5. Iris
Chapter five
Iris
A red light flashes on my screen.
Someone tripped two of my traps in our Alburquerque infrastructure—one trap that looks like the CEO’s files and one that looks like his assistant’s files. They’re decoys. A shiver goes through me. An intruder is—or was—in the network. And they’re after the CEO’s files.
I text Raphael and then try to figure out current status, but he’s fast. My chair jostles as he peers over my shoulder at my monitors.
“I think they’re out. But I can’t yet determine if they took anything,” I say. “I need to check if anything was caught or flagged by our monitoring software.” I click over to another screen to check our data loss prevention software.
A tall triangular spike.
“Unusual DNS requests,” Raphael says.
My fingers fly over the keyboard. Yup, a whole host of domain names we don’t know are trying to communicate with our network. A whole bunch of wolves in sheep’s clothing knocking at the door and pretending they’re here for tea. Not good. Not another attack in which they try to overwhelm our system by using multiple unknown domain name servers. I type a command. No time for tea today. It’s lucky I brought my lunch.
“I’ll tell Kevin. In the meantime, let’s follow our security breach protocol,” Raphael says.
I alert Ricardo, my IT colleague in New Mexico. It looks like the CEO’s files were targeted, but I’d already isolated that, requiring higher permissions to access. Ricardo notes that any presentations the CEO was working on were probably shared with others, like finance, in addition to his assistant. He mentioned that before, which is why I created a honeypot that looked like the assistant’s files. We need to figure out what the hacker took and eliminate their access point.
Raphael calls from the doorway of the bullpen, our fond name for the cybersecurity team room. “Kevin wants to talk to us. Can you come?”
“Ready.” I pick up my laptop and follow Raphael into Kevin’s office. Two whiteboards are clustered in the corner, but the dominant feature is all the computer monitors, one on Kevin’s desk and two on the work surface against the wall.
Kevin taps his fingers. He is a tall, stocky man, imposing, but older. Raphael always complains that Kevin has an IT background rather than cybersecurity, and he is too old-school, refusing to try new approaches. Xavier had colleagues who worked at a film company when it was hacked so completely that they had to shut down the system and work with paper, so he insisted on a cybersecurity team at Dream. That’s why five of us report to Kevin, who is dual Chief Information Officer/Chief Information Security Officer.
Raphael and I sit, and I connect my laptop to the screen.
“As we discussed earlier, there’s definitely been an intrusion in our system,” Raphael says.
Kevin says, “Are you certain?”
“Yes. I set up additional traps, and the hacker tripped two of those,” I say.
“You set up additional traps? You didn’t think to tell me about them?” Kevin stares at me. It’s not a friendly stare.
“She told me,” Raphael says. “They’re listed in last month’s security report.”
Kevin grimaces. Raphael and I have suspected the security report assignment is just make-work and Kevin never actually reads them, but nice to have it confirmed.
“Since we are still working on integrating our system with New Mexico, I set up some traps as an additional precautionary measure,” I say. That is my job right now—integrating the New Mexico information infrastructure into our information security system. As a start-up, their one IT guy had put in some minimal security measures, like data loss prevention software. But now L’Etoile is ramping up hiring there—in the past month, I’ve interviewed two more candidates for information security positions to be hired for the New Mexico office. Labor is much cheaper there.
I click to the first introductory slide. It’s always best to set the stage with Kevin. It shows how our company has a lock and security alarm on the front door of our building—this would be our perimeter defense—but then we also keep files in locked cabinets, we have passwords on our computers and full disk encryption, and we have locks on office doors. This is what we’re doing so far to integrate New Mexico’s assets. My next slide explains how the hacker tripped my traps.
We next explain the countermeasures implemented to date. The investigation has been inconclusive so far, but it’s early yet. Raphael adds his pitch to hire a forensic firm.
“Look, kids, if the hacker didn’t take anything, this isn’t a priority, and I’m not going to ask for a forensic team to come in and investigate,” Kevin says. “We’re trying to keep this location open and keep our jobs. I can’t propose that we make some huge investment in this—not to mention, I’m not going to admit to our new bosses we have any weaknesses in our cybersecurity infrastructure. There’s no funding for hiring a forensic team.”
What?
“Is there a question about whether this location stays open?” Raphael asks.
I must look as shocked as Raphael.
“Yes,” Kevin says. “New Mexico and New York have both been asked to make presentations about what we offer, justifying why we should stay open. It looks like France just bought us for the movie IP.”
Raphael and I sit back in stunned silence.
I’m about to lose my job? Can this year get any worse?
“So, when you were asking me to set bonuses for both a best-case and worst-case scenarios, that wasn’t the worst case?” Raphael asks.
“The worst case is we’re all out of a job, so there are no bonuses,” Kevin says and then immediately moves on. “If someone got in, it must have been because some user clicked on a phishing link. Didn’t the New Mexico CEO recently click on a phishing email? How’s that campaign going?” Kevin stares at me as if he didn’t just hand us coal in our stockings.
Fine. I can be unemotional about this.
“I can push that up the priority list,” I say. “I was working on increasing New Mexico’s security and facilitating their secure migration to the data center.” Which is what Kevin said should be my priority at the team meeting last week. It’s still listed as the number-one priority on the whiteboard behind me.
“Isn’t it better to admit that we have an intrusion and then leave the decision up to France?” Raphael says. “It’s not like Albuquerque is in any better shape. They grew so fast that they only have one guy. And not to be boastful, but he’s not in the same league as Iris and me.”
“Yeah, but he’s half your salary alone. The last two movies flopped, and now France is looking to cut costs everywhere. I don’t even know if they think we have anything valuable worth protecting—other than our movies.” He stands. “Raphael, I told you I’d give you a half hour, and I’ve done that. You work on investigating this, and Iris, you should focus on the phishing campaign because that’s probably how they breached our perimeter defenses. And I’d like a written update on the migration and a detailed report of any security measures you’ve taken. All of them. Even if you’ve reported them to me before.” That’s our cue to leave.
I close down my laptop and pick it up, following Raphael out into the hallway.
“Apparently we should be looking for jobs,” Raphael says. “I’ll do what I can, but it doesn’t make sense that France wouldn’t care about a hacker in the system. Especially when we can’t tell what the hacker was looking for. Or what, if anything, they stole.”
“It definitely doesn’t make sense,” I say. Kevin is normally cautious and conservative.
“Wait. Are you looking for another job?” I ask, shocked. I hope not. Working for Raphael has been a dream come true. He is the perfect boss. Kevin, not so much. Which means this job definitely isn’t as great for Raphael since he reports directly to Kevin. “I can also stay late to help you investigate, even if we can’t do everything we want to or hire a forensic team.”
“Let’s do what we can. It’s our reputation in the industry on the line as well,” Raphael says. “I’ll try to figure out what was exfiltrated, while you work on installing additional security measures and containing the damage.”
“Okay,” I say. “And I’ll also create more test phishing emails. Maybe with fake job offers.”
“That might be too tempting, once this news gets out,” Raphael says.
Raphael thinks this could be true. My stomach sinks.
The rest of the information security team mutter “morning” as I return to my desk. A small wrapped gift sits on my chair. I’m not feeling the Christmas spirit right now. I stick it in my drawer. No bonus. No job.
The room is now buzzing with activity.
Hank, his baseball cap on backwards, stops by my desk. “I heard New Mexico was hacked. So much for Raphael saying you were one of the best. He should’ve assigned the integration to me.”
Just brilliant . Instead of being concerned about our company security, he’s happy I failed. But then, Hank was hired by Colby as a favor in return for the use of his father’s apartment for a shoot. Apparently, Hank’s dad said that Hank spends so much time glued to screens that there must be some useful computer skills he can learn. Unfortunately, we were the ones who had to teach him.
“It’s always a question of when, not if.” I nibble on my thumbnail.
I work on putting in additional controls and shoring up any weak spots. It’s a triage challenge, and figuring out this kind of intricate puzzle is one of the things I love most about working in cybersecurity. And it manages to stop my brain from looping on the hamster wheel of thoughts about whether I’m about to lose my job.
J azmine pops by my desk. “You’ve been head down all day. The little siblings are arriving soon. Are you eating dinner at your desk tonight?”
I look up from my monitor. It’s dark outside already.
Does Jazmine know about the closure possibility ? She’s in HR, so she should be one of the first to know. She seems way too cheerful if she does.
Maybe Kevin was just making it up as an excuse. He probably doesn’t want to admit to France that we were hacked—and that we don’t know what they stole. Kevin is trying to scare us. He did ask Raphael for bonus best-case scenarios, so that’s still a possibility.
I shouldn’t panic yet.
We’ve mitigated the attack as best we can. Raphael’s still trying to figure out what was taken. I send a memo detailing my countermeasures to Raphael. At least I finished that.
“I can’t. I have to help my parents decorate the bar. You’re welcome to come if you want. Some other friends are coming.”
“I have plans, but I saw a gift on your chair when I passed by to see you earlier. What did you get?”
“That’s right—I forgot to open it.” I unwrap my secret snowflake gift: hand-knit fingerless gloves in a dark green. Wow. That’s a great gift for me. I look around the room. Was it just a lucky guess by my Secret Snowflake? Seems too coincidental. The gift has to be from someone I know.
“Those are really nice. They look handmade, so someone who knits must be your Secret Snowflake,” Jazmine says. “I sent my secret snowflake gift via interoffice mail, and I want to pop by Accounting to see if Aaron has any reaction to it.”
I really need to figure out a gift for Ernest. Not boxers. I was just teasing Sebastian. His face . I almost laugh out loud. “What did you send?”
“I found him an accountant mug, like you suggested.” She shows me an image. Written on the mug is: An accountant: the person in the business most likely to know what is actually going on and least likely to be able to do anything about it .
She continues, “I want to see if it’s out on his desk. But I might need cover because he sits in the back of the room, so you need to come with me. I have a good excuse: I can promote the ice skating at Rockefeller Center with our little siblings next week.”
“Okay.” I stretch. “Do you have a plan for how to check out his desk?” And maybe this will give me a chance to talk to Ernest.
“Nope,” she says. “But two heads are better than one. And I do my best work under pressure.”
“Did you guys get a chance to chat in the canteen?”
“Not really. We talked for a few minutes, and it seemed to be going well, but then Kevin came in.”
Kevin really was on an anti-Cupid mission that day.
Not that Cupid should be aiming any arrows at Sebastian or me.
As we leave the Cybersecurity bullpen, I spy the box of snowflakes we’re supposed to hang up as holiday decorations later. “Why don’t we also say we’re there to hang up the snowflakes? We can ask Reggie if we can help him.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Jazmine says. “See? I knew you’d come up with something.”
We go down the hall to Maintenance. Jazmine explains her mission to Reggie, even admitting that she has a crush on Aaron. Reggie is happy to support our scheme.
We hurry across the floor to the Accounting bullpen. The only thing distinguishing their space from Cybersecurity is that Accounting doesn’t have a Nerf basketball hoop set up over the supply closet door.
We enter, and a bunch of people look up—including Aaron and Ernest.
Jazmine claps her hands. “Hi, I’m Jazmine. I came by to see if any of you want to sign up for ice skating with the little siblings next week. It’s open to all company employees, even those who aren’t currently volunteering with the Big Brothers Big Sisters program.”
“Is that still on?” asks one guy from a corner—the opposite side from Aaron.
“Yes.” Jazmine walks towards Aaron, straight down the middle aisle between the desks.
“But how can they afford that? We’re looking for cuts everywhere.”
Kevin isn’t exaggerating . My stomach dips. Hurray for today’s emotional rollercoaster.
“Xavier says that L’Etoile is just testing us and we won’t have to make the cuts,” Jazmine says.
“They booked it a while ago,” Aaron says. “Xavier is paying for it out of his pocket. He said he’s not going to disappoint those kids.”
“Does that mean Xavier will be there?” Ernest asks.
“I would think so,” Aaron says. “I’m already signed up because I just joined the Big Brothers Big Sisters program.”
Jazmine grins at him. “Excellent. I’ll see you there.”
“Are you both going?” Ernest asks.
“Yes,” Jazmine says.
Reggie arrives with a stepladder and a box of snowflakes. “Is it okay if I hang up the snowflakes now, or do you want me to wait?”
“We can help,” Jazmine says quickly. “We should start back here. By Aaron.”
“I’ll help too,” Aaron says. He comes over to grab the stepladder as Jazmine picks up a box of decorations. They begin working together and chatting. I feel so proud.
Ernest comes over. “I’m Ernest. Can I assist you affixing those snowflake decals to the windows?”
I nod and glance at him out of the corner of my eye. Ernest is definitely attractive in his own, understated way. And the fact that there’s no immediate spark, like I feel with… Nope, not going there. I’m looking for hidden fires that smolder and burn for a long time, not instant sparks that blaze out quickly.
“I can’t believe the company is spending money on this when we’re not even sure if we’re getting our Christmas bonuses,” one employee grumbles.
Accounting definitely thinks Dream Company is doing poorly. I should cancel my appointment tomorrow to look at rental apartments.
But I really want to move into my own place by the new year.
“This isn’t an additional expenditure,” Ernest says. “We have these in stock from last year. And it’s better to keep spirits up than just give up.”
Go Ernest .
Ernest smiles at me, and we take the decals over to the window. I liked these snowflakes so much last year that I bought some for our bar.
“Do you have any special plans for the holidays?” he asks as we plaster decals to the windows. His breath smells of coffee.
“Just hanging out with family,” I say.
“That’s what the holidays are all about,” Ernest says.
“Do you have plans?”
“Mother lives with me, but we’re going to Florida for a week between Christmas and New Year’s.”
Mother? “Together?”
“Of course. I can’t leave her behind.”
“Is she ill?”
“She’s a battle ax. She’ll outlast us all,” he says.
Okay. That’s a bit more dedication to his mother than I expected. But it’s admirable. Still, a battle ax mother-in-law is less than optimal. Not that I should even be thinking about mothers-in-law.
I stand back to make sure we’re spacing the snowflakes correctly. Ernest mostly seems to be sticking one next to wherever I last placed one. Amelia is going to have a heart attack. I move to the last windowpane. He follows.
“Are you visiting family in Florida?” I ask.
“No. We just want to go somewhere warm. She raised me as a single mom, so I like to give her a vacation for the holidays. It was so much work for her to make Christmas special for me when I was a kid.”
“That’s so sweet,” I say, meaning it. Ernest seems like a good guy—the type of guy I should be looking for.
I could give him a Florida guidebook.
“What are you planning to do there?” I ask. This is the perfect way to trigger some more gift inspiration.
“I’ll play some golf, but other than that, we’ll just sit on the beach. I’ll probably do some work remotely.”
Those golf socks might be a good idea too. And suntan lotion.
And he’s another workaholic like me. Perfect. Right?
Somehow the image of me sitting next to Ernest on a beach, our laptops open in front of us, his mom in the next lounge chair down, is not giving me goose bumps of delight.
But it probably just feels this way because we’re office colleagues. Our interaction might be better in a less formal environment.
“Are you busy on Sunday? My friend, Lily, is hosting a cookie party, and you’re welcome to come if you want,” I ask. Lily will be so proud of me for going back into the dating pool, even if this is just dipping my toe in there.
“I’d love to come,” Ernest says.
“Great. I’ll email you the information,” I say.
We finish up, and I excuse myself to get back to my desk, leaving Jazmine and Aaron talking. But not before I notice that Aaron is using Jazmine’s mug for his coffee. Jazmine notices at the same time, and we smile at each other.
I pop my head into Raphael’s office as I pass by.
“Have you found anything yet? Did they take anything?” I ask.
“Some things,” he says slowly.
“What?” I ask.
“Well…” He stops and looks really torn.
He folds up a piece of paper on his desk. “I can hear the little siblings in the conference room down the hall. And aren’t you helping your parents tonight? I’m leaving soon to see my mom.”
He’s changing the subject.
“Yes. How’s she doing?” I ask.
“She’s doing a bit better on this new medication,” he says. “You should go. I told Kevin what I found, but since he asked me if I’d told anyone else, maybe I shouldn’t tell you. I told him I had not spoken to you of what I’d found.” He emphasizes the word “spoken.”
“Now I really want to know,” I say. “But that’s kind of weird to ask.”
Unless highly confidential or personal data was stolen. But then we’d be in full-blown mitigation mode, informing data protection authorities. And we’re not.
Raphael says, “You’ll figure out the clues. It’s not urgent now. I told Kevin, but his response was…off.”
Raphael is also being cryptic, though. I stare at him, my head tilted, but he waves me off.
“Anyway, I’ll cover this weekend, so I expect you to take this weekend off. I know you have your sister’s event and your friend’s party,” Raphael says. “Next weekend is yours to work.”
“If you need me, I can work this weekend, but I’d really like to make my sister’s wedding celebration.” I still felt guilty about missing her engagement party because we were dealing with a cyberattack. It was one of the reasons I organized this wedding celebration.
“There’s honestly nothing you can do this weekend. I’ve figured out what happened. And you’ll find out Monday.” He shoves The Code Book into his backpack. “Thanks for recommending this. I just finished that story in Fifth Century B.C. about how the Greeks shaved the hair of the messenger, wrote the message on his bald head, and waited for his hair to grow back before they sent him to Miletus with the instruction to revolt against the Persian King.”
Another change of subject. He won’t tell me what happened. Okay, I’ll play.
“A bit more time back, then,” I say with a wry smile as I leave to return to my desk.
Back in the bullpen, my little sibling is waiting by my desk.
“You’re biting your nails again,” Faith says. Her mother named her after Faith Ringgold, the artist.
I look down at my hands. “I’ll have nothing left, after this week.”
First, the weird attack. Then the possibility of Dream shutting down. We’re in the middle of several productions. Would they be moved to New Mexico? Here I thought I’d hit the jackpot with Dream. My stomach feels queasy. And now the weirdness with Kevin—and Raphael. What can’t they tell me? Am I about to be severed? Raphael would give me more warning, wouldn’t he?
“Bad week?” Faith asks.
I force my shoulders to relax and roll my neck. “It’s okay. Let’s look at your schoolwork.”
“I have to find the subtext in Animal Farm ,” she says.
More subtext. More hidden layers. And a dystopian reality.
I focus on Faith and put my questions to the side. Later.
I’ll figure out the clues. Raphael left me a trail.