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Authors: Sarah Sky

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BOOK: Catwalk Criminal
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“Precisely. Now this is happening.”

The pictures disappeared and an image of a prison flashed up. Helicopters hovered overhead.

Sam created a split screen. “That's Belmarsh and this is Wakefield Prison.”

Nathan's face went white. “Please tell me we're not looking at mass breakouts?”

“Not yet. Viruses are attacking security firewalls at maximum security prisons. So far, every single door at Belmarsh and Wakefield has been automatically locked. Prisoners and families are trapped in waiting rooms and guards remain locked up with inmates in workshops. There's no word yet on potential casualties.”

“How long before we regain control?” Agent Hatfield asked.

“A minimum of thirty minutes. The army's moving in, but we're also getting reports of hacks into the security systems of dozens of prisons across the country, including Low Newton in Durham and Long Lartin in Worcestershire.”

Nathan looked startled. “We cannot afford breaches at any closed prisons. I want a maximum response, prioritizing those with Category A prisoners who are a danger to the public.”

“We're on it,” Sam said.

“Do you have any idea who's doing this?” Jessica asked.

Agent Hatfield swung round. “Does that girl have clearance to be in here?”

“Jessica's the least of our problems,” Nathan snapped.

Agent Hatfield gave her a withering look and turned back to the screen.

“No one's claimed responsibility yet and we're still trying to trace the source of the various viruses,” Sam continued. “The one attacking MI6 is most worrying. Every couple of seconds, the code mutates as it attempts to crack our firewall. We're doing everything we can to keep it out of our system. So far, it's holding up, but we can't trace the origin of the hacker. The IP address is being rerouted around hundreds of internet cafés all over the world, from India to Australia. While we try to nail it down, more virus attacks spring up elsewhere.” He touched his earpiece. “Such as right now. Multiple cashpoints are ejecting money across the country. The banks' computers can't shut them down and the police won't be able to get to every site.”

With a flick of his wrist, images of fighting erupted in front of them. Footage showed a man waving a wad of cash in the air. Seconds later he was wrestled to the ground by a gang of men in Manchester city centre.

“We're also getting reports that WhatsApp, Twitter and Facebook are affected,” Sam continued. “Another virus is allowing people to download games, music and movies for free from several sites. Do you want me to call them up?”

“Get real,” Agent Hatfield retorted. “Thousands of teenagers not being able to tweet or upload a photo of themselves is hardly a national emergency.”

Jessica frowned.
That
was curious. The hacker could have raided banks, draining millions of pounds from accounts, or attacked the stock exchange, making the FTSE go into meltdown. Instead, it was giving cash and computer games away and wreaking havoc.

“It's like they're showing off,” she murmured, staring at the screens.

“Pardon?” Agent Hatfield spun around again. “What did you say?”

“The hacker wants our attention. They're proving what they can do.”

“They've got our attention all right,” Agent Hatfield said. “But you're wrong. This isn't an exercise in showing off. It's the biggest concerted cyberattack this country has ever seen.”

Jessica shrugged. “If you say so, but whoever's doing this could have toppled banks or the government. Instead they're running rings around the emergency services and targeting online games. Why?”

“Why not?” Nathan replied. “We don't know what their agenda is, apart from causing mayhem and trying to break into MI6.”

“The threat's over!” a woman shouted across the room. “We've gained control of the banks, traffic lights, emergency service comms and prison security.”

“Yes!” Agent Booth punched the air with his fist.

Jessica could tell from the look on Nathan's face that celebrations were probably premature. He strode over to the woman's workstation.

“And the hacker?”

“The good news is that we've kept them out of MI6,” she replied.

“And the bad news?”

“It's not the work of one hacker. It's thousands of them; a highly organized army of hackers all working simultaneously.”

“How's that even possible?” Nathan pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Sam? Can you bring this up for them?” the woman said, tapping at her keyboard.

Sam nodded. “What do you have?”

“Dozens of websites demanding that hackers mobilize and attack,” she replied. “We're looking at a twenty-first-century cyber flash mob. I'm sending over the details now.”

The websites appeared in the air before the group.

“HackMeNow, hackus, telltheworld, uhavearite2no,” Jessica read under her breath.

“All the sites went live six months ago advertising for hackers, with similar calling notices to this,” the woman continued. “Sam, if you will.”

The analyst waved his hand and a page from a website came into view.

 

ATTENTION ALL HACKERS

 

Prepare for the game of all games by joining The Collective. What can you hack into? Wow us with your skill. It'll take a lot to impress us. Hack into our website and you'll find the prize. LibertyCrossing

“This is a big game?” Nathan said incredulously.

“Maybe,” the woman replied. “Hackers were instructed by LibertyCrossing to join The Collective by registering with untraceable email addresses. They were ordered to wait until they received the code word, ‘Bluebird', to launch their best ever hacks, with the winner receiving one million dollars four days later. The code word went live at midday GMT, according to postings by LibertyCrossing on all the hacking websites. That's when everything went mad.”

“The hackers waited six months to do this?” Agent Hatfield gasped. “It was all pre-planned?”

The woman nodded. “For some reason, the timing of today's attacks is highly significant.”

“Please tell me you've traced LibertyCrossing?” Nathan said.

“Not yet. We're working on that and trying to track down each individual hacker, but we're talking about thousands of people, possibly from all over the world, being encouraged to attack targets in the United Kingdom and America right up until the Wednesday jackpot announcement.”

Sam enlarged an image. Hackers were already posting details of their feats on the websites. All involved hacks in both countries.

“This one claims to have hacked the federal bank,” Sam said.

“I'll speak to our friends across the pond and see if they can verify that,” Nathan said. “If so, it'll mean bringing the CIA on board.”

Agent Hatfield folded her arms. “Great. Inter-agency collaboration with the Yanks. That always goes
so
well.”

An alarm sounded again. Red lights flashed up on every computer, along with the words “Unauthorized Access”. Numbers rapidly scrolled down the screens.

“No, no, no!” Sam cried. He attempted to swipe at the images in the air, but they were snatched away, one by one.

“The whole system's corrupted,” the woman shouted. “The virus is inside the mainframe.”

“Shut everything down now!” Nathan ordered. “Get everything offline.”

“We can't,” Sam replied. “They're in control, not us.”

“There must be something you can do,” Nathan said. “Break the connection.”

“I'm trying,” the woman replied.

“What are they doing now?” he asked.

“They're downloading the identities of undercover agents working active MI6 cases.”

“Stop them!” Nathan yelled.

A figure suddenly appeared on every computer screen in the room as well as in a giant hologram in the air. The person's face was obscured by a green hooded top, dark sunglasses and a black scarf.

“Do we have your attention now?” a male voice boomed. “I am LibertyCrossing, leader of The Collective, dedicated to total freedom and dissemination of information across the internet. No secrets, total openness, without interference from governments and security services across the world.”

“Impossible,” Nathan muttered under his breath. “Is this streaming live?”

Sam nodded. “It's being uploaded into our mainframe via LibertyCrossing. We can't turn it off.”

“Can he hear what we are saying?”

“No. It's a one-way transmission. You can't interact with him.”

The figure started to talk again. “You've seen what we can do and there's plenty more to come if you do not comply with The Collective's demand. Release Lee Caplin from prison in the United States and return him to the UK.”

An image of a young man flashed up on the screen. Jessica recognized him instantly. He was the most notorious cyberterrorist the country had ever produced. More images followed, including one of him hugging a small blonde woman who wore a pink dress and a long gold pendant. She'd been on the news a lot; it was his mum, Louise Caplin. Next, front pages of newspapers appeared, confirming what Jessica already knew. Three years ago, the teenager from Basildon, Essex, had hacked into the Pentagon, NASA and the CIA and downloaded hundreds of top-secret files on to his home computer. The sixteen-year-old had deleted hundreds more and uploaded viruses, causing damage worth millions of dollars. Not only that, he was accused of arming American missiles and locking them on to Russian military vessels in the Black Sea.

Lee swiftly became top of the FBI's most-wanted list. He was indicted in his absence by an American federal jury for computer-related crimes and extradition proceedings were launched. The president of the United States had refused to offer clemency despite his age. Mrs Caplin, who was widowed, had tirelessly fought his extradition to the States but eventually lost the battle. The stress was believed to have contributed to her recent fatal heart attack. This week's papers revealed that Lee had been allowed to attend his mum's funeral before the start of his thirty-year jail sentence in Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary in Kansas.

“Comply with our simple request and prevent your agents' identities from being published online for the whole world to see.”

“Alert every single handler and undercover agent that their cover could be compromised. Get them off the streets and to safety,” Nathan said, spinning around.

Men and women started dialling and talking into their headsets.

“I speak directly to MI6 because you have the power to return Lee Caplin to the UK,” the figure continued. “Refuse to meet our demands at your agents' peril. You have four days to secure the release of Lee Caplin before the confidential files we have gathered will be published on the internet. Information like this...”

The figure vanished from the screen and a photo of a dark-haired young woman appeared in its place.

“This has just been uploaded,” the voice rang out from the transmission.

The screen changed again and confidential details appeared on one of the hacking websites.

Agent Andrea Lockwood, aged 21. Operating under the alias Jasmine Underwood. Location: Paris. Mission: To infiltrate jewel thief gang The Crystals.

“We're on it,” Sam shouted, racing to a computer. He tapped furiously at the keyboard.

“Have we managed to warn her yet?” Jessica said, turning to Nathan.

Nathan snatched the headset off a woman. “Code name Jasmine's been exposed. Pull her out now!” He listened as the other person spoke. “Good work. Call me as soon as she's secured.”

The hooded figure returned to the screen. “Your deadline is three p.m. on Wednesday. Until then, the hacks will continue and the identity of an MI6 agent will be published online each day at three p.m. as a reminder of what's to come. After the deadline has passed, we will publish your entire agent database and unleash fresh destruction that will bring this country's infrastructure to its knees. You have received The Collective's warning. From the ashes, the phoenix will rise.”

He vanished.

“I've managed to crash the website and bring down Andrea's name,” Sam said, breaking the stunned silence. “That's given her some breathing space at least. We'll monitor Twitter and news websites to see if it's been picked up by anyone, but so far we're in the clear.”

“And our computer system?” Nathan barked.

“We're in control of the mainframe again,” Sam said. “Pieces of the virus's code self-destructed, but we're working on what's left. We can't rule out the possibility that the virus could mutate and launch another attack.”

“Keep me updated.”

Sam nodded and fired off orders to his staff. Nathan turned around. His face was drawn and pinched. It looked like he'd aged in the last few minutes.

“Will you meet The Collective's demands?” Jessica said quietly. “Will you release Lee Caplin?”

“It's impossible,” he replied. “The US will never cave in to those demands, whatever the threat. These hackers must know that.”

“Then what do we do?” Agent Hatfield asked.

“Prepare for the worst,” Nathan said. “In the meantime, we need to discover the identity of LibertyCrossing and find out how his followers managed to hack MI6. Get to work, people. The countdown's begun.”

 

It hadn't taken long for London to descend into total anarchy: ninety-six minutes, to be precise, since the first wave of attacks by The Collective. Jessica had borrowed her train fare back home from Sasha; it hadn't seemed like a good time to admit to Nathan that she might also have been a victim of the hackers. Having her Oyster card and security pass hacked and her dad's credit card frozen were small fry compared to what was going on back at MI6 HQ. Nathan had a lot more on his plate to worry about than her temporary transport and cash-flow problems.

BOOK: Catwalk Criminal
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