[Norway] Private Eyes.

[Vaka]

​

The hazy blue light from his computer monitor wrapped around stale cigarette smoke and poured into his cell like apartment. It was the only light apart from an array of blinking yellow lights from various internet routers and hard-drive indicators. Seemingly endless cables formed a patchwork forest from one stack of computers to another. Snaking around empty energy drink cans and makeshift ashtrays leading to a fold out table being used as a desk. In an mahogany wood chair once a part of some expensive dining set, sits the lone inmate of his own personal prison. The smoke alone was enough to stain everything it touched with the acrid smell of cheap tobacco. Well apart from the young man himself who hadn’t bathed since the last time he had left his apartment. He stopped for a moment to scratch at his neck stubble only to then resume the repetitive click-clack of his keyboard that speeds up and slows down seemingly dependent on his familiarity with each individual line of code. Intense sounds of drum and bass rhythms seep from around his headset, helping to induce a trance with the lines of code streaming across the screen.

Network security from the eighties. Embarrassing. I’m probably not the first to have done this…If you think about it, I’m doing them a favor. I bet they offer me a job once I’m done. Ah there, the directory of embassy email addresses. Just need to spoof a few of these. Done.

Over the past two years he had meticulously birthed this devastating little worm from an idea whilst he was in America attending The Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He had been awarded a international scholarship shortly before graduation from this small highschool in Fauske, Norway. He majored in network security as he hoped he would land a job with one of the many industry giants in Silicon Valley. His excitement soon turned to dread as this quiet Norwegian teenager soon realized that he was out of his depth. He struggled to earn passing grades during his first two years and only a quarter into his third he was on the verge of losing his scholarship.

He came up with an idea. He would use what he had learned so far and put a keylogger on each of his professors computers and would have all of the answers for his next exams. He couldn’t just walk up to each laptop and install the keylogger. So he put an injector onto an email attachment of a man dressed as a banana. If the professor opened it, the program would silently install itself in the background of the Windows operating system. Surely his professors wouldn’t fall for such an obvious attack, but who would imagine a student being so brazen? He figured one way or another it was the only way to get through.

He went about sending the emails two weeks before final exams. Much to his surprise, two of the three professors with whom he had emailed the picture too opened it. He checked his host computer to make sure the software was logging. Before his very eyes he could see everything that they were typing. A rush of adrenaline roared through his veins. It had actually worked. With this information, he was able to obtain the full question and answer document from both of the professors as they produced it. He prepared himself with the revealed information and awaited the next morning's exams. Shortly before the first exam was to take place, while sitting near the back of the lecture hall, the dean and two security staff entered and began speaking with the professor. The dean gestured towards him. It was then he knew he had screwed up.

The one professor who hadn’t opened up the email, thought it looked suspicious. She traced the source of the email directly back to him. He was quickly questioned and when pressed he crumbled and admitted to what he had done. His scholarship was revoked and he was expelled from the University. He was sent back home to Fauske. He stayed with his parents while working at a local computer repair shop struggling to make ends meet. For the next two years, he would work on perfecting his keylogging software and injection methods. He knew that in the right hands classified information could make him quite a lot of money. After nearly two years of testing and preparation, he had set his sights on the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Relations.

Oh this one looks good. Norwegian Ambassador to the United States. Knut Vollebæk, you are gonna make history buddy.

Back in the dreamlike ambient light of his apartment, he reached across a cigarette resting on the rim of a Pepsi can, to grab a cell phone that was charging. Carefully unplugging the charging lead so as to not knock down any of the nest of garbage that was accumulating on his desk, he slid open the aging phone. He selected the one and only number that was saved there. The number had a South African calling code. He then hit send on the tiny greasy buttons. He leaned back, stretching his legs waiting for his partner to answer. He wondered what SANDSHARK looked like. He always imagined someone quite like himself but maybe older. They had met in a chat room, discussing the Swedish occupation of South Africa. They both clearly felt like they needed to turn to cyberspace in order to accomplish their goals. SANDSHARK had been a wellspring of knowledge. He helped him learn to spoof calls and email addresses. He had even..

Hello?

Yeah, it's me.

I was asleep.

I just wanna make sure you still have the VPN running.

Why would I turn it off?

I don’t know, maybe you lost power or something.

I didn’t lose power.

Ok, Cool. I just wanted to check.

Are you doing the delivery?

Uh Yeah..Yeah.

Better not get caught.

I won’t.
Beep. Phone call ends.

He closed the phone and plugged it back up, disappearing back into the clutter of the desk. Fiddling with his fingernails for a moment, he sighed and reached for a pack of smokes he hoped had at least one left. Finding one he slid his hand into his t-shirt pocket fumbling around for a lighter.

Steady. Can’t go back now. Just get on with it.

Classified and Encrypted
​

---

To: Michael Walsh, Assistant Secretary of State for European Affairs.
Cc:
Subject:
From: Knut Vollebæk, Norwegian Ambassador to the United States. Odinson

---

Good Morning Mr. Walsh, I regret to inform you of a break in at our Embassy located on 2720 34th St NW, Washington, DC 20008. No one was injured during the break-in but a large number of sensitive government documents have been stolen. The local police have done a full report with statements from who were in and around the embassy that night. I have attached it below. Incident Report for April 20, 2001 01101001 01101110 01101010 01100101 01100011 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01110000 01101100 01100101 01110100 01100101 00101110 00100000 01110010 01100101 01101101 01101111 01110100 01100101 00100000 01100001 01100011 01100011 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01100111 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110100 01100101 01100100 00101110 00100000 01101011 01100101 01111001 01101100 01101111 01100111 01100111 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01100111 01110010 01100101 01110011 01110011 00101110 We would like to work closely with your office to find out who did this and why. Thank you for your time! Knut Vollebæk Norwegian Ambassador to the United States Kingdom of Norway

 

[Odinson]

Private​

It was unusual for assistant secretaries of state to receive direct diplomatic traffic - in fact this was the first direct diplomatic message that Assistant Secretary Walsh had gotten in 2001. These kinds of messages, however, were not totally unknown. Walsh was on his computer at the Hary S. Truman building in Washington D.C. The computer was connected to a secure State Department network which had its own encryption, secure access, and also a way to identify every computer connected to the network - connecting to the network itself would of course require direct hardwire access, or the ability to find access to the secure portal and log in with a unique password for a person and get past the triple authentication for access. While it would be difficult and it would probably be caught pretty quickly, it wasn't out of the theoretical realm of possibility to install a keylogger on government computer - the software would have to be good, though, for it to go unnoticed for any significant period of time.

Assistant Secretary Walsh read, and then reread, the message. He printed it, and then he opened the attachment and, instead of seeing an incident report from the D.C. police, he saw what looked to him to be a random strong of code. He was confused, and tried reopening it, until he realized that it may be some kind of malware. He panicked and wasn't sure what to do, so he just turned off his computer.

From his office on a secure line, Walsh called the IT Department in the building. Within minutes, someone was upstairs. The young man in a blue collared shirt unplugged the computer's ethernet cable and ensured it was not connected, in any way, to the State Department's server or the internet. Then, he turned it back on and opened the email. He viewed the attachment and sighed, "Yeah... this might be an issue."

While Walsh was worried if he had compromised the State Department's computer system, he was also concerned about the message itself. He called Deputy Secretary Charlie Price and told him that he was coming up to his office with something urgent. Walsh shared the message with Price and explained that the attachment was bogus. Price decided to have Secretary Fitzgerald's staff in London securely informed of the situation, and that he was taking care of it.

Deputy Secretary Price informed the Diplomatic Security Service of the message. Their interpretation was that, among other things, it could possibly be a veiled threat that something would happen, or that there was an actual emergency that was ongoing. The DSS first asked if there was any kind of report of a break in at the Norwegian Embassy in the past week - the D.C. Metropolitan Police said there was no record in their department. The Met would dispatch four units which would escort a SUV carrying four DSS special agents. An additional two uniformed units were also dispatched to the Swedish Embassy, in the event that there was some kind of confusion - the Swedes would be securely informed that there had been a possible threat made to the Norwegian Embassy, and that the police were coming to secure the area outside of their embassy, but that no threat had been made against them.

Deputy Secretary Price then made a secure call to the embassy and requested to speak to the Ambassador immediately. He would inform him that they received a message from him saying that there had been a break in, and that Metro PD was on the way to secure the street that the embassy was on, and that four DSS agents were coming to investigate. He point-blank asked him over the phone if the message was real, and if he had attached anything to the email. Regardless of his answer, he requested that the DSS agents be allowed to enter the embassy in order to ensure that there was no emergency going on.

Within twenty-five minutes of Assistant Secretary Walsh printing the message, the police were arriving in front of the Norwegian Embassy in Washington. Their guns weren't drawn, but two units did close the street while the other two squad cars pulled up directly in front of the embassy in a defensive position with the officers standing behind their opened doors. If they would be allowed in, the four DSS agents would simply approach the front door and wait to be greeted.

This kind of incident would not be ignored and would soon be the focus of local news.

The State Department's IT Department securely contacted the FBI and requested assistance with evaluating the message and ascertaining its origin. Throughout this time, the computer would remain off.

Vaka

 

[Odinson]

Connor

 

[Vaka]

His hands were sweaty, and his heart raced. He tapped quickly with both hands on the underside of the table while staring at the screen as if his life depended on it. It was just a blinking cursor. But the blinking cursor of his host monitoring program. If the fool on the other end had taken the bait, that blinking cursor would instantly be replaced by all of the keystrokes made on that terminal. The wait was insufferable. His hands sift around empty cigarette packs, hoping to find one more.

Blink

Blink

Blink

Blink

Backspace. Enter. Escape. Enter. Enter. Alt-F4.

He bellowed with excitement. Holy Moly It worked. I can’t believe that worked.

With a rush of new found energy, he lunged for his phone. Spilling untold horrors from the now months old cans he quickly called his partner.

You have to stop calling me.

I’m in.

What already?

Yeah, first try. I have control over a terminal in the freaking Hary Truman building. I’m watching the guy type right now.

You're gonna get caught, this was way too easy.

I can’t believe this, it worked.

..and if you get caught they are gonna come after me first.

You're in the middle of South Africa, they aren’t gonna go looking into a war zone.

Your traffic IP is routed through here, yes. But we should piggy back my connection onto a guy I know in Russia. He really won’t care.

Wait…What the?

What happened?

I dunno if something is wrong. I’ll call you back.

He sat slumped as if just given a life ending diagnosis. He stared at the screen.

CONNECTION LOST.​

---

2720 34th St NW, Washington, DC 20008 Norwegian Embassy

Ambassador Vollebæk had just finished his favorite mid morning snack, two glazed Krispy Kreme donuts. He had developed a practical love affair with the American fast food dessert. His position within the Foreign Ministry had landed him in what he deeply considered the best job he could ever possibly hope for, Norwegian Ambassador to The United States. He smiled and started to go over his emails. A secretary came rushing into the room, almost tripping over the Guiana Chestnut plant he had right in front of the door so as to not be disturbed. “Ambassador Vollebæk!” gasped the stout young woman with strawberry hair, “The American Deputy Secretary Charlie Price is on the phone and he says it's extremely urgent.” The Ambassador's heart sank as his mind raced with possible reasons for the call. “This can be good,” he lamented. “Put him through!”

The conversation completely baffled the Ambassador. He was clearly working from a different set of facts than the deputy secretary. The Ambassador assured the deputy that no break in had occurred and nothing had been stolen. He welcomed the offer of DSS doing a quick search of the grounds to make sure nothing had happened. He would just insist that they work with our embassy security staff and share any information found. All embassy security staff would be summoned and instructed to work with the DSS agents and get to the bottom of what on earth was going on. When the DSS agents arrived, they would be greeted by the Head of Embassy security and Ambassador Vollebæk.

Please gentlemen. Come in. Come in. What on earth is going on?

Odinson