Rogue Code (39 page)

Next she entered “Grupo Técnico” and “Companhia Cero” into her search engine, looking for a connection. She found none.

Biting her lower lip she sent a message to Frank’s phone.

62

COMPANHIA CERO

MOOCA DISTRICT

SÃO PAULO, BRAZIL

11:54
P.M.

“Okay,” Frank said lightly. “The roof still looks clear, and there’s been no more change in the light. Maybe a window is open and the wind moved a curtain. Or, as you suggest, they’ve got a dog in there. We’re going to take this very carefully, though, Jeff. I just want you to cover me.” He reached into the bag and pulled out the revolver Jeff had seen earlier. “Take this.” He removed the automatic and slipped it into his waist.

Jeff took the weapon. It was heavier than he expected, used but well oiled and maintained. He was not a novice with a handgun, having taken target practice with his grandfather growing up. In fact, one summer as a teenager, he’d become quite accurate. But he’d never hunted, he’d never killed anything in his life. He thought for an instant about asking if this was really necessary, but realized how foolish that would sound. Of course it was.

“You know how to use it?” Jeff nodded. “Okay, then. We’re ignoring those inviting doors. If I’m wrong about this, that open area is a kill zone. Just stick with me but I want you to hold back ten to twenty feet, depending on how much distance you need. Now, here’s the hard part: Force yourself not to watch what I’m doing. It’s going to be much harder than it sounds. Your job is to be the lookout, to watch all the things I can’t because I’m busy. Keep an eye out around us but primarily scan the roofline. I haven’t spotted anyone up there but that could just mean they are good. If there’s a roof lookout, at some point I’ll make enough noise to attract him. He should quietly check me out, and when he does you should see him. If he’s really good, he won’t move. He’ll wait for when I’m on the rope or just coming over the wall on top. Either way, if he exists, he’s not alone. You understand?”

Jeff’s mouth was suddenly dry. “You really think we need to do this?”

“If this isn’t a setup, then what we need is inside that office. In ten minutes, we can be there, with unlimited access. Even if this just proves to be a transfer point, we could very well take away enough data to clear us, or at least to get the Feds to focus somewhere else. And if Daryl’s right, we’ll have the data to prevent a potential Wall Street meltdown. It’s worth the risk. You ready for this?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go.”

Frank moved out back the way they’d come until they were midpoint along the extended wall of the warehouse. He hesitated, listening and watching, then quietly moved across the access drive until he was at the base of the wall. There he set his black bag on the ground and reached in for the nylon rope with attached hooks.

*   *   *

César’s ear came alive. It was Zico.

“
Movimento abaixo,
” he said quietly. “
Olhê embaixo.
” Movement below. Look down there.

César scanned the cameras. Nothing. Whoever Zico heard was in a blind spot. “
Alguém
,” he told Paulinho quietly. Someone. The man nodded but didn’t move. His job was to cover the office. Zico could take care of his roof section by himself.

César waited, no longer bored, that familiar excitement suddenly coursing through him. He notified the other two snipers, Didi and Cafu, to be vigilant.

*   *   *

Jeff scanned the area about them. A motorcycle sped by on the outside road. He glanced back where they’d been standing and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He looked to the skyline just visible against the ambient light of the city and sky. Nothing.

Frank had the rope out and was skillfully looping it so when he tossed the grappling end onto the roof it would feed out cleanly.

*   *   *

Above them, Zico was intent on the slight motion he was sensing below. Not sure this was the moment he’d been on watch for, he moved his assault weapon to the ready. There was no need to work the slide. A bullet was already chambered. He slipped the safety off and placed his finger on the trigger, long experience telling him not to put pressure on it—yet. The weapon was on full automatic. At this range it would slice his target in half in under a second.

*   *   *

Below, Frank was poised for the toss. He looked back at Jeff, who was standing perhaps ten feet behind him, scanning the roofline. Jeff shook his head, certain he could make out the motion. Frank stepped back from the wall and started to twirl the rope. It moved slowly at first, almost touching the ground; then Frank increased the speed, creating a slight whirring sound. Just as it seemed to Jeff he was going to let fly, he slowed the motion, then without letting the metal hooks touch the ground and make a noise he stopped. He reached into his pocket and removed his cell phone. He placed it away, carefully put the rope and grappling hooks back into the bag, and approached Jeff.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

*   *   *

On the roof, Zico waited. Then he detected a slight sound, almost like a wire vibrating in the wind, but very faint. Try as he might he couldn’t tell where it came from and it was so soft he wondered if he was imagining it. It faded. He listened intently. He thought he heard steps, but he had heard similar noises from time to time in the two nights he’d stood vigil. Cats, dogs probably, even the wind moving something.

“Alarme falso,”
he whispered into the mouthpiece as he moved his finger and reset the safety.

In the office César looked to Paulinho and shook his head slightly. He relaxed back in his chair and scanned the security screens, utterly bored again.

Frank and Jeff moved cautiously along the black shadows painting the wall, Frank leading the way. After covering a careful twenty feet, Frank flushed a cat that screeched at being disturbed, then shot across the access alley.

On top Zico heard and spotted the cat as it raced out of darkness. Something else was moving below. He repositioned himself against the low roof wall and peered below. His eyes long accustomed to the dark, he spotted two men, crouched, moving cautiously away from the warehouse toward the street.

“Eles estão aqui.”
They are here, he whispered into his mouthpiece. He rose and fired in a single motion.

The shot was not ideal, as Zico was right-handed, and though he leaned well out, it was difficult from this angle to get a direct line on his targets. He knew at once he’d missed and leaned even farther as he instinctively adjusted his aim.

Below, the blast of the fully automatic assault rifle was like a cannon going off or lightning striking a few feet away. A line of bullets laced inches away just beside Jeff and Frank.

“Run!” Frank shouted as he shot forward, pulling out his automatic as he did. Instinct took over, and he understood the shooter would quickly adjust his aim. Frank turned as they ran, slowing just an instant as he looked to the rooftop. He saw the flash and fired into it three times as trained, the shots coming so rapidly they sounded like one.

Zico felt the IMBEL MD97 reel in his hands. At the same instant, a heavy blow struck his left arm and another his shoulder. The weapon fell away as he jerked back, pain suddenly spreading across his body. “
Fui atingido!”
he grunted. I’m hit. He slid to the rooftop, groaning.

“
Todo mundo atrás deles!”
Everyone! After them! César shouted into his mic.

Paulinho shot from his chair and raced out the door. On the roof Didi and Cafu ran to the street side of the structure. Didi was first and spotted two figures just crossing the street below, fleeing into the shadows. He fired.

Frank dived behind a broken block wall. “Get down!” he snapped. Jeff sank beside him. When Didi opened fire the second time, Frank again fired three times. On the roof Didi took one shot through his right eye, the back of his head popping open as the bullet passed through. He collapsed across the low wall of the roof, half of his body hanging over the side.

Just then, Cafu arrived. He looked at Didi an instant, then, cautiously, into the street. He could see nothing.

At almost the same instant Paulinho reached the street from below and, careless of his safety, ran out so he could clearly see. In the distance he made out running figures beneath the dim yellow streetlights. He raised the weapon to his shoulder and fired, knowing he’d need luck.

Frank, hearing the fire, spun, letting Jeff race past him, crouched, then fired in two bursts of three at the flash points he saw.

Paulinho saw the discharge, heard two shots whip by him so closely, he thought his hair was trimmed. He pitched off the road, then from greater safety peeked back down the street. The men were gone.

DAY NINE

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18

NYSE IPO SOFTWARE CRITICIZED

Toptical IPO May Be at Risk, Critics Charge

By Dietrich Helm

September 18

The New York Stock Exchange is aggressively seeking to manage tomorrow’s Toptical initial public offering. It has promised a seamless trading day in what some experts believe will be the most expensive IPO in history. Toptical management was vigorously courted by other exchanges but in the end went with the granddaddy of them all, in large part because they want to avoid the troubles that have plagued recent offerings.

Now some critics claim the NYSE is risking its reputation by employing a new program expressly designed for tomorrow’s big day. Insiders report they have as yet to run a single test without significant problems. “They’re not ready,” one knowledgeable insider reported. “They’ve had nearly a year to get this right, and it still doesn’t work as intended.”

The new program is expressly designed to handle new issues related to high-frequency trading. HFTs are expected to dominate the first hours of the IPO, accounting for as much as 80 percent of the action. Highly sophisticated and very aggressive algos will be unleashed on the Exchange in a focused effort that experts say it has never previously experienced. Amid allegations that HFTs are able to manipulate the price of stock to their advantage the program is intended to prevent such efforts and safeguard the trading for the public at large.

“There is tremendous interest in Toptical stock and we want everyone to have an equal opportunity to take part,” Paul Feldman, NYSE trading spokesman, said in a statement released Friday. He describes the new program as “the most sophisticated ever employed in a public offering.”

Last week’s revelations that malware was discovered within the trading software of the Exchange has shaken confidence. Though the market has largely rebounded from its 1,156 drop on Friday, questions linger. “The NYSE cannot afford to bungle this,” Jason Lim, a respected stock market analyst, said yesterday. “I’m extremely concerned if they do. If the Toptical IPO turns into a disaster, major players are this time prepared to abandon the field and that includes the stock market altogether. They’ll migrate into alternative trading vehicles for future trading. We could potentially see a collapse of confidence that will have worldwide and lasting consequences. No one can anticipate how destructive it could be but I’ve moved out of the market altogether until I see how this plays out. I’m not alone.”

Feldman makes light of such criticism, commenting that doomsayers can always be found.

The competition to handle IPOs has never been keener and by delivering a seamless day Wednesday, the NYSE expects to solidify its position as the most reliable exchange for major players.

The market opens at 9:30 tomorrow as usual with the Toptical IPO scheduled for half an hour later. By midmorning tomorrow, we’ll know if their gamble on a new software program was a wise move, or the disaster some critics fear.

TAGS
:
TOPTICAL
,
NYSE EURONEXT
,
IPO
,
TRADING PLATFORM

Cyber Security News

63

TRADING PLATFORMS IT SECURITY

WALL STREET

NEW YORK CITY

9:11
A.M.

Daryl had wanted to get back into the building earlier, but most workers arrived at this hour, and she needed a crush for her makeshift card to work. She had no idea what would happen to her if she was caught, but she knew that without her help, Jeff and Frank were in very serious trouble. When a cluster of young women went to the open doors, she joined them, swiping her sterile card as she passed the distracted guard. Then she was in the elevator and on her way to the seventeenth floor.

She was a familiar face to some now and received a reassuring nod from several workers as she returned to the out-of-the-way workstation she’d selected. She hoped no one was assigned to it today. She’d brought a few things with her and placed them about: a pad of pastel-colored sticky notes, two pencils, a black pen, and a picture frame she’d picked up in a drugstore, the photograph of two smiling boys looking back at her. The space was hers now, until someone showed up and demanded to know what the hell she was doing.

Once settled, she returned to analyzing the logs, since they remained the key to what she needed to discover. With tweaks to the anomaly filters, what she uncovered over the next two hours were clear patterns, which she was confident were the work of those uploading malware but none of it constituted the kind of proof she needed and none led directly back to Campos. She also saw how busy the Exchange had been executing multiple uploads through the jump servers, which she believed were related to the next day’s IPO. This activity, she concluded, was the new software being deployed and updated.

But there were also clusters of uploads she was just as certain were modifications or expansions of the rogue code. They came from some of the suspect sources she’d identified from examining the logs. Campos, she was convinced, was behind them. If she’d had any doubts something big was coming related to Toptical, she set them aside. There was a storm brewing and it would strike when the stock market opened the next morning.