Zero Day_ A Novel - Mark Russinovich [62]
To:
RioStud From: Xhugo49 Subject: $$$ Money snt. Attached is doomer. Release, not from your home or work, ASAP. Confrm when done. More t cum. Xhugo Dufour glanced at his list, considered for an instant if it was worth his time to copy and paste, decided it was not. Instead, he opened another message box. Date: Mon, 21 August 19:47 —0700 To: MgEst109 From: Xhugo1313 Subject: $$$ Money snt. Attached is new doomer. Release but not from home or work. ASAP, then confrm. More t cum. Xhugo Dufour stretched, grimaced, opened another send box, then typed: Date: Mon, 21 August 19:49 —0700 To: DanteHell From: Xhugo49 Subject: problem Load time still too slow. Must reduce by half. Hurry. Xhugo The Finn was full of himself. Always promising work he couldn’t deliver. Thought he was hot stuff with code. That should fix him. Dufour took a long look at his work list, opened another e-mail send box, then typed: Date: Mon, 21 August 19:51 —0700 To: Wiseguy From: Xhugo2009 Subject: great! Doomer works very well. Gd job. Kp it up. Will pay 1,000 euro bonus for similar clean work with no existing patch. Want 10 more like last one ASAP. Sugst u open egold account for transfers. Xhugo That was almost it for the night. Dufour dug through the papers strewn about his desk but couldn’t find another fresh list. He reminded himself that he had to get better organized. Then his fingers found a scrap of paper. Oh, yes. One more for the night, then some wine and Yvette. He started to type xhugo49 @ gmail.com, then decided he was finished with that e-mail address. Date: Mon, 21 August 19:54 —0700 To: Superphreak From: Xhugo1101 Subject: status New product with u code works very well. Have snt money to u egold account. Confrm u recve. We r on schedule. Xhugo 29 MANHATTAN, NEW YORK HOTEL LUXOR EAST THIRTIETH STREET TUESDAY, AUGUST 22 12:09 A.M. A package, delivered by courier, was waiting at the front desk for Jeff when he returned to his hotel. Thanking the clerk, he rode the elevator up, all but asleep on his feet. In his room he tossed the package on the desk, stripped off his clothes, then stepped into the shower, where he scrubbed himself top to bottom. Running the hot water over his body until his fingertips were puckered, he smiled briefly when he glanced at them, recalling how he’d called them “old” fingers when he’d been a child, wondering if his grandparents’ age was catching. He toweled off, then slipped on the hotel bathrobe, feeling if not reborn than at least much better. Jeff sat at the desk, fingering the package. What he wanted most of all was sleep, but he’d promised Daryl he’d do what he could to help. And, he had to admit to himself, no matter how tired he was, sleep might not easily come when what he was finding on his client’s server was emerging as his worst nightmare. For years he’d complained to anyone who’d listen about the lack of real Internet security. Now it appeared that a cyber-attack might well be upon them. From what Daryl was telling him, the attacks linked to Superphreak were broadly targeted, meaning the cyber-assault was widespread and aggressive. He had no complaint about his actual client. In other circumstances a man like Joshua Greene would have been ranting at him every day, thanks to the enormous pressure he was under. Instead, Greene seemed satisfied with dropping in on them two or three times during his work hours. “I’ll take care of him,” Sue had said that first day, and apparently she had. Jeff had spent this entire day in a copy of the firm’s monthly backup, trying to prepare it for Sue’s booting. He’d found more than he had with the daily backup, but had no way of knowing if he’d cleaned out enough. He’d located two rootkits in the law firm’s computers