“
Remind me again what I pay you for,” Trevellion uttered menacingly, looking up at the clock opposite.
The time was 19.42.
“
You don’t have much time. So find them.”
The second analyst turned back to his screen, casting a nervous glance at his colleague who was looking equally pale and stressed.
The clock moved onto 19.43.
A few moments later the second analyst sat bolt upright and began pointing manically at his screen.
“
I’ve got it. I’ve isolated their IP address.”
“
Well don’t just sit there congratulating yourself. Keep a record of it and help isolate the fucking app.”
The first analyst looked to his colleague and pointed at one of the monitors before them.
“
Level 1 counter measures have failed, our IP address is exposed and the scrambler has been shut down. I’m launching level 2 and 3 counter measures to restore our firewall. I need you to track their progress whilst I lock down the exposed network hubs.”
Without warning a loud thud echoed around the office.
“
What the fuck was that?” the second analyst whispered nervously.
“
It sounded like the override on the security system and the doors being sealed,” his colleague replied looking away from his screen.
“
Keep your fucking focus and isolate the app,” Trevellion ordered, rushing to the office door.
The analysts were correct. The office had been sealed.
“
It’s the app,” the first analyst said, his voice cracking a little. “They know where we are.”
Trevellion quickly looked round the room for another possible exit. There were none. His gaze moved to the ceiling and to the sprinklers embedded in the ceiling panels. A bleak, fatal possibility crossed his mind.
The clock moved onto 19.45.
Removing the thought from his mind he turned back to the monitors, acutely aware his 25 minutes was up. Tate’s words echoed around his head. They had to isolate the app. It might provide the missing piece of the puzzle they were working round the clock to discover. But if he didn’t close the window the whole network could be compromised. The full power of the app, and whatever configuration Michael Robertson’s group had given it, would be unleashed on him here in this office.
The clock moved onto 19.46.
“
Level 2 counter measures have failed,” the first analyst said hoarsely, panic beginning to well up. “It’s getting deeper into the area we opened up. It’s not going to be long before it downloads to our IP address location.”
“
What success are we having with Level 3 counter measures,” Trevellion asked, trying to remain calm himself.
There was a pause as both analysts studied a new data stream as it appeared on the screen. The pause seemed endless as they all waited and studied the screen.
“
I think it’s slowing down,” replied the second analyst. “The counter measures are blocking it from moving between hubs. The remaining hubs should lock down in the next few seconds and block their access, stopping them in the system where they are”.
He cast a glance at the monitor to his right and then pointed animatedly to the screen.
“
Look, the remaining hubs have locked down, blocking access.”
Trevellion looked at the pale expressions of the men before him trying to determine what was happening.
“
Have we stopped it, and isolated it?” he said finally.
A fresh window appeared on the screen, flashing the message they’d all been hoping to see:
‘Level 3 counter measures successful, designated network hubs secure.’
The analysts sank back in their chairs, sweat pouring from their brows and staining their crisp shirts.
“
We’ve stopped it, and isolated the app to a secure area. It’s ours. We’ve got it.”
Trevellion looked up at the ceiling and the glinting sprinklers. At that moment the security override on the office door thudded again as the seal on the door was released.
“
Fuck me that was close,” the second analyst said. “I thought I was going to have a fucking coronary.”
The first analyst nodded as they both turned to Trevellion for his approval. But Trevellion had moved away from the bank of screens and was already in contact with Sebastian Tate.
Trevellion’s body lay in the middle of the floor of his office at SemComNet. He was lying on his side, almost in the foetal position, his face slightly shielded. But even from this position Michael could see where his face was bloated and discoloured from where the poison had attacked his immune system.
Michael moved towards the body, casting a quick glance at the sprinklers that had delivered his moment of vengeance. The noxious cocktail Smith had devised had dissipated from the air. Although Michael could still feel his skin tingling slightly as he stood in the silent office. Thoughts of Colette and Clare ran through his mind. Trevellion was dead and that was all that mattered. Their deaths hadn’t been for nothing.
Michael woke suddenly from his sleep, his eyes shooting open as a cold sweat enveloped him. As his gaze became accustomed to the early morning light he recognised the shapes of the mobile home. One of the blackout curtains was slightly ajar allowing some light to stream into the room across where he was lying on one of the dilapidated sofas.
It was then the realisation he’d been dreaming about Trevellion’s death struck him. But maybe he didn’t need to dream it for too much longer. They’d successfully launched the app the night before and knew it had penetrated the hole they’d hacked into UKCitizensNet’s system. The only question that remained was whether they’d successfully achieved their first objective - killing Trevellion.
For hours after the app had been launched they’d watched UKCitizensNet coverage, waiting to see if anything had been reported. By 2.00am Michael finally succumbed to sleep, leaving just Brown at the bank of monitors looking for the smallest sign of their success.
He looked at his watch. It was a little after 5.00am. Brown was still sitting at the monitors, but had been joined by Smith. Green and Jones were still sleeping at the other end of the mobile home.
Stretching, he approached where Brown and Smith were sitting. His pulse quickened and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Their plan had to succeed.
“
Has anything been reported?” Michael asked expectantly.
Brown and Smith jumped slightly, unaware Michael had surfaced. Their faces were drawn from tiredness. Every crease in their features taut from the stress they were under. But behind the fatigue Michael could clearly see the verdict. Smith shook his head first.
“
No, nothing. Fuck all about it. All we’ve been seeing is continuous coverage about the Saudi President visiting the UK and how he’s pissed off most of the world by nationalising the oil industry out there.”
“
What?”
A look of confusion crossed Michael’s face.
“
They’re blaming rising oil prices across the world on this nationalisation. They’re also hacked off because so many oil companies had to leave the region because of it.”
Michael gestured for Smith to stop his assessment of current affairs.
“
No, no. That wasn’t what I meant. You mean there’s no mention of the attack on UKCitizensNet at all?”
It was Brown’s turn to interrupt.
“
My guess is they’re trying to keep it quiet. But if we did get Trevellion they won’t be able to keep it secret. Especially not given how high profile he is now. And particularly not after the death of the former company president.”
“
I told you it was too easy,” said a tired voice from behind them.
The three men turned to see Jones tucking in his crumpled shirt as he approached the monitors.
“
They let us in. They wanted to see what we’d got. And now they know. We’ve got something that doesn’t work yet. I told you we needed more time to test it.”
Michael could feel the colour beginning to drain from his face.
“
Look, we don’t know anything yet. Let’s just wait. It’s still early.”
Before Michael could continue the news presenter on BBC News 24 caught their attention as he moved onto a new story.
“
Some breaking news just reaching us. SemComNet, the operators of UKCitizensNet, are reporting a security breach into the state intranet last night by hackers trying to disrupt the UKCitizensNet service. The details we have are sketchy at the moment, but it appears anti-net campaigners may have been to blame and were attempting to launch a virus against the network.”
The presenter paused as his producer gave him some more information through his earpiece.
“
I gather we can go over to our reporter, Becky Collins, who’s outside the SemComNet headquarters now. Becky, what can you tell us?”
The five men in the mobile home fell silent, watching expectantly as the pictures on the screen moved from the BBC studio to the outside broadcast. An attractive brunette in a smart pin-striped suit stood under an umbrella. The perimeter fence to SemComNet loomed up behind her.
“
The latest news we’ve got is that at about 8pm last night hackers did in fact breach the UKCitizensNet system with the intention of launching a virus that would have affected UKCitizensNet outputs. We gather they were unsuccessful. But to give us the exact scale of the damage is new SemComNet President, Vincent Trevellion.”
Michael felt his legs beginning to weaken as the camera panned round from the attractive reporter to where Trevellion stood in his crisp Armani suit. His expression was as impassive as ever. Without looking at the camera, his attention focused on the reporter as he answered the questions put to him.
“
I’m pleased to report that despite a security breach the damage to UKCitizensNet was minimal and didn’t result in any downtime. We’re currently reviewing our security protocols to ensure this doesn’t happen again. I’m confident UKCitizensNet will remain unaffected.
“
At this stage do you have any idea who the hackers were? Could this be yet more work of anti-net campaigners? After all they have targeted companies like yours in the past.”
The four men in the mobile home all looked towards Michael at this mention. But his gaze was firmly on the screen, studying every movement Trevellion made.
“
We certainly haven’t ruled it out,” Trevellion continued. “It’s too early to say at this point. But rest assured, whoever is responsible for this crime will be caught and brought to justice. We will help the police in any way we can.”
Michael began to feel his hatred rise up in him. How dare Trevellion, of all people, speak of justice.
Where’s the justice for Colette and Clare?
Or for David Langley?
Where’s the justice for Davey Wilkes who’s been wrongly accused of their murders?
“
Turn him off,” Michael finally said, sinking down on the sofa, tears of desperation welling up in his eyes.
Smith turned the sound down on the screen as the picture moved back from the SemComNet headquarters, returning to the news presenter in the studio. He watched as Michael sat pathetically, head in his hands. Jones was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.
“
OK, so we didn’t get him this time. It doesn’t mean we can’t find another way into UKCitizensNet and go after Trevellion again. Whilst we’re all here Trevellion isn’t going to be safe.”
Michael looked up from where he had slumped, derision in his eyes.
“
Trevellion isn’t safe?” he said scornfully. “Who is the one working for a state-of-the-art company in an Armani suit? And who are the ones living in a shithole in the middle of an abandoned caravan park? Are you really telling me Trevellion has anything to worry about from us? He’s untouchable. No one believes us anyway. What can the five of us really do against him, against UKCitizensNet? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Smith looked down at the floor, powerless to argue with anything Michael had just said. It was Brown who took up the challenge of trying to instill hope into their situation.
“
Look Michael, we all knew more testing and development was needed on what you brought us. We took a chance by releasing the app early and it didn’t work. It doesn’t mean we can’t get it working given a bit more time.”
Michael sank back in the chair despondently, shaking his head as Brown continued.
“
There is one thing we haven’t fully explored because we’d always assumed any attack would be on SemComNet.”
“
And what’s that?” Michael said quietly.
“
In the code of the app is an uncompleted handler for wireless deployment. It’s far and away the most complex element of the whole thing, which is probably why it’s not complete. If we can get that working then we don’t have to target Trevellion at SemComNet alone.”
“
Go on,” Michael replied.
“
Look, every piece of technology we use these days is networked. Mobile phones, handheld devices, iPods, SatNavs. Even your fucking television. If we can send this app to a wireless device Trevellion isn’t safe anywhere, so long as we know where he is and can isolate his IP addresses.”