Freeman was recompiling the code for Kracken 2.0, the latest version of the malware delivery system. He had tested the code no less than five times.
Are you ready to change the world, Freeman? he asked himself. Time to show Nigel who the boss is.
His red phone chirped. He checked the text message from Dahlia. It read:
Your attendance is required in the main conference room immediately.
After countless hours, the moment of truth had come. It was time to execute the malware. Moments after Freeman received the “compile complete” message, he packed his things and made his way to the conference room. When he got there, he opened the door and acknowledged every principal member of the Cabal and their respective lieutenants. There were a few missing, but Freeman didn’t care. His mood changed when he realized Nigel Watson was absent. Of all the people in the Bromwick, he hated Nigel most of all.
“Freeman, glad you could join us. Are you ready to launch the delivery system for the malware?” Mr. Chen said.
“I am, I just need access to the latest version of the malware,” Freeman replied.
Dahlia produced a red metal flash drive. “Nigel fixed the detection problem,” she said. “Please deploy this version.”
Freeman grimaced at the sound of Nigel’s name. He inventoried the contents of the flash drive, then packed the malware: a process that made it nearly impossible to figure out the true intent of the malicious package. Once he verified the code, he launched his delivery system for the identity-exposing malware.
Stolen novel; please report.
“It’s done. The malware that I call the Kraken has been unleashed,” Freeman said.
“The breach of the windowless tower has already caused quite the stir among the law enforcement community. They have dispatched their best cyber defenders to mitigate against the attack,” Kurtzen said.
“If that’s the case, then won’t it be more difficult to expose everyone?” Dahlia asked.
“No, Madam, we got the information we were after,” Seymour said.
“What’s happening to the map? The colors seem to be changing,” Mr. Chen said.
“Those red and orange dots all seem to be concentrated on the United States. So far I don’t see a worldwide impact,” Dahlia said.
“What’s that orange dot? It looks like it is near us, and it is getting larger,” the Sultan said.
“It’s one of the malware distribution hubs. It’s where the malware calls home for instruction,” Freeman said.
“I hope it cannot be traced back here,” Mr. Chen said.
Freeman pulled up a window with a black background and green text and began typing.
“That’s not right—those packets are being routed back. There’s something wrong with the routing table,” Freeman muttered.
“What does that mean?” Mr. Tage said.
“No!” Freeman said.
“What’s the matter?” Dahlia asked.
“The malware is using the source IP as the beaconing target, not the hub IP,” Freeman said.
“Freeman’s routing problem is not the only thing broken. Anyone else have phone service?” Kurtzen said.
The room filled with discontented murmurs as each member of the Cabal checked their cell phones.
“It appears our young hacker friend has broken the internet,” the Sultan said.
“I think we need to bring in someone with actual hacking skill. This amateur is not making the cut,” Gratzano interjected.
“I think you should get Nigel Watson to untangle this mess,” Mr. Tage said.
“I’m afraid Mr. Watson hasn’t reported back in yet,” Chen said.
“I will find him,” Dahlia said as she picked up her phone.
I can’t believe this is happening, I must have missed something, but what? What am I going to do now? Freeman thought.
Freeman watched while the traffic was getting rerouted to the Bromwick.
“Look, the orange dot is getting larger, and it appears to be growing over the Bromwick. You better fix your mess, kid, otherwise it’s going to get ugly,” Gratzano said as he leaned into Freeman’s personal space.