30 - Chinese Chequers
London – 7 pm 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.
Alison had just located the next flight to Istanbul when Nick picked up the phone and answered her with a curious voice.
How nice to catch Nick Davies off guard.
As she told Nick what Evan had discovered, she heard him tapping his keyboard. Alison could tell from the energy in his voice and the distracted way Nick was talking that he was in Istanbul in his head. He was back to being an emotionally detached, professional killer chasing his quarry.
As always, there’s no room in his life for anything or anyone else.
Although Alison’s head accepted that was how Nick was and always would be, her heart was filled with sorrow. The vulnerable man who had exposed his heart to her in the car was a mere blip. No matter how much she wanted things to be different between them, he could not change.
As the realisation hit her, she stepped back into the emotionless mode she had used to protect herself since that day she farewelled her adoptive parents, Amelie and Thomas. It was a place she was safe, where no one could hurt or betray her.
With her mind focussed on the task at hand, Alison advised Nick, “You need to leave your laptop and phone in a secure vault in London, Nick. I know my tests didn’t find anything. But, I’m sure Alan Watson has hacked your phone. I don’t know how. What I do know is that’s the only thing that makes sense with what happened in Redbridge.”
It was apparent Nick was not hearing her. He was preoccupied with working out his next steps.
She mumbled a few words about the work she needed to catch up on and ended the conversation, sad their goodbye was emotionally dead.
Despondently, Alison checked her work emails and activity manager. She sighed at the mountain of mundane duties that had piled up while she spent the last two days with Nick. After the excitement of their time working together, the thought of returning to everyday responsibilities saddened her.
The sooner I get into it, the sooner it’s done.
However, her heart was not in the NCSC.
Three hours later, after forcing her way through the monotony of her everyday responsibilities, Alison decided to call it a night. Evan and the rest of the team had departed hours ago, not long after she called Nick.
She was glad when they left. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry. It still amazed her how distressed she was over Nick’s emotionally detached conversation. She wasn’t disappointed with him as much as with herself.
I should’ve known better.
She was packing up to leave when a popup appeared on her screen. The Game Master had responded on their encrypted chat.
However, when she read what he’d written, it was not what she expected. There was nothing about the mysterious Project 831.
Instead, it was about her prey, the phisherman.
And it gave Alison much more incentive to find him - the hunt had become personal.
As she hit “Send” on a short response asking the Game Master for an update on Project 831, a system alert was triggered. It emanated from her scanner application which had been performing a stealth scan of Alan Watson’s private email server.
When she looked at what had activated the alert, Alison was ecstatic. Her software had detected a way to infiltrate the phisherman’s mail server.
Now, I can shake your world, you son of a bitch. It’s time you get what you deserve.
Beijing – 5 am Thursday
The pilot announced it was a chilly minus twelve degrees Celsius as the plane taxied into Beijing Capital Airport, . That was cold for a Londoner, not that Alan cared. He wasn’t leaving the airport’s confines. The flight to his final destination departed in three hours. There was insufficient time to check out Beijing, even if he wanted to.
And I don’t want to.
All Alan looked forward to was his flight out. That would make his current attempts to muddy the waters worth the effort.
Security in the airport was higher than what he’d encountered at Rotterdam and Istanbul. The augmented security measures included more detailed examinations of digital devices.
Of course, Alan was unconcerned. He’d stored his sensitive data in triple-encrypted containers distributed across several small cloud storage providers before departing London.
The NSA couldn’t crack the encryption methods I use, and my passphrases are long enough that no one could brute-force them in ten millennia.1
No confidential data existed on Alan’s phone or tiger box for border agents to sift through. And because he didn’t use a password manager, border agents could not compel him to give them access to all his passwords.2
He would only download and decrypt the containers on his devices after arriving at his final destination.
Until then, snooping security officers will learn nothing except what I want them to know.
Everything on Alan’s phone and computer had been carefully selected to portray the image he was selling.
And every border agent who’s checked through my possessions has bought it.
Alan purchased a burner phone with a local SIM after passing through security with no issues.
Sitting in a departure lounge where the next flight was to the US, he configured the new phone as a hotspot for his tiger box. Alan refused to let Z use a plane’s inflight WiFi service.
If I do and my pursuers discover my flights, it could help Cyber-Bitch track me.
lul logged into his VPN and checked his chat with Abaddon. He was chagrined to see Abaddon had replied fourteen hours earlier. If he’d checked the chat during his short stopover in Istanbul, he would’ve known then.
Abaddon’s reply was not helpful either.
wot do u wantlul succinctly explained his predicament with Action Man and Cyber Bitch. He was obscure with how he referenced Project 831, preferring not to call it by name. He merely wrote:
have top-secret files CIA desperate to keep under wraps After sending his response to Abaddon, Z checked the email account he’d set up for Action Man’s computer to transmit its daily location to. The only email entry showed the CIA agent was still in London.
So far, so good. By the time they realise I’ve gone, I’ll be settled into my new life. Best of luck finding me then, Action Man!
Alan checked his watch.
He had thirty minutes before boarding the next flight. It was sufficient time to accomplish what he needed to do.
Unfortunately, I was rushed in Istanbul because the transfer window between flights was too short.
After locating a bathroom with dual entries, Alan went inside.
It only took a few minutes to complete the specific change he’d prepared. Leaving his dark jacket on a hook for someone else, he stepped out through the other entrance sporting his new look. It was better than the few superficial changes he speedily made in Istanbul.
Though it’s nice to wear spectacles again instead of those annoying contact lenses.
He was tempted to try wearing the socks he’d bought from the duty-free shop.
However, as soon as he removed them from the packaging, he felt that familiar gag reflex. Disgustedly, he threw them in the bin on his way out.
A few minutes later, a bald, wiry man wearing a pair of funky, rimless prescription glasses and well-disguised high-platform shoes dropped an erased mobile phone into a nearby bin.
He then boarded the next flight departing from Beijing.
After settling into his first-class seat, he cheerfully accepted a glass of champagne from the perfectly attired young man attending the flight’s elite. He enjoyed a long sip, confident he had covered all his bases.
How was I to know Abaddon was communicating with another well-known black hat who had asked Abaddon for information on a CIA project called 831?3
Sitting contentedly on the plane, Alan remained unaware that lul’s chat with Abaddon had received a new message, a response that would shake him to the core.
As the plane taxied down the runway, all Alan knew was that he had made a great escape. It was especially gratifying to hear the captain welcoming everyone aboard the eleven-hour flight that would carry Alan to his new home.
Thanks for reading my online serial. I hope you enjoyed this chapter enough to click the heart-shaped LIKE button below. And if you have any suggestions to help make it better or you simply want to encourage me as a storyteller (either would be appreciated), please leave a comment.In the cyber world, brute forcing refers to trying multiple combinations until you guess the correct one. The longer the password, the longer it takes to brute force. That’s why passphrases are always more secure than shorter, complex passwords (that are also easy to forget, so people write them down … and then a hacker doesn’t even have to guess them).
If you don’t believe me, test out the following passwords HERE:
1. A4@b6g#~
2. Mypasswordisverylong
As you can see, passphrases are harder to crack & easier to remember than complex passwords. Btw, if they’re still making you use complex passwords at your workplace, your security peeps are more than a decade behind the times - maybe it’s time to find someone who’s a little bit current & will bring you into the world of passkeys (google that).
To learn more about brute-forcing, check out HERE
Beware this often unknown fact. In many countries, border agents can compel you to provide access to anything they request on your digital devices. That includes password managers which display all your passwords in plain text i.e. your native tongue.
Note also that failure to follow a border agent’s direction may result in severe consequences for you. To be safe, emulate Alan – don’t have sensitive data on your digital devices when you travel overseas. Just in case.
From this point, you need to keep your finger on the pulse to have a chance of working out who is who.