The Mandarin Code (21 page)

Canberra

Seven black letters. A shadow from the past now branded on the nation's soul. Vietnam.

Harry Dunkley slowed as he passed the monument to a decade-long struggle that marked the moment when folk, young and old, began to lose faith in government.

His LandCruiser lumbered north on Anzac Parade, late in the morning. Three bronze diggers, dressed in their combat kit, stood amid a stand of poles representing the dead from another Asian conflict. Korea.

He looked back to the road. Straight ahead, the striking facade of the Australian War Memorial drew close, its copper-green dome set against the moss-and-emerald forest of Mt Ainslie.

What is it about this shrine to the dead that I find so compelling?

The reporter had spent countless hours at the Memorial absorbing the tragic history of a young nation that had lost too many to the horrors of war. It never failed to move him.

Charles Dancer had called again and asked that they meet in the First World War gallery, just off the main entrance. When Dunkley arrived Dancer was contemplating a white landing boat, scarred with bullet holes from the day it approached the beach at Gallipoli.

‘Imagine it, Harry . . .' Dancer tried to conjure up century-old spirits. ‘The boys in this open boat. And they were boys. The hellfire raining down on them. The noise. Friends dying around them. Yet they go on, driven by a sense of duty. To their country. To each other.'

As he turned to drive his message home, Dunkley could see this place also moved the flint-hard intelligence man. He was beginning to get a sense of what drove Dancer: he saw himself in the long line of warriors who'd guarded the nation.

‘Never ever forget the sacrifice made over generations to ensure this country's stayed free,' Dancer stressed. ‘People like Keating argue that the First World War wasn't our fight. Well, sometimes a fight chooses you. And the boys who died in that war perished in the belief they were fighting for a good cause.

‘Their country, their friends, their way of life and maybe even quaint old notions of Empire. Those are things worth fighting for, Harry. Their sacrifice was noble and should be venerated. We can't look back from this distance and judge them. If they were following the wrong cause, it's the politicians and generals who should stand condemned by history. The footsoldiers were honourable men. Heroes.'

Dunkley walked to the bow of the boat to examine one of the ragged holes where a bullet from a Turkish Mauser had ripped through the metal of the hull, just above the waterline.

‘You're sounding quite sentimental today, Charles. I like military history lessons. But I suspect that ain't the reason you called me here.'

‘It's not history, Harry. War is always with us. It's sometimes hot, sometimes cold. Sometimes you see it and sometimes it's a secret war with invisible trenches. Right now the frontline is just over there.'

Dancer turned and pointed south, in the direction of the new embassy being built by the Chinese. He pulled a small handful of prints from his jacket pocket.

‘Have a look at these, Harry. And yes, they are yours to keep – and publish.'

There were three photos, all aerial shots taken from directly above the new Chinese embassy compound.

‘Jesus, how did you get these, Charles? A spy satellite?'

‘Hardly.' He smiled. ‘That kind of technology is a bit expensive. Actually, Defence finally put that RAAF hot-air balloon to good use. We tried a few times before the winds were on our side. It drifted right over the embassy site, and the Chinese were none too happy.'

Dunkley flicked through the crisp colour pics, each showing a different aspect of the embassy compound. In one, three men in white overalls were shovelling inside a deep trench. A black pipe was being laid down the middle. The work looked difficult and dangerous.

‘I'm assuming these guys don't have their union cards.'

‘Very funny, Harry. I suspect you're right. The Chinese appear to have brought their OH&S habits from home. But we've had a close look at the work and, coupled with other pictures and information I can't share, we believe that site will mostly be used as a communications hub. It will gather and distribute intelligence.'

Dancer moved to examine a glass case displaying some of the hand weapons used in the First World War. He seemed quite taken by a vicious-looking trench knife that married a wickedly sharp blade with a knuckle-duster handle.

‘Inventive.'

‘Brutal,' Harry replied.

‘Well, if I'd been in the trenches I would have wanted one of those. Each war calls for new and better weapons. And in the current war our man in the lake was well-equipped for battle.'

Dancer had lowered his voice and Dunkley stepped closer to the case.

‘As you know, Lin An came to Australia on a diplomatic passport; his occupation was listed as construction worker. Turns out he was a cyber-spy, one of China's best. He was attached to Unit 61398, an arm of China's People's Liberation Army. Its headquarters have been tracked to a building in Shanghai.

‘Harry, that building is the source of thousands of cyber-attacks launched by the PLA against dozens of countries and numerous corporations.'

Dunkley had read reports on the growth in China's cyber-armies. He also knew that cautious governments and corporations were reluctant to admit to security breaches. So people were in the dark about the scale of the problem – and whether it was driven by states, criminal syndicates or thrillseekers.

‘Charles, I'm no great shakes on computing but can't you hack into a system from anywhere in the world? Like those teenage nerds who bring down New York banking systems from their bedrooms?'

Dancer tapped the glass case holding the array of weapons.

‘All these things are harmless, you know, Harry. Here behind the glass. They're made with deadly purpose but only become dangerous when they're wielded with deadly intent. But if I were to smash the glass, pick up a gun, load it and point it at you? Well, you'd get a whole new perspective on the weapon.'

Dancer squatted beside the case and pointed out a long-barrelled pistol near the bottom of the display.

‘I'd pick that one, by the way. It's a variant of the German Luger that came out in 1917. The Parabellum M17. It can hold thirty rounds. Beautiful. You have to admire the Germans.'

‘What's your point?'

Dancer rose in a swift fluid movement that belied his fifty-nine years.

‘Computers are just another weapons system. To be dangerous they have to be operated by someone with evil intent. To be deadly they have to be able to defeat the trenches and castle walls we build to defend ourselves. Our most precious secrets are very well defended. To get at those, Harry, you need someone to open the door.

‘Lin An's memory stick reveals that the Chinese have managed to crack some of our most secure communications. Not everything. But given he was trying to defect, I assume the USB was just a taster. God knows what the Chinese have. If Lin An hadn't jumped the fence we would be none the wiser. And we still have no idea where the hole in our defences is.'

Dunkley pondered the menacing contents of the display case.

‘So someone has broken the glass and is about to use our own weapons against us?'

‘It would appear so. And the glass was broken from the inside.'

The next day, Dunkley's story ran prominently on page one, above the fold, accompanied by a trio of sharply detailed photos.

SNAPPED: CHINA'S SECRET SPY MISSION

China's new embassy in Canberra is a sophisticated spy-base that poses a direct threat to Australia's national security, senior intelligence officials fear.

A series of photographs, obtained exclusively by
The Australian
, reveals the secret construction works that will form part of a hi-tech eavesdropping hub.

The Australian
has also confirmed that the Chinese official who drowned in Lake Burley Griffin this month was a high-ranking cyber-spy. Lin An, aged in his thirties, has been identified as a member of the Shanghai-based cyber-command centre, Unit 61398.

It is understood Mr Lin was planning to defect and was carrying information that suggests China has compromised some of Australia's deepest secrets.

Officials say former prime minister Catriona Bailey ignored National Security Committee advice when she gave China the go-ahead to build its new embassy with an imported workforce.

Martin Toohey re-read the story as he subconsciously fiddled with the knot of his Armani tie. George Papadakis recognised the sign that his boss was agitated.

‘How come Dunkley knows more about our intelligence than I do?' the PM thundered. ‘And why is it that someone in the intelligence community has decided to parade their concerns on his front page? That's a crime. If they have a beef, why don't they come to me?'

Papadakis gave voice to what they were both thinking.

‘Maybe they're not on our side.'

Melbourne

Even before she'd stepped out of her St Kilda apartment, Alison Cox suspected the gods were conspiring against her. The day had started badly when her Remington flamed out. She'd had the hairdryer less than a week and wasted fifteen minutes searching for its warranty slip.

It was closing in on 7am and she scurried to catch a 122 tram. A half-hour later, she was juggling a half-eaten croissant and a coffee as she waited for another tram to Docklands.

The ANZ's Melbourne office was the headquarters for the bank's information systems. Cox was Manager, Network Behavioural Analysis – a job title that took a fair bit of explaining at dinner parties.

‘We are the new vault walls,' she would say.

A small team was under her watch, charged with ensuring that tens of millions of dollars in daily transactions were secure. She'd been hired six months earlier, as part of a big push to bolster ANZ's defences against cyber-criminals.

It was nearly 7.45am when she walked into her office and the overnight traffic flows were being analysed by her team.

She examined the summary sheet. ‘Volumetric flows are normal.'

An hour and a half later, as Cox was convening her first meeting of the day, the first sign of trouble appeared. It was 9.11am when her team identified a spike in traffic on the internet banking system. It was manageable.

Two minutes later, her phone buzzed. ‘Alison – my office, now please.'

Wendy Chang was ANZ's high-powered chief information officer, a brilliant analyst recruited to overhaul creaky security systems.

‘What's happening with this uptick in traffic?' She was pointing to a graph on one of her computer screens that was blinking madly.

‘Not certain at this stage, Wendy. It's certainly a big increase; we are monitoring and trying to isolate it now.'

‘Okay, keep me posted. Thanks.'

Cox walked back to her office, stopping briefly to talk with a colleague about Thursday night drinks. The chat was interrupted by her deputy.

‘You need to see this, Alison. It's going haywire.'

It was 9.45am. ANZ's internet banking system was being bombarded with wall-to-wall requests.

Customer service was starting to receive irate phone calls as frustrated customers tried and failed to log on to the bank's internet system, bogged down by a massive increase in traffic.

Cox's phone rang – it was her boss, and she wanted her back.

‘What's going on?' Chang asked.

‘It looks like a denial of service attack.' Cox furrowed her brow as she stared into the system diagnostics readout on her screen. ‘And it's massive. Our computers can't keep pace. If it amps up anymore they'll start to shut down.'

‘God!' Chang had been at the bank for only a year and in that time had seen very few real cases of internet sabotage. She was taking no risks.

‘Okay, I'm convening a high-priority incident team. Alison, I want you and Grant in the meeting room. Five minutes.'

Chang swung around to her computer. She clicked on her email, shaking out the stress in her shoulders before composing a note to ANZ senior management.

High Incident Alert.

It appears that the bank has been hit with a cyber-attack.

The first signs were logged just after 9am.

High volume of requests on internet banking.

Customer service has slowed.

Looks like a distributed denial of service attack. Lots of ‘bots'.

Not sure of its origins.

My team is monitoring and seeking to rectify.

I will issue another HIA at 11am.

Wendy

It was now 10am. Chang had convened her security team. There were six in the group and each had been through countless cyber-drills and exercises.

But this was the real deal.

‘What's the latest on traffic volumes?'

Andy Taylor had the data, and flicked across his iPad screen till he found the exact figure. ‘It's up 189 per cent on daily average. We're adding extra capacity but it's not . . . doesn't appear to be working at the minute . . .'