Returning to Zero (Mick O'Malley Series Book 2) Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 0.

  Chapter 1.

  Chapter 2.

  Chapter 3.

  Chapter 4.

  Chapter 5.

  Chapter 6.

  Chapter 7.

  Chapter 8.

  Chapter 9.

  Chapter A.

  Chapter B.

  Chapter C.

  Chapter D.

  Chapter E.

  Chapter F.

  Chapter 10.

  Chapter 11.

  Chapter 12.

  Chapter 13.

  Chapter 14.

  Chapter 15.

  Chapter 16.

  Chapter 17.

  Chapter 18.

  Chapter 19.

  Chapter 1A.

  Chapter 1B.

  Chapter 1C.

  Chapter 1D.

  Chapter 1E.

  Chapter 1F.

  Chapter 20.

  Chapter 21.

  Chapter 22.

  Chapter 23.

  Chapter 24.

  Chapter 25.

  Chapter 26.

  Chapter 27.

  Chapter 28.

  Chapter 29.

  Chapter 2A.

  Chapter 2B.

  Chapter 2C.

  Chapter 2D.

  Chapter 2E.

  Chapter 2F.

  Chapter 30.

  Epilogue.

  About the Author.

  Returning to Zero

  The fight for control of the massive Zed.Kicker botnet continues in Returning to Zero, the sequel to Counting from Zero.

  The ultimate weapon of the Internet arms race is the botnet, short for a robot network of compromised computers. Control of a botnet gives the power to threaten individuals, organizations, and even nation states by launching punishing denial of service attack targeting commerce, public safety, and security.

  Mick O’Malley, hiding out in Australia under a different identity, is visited by an old hacker friend who has startling news about the events that turned Mick’s life upside down in Kiev six months previously. As Mick loses control of the botnet, he is drawn into a new global adventure in an attempt to contain the zombie computers that threaten the Internet. Along the way, he finds something more dangerous than the technology, and discovers that not all is what it seems, even within his close circle of friends.

  Returning to Zero, the second book in the Mick O’Malley Series, gives a dramatically realistic view of the ongoing struggle to secure today’s Internet from botnets, cyber criminal networks, and malicious nation-state actors.

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright © 2017 Alan B. Johnston LLC

  All rights reserved.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Returning to Zero

  Alan B. Johnston

  for Mum

  Prologue.

  Looking out over the rooftops, he had a thought that had plagued him for so long: why could he not repeat his success? Why hadn’t he been able to write another software exploit, another clever piece of computer code to compromise unwitting machines? He had been trying for months and months, but nothing was as great as the exploit he had created and sold to Cloud 8++. And look at what they had done with it: they had created the world’s largest botnet—a robot network of computers, then lost control of the whole thing to that Mick O’Malley! Idiots! Imbeciles! Maybe he would one day have a chance to settle the score with O’Malley.

  It had been his exploit, his botnet, and should have been his glory. Instead, it was his failure. There was hardly a whisper on the Internet about it, and no one knew his name—NØviz. And at this rate, no one ever would.

  How long had it been? In his mind, he flipped back through the months, all the way back to the previous year. He had been so full of excitement when he had first met with Cloud 8++ in Kiev. The money he earned had changed his life, given him independence, and allowed him to leave Russia. But so much had gone wrong since then, over the past year.

  A year! How could he forget about this?

  He pulled up his online calendar to check the dates exactly. The excitement growing in him felt odd, like a muscle that hadn’t been exercised in a long time. He looked up the dates of meetings with Cloud 8++ last year and smiled triumphantly.

  In just a week, it would be exactly one year since he sold the exploit code. Twelve months. Precisely.

  NØviz smiled happily as he counted down the days. Now if he could just shake the continual feeling that he was being watched, and followed, everything would be perfect. But now, he had a plan and a purpose.

  Who said there were no second chances?

  Part I.

  Chapter Ø.

  Ja2 Can’t stand #airtravel would rather walk or swim but I made it!

  Distance is relative, mused Mick O’Malley, and travel distance particularly, as he thought about his travels to get to Melbourne, Australia. Six months ago, he had traveled 15,453 km from Dublin to his new home in Melbourne. He was even further from his former home in Manhattan, which was about 16,664 km distant. But with an unexpected arrival today, both these distances now seemed much shorter.

  Mick’s day had begun as usual with a 6 km tram ride from Brunswick to the Moto Guzzi motorcycle shop in the city center where he worked as a restoration mechanic.

  She caught up with him in the bright sunshine as he left the shop at the end of the day.

  “Hello Mick, or I guess I should say Seamus!” called the woman when she was almost along side him. Mick stopped dead and turned to look at her. A moment later recognition flared in his twenty-five-year-old eyes, but he said nothing and continued walking.

  Not her!

  “That’s not much of a greeting!” she continued. “I’ve come a long way to see you. Don’t have time to talk to an old friend?”

  He paused, thinking. The late afternoon sun shone brightly on her short brown hair and skinny frame. She looked very different from when he last saw her, but she was still striking.

  “I’m Seamus, as you well know. Look, Jasinski, Turing, or whatever you call yourself these days—”

  “My friends call me Jaz,” she interrupted. He knew that he also looked quite different from their last meeting over six months ago in London. He now had a closely trimmed beard and was a little heavier. And a good deal less cocky.

  “Whatever. I don’t know what your angle is, but I’d appreciate it if you would just get lost. Full marks for finding me—well done, you win, if that’s what you’re after.” He resumed walking. “But I’m really not interested in any games.”

  “I thought you might be interested in learning the truth,” Jasinski replied, continuing to walk with him.

  “About what?”

  “About Cloud 8 plus plus, about Zed dot Kicker, and everything that happened in Kiev.” The sky suddenly seemed to darken. A drop of rain fell to the ground.

  “I know the truth—I was there, but I think you weren’t, so I don’t know what you can tell me about it.”

  “As I said, the truth, or at least some facts that may lead to the truth.” Jasinski was having a hard time keeping up with Mick’s fast paced walk. She grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “Let’s get a coffee and talk at least.”

  This is not a good idea. I need to get rid of her.

  “OK,” he replied, relenting. They turned and walked into one of the many small cafés that littered the streets of Melbourne. The city seemingly had more espresso cafés per block than any other city outside of Italy. Mick ordered a double espresso and asked Jasinsk
i what she wanted. She chose an herbal tea, which Mick ordered with disdain.

  “Didn’t ride your motorbike today?” she asked. Mick glared at her.

  “I’m fixing it up—I had a spill the other week and damaged some body work.”

  “Well, you have to get right back on the horse when it throws you, you know?”

  “So, what do you know about Kiev?” Mick asked in a low voice, taking a sip of his espresso. Now he had resolved to discuss the matter, he felt keen to talk about it, and even her prattle didn’t put him off.

  “Well, Mick I—”

  “If you don’t call me Seamus I’m out of here!” he replied in a low voice. It felt strange to hear his old name. He hadn’t heard it spoken aloud in months. It was too risky: Mick O’Malley was no more. His assets had been seized, his name flagged, his passport revoked. His family didn’t even know where he was, except for his uncle.

  “Right, Seamus. I have turned up some facts that I doubt you are aware of, and also a potential source of more information. First the facts: I believe your friend Kateryna was working for the Russians.” She paused to let the information sink in. She didn’t have long to wait. Mick stood up, bumping the table and making a young couple on the other side of the café stare. He slowly sat down.

  Kateryna Petrescu was another name that Mick had not heard in ages. He had met the dark haired Romanian-born firewall expert while tracking the Zed.Kicker botnet. Her help had been invaluable in wresting control of the Zed.Kicker botnet from the Ukrainian cybercriminals. It had been very hard on him having to give up contact with her as he led his life on the run.

  “Why should I believe you? For all I know you are working with the Russians… or the Americans,” he replied, trying to control his emotions even as he felt fear creeping into his veins. He tried hard not to think of her, but usually failed. There were times that he thought about some of the events of the past and wondered.

  “Good question. The answer is: research, or as I like to call it ‘re-search’. The ‘re’ part reminds you that you have to do it again and again—an iterative process. And the ‘search’ part is because you have to keep searching and looking, and you never know where it will take you or what you will find. I’m brilliant at re-search. I just couldn’t leave this whole Zed dot Kicker thing alone, and my re-search turned up these interesting facts. And since you are presumably the only one who cares more about this than me, I did some re-search to find you.”

  Mick processed her words, and analyzed her accent. Her birth in Poland and years spent in London were evident, but there was something more that he couldn’t quite figure out.

  “And how did you find me?”

  “It wasn’t easy! You covered your tracks pretty well, but nothing a bit of re-search won’t conquer. My starting point is usually genealogy—there’s a huge amount of information about someone on their birth certificate, and that of their parents, siblings, etc. Before we met in London, I had gone through your birth records. Knowing where you started and where you ended up, it wasn’t too hard to connect the dots and find your old haunts and stomping grounds as a teenager. By the way, you are fondly remembered by your old mates ‘Haxx’, ‘FredrØ’, and even ‘FkUp’, who still seems angry with you for something you did back in the day.” She paused at the hint of a smile on Mick’s face.

  “So that’s how you got my old hacker alias eireforce1. I wondered about that.”

  Mick recalled meeting Jasinski for the first time. She had called herself ‘Turing’ back then, and, after luring him to a squat in the East End of London, she had tested his hacking skills. Ultimately, she had provided him with key information that allowed him track down and take control of the botnet.

  “Yep. After our meeting in London, you disappeared. At the time, I didn’t know about Kateryna or else I might have tracked you to Kiev. You were able to travel to Ukraine on Kateryna’s husband’s passport. I was able to learn about the incident from news reports at the office of Cloud 8 plus plus. It was difficult, but I eventually learned what went below.”

  “Down. What went down.”

  “Yes, yes, what went down.”

  “Which was what?”

  “Ah, I see—a test. Sure, no problems. I did the same to you when we first met, so it seems fair,” she replied, having another sip of her tea. “You and Kateryna arrive in Kiev, stake out the offices of Cloud 8 plus plus, creators of the Zed dot Kicker botnet. You, silly, somehow get yourself caught by the Ukrainians, then a Russian special forces unit materializes out of thin air and nabs you. You then escape the Russians—you are definitely better at getting yourself out of situations than avoiding them, you know—and then for good measure, escape the Yanks at the hospital, too! Then you escaped from everyone, except me, of course. But don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else is close to finding you, although no one bought your little swimming stunt in the river—they all think you are alive and hiding somewhere.

  “So how did I do?”

  “Very impressive. But how did you find me?”

  “Aren’t my little stories getting tedious? I would have thought you’d be more interested in hearing about the lovely Kateryna as a spy, but, as you like. I knew you had money, but all the same, you really did vanish—gone, and from a foreign country where you didn’t speak the language. That meant only one thing: you were prepared and had a plan. I just needed to work backwards and figure out the plan. My re-search went back to genealogy again, specifically to your parents.

  “Fortunately in London I had access to all kinds of sources, and I was able to learn a lot about your parents. I learned how they had left Ireland in the early 8Ø’s to get away from the ‘troubles.’ Two of your uncles on your mother’s side of the family were true ‘hard men’ in the IRA, weren’t they? Your parents were wise to get away and start a new life in London. But it is hard to completely leave the old country behind. I eventually found the paperwork filed by your mother registering your birth as Seamus Campbell with the Irish Republic. Clearly she had help from the doctor, but I don’t think that your father knew—it definitely wasn’t his signature on the form. They only made one tiny mistake: although your name, date of birth, parent’s names, etc were all falsified, your size and weight were identical!”

  Mick felt a tingle behind his ear as his implant alerted him. He put up his finger to pause Jasinski and checked his mobile. It was only an auction win. He now owned a new block of IPv4 addresses. He quickly delegated them to his server farm. Once they were up and working, he would update all his DNS records, then revoke his old address block and put it up for auction. This was all part of his obfuscation routine, life on the run.

  “The next part of the story I can only guess, so you can tell me if I’m right or wrong. Your mother eventually told you about your Irish identity, and you got a passport. So, it wasn’t too hard to realize that Mick O’Malley with a U.S. passport, and Alec Robertson with a British passport, was the same person as Seamus Campbell with an Irish passport! It was then easy to find you in Ireland. I was hoping to have this conversation there, but then you disappeared again!

  “To cut a long story short, my re-search eventually located your uncle living here in Melbourne, so here I am! Any questions?”

  Damn she’s good!

  Chapter 1.

  From the Privacy and Other Mirages Blog:

  I’m sure that all my web browsing is tracked on my computer, but is there a way to minimize this?

  There are many ways your web browsing can be tracked on the Internet, and one way is on your own computer.

  When you visit most websites, they store some information about your browsing session on your own computer. These pieces of information are known as “cookies”--weird name, I know. When you browse, you collect them like lint, or like burrs and ticks when you hike in the woods. They are part of your browsing history, and can reveal all kinds of things about you, if someone gets their hands on your computer or installs malware (malicious software) on it.

>   There are some things you can do. One is to delete all the cookies on your browser periodically. You can do this on the settings menu of browsers. Of course, you might need to re-enter some information and log back into some sites.

  If this is too inconvenient, you could use multiple browser applications. For your important browsing and the sites you visit frequently, use one browser. When you browse randomly or visit questionable sites, use a different browser that you reset frequently.

  If you need some motivation to do this, take a look at the list of cookies on your web browser right now. You’ll see hundreds, if not thousands of cookies from all kinds of slimy and disreputable companies. If you care at all about your online privacy, you need to pay close attention to cookies.

  Chapter 2.

  Ja2 I’ve heard of 4 seasons in 1 day, but how about in 1 hour? #melbourne #weather #fail

  “Well done in tracking me down—bravo!” Mick began. “I’d say you do know how to do research. I will definitely need to be more careful in the future. But this doesn’t mean I believe anything else you might tell me. Why are you really here? A simpler solution a-la Occam’s Razor is that you know all this because you are involved.”

  “Ah yes, the Principle of Least Astonishment. I am involved because those asshats stole my P2PMSG software and used it to control their botnet! I understand your skepticism—you would be foolish to just take me at my word and trust everything I tell you. However, if I recall correctly, this is what you did with your friend Kateryna last year, isn’t it?”

  “If you are going to make an accusation about her, you had better do it fast and not beat around the bush about it.”