35 - The lul before the storm
London – 8 am Friday
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’s heart almost stopped when she read the troublesome email from the NSA.
She reread it as her mind desperately considered her options. She needed to contact Nick about this new development. It spelled trouble for him.
And I suspect the repercussions for me might be significant.
Unfortunately, he’d been in the air for seven hours since departing Beijing and wouldn’t land for another four. And because Nick refused to use the inflight WiFi, she couldn’t contact him.
However, her frustration was caused by more than Nick.
She’d spent most of the night searching through darknet chats for any signs of lul’s presence. Yet, there was not even the whisper of a rumour.
It’s as if the vile low-life re-emerged solely for the CIA’s secret project. The million-pound question is: how did he find out about 831?
Only one solution made sense. It was pure coincidence. Alan Watson had discovered a new zero-day vulnerability and developed an exploit kit he could sell under another moniker. She suspected that he’d tested it on a gambling website – that had to have been how he hooked Nick.
If that’s what happened, it was an accident of epic proportions.
Exasperated by her unproductive night searching for lul, she’d come into work early, intending to get on top of her emails and regular duties before Nick arrived in Sydney. Her goal was to be free enough to stay in touch with him via an open chat once he landed.
The email from the NSA’s Julio Estévez pulverised her plans into dust.
Hi Alison
We haven’t met in person, yet I’ve heard many great things about you. I’ve spoken with a few trusted friends in the Agency who suggested we bring you in to help, as you have rendered valuable assistance in past joint operations.
We’re trying to track a hacker who stole several highly classified documents related to a top-secret project one of our cyber teams has been working on for the last two years, and we’re having little success.
I’ve spoken with your manager and he has approved us working together.
How soon could you be available for a 15-minute video conference to discuss the case?
Regards
Julio Estévez
It was easy to guess what the case was.
Thankfully, it’s three in the morning on the eastern seaboard of the US. By the time Nick lands in Sydney, I’ll still have an hour to discuss the email with him before Julio expects my response.
She’d just finished a draft email to run by Nick that might stall Julio Estévez for a day when a popup appeared on her screen.
The Game Master had messaged her.
She swiftly opened the chat and frowned at his message.
That’s not what I expected.
The first paragraph explained a few things about Project 831 that made her gulp.
However, it was the Game Master’s second paragraph that unsettled her the most - it implied a few unsavoury things about Nick.
That only increased her desperation to talk with the CIA agent. Though she trusted the Game Master on most things, she struggled to believe Nick had sold his soul to the devil. She needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth before the Game Master expanded on his final ominous line:
i hav bad news re nick. hes not who u think. do yu want to know?
Griffith - 7 pm Friday AEDT
Alan knew it would have been one of the best dance moves of all time if he’d landed it as Iron Maiden’s Number of the Beast shrieked its grand finale through the house’s impressive sound system.
However, after enjoying two bottles of his host’s red wine over the previous two hours, Alan’s motor skills were not in the best shape – not that they ever have been.
Instead of twisting smoothly through the air, he lay spreadeagled across the polished wooden floor.
Breathlessly, he struggled to his feet. He was knackered1 after wildly twisting and shouting to his playlist of heavy metal hits from the 80s. It had been a great way to pass the time as the encrypted containers slowly downloaded.
But now, the transfer was complete.
The time had come for the phisherman to sharpen his knife in preparation for the final act.
Soon, it will be time to gut my phish, though he’ll still be alive when I do it – I’m counting on it.
As loud, angry music continued to push the speakers to their limits, Alan grabbed his laptop from the table and threw himself into the nearest soft recliner.
After squirming into the most comfortable position, Z decrypted the first container’s contents onto his tiger box.
Eagerly, he located the directory with the tools he’d received from D3vast@t10N many years before.
He was focused on assimilating his first mentor’s summary notes when a popup appeared on his screen. He was about to click it closed when he saw who it was from.
Abaddon had replied to lul’s mixed message of truth and lies.
Alan’s heart raced as lul opened the private chat and read the king phisher’s detailed response.
When he finished, he exhaled a long, loud sigh of relief. It was apparent that Abaddon knew 831 was a cyber weapon. However, the accompanying software the black hat had sent proved he wasn’t working with the CIA.
Alan was ecstatic with Abaddon’s recommendation for dealing with Nick Davies. It was better than the evil he’d planned, though it still allowed him to incorporate his basest elements.
It’s as if Abaddon knows my dirty little secret. And that would not be a good thing.
Z swiftly checked his computer’s defences. He needed to ensure anyone trying to hack into his tiger box would be detected and reported to him as it happened.
Reassured that anybody trying to access his computer online would trigger his alerts, Z installed and ran Abaddon’s program in a secure virtual machine that couldn’t infect his computer’s operating system.
It’s not that I don’t trust him. However, I don’t.
He jumped up and ran around the house, whooping with delight when he saw what the nefarious software did.
After several crazed circuits of the living area, a breathlessly excited Alan settled back into the lounge.
Closing his eyes, Alan let his mind dwell on the cruel cyclone he was about to unleash on Nick Davies.
His thin lips curved in an evil smile as he released a gentle sigh of satisfaction.
Thankfully, no one could see the depraved movie playing in his mind.
As the final credits rolled, Alan’s dark eyes opened wide.
He rubbed his hands with glee, then grabbed his laptop from the side table. Logging in, he slapped the keys with dramatic flair to a rhythm only he could hear.
It was from the song for the last act in his greatest masterpiece – “Action Man’s Final Day & the Rise of Z.”
London – 8 am Friday
Time was running out. With the NSA breathing down her neck, Alison needed to find Alan Watson now. And to do that, she had to extend her means for catching the phisherman.
An obvious solution was bringing Evan into her confidence. The young man was proving to be diligent, strategic and loyal. And he was willing to bend the rules a little.
When the excited young man arrived in her office, she told him, “I discovered last night that our Mr Watson is a highly valued target. He’s one of the two core members of SF who eluded our net in 2011. Back then, his moniker was lul.”
It was hard to miss Evan’s visible reaction to her revelation. Her curiosity heightened when he spoke.
“Thank you for trusting me with this, Miss Simpson. I hope that what I’m about to tell you won’t change that.”
Alison was intrigued by the nervous stammer in the young man’s speech. Evan had always been quietly confident when discussing the case with her.
“What have you got to tell me, Evan? I’m sure it can’t be too bad.”
Alison’s stomach lurched at Evan’s look of discomfort.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I know catching lul is important. And I get the sense that it’s personal for you.”
“Yes, it is personal, Evan. That’s because this sicko made it personal when he decided to deliberately focus on abusing women online simply because they’re women. After all I’ve endured, I have no tolerance for pricks who regard themselves as legends for hiding behind their online anonymity as they destroy people’s lives.”
There was a long pause before Evan spoke.
“Please understand, Miss. This all happened many years ago when I was in my teens. I just wanted to learn everything I could about computers. So, I joined a heap of chats. A guy I met on 4chan2 mentored me for a while. He taught me so much stuff about computer security and hacking.”
When he paused, Alison was left wondering where the conversation was going. Her uncertainty was replaced with horror at the words that followed.
“And my mentor knew lul. In fact, he knew him so well that he organised for someone I know to meet lul here in London many years ago.”
“WHAT?”
Evan shrank back in his seat as Alison jumped to her feet.
Feeling her body trembling with disbelief, Alison took a deep breath and held it as she considered the shocking revelation. After slowly exhaling, she resumed her seat.
“I’m sorry, Evan. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s just hard to believe.”
As Evan’s facial expression shifted from uncertainty to concern, she tentatively asked, “Can I ask when that meeting took place?”
“Sure thing, Miss. I remember the time easily. It was August 2012 – the Olympics were on. That’s why lul chose that time. The crowds made it easy for him to hide in plain sight.”
That’s a year after we busted SF – after lul and Abaddon got away and supposedly disappeared.
Alison remembered how she’d been busy during that time, spending every free moment with her best friend, Fiona, who was in London for the Olympics.
Pushing her reveries aside, Alison asked, “And were you there? Did you see lul?”
“Sorry, Miss Simpson. I wasn’t, so I didn’t.”
Alison tried to hide her disappointment as she asked, “I suppose your friend didn’t tell you what lul was like either?”
“My friend couldn’t see lul’s face. He wore a full balaclava. All I know is that lul is of average build. He even disguised his voice to pretend he was Russian.”
Alison considered Evan’s responses before asking, “Do you still have contact with this person who knows lul?”
Evan visibly relaxed at Alison’s friendlier tone.
“I haven’t chatted with Z for a long time, Miss. But I’m sure I can track him down.”
Alison briefly wondered if she should step in. Gazing at Evan, she decided to give the earnest young man a chance to prove himself.
“How about you see if your friend Z can connect you with lul? In the meantime, I’ll try a few connections I know. Hopefully, between us, we may learn something useful that will help us catch him. And so you know, Evan, we need to catch him within the next twenty-four hours. If not, I suspect this case will be taken out of our hands.”
“Sure thing, Miss Simpson. I’ll get on it right away. Hopefully, I’ll have something for you before lunch.”
Alison’s spirit lifted as the young man rushed away. His enthusiasm was contagious.
I think I just felt a little nibble on the line. Methinks the phisherman doesn’t realise he’s about to become a phish.
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.Knackered is British slang for “exhausted”
As mentioned earlier, 4chan is an imageboard that houses various chats.