CHAPTER 24 Code Word Evil
Code Word: Evil
You know when you were five or six, and you went to a new playground for the first time, and it turned out that they had a twisty slide, a tire swing, and a merry-go-round?
That’s sort of what I’m like the first time I access a new system.
The adrenaline starts pumping, my heart jumps with joy at the technological twisty slides: firewalls, encryption, passwords, security blockers, antihacker detection programs …
just thinking about it made me giddy, and there I was, fingers flying across the laptop keys, working my way around this barrier and that with the grace and artistic precision of an Olympic figure skater.
Of all the things I’ve ever done, hacking is seriously the only one that could even possibly make me think in skating metaphors.
“What’s that do?” Bubbles asked, leaning toward me and scrunching her nose up at the screen.
“That” was my refiguring the security settings on the wireless network.
They’d set it up with double-sided protection—you weren’t supposed to be able to file share, and you definitely weren’t supposed to be able to poke around someone else’s hard drive, but after I’d convinced the system that I, and not someone whose username was GSeymor5, was the network administrator, those settings were easily changed.
I turned on some quality one-way file sharing, meaning that all of the computers could share information with me, but I couldn’t share with any of the others, and none of them could share with each other.
I could tell you how I did this, but then I’d have to kill you.
Honestly, though, I lie—I probably couldn’t tell you how I did this.
I just did. I was in the zone. I was unstoppable.
I ran a scan on each of the four hard drives belonging to Infotech executives, searching for encrypted files and the type of program they would have needed to hack a secure government database.
Not that I was intimately familiar with that kind of program or anything.
I certainly hadn’t written several of my own.
I concentrated on what I had to do. I’d had it banged into my head over and over again—first by the Big Guys, then by Brooke, and at least five times by Chloe on the way here: find the program Infotech had used to implement the hacks, confirming the Big Guys’ hypothesis that they were the guilty party; get copies of any and all files they’d managed to steal; and then do everything I could to completely and utterly cripple their system.
It was a three-pronged attack, and in my own special Toby way, I was multitasking and laying the groundwork for all three prongs at once.
I could have done it faster with my own computer, but despite the fact that it had a glittery finish, the Squad-issued laptop came equipped with a variety of hacking programs almost as good as ones I’d written myself.
Apparently, the previous hacker, whoever she was, hadn’t been a complete imbecile.
The computer made a happy beeping sound as it located a program that fit the parameters I’d been searching for.
It was impossible to tell anything about it at first glance, but based on file size and the basic configuration, all of my hacker instincts were telling me that this was the evidence I’d been looking for.
I convinced the computer to scan for encrypted files tagged with the program-specific document tag, and a few minutes later, the results came absolutely pouring in.
“Bingo.” As the names of the encrypted files started popping up on my computer, I couldn’t help but gloat audibly.
Find the program used to initiate the hack? Check.
Locate any and all files related to the information acquired in the hacks? Check.
Download those files? It would take some time, but I was willing to give myself a preemptive check on that one, too.
“Bingo!” Lucy echoed my victory cry. Then she turned around and cocked her head to one side. “What bingo?”
“Encrypted files,” I said. “Tons of them, actually.”
I paused. I hadn’t counted on there being this many.
As the file names piled up, I bit the inside of my lip.
Depending on whether or not they used a different encryption on each file, this could take some serious time to go through.
What if I was wrong? What if the program I’d identified had nothing to do with the hack? What if …
“Problem?” Chloe asked.
Normally, I might have taken offense at the tone, but I was still in hacker mode. My mind was racing to find solutions, not paying any mind to Chloe’s bitquo.
“There could be a problem,” I said. “But I’ve got it covered. I’m widening my download to include all of the encrypted files, on the assumption that if these guys have been stealing classified information, they’re not going to leave it in their system unprotected.”
Unfortunately, from what I was reading on the screen, it looked like nearly all of the system’s files were encrypted. Not surprising given that these guys secured websites for a living, but still a pain in my butt. “There are hundreds of files here,” I said.
Faster now, more and more names appeared on the list.
“Maybe thousands.”
“Can you tell if any of them are the files we’re looking for?”
“I could start decoding,” I said. “Maybe screen for files that include imported data or encrypted applications, but …”
“But with that many files, decryption would still take forever and a day.”
Unfortunately, yes. My mind buzzed, working the problem over and over again. I typed in some parameters and narrowed down the possible files of interest, and looking at them made me salivate to start decoding, but …
ACCESS DENIED.
I stared at the words.
USERNAME/PASSWORD INVALID.
“Problem?” Chloe asked.
My mouth responded while the rest of me went into hyperdrive. “They’ve switched the security settings. They might use a roaming administrator or …” I hit five keys in quick succession. “Or,” I continued, “they might know I’m here.”
“Do you have the files?” Chloe asked.
“Some of them. The downloading process wasn’t complete.”
Besides, even assuming that the information we needed was in the files I’d managed to download, Infotech’s system was still up and running, and that meant that my job here wasn’t done.
I’d been given three very specific instructions, and so far, all I’d done was locate the program and begin downloading the files.
I still had to crash their system.
ACCESS GRANTED.
“Was that a happy beep?” Bubbles asked cautiously.
“Back door,” I said. “A second way in. I created it when I was controlling the system. If they’re looking for me, they’ll find it sooner or later, but it should give me enough time to boggle their files, insert a couple of viruses, and convince their programs they want to stealthily self-destruct if anyone tries to access them. ”
The twins said something in response to my words, but I barely heard them.
I searched my laptop for programs that would wreak a suitable amount of havoc on the Infotech system.
Given more time, I could have come up with something a little more elegant, but the program I’d located would eat their system from the inside out, and if they tried to transfer any data at all, they’d just end up transferring the virus, which would devour any hard drive it came in contact with.
DOWNLOAD COMPLETE.
If the Squad’s technology hadn’t been remarkably fast, I might not have finished in time.
If the programs I was working with hadn’t been written by someone almost as good as I was, I might not have finished in time.
If I hadn’t been totally and completely, one-hundred percent brilliant, I might not have finished in time.
NO WIRELESS NETWORK AVAILABLE.
This was it—no more back doors, no Plan C. They’d turned off the wireless network. All of the hacking in the world wouldn’t get me back into those files.
Luckily, that didn’t matter.
“Done,” I said, as out of breath as a marathon runner after the last leg of a race.
“We’ve got everything they’ve got, including a copy of what I’m about ninety-nine percent sure is the application they were using to assist with their hacks, and in about another hour or so, their system will be technological dog meat. ”
Chloe’s facial expression never changed, but her body shed just enough tension that I considered the possibility that the stick typically wedged in her butt might have been dislodged.
“Well,” Chloe said, putting the car into drive and tearing back onto the road, causing my head to come dangerously close to rethunking itself on the window to my left.
“Maybe you’re not a complete imbecile after all.
” She shifted lanes, and I held on for dear life.
“Now that we’ve shut down the leak, we should be in the clear to send these files on to the Big Guys.
They’ll put a team on it and find what we’re looking for ASAP. ”
As much as I hated handing over the files, I was drained, and decided that a little manpower never hurt anyone.
Of course, the entire question of whether or not my pride should have been insulted by the idea of getting help from the Big Guys was going to be moot if Chloe’s driving managed to kill us all before we got back to school.
As Chloe “merged” onto the highway, there was a moment of silence in the car.
I, for one, was praying for my survival, as some people who shall remain nameless seemed to think merge meant “cause other cars to start swerving.” The twins were probably thinking synchronized thoughts about lip gloss.
Lucy was in all likelihood in perky perfectionist overdrive—either doing mental herkies or thinking up new flavors of explosive chewing gum.
Chloe was concentrating on her need for speed, and Bubbles …
Bubbles was doing the freaky pretzel thing again.
After having seen Brittany, Tiffany, and even Lucy in action, I didn’t view Bubbles’ freakish stretching the same way. Was it twisted that all I could think was that if we ever needed someone to hide in a kitchen cabinet or ride in the overhead baggage compartment on an airplane, she’d be our girl?
“Toby.”
Brittany’s voice was murderous, and I turned a wary glance her way.
“I know you have to do the hacking stuff and everything, but do you have to hit the keys so hard?” she asked, her eyes narrowed into slits. “You totally chipped your nails.”
Tiffany, ever the kinder of the two, reached over to pat me consolingly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll fix them for you when we get back.”
Like hell, I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud. Evil or not, cheerleaders or not, I thought that just this once, I’d give the fashionista two a break.