“What’s our response?” General Christie asked the Director of the FBI’s Cyber Crime Division, after waiting five full minutes for the call-back.
“We’ve got a team on it. Big team—I just retasked five hundred agents here and in Atlanta and New York.”
“This Jasper Brokaw,” Christie said, watching the news scenes. “There were no known threats against him?”
“Nothing telling. And the guy was a star at the NSA. Super-nova bright. Never flagged a follow-up in security clearances, aside from the usual stuff when posted overseas. He’s as clean as they come. Cleaner, actually, with pedigree background. But we’re shaking trees and rattling bushes or whatever it is that we’re doing.”
“I read his file,” Christie said. “He used to be Army.”
“We’ve just spoken to his superiors—old Army COs as well as his NSA department head. Brokaw is good at what he does. Among our best, they say. Certainly capable of attacking critical infrastructure.”
“Where’s Homeland on this?”
“They’re planning for the worst while hoping the sky doesn’t fall so that they might actually have to do something real.”
“Those guys . . .”
“I know. There’s simply too much to protect and they’re still green. This kind of thing is out of their league.”
Christie leaned forward on her desk, said into the phone, “You’re briefing the White House?”
“Half-hourly. We’ve got a team set up in the Situation Room. They’re keeping the President informed. I’m across this, believe me.”
Christie smiled, knowing what that meant: we’re making sure that Homeland Security is kept in check, and we’re ready to use our gravitas to intercept ineptitude.
“POTUS is in Hawaii?”
“And he’s staying put,” the Director replied. “Either there or on Air Force One, until this is over. The VP is in the Sit Room. Congress isn’t in session, and the Hill’s largely deserted, so that’s one security headache we don’t have in the face of however many cyber attacks are headed our way.”
“We might need them on the Hill to make decisions.”
“The President has all the power he needs.”
General Christie smiled again. He sure does. “I’ll connect in to the next Sit Room briefing, patch into the video con.”
“You’re expecting to be called in on this?”
“If the President needs us, we’re ready and willing to act.”
“God, I can’t fathom it will get to that.”
“Plan for the worst, right? It’s happened before.” 9/11. Pearl Harbor. She didn’t need to say it. They both knew what destruction looked like. Plan for the worst . . .
•
“There’s a law that says they can turn off the Internet?” Walker said. He stood, moved to the plastic bag of cold water bottles and took another. Neither TSA guy moved, but they both watched him. He passed them around, saying to the two big guys, “No hard feelings.”
“Sure are laws, a whole load of them, in fact.” David sipped his water. “Here and in most other countries. But we’re not just talking China or Iran or Syria or Russia turning off their Internet to stop people talking online to prevent civil unrest in those autocracies. Look, Jed,” David continued, still standing but shifting positions again, “this is about switching the Internet off in North America and among our allies around the globe. What’s left will be a ghost network, cut off from the world, small pockets here and there.”
Walker nodded. “Effectively all that’s left would be intranets and local-area networks in far-flung corners of the Middle East and Africa.”
“That’s right.”
“Who enacts this law here—the Supreme Court?”
“The White House,” David said. “A raft of laws have been passed since 9/11, probably the most pertinent to this being the Cybersecurity and Internet Freedom Act.”
“Don’t you like how they put ‘freedom’ and ‘patriot’ in bills through Congress so that they sound all rosy?”
“Whatever works.”
“And why will the White House enact these laws?”
“The coming events will force the President’s hand.”
“Over the next thirty-six hours.”
“Yes.”
“At what point? At events that we don’t even know are coming . . . they’re going to have to be catastrophic.”
“That’s the unknown, the multi-trillion-dollar question,” David said, pacing. “What will come, where, when . . .”
“Say the Net is shut down for a period of time,” Walker said. “That will do what—stop more cyber attacks only until it’s switched on again? To put up bigger walls of defense.”
“Maybe. In theory.” David Walker exhaled. “Maybe it will buy the time to find this guy and those who have him captive and put a permanent stop to it. But there’s more to it than that—it won’t be that simple. It can’t be.”
“I’ve always heard it’s much easier to attack than defend in cyberspace . . .”
“Correct. But what we’re talking about—enacting this law—won’t happen easily. I mean, this is not like the President has a literal button or switch to shut off the Net; orders have to be given and papers served and lawyers across the globe briefed, and all the while the world’s biggest companies will challenge at every turn to save their very existence. Even if the Net is down for an hour, or two, or six, can you imagine the shock to the global economy? Let alone all the systems that rely on the Net, from personal-safety to a national-security point of view.”
“I’m more worried about getting to that point of the President’s decision,” Walker said. “Nothing happens fast in Washington, so shutting down the Net inside of thirty-six hours may be a moot point. The President will have to deliberate with the National Security Council, Congress and the Senate will have to be recalled and they’ll be arguing—it’s going to take time, and we’re going to see what these events are, and that’s all going to happen before we see any private-sector push-back.”
“But there are laws in place, and a few executive orders, that authorize him to direct the Department of Homeland Security to shut it down, fast.”
“To prevent further attacks . . .”
“That’s right. They sold it as a what-if scenario. Like, what if a terror group were using cell networks or wi-fi to detonate bombs around the country—how do we stop that? How do we make sure it’s all shut down?”
“How are they going to know the attacks are from this group?” Walker said. “That they’re different from the thousands of cyber attacks on US networks every day?”
“Because a credible threat has just been made. We’ve under six hours until the next cyber attack, and it will involve all US government personnel.”
“That’s vague. That’s it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Who knows about it?”
“It was on the news two hours ago.”
Walker checked his watch. “That’s after you picked me up and brought me here.”
“Yes. I moved fast.”
“You had advance warning.”
“No. I was watching for signs. I told you: patterns.”
Walker nodded. That’s what his father was known for, how he’d been so in demand as a professor who specialized in global security and foreign policy.
Walker said, “What can I do?”
“I’m not certain. But you won’t be working with the NSA or FBI or DoD. Nor your friends in the UN.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re all going to be looking into this the wrong way. They’re on defense, remember?” David looked at Walker, and in his eyes was something that wasn’t there before: pity. “And they don’t have what you have.”
“What’s that?”
“A connection.”