the side of the table toward the video screen. “What is that garbage down at the end of the message?”
Kurtz waved the laser pointer so that it drew a little circle around a bunch of strange-looking characters that formed the end of the message. “That, gentlemen, is another encrypted message. It looks like they want us to break this one, although it is taking us some time. You can bet your ass that every other spy agency in the world is trying their best to beat us to it right now.”
A light dawned in Riles’ eyes. “It’s an address.”
Kurtz nodded. “Very likely. The real message probably exists on only one computer out there somewhere, and this code tells us how to find it.”
“Then let’s make damned sure that we are the first ones to get there. How long until we crack it?”
“I would say we will have the answer within the hour,” said Kurtz.
Riles turned to the others sitting around the table. It wasn’t the NSA’s job to meddle directly in special operations. But thanks to a Presidential Finding, the special directive signed by the president of the United States himself after 9/11, Jonathan had acquired the services of a very special “cleanup team.”
The actual wording of the directive had been vague enough that Riles had been able to use it to gather a team of his choosing without the president being aware of any of the details. It was always important to let the old man maintain legitimate deniability when things bordered this closely upon unconstitutional action.
“Jack.”
A lean man, whose curly brown hair framed a face that looked like it had been freshly chiseled from Potomac granite, leaned forward.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get your team ready. As soon as our people crack that code, I want that system physically removed from wherever it is. Don’t take any chances on this one.”
“How about a warrant?”
“I’ll get the special request started, but if it is late getting here, don’t wait. I want that system, whatever it takes. If we have to get dirty, we’ll clean up later. Now get going.”
Jack Gregory stood up and strode from the room, followed closely by Janet Price and Harold Stevens, two more of the finest special field operatives in the world. As the door closed behind them, Riles had the sudden impression that the room felt a lot less…deadly.