Previous Chapter: Isabelaupdate
This job is just about information collection, nothing more. It’s computer based, but the computer isn’t on any externally accessible network, so the client needs a “black bag” job. Since I’m quite skilled at bypassing alarms, as well as getting in and out without leaving any trace, this is pretty much a perfect match to my skills. Just without any bloodshed. Though I know a decent amount about computers, it’s far from my area of specialty. After breaking in, to case the joint and place bugs, I get a tool from a professional hacker tuned for the specific hardware and software the target is using.
Initially I used social engineering to get in during normal business hours. I made a visit on a spurious delivery and was able to get in and move around. However, the server room with the target computer only has one door and it’s in a highly visible location. Without any plausible reason to be near the door, let alone trying to open it, I discarded that idea. The organization operates 24/7, meaning there isn’t an ideal time to get inside. I study the habits of the late-night workers for a week, to try and find a window where I should be safe to get into the server room.
Since I’m doing most of my observations at night, I have the days “off” to sleep. I’m usually a fairly early person, so when I work a lot at night I tend to sleep less. I don’t feel dopey, fortunately, but I do tend to get more introspective for some reason. I wind up thinking about love, lust and psychopathy. An odd combination, I grant you, but one I feel is most relevant. According to my reading, psychopaths and sociopaths (the distinction isn’t really clear to me) lack empathy and, as such, are incapable of understanding other people’s pain, be it physical or psychological. I don’t feel like I match that description. Perhaps it’s the compartmental thing? When I’m on the job I block out empathy?
I like the conversations I have with Tessa and enjoy the time we spend together. Though much less frequent, the time Isabel and I have spent together has been “dense.” Though there’s certainly a strong current of lust carrying us along, you can only bang like bunnies so much. Thus I feel Isabel and I have also spent a lot of quality time talking and getting to know one another. More time (other than Tessa), I think, than anyone else since I was a child. I think back to that experience with Agatha, discussing my evolving feelings regarding Tessa. We concluded, after a review of the definition in a dictionary, that Tessa and I are friends. I have to imagine if we replicated that process, we’d concluded I’m now friends with Isabel. It’s interesting that it’s taken me this long to have these thoughts.
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Since I’ve already tapped into their security system I can easily get in and out of the building and loop the cameras whenever I need to pass. There won’t be any trace when I break into the server room. I just need to ensure that no one wanders by while I’m in there. Though the late night people do wander at irregular intervals, eventually I find a time that seems to be reproducible where their activities are tied to their terminals. I believe it’s a game they play, or perhaps something online that’s only available at that time. Whatever, at least they all seem to reliably be at their desk for about thirty minutes. More than enough time.
Shortly before the predicted window, I let myself into the building and ease my way toward the server room. Right at the anticipated time, I go to the door and work the lock to get in. Most of these computers are on networks used throughout the building. The one I need is isolated in this room. I plug in the tool my hacker contact gave me, then watch as the lights change color. Red means no contact, yellow means the hack is on-going, steady green means the hack is complete, the green slowly blinking means the data is being retrieved, and when all three start to blink it’s safe to remove it, it’s completed removing any traces of its activities.
I was told to expect ten to fifteen minutes, so look around the room to kill time. Kind of dull, that is until I wander to a desk in the back corner of the room. There’s a large number of pinup pictures; clearly whoever sits back here is a collector. There are some reproductions of classics, and plenty that are more modern. I enjoy looking them over until my internal alarm goes off, telling me the job should be done. Yep, the lights are all blinking. I remove it, work my way out and issue the commands to the security system to reset itself, removing all my adjustments. Only the very best forensic work could reveal that someone was there, no amount will ever reveal exactly what I did.
Returning to my safe house, I upload the collected data and then package the tool for physical delivery as extra insurance for the client. It was a fairly straightforward job, once I caught on to the nightly routine of the workers.