US Cyber Command, Fort Meade, Maryland
The cold coffee tasted sour in Don’s mouth, adding another level of complexity to the roiling in his gut. He pushed the cup out of view of the video camera. He hadn’t slept in … he was too tired to even do the math. These status calls with the heads of all the agencies plus the White House every few hours weren’t helping either.
He looked across the table at General Price. He didn’t seem to be faring any better than Don.
The director of the CIA went offscreen for a second, then reappeared. “Excuse me, everyone, but I’ve got a useful update. A North Korean defector showed up in Narita claiming knowledge of Rafiq Roshed and the computer virus.”
“Does he have a location?” Price asked.
Don had just spent the last few minutes briefing the conference that his team had tracked the command signal for the virus to the commercial satellite network. The globe was surrounded by a ring of interconnected telecom satellites in geosynchronous orbit. These were workhorse satellites, carrying everything from emails to telephone calls to HBO. There was no way they could shut down that network and not cause a worldwide uproar. From there the trail ran cold. Roshed could be transmitting from anywhere on the planet.
The CIA director said, “The station chief in Tokyo is uploading the whole interview, but I’m patching Brendan McHugh through now to give us an update.”
Brendan’s face filled the screen. Don’s friend looked like he hadn’t slept in several days, but he managed a weary smile.
“Captain McHugh, you’re live,” said the operator.
He nodded. “Thank you. Earlier today, a North Korean diplomat arrived unannounced at Narita Airport and claimed asylum.” A picture of a dour-faced Korean man flashed on the screen. “This is Pak Myung-rok, a close confidant of Kim Jong-un. He showed up demanding to speak with the CIA station chief in Tokyo. I was already in Yokosuka investigating the hack on the Trident network, so I caught a chopper to Narita. Mr. Pak claimed to have direct knowledge of the communications hack and Rafiq Roshed’s whereabouts.”
“And?” the chairman of the Joint Chiefs said. “Is he still in North Korea?”
“Yes, sir.” The screen showed a map with a tiny island circled in red. “He’s holed up in what used to be a missile test site off the east coast of North Korea. The agent who handled the interview is writing up the notes and will transmit them as soon as we have them in a form you can use.”
Don sagged with relief. He looked across the table at Price. The general nodded in satisfaction.
“Finally,” the chairman said. “We’ll blast this fucker into the Stone Age. Good work, Captain.”
Price caught Don’s eye and pointed to the row of seats behind Don and out of view of the camera. He’d forgotten that he’d invited the three midshipmen to the briefing in case he needed any technical details addressed. Everett was waving at him and miming, No!
He slipped out of view of the camera. “What is it?”
“Sir, if you destroy the originating site, we may not be able to shut the computer program down. It’s still learning. We don’t know what it will do if it’s not educated.”
“You mean it could be worse?” Don said.
“It could be much worse,” Goodwin replied. “It’s code, but it’s like a living thing. It needs to be shut down at the source or…”
“How bad could this get?”
The three looked at each other blankly and shrugged. Don’s mind immediately went to North Korean nukes. A man like Roshed would have a fail-safe plan in case he was taken out—and by “fail-safe,” Roshed would mean “world-ending.”
Don rolled back into the screen, where there was a vigorous debate between State and Defense about how bombing a sovereign nation would impact global politics.
“Excuse me, Mr. Secretary, we have another problem. My technical team here believes the safest way to deal with the computer virus is to shut it down at the source.”
The line went silent for a full ten seconds.
“How certain are they, Mr. Riley?” the chairman asked.
Don looked behind him. “Sir, I’m going to ask them to explain it. There’s no sense in me being a middleman on this issue.” He widened the camera view and had the midshipmen roll their chairs into view.
The chairman made a choking noise. “Are those Naval Academy midshipmen? Riley, what the hell is going on over—”
“Sir,” General Price broke in. “Give them a chance. I was skeptical at first, but without them I’m afraid we’d be sitting here with our thumbs in our posteriors. I stand behind their work.”
Don threw Price a look of thanks.
“Proceed,” the chairman said in a curt voice.
Everett swallowed, sitting ramrod-straight in her chair. “My name is Midshipman First Class Everett, this is Ramirez and Goodwin. Our analysis on the virus shows that it has a learning component. Someone, presumably this Roshed person, is teaching the program to do what he wants.”
“The AI part. We know about that,” said the chairman.
“It’s not an AI, sir,” Goodwin said. “There’s no sentience here. It has to be taught, like…” He scowled, and then his face cleared. “Think of it like training a puppy. Are you training a hunting dog or a show dog or a fighting dog? If you stop the training midway and release the dog into the wild, what happens? Will it be tame or go feral? It depends on the environment. The program might have defenses that we don’t know about.”
Everyone on the call seemed to be processing the concept of a feral computer virus.
“Assume we bomb the island and kill the puppy’s master, Midshipman,” the chairman said. “What’s the best-case scenario?”
Ramirez jumped in. “It could go dormant. A tame dog, if you will. In that case, we’d still have to take the entire Trident network offline to make sure we got the virus cleaned from our system. Same for the Chinese and the Japanese networks.”
“The Russians are going to love that,” someone said.
“What’s the worst case?” the chairman asked.
The three midshipmen looked at each other. “Can’t say, sir,” Everett replied.
“Could this virus access nuclear weapons?”
“It’s possible.”
Another period of stony silence.
“And you think if we have someone at the source, they can shut this thing down safely? Make the virus destroy itself?”
“Yes, sir,” Goodwin said. “If someone wrote it, someone else can take it apart.”
“Anyone against a raid on this island to shut down this virus at the source?” the chairman asked.
There were no dissenters.
“I’m calling the president as soon as we’re done to get JSOC activated. Be back in two hours for a full brief.” The chairman paused. “Captain McHugh, I’m directing you to act as my direct liaison on that raid.”
“Absolutely, sir,” Brendan said.
“Mr. Riley?” The chairman’s tone was stern.
“Sir?”
“Tell your midshipmen to pack their bags. You’re all going to Korea.”