The senior IT administrator at Global E.Y.K., Incorporated sat nervously in the reception area just outside the president’s office. Should I tell him the facts or should I try to put a positive spin on it? he thought. But before he could decide, the president’s administrative assistant called out, “Mr. Eccles is ready to see you now.”
As soon as he entered the office, he was intimidated. It was both cavernous and posh. Even the desk in front of the president was larger than his own office in the IT section.
For nearly two minutes the president of Global E.Y.K. ignored the man, focusing instead on a sheaf of papers before him. When he finally looked up, his eyes were narrowed to flinty points.
“How the hell could anyone hack into our IT system?” he asked bluntly, with no preamble whatsoever.
“I can’t explain that, sir,” the little man replied. He smoothed his thinning blond hair into place. His voice sounded squeaky, even to him. He knew they called him “The Mouse” behind his back, despite his elevated position. “Our firewall was installed by the same company that designs firewalls for the Pentagon,” he insisted. “We’re state-of-the-art.”
“We were state-of-the art yesterday,” the president said angrily. “But where are we today?”
The question hung in the air, an open-ended challenge for the young IT administrator.
“The system has been checked from top to bottom. We even brought in a consultant, a top man in the field, and he couldn’t find any points of vulnerability. Whoever did it has got to be one of the best systems people out there.”
“A high school freshman, no doubt,” the president said sarcastically.
“We’ve pretty well ruled that possibility out,” said the IT administrator. “Whoever did this has had a great deal of systems experience. Our working theory is that an organized team hired by a foreign power is behind this.”
“Was there any damage done to our system?” the president asked.
“No. There was just the message that was sent out across the system.”
The president looked down at the hard copy of the simple text message that had been displayed on all monitors linked to their system: “Cut your waste emissions by 85% by the end of this month or you will be hurt where it hurts the most,” it said succinctly.
“What’s your opinion?” said the president. “Is the threat real?”
“We think it’s a bluff,” said the IT administrator, but his voice did not carry much conviction.
“What do you think it means when they say ‘We will hurt you where it hurts the most’?” The president was more rattled than the senior IT administrator had ever seen him. The man was famous for his cool exterior. In the movie version of his life, he would have been played by Harrison Ford. He had that all-American, splendidly preserved aspect to him.
“We’ve given that a lot of thought. Our strategic vulnerabilities are as follows: our power plants, our power transfer stations, and our energy storage facilities.”
The president’s smile was devoid of humor. “Is that really the best you could come up with?”
The senior IT administrator had nothing to say. He knew it was a rhetorical question. Eccles looked down at his desk and began to examine another sheaf of papers. “Let me ask you one more question. How do we manage our financial transactions at Global?”
“Why, we manage them electronically, sir.” A split second later it occurred to him what Eccles was driving at. He couldn’t believe he had missed it. It was so obvious now that it had been pointed out to him. For anyone with the expertise to hack into a super secure system, bogus transfers of electronic funds would be child’s play.
“Oh, my God!” he said.
“Don’t just sit there sputtering, do something about it!” Eccles shouted.
The IT administrator jumped up as though he had just received an electric shock. “Right away, sir,” he said. He made a bee-line to the exit. When he closed the door to the president’s office behind him, he did not look back.