26 - To catch a thief
London – 8:45 am Wednesday
Welcome to my online cyber thriller, The Phisherman. To learn more about the story and meet the three main characters, click HERE. If you'd prefer to start at Chapter 1, click HERE. To select another chapter, click HERE.
“What the hell, Ali?” Nick thundered as he jumped to his feet yet again. “We can’t let this arrogant prick do whatever he wants, especially not on my Agency laptop.”
“Nick,” Alison calmly responded, trying to soothe the angry beast quivering before her. “Listen to me – I know what I’m doing. If we stop his emails or remove his remote access account, he’ll know we’re onto his most recent activities. However, if we let them continue, both provide a means of finding him.”
As Alison’s words sank in, Nick smiled as he sat again.
“So. Tell me about this honeypot.”
Alison took a deep breath.
“Can we have an end to the angry reactions so I can get back to doing what I do best, Nick?”
“A hundred per cent, Ali. And my apologies. For some reason, this little bugger has got to me. So please help me get to him. And I promise, Ali – no more interruptions until you’ve finished telling me about this honeypot and how I get my hands on Alan the asswipe.”
Alison stared inquiringly at Nick until his eyes softened and his face relaxed.
“Okay, then, Nick. Let me tell you how we’re going to catch Alan Jones. And after that, you can fetch me a large flat white from Whyld.”
“Sure thing, Ali.”
Convinced Nick would stay true to his word, Alison continued her explanation.
“So, I’ll fill the honey pot folder with files I know Mister Jones will be interested in reading as they will be about him. When he opens those files on his computer, he’ll learn some of the things we know about him and his hack. However, he won’t know that the files in the honeypot use a zero-day he doesn’t know about – a zero-day that lets me track him.”
“That sounds perfect, Ali,” Nick eagerly responded. “You’re effectively getting the SOB to hack himself. So, how long will it take to set up this honeypot?”
Alison paused, considering what she needed to do.
“I’m going to need at least an hour, Nick. So, if you have a long walk before grabbing my coffee and getting back here in an hour, I can update you then.”
“Sounds like a plan, Fran,” Nick said as he jumped to his feet. “See you in an hour, Ali, with the best large flat white you’ve had today.”
And with that, Tropical Cyclone Nick was gone.
Alison breathed a long, loud sigh of relief before attending to the task at hand.
She made a new directory on Nick’s laptop called “Alan Jones,” then filled it with five files detailing what she’d learned about the original hack on Nick’s computer with the VMs.
Then, employing the undisclosed Zero-Day she’d told Nick about, she added a hidden bonus to three of the five files.
When Alan Jones finds the honeypot on Nick’s laptop and opens any of those three files, the Game Master’s custom tracker will covertly install onto Mister Jones’ computer. And then I can follow him.
After installing the honeypot, Alison waited until Nick returned with her coffee.
And the device he always carries with him - his phone.
While awaiting Nick’s return, Alison checked her private chat with the Game Master. She was not surprised to see a response. The reply was short but to the point.
ive heard rumors. giv me a dayAfter what Alison had seen and learned over the years, the only thing she would have been surprised about was if the Game Master couldn’t help her.
She sent “thx” into cyberspace as Nick stormed back into her office, armed with two large cups filled with the best coffee in London.
“Thanks, Nick,” Alison smiled as she accepted his offering.
As she took a long sip, Nick abruptly asked, “So, how’s progress on the honeypot?’”
Alison savoured her coffee before courteously answering.
“It’s all done, Nick. Now we wait for Alan Jones to swallow the bait.”
“So, we’re phishing the phisherman?”
“Yes, I guess we are.”
After a long pause where they both enjoyed several sips of premium Colombian coffee, Nick cautiously asked, “So what do we do while we wait, ‘cause I’m not a waiting sort of guy?”
Alison held out her hand.
“Next, you give me your phone, Nick.”
“What do you need that for?”
Alison stared at him for a few seconds before drily stating, “Do you want to catch this son of a bitch or not? Because he tracked us to his hideout, and he didn’t hack your laptop until last night. That means he’s on your phone, Nick.”
She saw the shock on Nick’s face when the truth registered with him, though she sensed he was still reluctant to hand the device over to her as he held it out.
Snatching the phone from his grasp, Alison plugged the phone into the custom adapter connected to her PC and launched her analyser software. Thankfully, Nick had learned from their earlier exchange and kept his mouth shut.
Alison’s program had only been running for a few minutes when her intercom buzzed.
Picking up the handset, she spoke a single word.
“Simpson.”
From the other end, she heard the deep voice of her young assistant on the search for the elusive Alan Jones.
“Great news, Miss. We received a call from a Mrs Margaret Watson in Kidderminster. She thinks our fugitive is her son, Alan. She said the drawing bore an uncanny likeness to him, despite her not having seen him for twenty years.”
It was Alison’s turn to be shocked.
“Did you say his name is Alan?”
“Yes, Miss,” Evan replied, eager to share his knowledge. “Alan Watson from Kidderminster. He turns forty this year, and he’s been playing with computers since he started high school. His mum said …”
“Thanks, Evan. I can find out what his mum says when I talk with her myself. Can you have my car brought out front ASAP?”
“Sure thing, Miss. I’ll do it myself,” Evan replied enthusiastically.
“Thanks, Evan. And send me the address as soon as,” she finished.
Alison replaced the handset and stood. She turned to Nick as she grabbed her essential belongings.
“Come on, Nick. We’re off to chat with your hacker’s mum.”
Sensing Nick was about to interrupt, she held up her hand.
“I’ll update you on the way. Right now, we need to get going. But we’re leaving your phone here, Nick. No tracking, okay?”
Nick nodded compliantly. She could tell he was eager to know more. The interview would take the pursuit of their prey back into his domain: flesh and blood.
As they raced for the lifts, Alison’s phone received a message detailing the address for Margaret Watson’s residence in Kidderminster. She put it into her maps app.
The destination was 130 miles away. According to the app, the one-way trip should take her two and a half hours.
Not today. I reckon I can nail that in under ninety minutes.
The M40 Motorway – 10:15 am Wednesday
It had been a frustrating morning for Nick. He arrived at GCHQ headquarters, hoping he could explain things to Alison to get her back on side. However, she was like an uncontrollable tornado from the moment he knocked on her door.
Her brusque ‘Come in, Nick’ set him on the back foot before he had stepped into her room.
And things kept going in that same direction, no matter what he said or did. Every word he spoke was shot down before he could complete a sentence. Even his attempts with coffee from the coffee shop she loved failed to elicit the slightest warmth from her.
I’m sure she’s unhappy with me because of my big mouth yesterday.
And she hasn’t given me a chance to change her opinion - so much for melting the ice maiden.
Thankfully, her intercom rang, and there was something to which Nick could respond. From the crumbs Alison offered him in her office, the hacker’s parents had recognized their son in the sketch promoted over public media that morning.
And then Tornado Alison was mobile again.
Like usual, Nick had to push himself to keep up with her. He had just fastened his seatbelt when she accelerated away from the front of the NCSC with ‘Zombie’ blasting through the speakers.
Nick waited until Alison had negotiated their way out of London’s CBD before turning the music down and asking, ‘So, what’s the news, Ali?’
‘It looks like your hacker comes from a small country town near Birmingham,’ she coolly replied. ‘It’s a bit over two hours away, though I’m hoping we can make better time than that once we clear this traffic.’
At the rate Alison was traveling, Nick was sure it would take them a lot less than the prescribed time from any mapping app.
‘And do we know anything else?’
‘That’s what we’re going to find out, Nick. What is interesting is that his birth name is Alan.’
What the?
Nick realized how brilliant it was once he’d thought it through.
The hacker only changes his last name, the one that counts most for identification. No matter who he is to the people around him, Alan Whoever always retains his birth name.
Many people would consider that gutsy. To Nick, it was genius. It also confirmed what Alison had said. Nick’s hacker was not an insecure school kid running away, petrified of being caught. On the contrary, he was confident about his ability to hide in broad daylight.
‘So how are we going to deal with this, Ali? What’s going on in that head of yours? After all, you’re the expert on catching hackers.’
Alison kept her face focused on the road ahead as she spoke detachedly.
‘It’s probably what you’re thinking, Nick. Find out everything we can about your hacker from his parents. As you know, it’s important to know what makes our target tick. The more we understand him, the sooner we’ll catch him, though I suspect his parents won’t be able to help us regarding his cyber activities.’
‘It will also be good to get the latest photo they have of him. Although they haven’t seen him in over twenty years, he may have sent them something more recent.’
‘We can then drop by your hacker’s old hideaway in Redbridge to confirm if Alan Watson is our man. If the two gamers validate his identity, we’ll issue a descriptive APB with the photo.’
‘We’ll also use our facial recognition software to track his movement via all public cameras within the UK. And querying transport reservation databases will uncover his destination in an hour or so if he’s booked a plane flight, bus ticket, or train fare.’
‘What if nothing turns up using your resources, Ali? I get the feeling from what you’ve said that this guy will be aware of all your digital resources and have made himself invisible.’
‘Well, if nothing comes back in 24 hours, we’ll extend the search to include MI6 resources across Europe. And in the meantime, hopefully, I’ll find a way into his email server, or he’ll fall for the honeypot.’
They discussed the finer points over the next few minutes as they raced past blurred fields. By the time they’d finalized their plan of attack, Alison was driving through the quaint village of Kidderminster.
Unsurprisingly, it had only taken her eighty minutes.
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