Read The Gillespie Five (A Political / Conspiracy Novel) - Book 1 (42) Online
Authors: T.K. Harris
"Good. We'll contact you when we're ready." The man’s slight accent still made it difficult for Barrett to determine the man’s origin.
"And?"
Barrett heard a soft chuckle, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was a sound he imagined a shark would make if it could laugh.
"Check your account."
Before Barrett could respond, the line went dead.
Clicking the bank app on his phone, he connected to the off-shore account he had given them the information to. A moment later he was staring in disbelief at his balance.
Not only had they deposited enough money to pay off his public debts, as promised, but they had included more than enough to cover some
other
debts that had been causing him to lose sleep at night. Enough to mean he would never have to ask his family for money again.
Remembering their response the last time he had asked them for money, he smiled. It was the first real smile he'd had in a very long time. His family could go fuck themselves
and
their money. He no longer needed them.
Of course, the money wasn’t enough to allow him to finish what he started all those years ago. But it
was
enough to allow him to have a little faith and, maybe, wait just a little more patiently to see if the group followed through with the other promised funds and support.
With the click of a button, Barrett wired the payment to a series of different off-shore accounts which were set up to skip to yet a third set of accounts. He wanted to make sure he left no trace of where the money had originated or its final destination. In fact, to anyone looking, the money would appear to never have existed at all.
He was whistling as he got in his car and drove away.
(May 5, six months later)
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press, I'd like to thank you for coming here today. I realize that you are all busy, so we'll try to keep this as short as possible. So, without further ado, I give you U.S. Senator Mitchell Gillespie."
Gillespie rose and approached the podium with the dignity befitting a diplomatic envoy. Several admiring looks followed his progress, taking in his six-foot, two hundred and ten pound frame, and strong handsome face. Though he was nearing fifty-three he looked ten years younger and carried himself in a self-assured manner, with a smile that seemed genuine enough. For the most part he was well liked by the media. And Gillespie knew how to make that work in his favor. A naturally amiable man, he always had something nice to say as he greeted people, and when he gave speeches there was always something quotable to print.
His mind drifted to his latest meeting with the group who were supporting his platform. The first few meetings had been interesting. They were a very educated, if reclusive, group of gentlemen. As they had explained their agenda, he had listened intently, later using that information to make a few phone calls. What he had discovered about them matched exactly what they had told him. This was a group of organized, wealthy, and well connected individuals whose primary goal was to keep the United States a strong and secure nation.
He had been surprised to learn that they had been in operation for over two hundred years – especially since with his family and their connections around the globe – he would have thought to have heard about them. But, as they had mentioned, they were interested in remaining quietly in the background. And they did this by finding people who were already in the public eye, who held their same beliefs and, they felt, could make a difference. People like Gillespie.
They had gone on to give a very extensive listing of all of the many things he had done in his political, and private, life that made him such a good candidate. He had been impressed. And now he was excited to finally be moving to the next phase.
Reaching the podium, Gillespie cleared his throat, taking a look around in order to gauge his audience. He had learned showmanship from the traveling circuses his grandfather would take him to as a child and he wanted to make sure he had his audience's full attention. Waiting just long enough for people to start looking at each other questioningly, he began.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my colleague promised you brevity. And I would like to make the same promise, but since we all know that the last thing politicians are known for is brevity, I will not lie to you now."
A few tight smiles. A chuckle or two.
Good
, he thought, ruffling through his notes and then stacking them neatly in front of him. Gillespie had always written his own speeches, mainly because he loathed people who spoke in contractions and had never been able to find a speech writer who would avoid them. He would not be using his notes today, however. He never did. It was a running joke among his colleagues and the press that there was never anything to read anyway, that all he had in front of him were blank pieces of paper. The truth would have made its own headlines. He thought of the inside joke he and his wife had shared and then quickly swallowed the still sharp pain of her loss.
"What I bring to you today is an issue that has many sides to it. Some of them you have heard about over and over again, while others have been barely touched upon. However, for the sake of time and our sanity, I only wish to address one with you here today. And that issue deals with the Internet.
"Now before you start groaning-"
He smiled at a few reporters in the back before continuing.
"I would like to first point out that I am
not
going to discuss anything about freedom of speech. I believe I would be out voiced in that arena anyway."
He chuckled and smiled. They chuckled and smiled.
"I am also not going to bring up the many other problems facing the Internet. You are all very familiar with some of them. Porn, hate groups, pedophiles, gambling and other forms of debauchery. The list goes on. But what I want to address, I believe, is as serious, if not more so, than many of these other issues. I am talking about something that affects us all, as individuals, as businesses, as families, and as a country. I am talking about hackers." He could see his audience shrink back, but he had anticipated this.
Holding up his hands as if in surrender, he smiled indulgently and continued. "I know, I know. This seems to be an overly beaten, well-trod path that leads nowhere. We have heard countless debates, passed too many policies and laws, and have not seen the results our efforts should have produced.
"Sure, we have made some arrests, stopped a few hackers. But the truth is, that every day, hackers are reaching out and striking. If every person realized exactly how easily some of these people can take our information and from how many places, we would be more scared. This is a serious issue that truly has barely been addressed. One with a whole lot of talk and not enough action. It is an issue that threatens us and our nation's security. And I do not mean just those attacks against our military either.
"You are all familiar with the hacks into the FBI's, CIA's and even the Pentagon's systems. But what of the other attacks, or the potential attacks, that could wipe us out more thoroughly than any bomb?"
He paused a moment, watching them watching him. Some were listening, some were looking at their watches or fidgeting, some were rolling their eyes and others were waiting.
"I know you have all heard about the news stories concerning various attacks. You may even have heard about some of the numbers on what those attacks cost. One good example happened just a few months ago. A college student was able to steal millions of dollars in a matter of seconds. But what about something that sounds a little less related to hacking?"
"Anyone remember the rolling blackouts in New York not all that long ago?"
A few heads nodded.
"The blackouts were blamed on everything from the extreme weather conditions to antiquated systems. Thousands of people were cut off from power. Homes. Schools. Businesses. Hospitals! But there were two very interesting facts that were left out of the story."
He held up a blue folder. "What I am holding here is a recently declassified document."
A few reporters seemed to perk up.
"It clearly states that those blackouts were
not
caused by weather or antiquated systems. But by a hacker who had set into motion a series of attacks aimed at overpowering those grids. And those
antiquated
power systems? The oldest was less than ten years old."
Some reporters were shaking their heads while others were itching to ask the question he was already waiting to answer. "It is all in this document. And my colleague will hand out copies after the conference. It not only verifies these facts but provides some other, very interesting information. Including the answer to this next question. Who did it?
"Was it a foreign terrorist? No. A rogue militant activist? No. An organized group of experienced hackers?" He stopped. Looked around, being sure to catch a few of the reporters eyes before continuing.
"No. It was none of these. It was a fifteen year old kid, acting on a dare!" He pounded his fist on the podium. "A
fifteen
year old kid! An
American
kid."
No one was fidgeting anymore. Instead they all scribbled furiously or pushed their recording devices closer, trying hard to not blurt out all of the questions bubbling up in their hyperactive minds. He paused and took a sip of water from the glass in front of him. They were biting and he needed to reel them in slowly, until he was sure they could not jump the line.
"And, like the New York blackouts, these other attacks, these acts of sabotage and terrorism are not just being committed by foreigners but by ordinary American citizens. People who, in their day to day lives, would not even
think
stealing so much as a pencil, but willingly, even blatantly, commit acts of fraud, theft, and vandalism every day on the electronic superhighway. Your neighbors. Your friends. Children. People hacking into systems and selling business and government secrets to the highest bidder.
"But let me get more personal, because it does not just affect cities or businesses or governments. It affects us. Every day, hardworking Americans are struggling to earn a living, feed and clothe their children and put roofs over their heads. But, according to the latest statistics, twelve point six
million
people are victims of identity fraud every year.
Every
year. That's nearly thirty-five thousand people per day."
He paused, looking around the room, before slowly repeating, "Thirty-five
thousand
people.
Every
day. Look around you. The next person might be standing by you. Or a friend, a relative. Or
you
.
"Can you imagine waking up one day to find your credit destroyed, getting bombarded by collectors for charges you did not run up? Or, in the extreme case, finding your bank accounts wiped? All because someone could. Everything you worked for, gone. And then, spending the next several weeks, months, even years, trying to get back what was taken from you? Twelve point six
million
victims
every
year.
"I want you to close your eyes for a minute." When the reporters hesitated, he smiled saying, "I promise it will be ok. You know my bark is worse than my bite." A few laughs skirted through the crowd.
"Close your eyes and imagine this." He waited until he saw most of them do as he asked.
"You wake up in the morning, ready to start your day. The sun is shining and you have big plans. You roll over to get out of bed and the phone starts ringing. You answer it and, in a matter of minutes, your life falls apart as the person on the other end of the line tells you that someone has hacked into your accounts and emails and posted your most private thoughts, pictures, financial information - intimate things about your life - on the internet for the world to see."
He noted that they were doing exactly what he had asked. Imagining what it would be like. They were listening now. Not just as reporters but people who were beginning to realize that they could be affected on a much more personal level. He smiled inwardly and continued.
"Now imagine that you discover they have also wiped out your savings. Everything you ever worked for is gone."
He watched as they began to open their eyes, looking at him with now somber, thoughtful faces.
"And what have we done to discourage these people from taking this path of crime? We have passed more laws. And the few arrests we have made have only seemed to make heroes of these people. We have actually become so enamored with hackers and hacking that these people, the same people who bring businesses to their knees, the same people who commit acts of treason with the click of a button, the same people that steal from you, your family and friends, have been glorified!"
"Their motto is 'Hack the World!' and our children, even adults, idolize these people. And it is not just in America. It has become a global problem. A problem faced by other nations and governments, socialists, communists and capitalists alike. But tell me. Why is this problem increasing at such a staggering rate? Why is it that the very fabric of our society is being allowed to be torn apart bit, by electronic bit, until nothing is left but anarchy?"
He paused for a breath, then two. "Because. We. Do. Nothing. Yes. We have laws, seemingly strict laws. They have not worked. Mere slaps on the wrists. When the bombing occurred in Oklahoma City, when the terrorists struck on 9/11, did we just pass more laws that stated, 'bombs and airplane attacks are not allowed and
this
time we
really
,
really
mean it?’ No. We hunted the perpetrators down and prosecuted them to the full extent of the law! And, if you ask me we did not go far enough. But we
did
something.
"But what happens to the person who brings a company to its knees, causing massive layoffs, all the in the name of a cheap thrill? Hack the World. What about the person who causes the death of hundreds, maybe even thousands, in a country like Bosnia simply by sending the chemical formula for a lethal biological weapon? Because they believe all information should be free. Death by email so to speak. Hack the world.
"And what do these people get? Fined? Twenty years in prison? If we are lucky, and that is only if they are caught which does not happen often enough. And why not? We have organizations specifically set in place to monitor the Internet. We have spent billions of dollars trying to find ways to better secure our systems, to track down and trap these people. So why is it not working? I will tell you why.
"Because we are not going after the right people."
He paused again to take another sip of water. He had gotten their attention and now he had their genuine curiosity.