The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI #5)(16)
“Raphael, my old friend, how are you?”
“F-fine, sir. Ah, how was your flight?”
“I came up from London, so it was short. Walk with me.” They started down the catwalk, toward the main stairs and into the auditorium, where there was a stage and microphone. Raphael ignored the hundreds of workers below, even though he felt their stares, heard their murmurs.
Roman clapped Raphael on the shoulder. “I suppose you know why I’m here, don’t you?”
Here it comes. “Yes, sir, I do, and, sir, if I could just explain, tell you what’s happened—”
They were still on the catwalk, high above the auditorium, Roman’s hand square on Raphael’s back. He leaned down, whispered, “It would be so simple, Raphael, to push you over the edge. It’s a long way down. You’d have time to think about your massive failure on the way. But death would be too easy a punishment, wouldn’t it? No, you’re going to fix this mess internally, and remember my benevolence toward your egregious mistake. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. A moment. I have good news.”
Roman stared down at his manager, an eyebrow up. “You have found some good news in this mess?”
“Someone put a hack into the hack, and now the malware itself is infected. It stopped the attack in its tracks. No one will have to pay ransomware. It happened only an hour ago. Sir, the threat has been eliminated.”
This was a surprise. “Someone was better than Temora? You’re telling me this person made Temora pull out completely?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t know who did it, but I will have a name within the hour. I’ve tracked it through fifteen servers with our new tracking software. I know it came from a server north of London.”
“Yes, yes, every time someone activates a Radulov VPN, we can trace every step they make. So, besides Temora, you’re telling me we now have more people inside our servers?”
“Ah, yes, sir. It seems so, sir.”
Roman took a breath through his nose and shut his eyes. Another as talented as Temora.
“As I said, sir, I’ll have a name within the hour.”
“Give it to me the moment you have it.” Roman gestured to the stairs, a fresh grin on his swarthy face. “After you.”
Raphael scrambled down, his boots ringing on the metal. Roman enjoyed watching Raphael squirm, watching him wonder what was going to happen to him. It gave him no small pleasure to have the power of life and death in his hands. That’s what good computer code was at its heart, anyway, the lifeblood of the machine, the brains, the heart. Without it, the screens wouldn’t light up, and humanity would be lost again.
Roman walked onto the stage, the flying Radulov falcon looming above him. He didn’t say a word, simply stood, waiting. The entire room became silent as death, the only sound the quiet whirring of the air pumps, feeding in fresh oxygen.
When, at last, he spoke, his soft words carried throughout the vast auditorium. “I am very disappointed.”
Dead silence.
The soft voice grew meditative. “A wolf entered our henhouse and created havoc. The name of the wolf is Caleb Temora, a name already known to many of you. He is a brilliant coder and worked extensively with me on MATRIX. You have also doubtless heard he was lost to us five years ago, to ISIS. I have no doubt this attack on MATRIX is his doing—there is no other who could do this amount of damage. His malware attack could have cost our clients billions of pounds, but Mr. Marquez has told me another hacker attacked Temora’s hack and put a stop to it. Who this other person is, we will find out very soon. Regardless, even though he stopped Temora’s hack and demands for ransomware, he could be as great an enemy.
“I had believed MATRIX invulnerable, but someone left a door open and allowed Temora in. Now every client, every computer, every software package in the world is vulnerable. We must do the right thing for our clients, and if that means we’re working twenty-four/seven for the foreseeable future, so be it. There is no overtime”—there were several muffled groans, bold of the buggers, he thought, wished he knew who they were—“no, don’t even think about complaining. We are going to take MATRIX apart. We are going to work relentlessly to find every last bit of malware in our systems. We are going to examine not only Temora’s hack but also the other’s hack as well. Then we are going to reengineer MATRIX to make it perfect, impervious to anyone who wishes us and our clients harm. I want sheer brilliance, and I will accept nothing less. No more ransomware attacks.”
He paused a moment to build drama. “The one among you to find the problem source will receive a year’s salary as a bonus.”
Now the whole room was sitting on the edge of their seats.
“And the person who designs me a code that is truly impenetrable gets ten years’ salary, equal to my salary. Are we clear?”
Audible gasps now. Raphael did some math, felt his heart take off at a gallop. That was somewhere near forty million pounds.
“Temora’s hack of MATRIX makes us look bad. We need to make it clear to our customers that Radulov is stronger and more secure than ever, that MATRIX continues to be indispensable to their livelihoods. Now, get to work.”
Roman gestured toward Raphael, and together they walked from the stage. Roman ignored the buzz of excitement coming from the floor. The offered bonus would get his people working harder than ever, gave them the hope of unimagined riches.