Zero Day_ A Novel - Mark Russinovich [61]
Tom Gentry was the oldest of the group at thirty-one. Almost entirely self-taught, he lacked the academic degrees of the others but possessed a near genius understanding of computers. Daryl relied on him for his innovative thinking and his accumulated knowledge. His team was responsible for preparing the solution to the Superphreak virus. Tall and gawky, he was always uneasy in meetings, and today was no different. Shifting in his chair, he gulped down a big sip of coffee before speaking.
“Obviously we need to have a way to identify the viruses so signatures can be prepared, then we need signatures that work for each of the variations. Superphreak is the recurring figure we are focusing on, but we can’t rule out that the word might not appear in some variations.”
Michelle spoke. “You mean there could be Superphreak viruses without the name?”
“Sure,” Tom said, reaching for his coffee cup again and nearly knocking it over. “Someone else certainly knows more than I do at this point, but from what I’ve seen, the only really sophisticated part of the viruses are the rootkits. The viruses in general are of mixed quality and from a number of sources, some old, some brand-new.”
“How about distributing signatures?” Daryl asked.
“Oscar’s companies are probably our best bet for that. I think we’re going to need a bunch of them.” Tom wrinkled his forehead and looked her directly in the eye. “I just don’t see how we can do all this, boss.”
“The security vendors tell me they aren’t getting any of them in their honeypots,” Oscar said, seconding Tom’s concern. “They’re devoting their time to this wave of old viruses going around. We sitting at this table can see the train barreling down the hill, but we can’t get out of the way or even get the rest to pay attention.”
The room was silent for a long moment. “Do we have a sense that these are all the result of a single hacker?” Daryl asked.
Tom cleared his throat. “I’d say not. There’s more than one person involved, that’s for sure.”
“Are these scattered hackers just jumping on a bandwagon? Or is this orchestrated?” Daryl asked.
Oscar hesitated. “I don’t know if all of them are working together, but some of them must be. You know, boss, I have an idea. You can bet they use the Internet to communicate. They might even be in chat rooms.” Daryl nodded agreement, irritated she’d not already thought of that. “They’re sure to have left a trail.”
“You’ve got a good point,” she said.
Encouraged, Oscar said, “Maybe we can coax some of them out of their hole. You know how crackers like to brag. Maybe we can locate a few of these people and fool them into giving us some of the answers we’re working at finding the hard way.”
Tom brightened. “I like that.”
“So do I.” This just might be the shortcut Daryl had been hoping for. “See to it, Oscar. Find me three or four people good in chat rooms and forums, and let’s see what they come up with. Let’s keep it up, folks. We’re not lying down for this thing.”
28
PARIS, FRANCE
5ÈME ARRONDISSEMENT
GRAPHISME COURAGEUX
MONDAY, AUGUST 21
7:44 P.M.
Michel Dufour stared out the window and wondered once again why he was still in Paris. Every friend of his was either vacationing in the south or traveling abroad. Paris in August was dreadful. Hot, dirty, the streets filled with loud tourists, the waiters surly and sarcastic.
He sighed. What was there to do? The deadline loomed and could not be moved.
Pauvre Michel, he thought, poor Michael. Repeating the phrase his older sister had used to mock him as a child whenever he felt sorry for himself, he swiveled from the window and returned to his monitor.
He typed for several moments, then confirmed he was into the Internet access at a cybercafé he knew, one of a dozen around Paris he used. He wasn’t about to leave any trails leading to the office. Next he opened a send box and typed:
Date:
Mon, 21 August