Zero Day_ A Novel - Mark Russinovich [22]
Jeff dragged his thoughts back to the present. “Though my primary concern was cyber-security, I knew the Internet could be used to organize and coordinate terrorist attacks,” he told Sue, taking up where he’d left off. “I wore out my welcome arguing for resources. I finally decided that only a seriously mounted terrorist attack against us with significant damage against a target that mattered was going to shake the lethargy of the intelligence community.”
“I guess we got that on 9/11, didn’t we?” Jeff seemed to wince, and for a moment Sue feared she’d misspoken.
After a pause he said, “You’d think so, but I’m still not sure they got the point.”
Sue freshened their coffee and pushed the container of skim milk closer to Jeff. “Go on,” she encouraged.
Jeff prepared his coffee as he continued, “In those days I spent a lot of nights trolling hacker chat rooms looking for signs of a plot.”
“Not much of a social life.”
Jeff smiled. “No. Probably about as active as yours.”
“I might surprise you.” She pointed her raised cup toward him. “But finish the story. I’m waiting for the part about bosses not listening.”
Jeff looked away. How much did he really want to say? He’d avoided the subject until now. But maybe it would be good to talk about it.
First he told her how for most of 2001, he and his team, when available, worked to retrieve information from the hard-drive disks sent to him. Seized from various terrorists or terrorist suspects by a wide range of agencies throughout the world, the disks, or copies of them, had ended up in the hands of the CIA. If British SAS captured an IRA suspect, the hard drive from his computer, or its clone, would at some point find its way to Jeff’s desk. It was the same for the Mossad. Even the CIA’s own meager foreign-agent force produced disks from time to time.
As is generally the case in intelligence, the individual bits of data he produced from these sources by themselves meant little. Once he plucked them from the disks, though, they were fed into a master program by his unit, where they might, or might not, assume their proper place in the database about the terrorist world. He never knew. In fact, he had no idea if anyone was routinely consulting the growing body of data his unit was compiling on the operations of various worldwide terror groups.
“So what happened?” Sue asked. Jeff saw how eager she was and wondered for a moment how she’d react to the whole story.
“I really can’t go into it. Let’s just say, my boss and I had a disagreement, and I left.”
“There’s a story there you’ll have to trust me with sometime,” she said mischievously. “Is that when you started your own company?”
“Yes,” Jeff said, glad to change the subject. “Turns out all those contacts I made with the Company were good for something. It’s been a bigger success than I ever expected. One job after another. So no complaints there.” He sipped his coffee and turned to the problem at hand. “Let’s get back to you. The bad news is that your records, financial as well as work product, are all but a total loss from what I can see. I keep holding out hope they’ll turn up somewhere, but I don’t think so.”
“Is there anything you can do for us?” She looked hopeful and he hated having to disappoint her.
“I’m trying to identify the virus sufficiently so that we can be certain it’s not in your nightly or weekly backup. With that information we can determine if they’re clean.” He held up a hand of caution at seeing her become crestfallen. “I haven’t found a hint of when you picked this up, so I can’t tell from the time frame which, if any, of your backups are clean. It could have been lurking in there a very long time.”
Sue bit her lower lip. “I was afraid that might be the case.” She thought a moment, then gave him a wan smile. “So the worst-case scenario is that our current computers are fried. Useless. Whether or not we can recover the data from the backups,