Zero Day_ A Novel - Mark Russinovich [18]
For his immediate need, Vladimir decided no help was to be found on the Internet. He returned to the code he was writing and tried again. Still … something eluded him. He went back and rewrote a section, then nodded. He copied the sequence and dropped it into his test computer. It worked.
Vladimir smiled. Slick. This last was his best. Even he was impressed.
9
MANHATTAN, NYC
IT CENTER
FISCHERMAN, PLATT & COHEN
TUESDAY, AUGUST 15
2:32 A.M.
As was his habit when working, Jeff set his digital watch to chirp every two hours. When it went off, he would stand from his station, stretch, then take a walk around the offices to exercise his body and clear his head, though a part of him never let go of the problem he was grappling with. He’d drink a Coke or a cup of black coffee, use the restroom, wash his face, then return to his place.
Respectful of his dedication, Sue didn’t break his concentration with idle chatter or questions about what she was seeing over his shoulder. She took her breaks at different times, always returning with the smell of cigarette smoke about her. He’d sniffed once before realizing it came from her. She’d said, “I know. A disgusting habit. I just have to quit.”
At one point some hours into the process, Harold disappeared. It could have been the middle of the night or broad daylight. Jeff had no idea. But when Harold returned with food from the all-night diner, Jeff realized how hungry he was. He wolfed down a ham-and-cheese sandwich just as the new framework dropped the unencrypted copy of the code onto his disk. He chewed as he analyzed it.
So far, he had discovered mostly negatives. The single most troubling development had been an attempt by the virus to replicate itself. In this case, it had failed, but, he realized, in other environments it might well be succeeding. It didn’t affect what he was doing today, though it could mean disaster for thousands of other businesses. But that was in the future. Right now he had to concentrate on what he was getting paid to do. As he finished the food and wiped his hands on a napkin, Jeff mentally groaned at what he saw. Even the decrypted code he’d labored so long to produce was obtuse. The cracker was using tricks that ran in the low-level environment. That meant that this approach was a dead end.
Jeff didn’t realize that Sue had been gone until she reentered the room. She came up behind him and leaned down at a time when he had his screen filled with the string output. Her proximity reminded him for a moment that she was an attractive woman. But almost as quickly as the sensation came, it vanished. It had happened before when he’d been drawn to a woman. He knew the shutting down of his emotions was related to Cynthia’s death, and the guilt he felt about not having done more to prevent it.
But nothing would ever change what had happened.
His BlackBerry rang, snapping him out of his gloom. “Excuse me,” he muttered to Sue, as he answered.
Sue took the opportunity to examine Jeff much more closely as he listened to his caller. She’d been attracted from the start and, having watched him work, was now even more impressed. Now she could take him in as a man and liked what she saw. She wondered if he mixed business with pleasure. In her experience, most men did, given the chance.
“I’m in Manhattan too, on a system crash. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m sorry to hear about the deaths.” Jeff paused. “Sure, sure. That sounds good, Daryl. Maybe I’ll know something by then.” Slipping his BlackBerry back in his pocket, he looked up at Sue.