Authors: Kudakwashe Muzira
“We will play the game later, Kyle.
Right now we are involved in a real death race and we need your help.” Freddie
stood up. “Let me remove your NAST so that we can discuss business without
worrying about eavesdroppers. I need some insulated electrical wires―no,
don’t worry about the wires, I have some in my satchel.”
“Please remove this thing from me.”
Freddie took out his Leatherman from his
satchel and cut into the casing of Kyle’s electronic gag. He removed the gag
from his cousin in less than fifteen minutes.
“Wow!” Kyle said, enjoying fresh air on
his neck for the first time in many weeks. He scratched his neck. “Sometimes my
neck itched and the NAST made it difficult for me to scratch. Thanks, Freddie.
You are one clever fat guy.”
“Enough about my talents and my weight,”
Freddie said. “We have serious business to talk about. Take your thing where it
won’t hear your voice. Be careful not to break any of the wires.”
Kyle carried his electronic gag to his
room and returned to the basement with a jar of orange juice and two glasses.
“This is the last of Grandma Nicole’s Orange
drink,” Kyle said, filling the glasses.
“Thanks man,” Freddie said. “But you
could have done better. We are hungry and we need a good meal.”
“My sentiments exactly,” said Jennifer,
between sips of the juice.
“I’m not a good cook,” Kyle said. “But
I’m sure the lady can cook. If her cooking is as good as her looks, then we
shall feast tonight.”
Jennifer smiled. “Looks are deceiving,
but I will do my best.”
“We will cook after we discuss what we
came here for,” Freddie said.
“Before we start our discussion, I want
to say something that I have been dying to say for quite some time,” Kyle said,
putting a hand on his neck. “President Brandon Ward is an asshole! Wooo! It
feels good to speak freely again.”
“Kyle, I want you to hack into the CIB
computer network that controls NASTs,” Freddie said. “Can you do that?”
Kyle’s eyes bulged. “I have never done
something that big. Most of my hacking has been small-time... getting free
memberships into blogs, accessing movie sites... The thought of hacking the
government’s computers crossed my mind many times but I chickened out. I wanted
to get into the CIB’s computers and steal airtime for my NAST but I chickened
out when I thought about the firing squad.”
“But can you do it?”
“It’s possible,” Kyle said. “But it’s
very difficult because this is a GSM network. If it was a Wi-Fi network, I woud
hack it in no time. What do you hope to achieve by hacking CIB computers?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Freddie said.
“I want to find loopholes to use to fight the regime. I want to free Michael.”
“I’m in,” Kyle said. “You managed to
remove the government’s trackers and that shows that the system can be beaten. Michael
is like a big brother to me... I will do anything to save him.”
“I knew you would say that,” Freddie
said. “Let’s get started.”
“I’m starving,” Jennifer said. “Can we
cook first?”
“Kyle, do you have some food in the
kitchen?”
“Yes Freddie. There is plenty of food in
the fridge. Most of it is from Grandma Nicole’s time, but I think it will do
for two hungry people from the jungle.”
“Let’s show Jennifer to the kitchen.”
Freddie and his cousin led Jennifer to
the kitchen. The room was a total mess. Grandma Nicole’s death seemed like ages
ago. The only trace of the old woman was her picture. Fruit flies hovered over
the dirty dishes that filled the sink. The floor was littered with bread
crumbs. Spiders had spun webs in all corners of the room, lying in wait for the
abundant fruit flies.
“Grandma Nicole must be turning in her
grave,” Freddie said as he looked at the mess.
“Here is some rice and I think there is
some chicken, fish and bacon in the freezer,” Kyle said.
“Make the best of what you find in
here,” Freddie told Jennifer. “Kyle and I are going back to the basement.”
“You got yourself a beautiful girl,” Kyle
said when they were in the basement. “Tiffany’s heart will break into mince
meat when she sees you with her.”
“Tiffany and I are history. She made her
choice.” Freddie walked to Kyle’s computer. “So what’s the strategy?”
“NASTs are connected to the CIB server
by TD Communications’ cellular network.” Kyle explained. “NASTs are like
subscribers and the CIB is like the service provider.”
“Nonsense! What service are they
providing us?”
“It’s just an analogy, Freddie. We are
going to try sniffing.”
“Kyle, I’m not a geek,” Freddie
protested. “What’s sniffing?”
“Sniffing is more like eavesdropping on
a network. We will try to intercept network packets from the CIB computers to
my NAST and network packets from my NAST to the CIB computers.”
“And if we manage to do that?”
“It’s a long process.” Kyle felt as if he
was explaining calculus to an illiterate. “I don’t know how to explain it in
layman’s terms. Our aim is to crack the encryption used to encipher packets
transmitted between the CIB computers and the NAST. And this is not easy
because GSM and GPRS networks generally have strong encryption.”
“And if we crack the encryption we are
in the CIB computers?”
“Cracking the encryption will give us
valuable information about our target. After cracking the encryption we have to
do a lot before we can get into the CIB computers. We also have to hide our
true identity by what we call spoofing.” When he said
what we call,
he
sounded as if he was one of the founding fathers of hacking. “After that we do
what we call active scanning, which―”
“Thanks for the lecture.” Freddie
winced. “Just do your thing. I have heard enough hacker’s jargon for a day. I
hope we succeed for Michael’s sake.”
“I can’t guarantee anything.” He bit his
lip. “The network belongs to the government and the government sometimes
mismanages its parastatals. I hope someone in the CIB or in TD Communications
failed to do his job.” He clasped his hands together. “NASP is a new program
and that is in our favor. Maybe the CIB hasn’t finished scanning the system for
loopholes. There is only one way to tell.”
“The regime is inefficient in everything
but security matters. I hope this time they were lax.”
“We will use my laptop to hack.”
“What’s wrong with the desktop?”
“Nothing. I just prefer my laptop.” What
Kyle didn’t tell Freddie was that his desktop contained all his personal files
and he feared that if he used it to hack, his targets could hack back and access
his personal files. A hacker himself, he knew the dangers of hacking and he didn’t
connect his desktop to any network. No one could hack into a standalone
computer. He also preferred the laptop because it was portable. He had loaded
the laptop with his favorite intrusion software, network analyzers and password
crackers.
“So you are going to wait near your NAST
and hope it transmits or receives data?” Freddie asked, wishing hacking was as
easy as it was in movies.
“No. We shall stimulate communication
between the NAST and the CIB server.”
“How?”
“It’s simple. By constantly moving the NAST,
speaking into it, checking its balance and even putting airtime into it. When
the NAST changes position, it communicates with the CIB server to notify it of
the change of position. When I speak near my NAST, there is communication
between it and the CIB server. Whe―”
“I get it. When you check balance or put
airtime into your NAST, there is traffic between it and the cell towers.”
“Yes. We will try to capture data
packets travelling between the NAST and the cell towers.”
“I pray to God we succeed,” Freddie
said, shuddering as he thought about those he had left on death row.
“It will be a long process,” Kyle
warned. “We will need lots of the data packets to succeed. I downloaded some GSM
and GPRS algorithms a few months ago. The algorithms used to be secret but they
were cracked by reverse engineering by a guy from―”
“If you are thinking aloud, that’s fine,
but if you are talking to me, please don’t talk about algorithms,” Freddie
said, waving his hands. “I don’t understand any of that stuff and I don’t want
to understand it. Get your NAST and start hacking.”
Kyle went to his room and returned with
his electronic gag. “Your girl is at it,” he said. “The house is full of the
smell of nice home cooking.”
Freddie’s mouth watered. “It’s a long
time since I ate a home-cooked meal.”
Before he ran his favorite network
analyzing software on his laptop, Kyle connected a USB radio with an external
antenna to increase the laptop’s listening ability
“What’s that wooden box?” Freddie asked,
pointing at the USB radio.
“I made it myself,” Kyle said proudly.
“It’s a device to intercept packets.”
“Mind what you say now that your tracker
is near you,” Freddie warned.
“Okay cousin, I will mind my language.”
His computer bleeped. “We are getting some packets,” he said, pointing at a
window that displayed the captured packets. “But these packets are not coming
from our friends.”
“How can you tell?”
Kyle pointed at the laptop’s screen.
“The top panel of the window shows info about the source. I know this source. I
dealt with it before… it’s Wi-Fi. Cellular carrier waves have a lower frequency
than Wi-Fi carrier waves, so I have to lower the frequency of my sniffer.” He
adjusted the radio frequency for half a minute and punched the air in
celebration. “I think we are now in the correct channel. 1900MHz. We only have
one cellular network in the Ten Districts of America and this is certainly
coming from TD Communications.” He pointed at the screen. “We are getting
packets from TDCom.” His voice increased traffic between his electronic gag and
the server, making the laptop bleep. “We are eavesdropping on the...” He didn’t
finish the sentence when he remembered that the CIB could hear him.
“Does this mean that we will break in?” Freddie
asked happily.
“It’s a long way before we can think of
breaking in,” replied Kyle. “There are many hurdles to cross.” The laptop
bleeped as he spoke. “There is still the big job of busting the encryption. I
hope my GPRS algorithms will help us. Freddie, hold the asset and move around.”
Freddie gently held the electronic gag
and walked round the room. Kyle’s laptop bleeped with every four steps that Freddie
took. When Freddie was tired of walking round the basement, Kyle told him to
repeatedly check the electronic gag’s balance.
* * * * *
Although it was more than two hours
before President Brandon Ward’s official opening of the Ward School for the
Physically Challenged, a crowd of National Party supporters, comprising women
and youths, was gathered at the school, singing the party’s songs under the
watchful eyes of CIB agents. The National Party had given each one of the
supporters airtime worth three hundred lucres so that they could sing the
party’s songs without worrying about electric shocks. Devious members of this
crowd sometimes mouthed the song to save airtime. Among the party’s supporters
was Danielle Wright, singing along with the rest as she waited for the
opportunity to kill the supreme leader of the Ten Districts of America.
The singing rose when the president’s
motorcade arrived. President Ward got out of one of the three limousines in the
motorcade and walked to the VIP shade, surrounded by CIB agents and ministers.
CIB agents tried to cordon off the president from the National Party supporters
but, as always, some overzealous party women found their way through the cordon
and spread pieces of cloths in the president’s path. As much as they wanted to,
the CIB agents could not use force against the Women’s Brigade, the president’s
favorite branch of the National Party. Smiling with delight, Brandon Ward
stepped over the pieces of cloth as he walked towards the VIP shade. The
supreme leader loved his party’s women more than the men. They sang for him,
they danced for him and when necessary, they slept with him. The agents watched
with disgust as more women crossed the cordon to dance near the president. Brandon
Ward stopped, looking at the dancers. He was one of those men who like women
with big buttocks and there were some big backsides among the dancers.
The first lady couldn’t help feeling
jealous as she watched her husband feasting his eyes on the dancers. She knew
how much he enjoyed watching women shake their backsides. He always made her
dance for him in their bedroom before they made love. Brandon Ward fell in love
with her when he saw her dancing at a National Party rally and she feared
another booty-shaker could steal his heart. She was relieved to note that none
of today’s dancers were young.
He won’t fall in love with any these
grandmas,
she thought, smoothing her skirt, comparing herself with the
dancing women. The feel of her hips and backside stretching her tight skirt
reassured her that she was much more voluptuous than any of these dancers.
I
have more ass-ets than these bitches.