Zero Day: A Novel
Authors: Mark Russinovich,Howard Schmidt
Tags: #Cyberterrorism, #Men's Adventure, #Technological.; Bisacsh, #Thrillers.; Bisacsh, #Suspense, #Technological, #Thrillers, #Suspense Fiction, #Fiction, #Espionage
F
OREWORD
Mark Russinovich is recognized by many as the world’s leading expert on the Windows operating system. His tools are used worldwide by corporations and government agencies not only to keep their IT systems running, but to perform advanced forensics.
In this book, Mark has woven a compelling tale about an imminent threat to every person, household, corporation, and government that relies on technology and the systems that we depend on. While what Mark wrote is fiction, the risks that he writes about eerily mirror many situations that we see today. Clearly, we are more and more dependent than ever on Internet-connected computer systems: it is the way we communicate, do our banking, pay our taxes, book our travel, and buy merchandise. We take for granted that these systems will always be there and are set to protect our privacy and are secure. The strength of the Internet and Internet technologies is that we are so connected. However, this strength is also a weakness—these systems are vulnerable to attack from anywhere by anyone, and with little capital investment. The Internet also facilitates maintaining anonymity, on which many of us depend, but often creates a fertile ground for bad actors. As Mark’s story unfolds, we see the hacker creating superviruses hiding behind many layers of virtual disguises, which make fixing the problem even more complicated and dangerous.
For too many years, we have heard cyber-security experts saying that we need to have more security, we need to use antivirus, we need to use anti-spyware, back up our systems, use firewalls, and be vigilant about what documents we open, links we click on, and programs we execute. These and other technologies help protect a system or small network, but do not necessarily protect the overall environment that weaves through the very fabric of the Internet, touching all of us. Mark has created a unique work that is not only entertaining but a call to action as well. This is a great read and a forward-looking picture of what we need to avoid.
I hope stories such as
Zero Day
remain just that—great reads that will hopefully never come true.
P
ROFESSOR
H
OWARD
A. S
CHMIDT
P
RESIDENT AND
CEO, I
NFORMATION
S
ECURITY
F
ORUM
L
TD
.
W
HITE
H
OUSE
C
YBER
S
ECURITY
C
OORDINATOR
C
ONTENTS
MEMORANDUM
NS rated 10
DATE: | April 14 |
FROM: | John S. Springman |
Deputy NSA, The White House | |
TO: | Roger Witherspoon |
Executive Assistant Director, DHS | |
RE: | Interim Report |
Following the catastrophic events late last year, Congress and the President directed the creation of a confidential Committee of Inquiry. Attached is the Interim Report of the Committee. It strikes me as a bit purple in places and speculative in others, but I accept that this is an accurate and fair rendering of the events last year. The IR has been disseminated to all involved agencies. Should there be areas you wish expanded, be certain to convey that desire to me within 10 days. Should you desire redaction of any portion, I am instructed to advise that such a request must be made in writing within the same time period, and state with specificity those sections to be deleted accompanied by a satisfactory explanation of the justification.
It is clear to me now that you were perfectly correct in your initial impression as stated at our enabling meeting. The events that led to such a cataclysmic chain of events, events I wish to add from which we are still attempting to recover, began in New York City, but only by a few minutes. They might just as easily have started over the Atlantic.
WEEK ONE
MAJORITY OF COMPUTERS LACK SECURITY, REPORT
By Isidro Lama
Internet News Service
August 10
A report released Wednesday found that more than 80% of computers lack essential security software.
The overwhelming majority of PCs in homes have been found to lack essential security protections, according to a report by a leading cyber-security firm. Most home computers lack either a firewall, anti-spyware protection or current antivirus software.
“Curiously, most consumers falsely believe they are protected,” said a spokesperson for the Internet Security Association. “The reality is quite the opposite.”
Despite modest improvements in home security since the first survey four years ago, much remains to be done. “At a time when the public turns increasingly to computers to handle finances and to house personal information, it is leaving itself exposed to exploitation,” the spokesperson added.
The situation is no better with military and government computers, according to the report. “We are significantly exposed to a cyber-attack,” the report concludes, “the consequences of which could exceed our imagination.”
Internet News Service, Inc.
All rights reserved.
1
MANHATTAN, NYC
SATURDAY, AUGUST 11
12:01 A.M.
“Shhh!”
When the whisper came out of the darkness, the man stopped. A vast panel of glass covered the wall before him, displaying uptown Manhattan in a scene that might have been sold as a poster. Ambient light and the soft glow from a dozen computer monitors was all that spared the room total darkness. The logo of Fischerman, Platt & Cohen floated on each monitor.
In the hallway, the steps faded. A moment later her fingers touched his arm, pressing lightly against the soft skin on the inside of his wrist, her flesh much warmer than his. The thought of her so excited aroused him even more.
She tugged and he followed. “Over here,” she whispered. He tried to make her out in the darkness but all he could see was her form, shapeless as a burka. They stopped and she came into his arms, on him even before he realized she’d moved. Her scent was floral, her mouth wet and also warm, tasting of peppermint and her last cigarette.
After a long moment she pulled back. He heard the whisper of clothing across nylon, the slight sound of her skirt dropping to the carpet. He sensed, more than saw, her form stretch on the couch. He unbuckled his trousers and let them drop around his ankles. He remembered his suit jacket; as he removed it, her hand touched his erection through his undershorts. She tugged them lower, then encircled him with her fingers.
Her grip guided him, and as he entered her, a single computer screen sprang to life behind the groaning couple. Turning blue, it read:
Rebooting …
After a few seconds, the screen flickered and read:
NO OPERATING SYSTEM FOUND.
The screen turned black.
BRITISH AIRWAYS FLIGHT 188
NORTH ATLANTIC, 843 MILES OFF NEWFOUNDLAND
FRIDAY, AUGUST 11
12:01 A.M.
The flight attendants were clearing breakfast in the passenger compartments as Captain Robert McIntyre scanned the dials of the PFD, the primary flight display, once again. Beside him, copilot Sean Jones sat facing dead forward in that semihypnotic posture so common to commercial pilots on extended flights.
The sound of the twin engines well behind the pilots was distant. Outside, air slipped past the airplane with a comforting hiss. The Boeing 787 Dreamliner, with 289 passengers, all but flew itself. Once the airplane reached a cruising altitude of thirty-seven-thousand feet, the pilots had little to do but monitor the instrumentation and be available should something go wrong.
The airplane could take off, fly itself, and land without human assistance. It was state-of-the-art, fly-by-wire technology, which meant the airplane had the latest in computers. The manual controls, such as the throttle and yoke, were not physically connected to anything, though they were programmed to give the feel that they were. Instead, they emitted electronic signals that moved the parts of the plane needed for control.
Computers had even designed the plane itself. So convincing was the computer construct that the airplane was approved for commercial use and had gone straight to production without a prototype. McIntyre commented from time to time that the 787 was the most beautiful and well-behaved airplane he’d ever flown. “Any plans in New York?” he asked his copilot.
Jones sat motionless for several long seconds. “Excuse me,” he said finally. “Did you say something?”
“Want some coffee? I think you were off somewhere.”
Jones yawned. “No, I’m all right. I get so bored, you know?”
McIntyre glanced at his wristwatch. They were still more than an hour out of New York City. “Better watch it. You’ll be on record in another half hour.”
The cockpit voice recorder functioned on a half-hour loop, constantly recording thirty minutes at a time, again and again. Pilots had long learned to be utterly frank only when they were not within half an hour of approach or for the first half hour after takeoff. These were the times anything unusual occurred, if at all. Once in the air, the airplane was all but unstoppable.
“I know, but thanks. ‘Plans,’ you asked? Nothing much. How about you?”
“Just a walk in the park, I think. I’m too old for the rest.”
“Right. Tell it to your wife.” Jones glanced back outside. “What’s the altitude?”
“Let’s see, right at thirty-seven thousand … Jesus, we’re at forty-two thousand feet.” McIntyre scanned the dials again as if searching for an error. The airplane had climbed so gently neither of the men had noticed. “Do you see anything on the PFD?”
“No. Looks good. We’re on auto, right?” They’d been on autopilot since London. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The plane had just come out of a complete servicing. All of the computer software had been reinstalled, with the latest updates. Everything should have been functioning perfectly. Instead, they were on an all but undetectable gentle incline.
