Deadly Invisible Enemies Anthology

By Harold Lea Brown

Deadly Invisible Enemies Anthology

Deadly Invisible Enemies: Evil in the Air (Book 1)

Secrets have deadly consequences, especially in a digital world.

What would soul mates give up to be together?  What would soul mates do to stay together?  On the night of his tenth wedding anniversary Kevin Albright was about to find out.

In an instant, Kevin, a renowned computer security expert, loses a wife and son as security is breached at the highest levels of government.  Kevin suspects the FBI are not sharing the real details about that night and wonders if the U.S. Attorney General knows what is really going on in the Department of Justice.  He vows to get the killers even if they’re in the government and he has to “die” to do it. 

When he is nearly killed, it sets off a high stakes game of 3D cyber chess.  Kevin must play like a chess master to stay alive and close in on an unseen enemy.

Dying to get his wife’s killers, the hunt takes him deep into an invisible underworld.

Deadly Invisible Enemies: Hunt for Evil (Book 2)

Secrets have deadly consequences, especially in a digital world.

What would you do if you—lost everything?  Were haunted by demons and hunted by an invisible enemy?  Could not trust the FBI or the U.S. Attorney General?  Kevin Albright was about to find out.

Kevin’s world is turned upside down, and the search for answers only leaves more questions and doubts.  The hunt takes him deep into an invisible underworld where he teams up with a woman who shares a common haunting past and a remarkable resemblance to his wife.  But she is hiding a secret, a secret that could kill him.  He knows the only way to locate and force the killers out into the open is to match their ruthlessness and cunning—and then destroy them, and their network, before the clock runs out and they execute their next deal. 

As Kevin closes in on the killers, he discovers evidence that their next deal is about to be launched.  The potential target area—the U.S. east coast which includes twenty-six nuclear facilities, four liquefied natural gas terminals and major high-density population cities—New York, Philadelphia, Boston and Washington.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harold Lea Brown
• Release date: May 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9780993860546

Harold Lea Brown

Harold Lea Brown believes that story is life well told and a way to explore the human condition.  It has always been a part of who he is—it is in his blood.  In his teens, he told story through music when he played in a rock band.  Later he told story through award winning poetry and used story as a way of communicating corporate history and vision as a chief business strategist.  He has also published award winning technical articles in the field of information management where he received the Infomatics Award for advancing the information management field.  His family roots are Norwegian and Finnish, where story is core to passing on history to future generations. In 2017, Harold was named one of “The Top 100 Indie Writers in the World,” in a multimedia book published by Del Weston and Theresa Weston on iTunes.  In the past ten years his writing has been recognized at more than fifty film festival and screenwriting events in Canada, the United States, Mexico, Australia, the United Kingdom, the Netherlands and Spain.  His award-winning work includes feature length screenplays, teleplays, web series and miniseries, spanning the drama, thriller, crime/mystery, action/adventure and comedy genres.   His sub genre specialties include government, politics and technology—fields he has worked in for more than thirty years.   He has studied producing and various storytelling formats, appearing in Canadian, U.S. and international television and film productions.  He is the recipient of the Gerri Cook Memorial Award for the Most Promising Producer and is a producer of television, feature and new media projects. His first two novels in the Deadly Invisible Enemies (DIE) techno-thriller series received the international 2016 eLit Silver Medal Book Award for best anthology.  Harold is currently developing a multi-platform series based on his DIE techno-thriller series and a television drama series inspired by Louis Riel, based on an award winning screenplay he has written.

Book preview

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Copyright © 2014 by Harold Lea Brown

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or any similarity of events depicted herein to real life incidents, are purely coincidental.

First Printing, 2014

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Author’s Bio

Deadly Invisible Enemies: Hunt for Evil

Dedication

To my storyteller journey supporters and to the two people who encouraged me to pursue my dream and write, and whose actions challenge and inspire me to be a better person every day in every way—my late mother,  Helmi, and my soul mate, Jane.

Acknowledgement

Special thanks to Greg Banks for cover artwork, formatting and sage advice in publishing this novel.

Prologue

Fifteen hundred youth delegates under the age of twenty listened to Kevin Albright’s opening remarks to the Twenty-Second International Youth Conference on Global Security, while keyboarding on their smartphones, tablets and notebooks. Although he hoped they were all capturing the salient points he was presenting, he knew his young audience was part of the often-labeled A.D.D. generation—he preferred to call them multitaskers.

It was the last time Kevin spoke at such an open public forum, before a flourishing and invisible cyber domain operated by a new breed of crime boss placed him in their crosshairs.

In the nineteenth century, Kevin said, a frog was placed into a pot of cold water. The heat was slowly turned up and before the frog realized it, he was boiled alive.

Ooh, boiled frog—that’s disgusting, a very young delegate near the front of the room said.

You’re right, it was disgusting, Kevin said. "So is our inability to learn and react to significant changes that occur gradually. It is a test humanity has faced through the centuries. Time and again, we have been lulled into a false sense of security and in the twenty-first century, this has never been more true. Today, the virtual reality is that computer and telecommunications technology has leapfrogged the globe’s ability to protect critical assets and information."

Kevin stopped speaking, stepped out from behind the podium and walked to the edge of the stage.

"Think about that for one moment. Right now, no country, no government, no business and no individual who use something as basic as a computer or telephone are able to guarantee their communications are not being compromised. I am willing to bet that while you are here today, at a security conference, in Washington D.C., discussing cyber security, many of you have let your guard down—been lulled into a false sense of security."

Kevin paused and scanned the audience. He could tell most were skeptical and it was something he had already anticipated.

"How many of you are using a wireless network called ‘Security Conference’ right now?" he asked.

Almost every delegate raised a hand.

OK, Kevin paused, as he watched several delegates near the front of the room engrossed in smartphone texting sessions. He continued, "Many do not realize, or choose not to believe, they have a problem. So what does that mean for you?"

Kevin surveyed the audience. His smartphone vibrated. He pulled the phone out, glanced at the screen, smiled and keyed in a command and put it way.

We live in an age where you have never been more connected to each other—chat rooms, social networking and messaging. You spend a minute here, a minute there—hours every day on your smartphone.

Kevin’s smartphone vibrated again and he pulled it out.

It can be rude, intrusive and downright annoying, he said.

He waved his smartphone in the air.

"There are more than one billion of these in use worldwide. This little device knows more about you than anyone, even more than your parents."

Some in the audience laughed.

It owns your soul, Kevin continued. Forget about George Orwell and 1984 and big government. Everyone in cyberspace knows where you are if they want to know where you are.  They know what you are doing, and if you are texting, they know what you are thinking. When I was your age, Kevin paused as some in the audience snickered, "and that was only a few years ago, I innocently believed that computers and the Internet were the greatest gifts to humankind. Now, I realize there is a big flip side. On any given day and moment, technology can be turned against you. Criminals and foreign interests have never had access to the kind of technology and opportunities they now have to conduct twenty-four seven surveillance, intrude in to every aspect of your lives, and steal personal and important confidential data. Events once rationalized as coincidence or random chance might just as easily be intentional, as a result."

Hey, my phone just died, a delegate said.

Kevin paused and faced in the delegates’ direction.

Another smartphone started playing music. The phone’s owner frantically tried to turn the phone off, but the music just played louder.

Kevin slowly panned the audience, stopping periodically to watch delegates react as strange digital sounds erupted from their devices. A growing chorus of smartphone ringtones soon filled the auditorium and sounded like a badly tuned orchestra.

The cyber world you inhabit is a very dangerous place, Kevin continued. You don’t know who the enemy is or what they look like. Every day it’s harder to figure out whom you can trust. It is a place where the bullets are invisible and the battlefield is right in your own backyard. There are no rules of engagement. When you’re hit, you may not even know it—at least not initially.

Kevin paused and glanced at his smartphone, then looked directly at the delegate whose phone had just died. Then he looked at the broader audience as smartphone owners tried to silence their ringtones.

Now, was that just a coincidence, random chance or intentional? he said. A wave of murmurs and whispers spread like wildfire through the auditorium as Kevin walked back to the podium.

This is the new reality, virtual reality—where time, distance and location mean nothing. Where computer trafficking is more lethal than drug trafficking. Where crime and terrorism are a global electronic game played, won or lost in nanoseconds. In this new reality, there is no room for complacency.

Kevin glanced at his smartphone again and continued, "Yet, I know that most, if not all of you, in this room use a smartphone to freely exchange information. You probably believe the telecommunications companies have got your back, and your communications are secure—right Robert1011?"

What? a voice from the audience said.

Well, in the few minutes I have been speaking to you, I and my associate, Wayne Helmes—he’s seated at the back of the room, have hacked into and captured dozens of text message sessions going on in this room. And Robert1011, your meet up with Foxy999 tonight—

Oh no, a female delegate said.

How did you do that? an embarrassed delegate asked. He was obviously Robert1011.

Kevin nodded to the back of the hall and Wayne stood up to answer.

One of the most basic, and older I might add, tricks of the trade, Wayne said. We set up a fake wireless network in the room and called it ‘Security Conference.’ As soon as you came into the room, your smartphone found the network signal. Every keystroke, every picture, every email, every text message you sent since you entered the room has been captured.

And Robert1011, I know where, when and what to bring, Kevin said as he winked.

A number of men in the audience laughed, but many in the audience sat in silence—the response Kevin expected. There would always be those who underestimated the potential threat that something smaller than a cigarette pack presented.

"Robert1011, you could have a thousand people show up for the party," Kevin added.

No more public wifi, the embarrassed delegate replied.

Kevin slowly panned the crowd.

"It is better to have happened in here than out there, he said. I could just as easily have said nothing to Robert1011 and he would be none the wiser that I had electronically eavesdropped on his plans. This happens hundreds of times every minute and hour of the day."

Using that same fake network, Kevin paused and then turned dead serious, I could have also scooped up your contact lists—names, addresses and phone numbers, your personal photos—hopefully none are x-rated guys,

A few men in the audience laughed nervously.

Bank account information and worse yet passwords to your personal secrets, Kevin continued, basically everything about you. I could make your life, and your friend’s lives, a living hell. I charge thousands a day for a lesson you just got free. A little bonus included in the price of admission to this conference. For some, it will be the best investment in your life—for some, it will save your life.

There was dead silence in the room.

I could have also been thousands of miles away, in China or Russia, and sold your entire life to someone for a few thousand rubles—less than two hundred bucks.

Kevin walked toward the audience.

"As young people interested in security and the role governments play in global security, you also need to know that governments are not infallible either. Many citizens—your parents and grandparents, still believe that all the confidential information entrusted to governments and public institutions is being safely stored and protected. How can that be given the statement I just made? No country, no government, no business and no individual who uses something as basic as a computer or telephone is able to guarantee their communications are not being compromised."

"But how can that be?" a voice screamed from the back of the hall.

Exactly, Kevin responded. In this day and age, how is that possible?

Kevin stared out at the audience. Maybe he had gone too far for such a young crowd. If it saved one life or even prevented one crime, he had not.

Well, I, and every other computer security consultant, if they are truthful, will tell you that no amount of computer programs or firewalls will protect you or I from the biggest vulnerably in cyberspace—ourselves.

Some delegates in the audience politely laughed, others were still trying to turn off their smartphone, and others sat in silence, as if reflecting on what vulnerabilities their past actions in cyberspace had created.

"So, it is people, not technology, that are both the problem and the solution to protecting humanity in cyberspace. And it is young people such as each of you, who offer promise and hope in tackling the global security issues we face. I know I will never be able to convince you to give up your smartphone, or tablets, but you can all start tackling global security today by practicing safe texting."

Kevin started to leave the podium and the audience broke into applause. He stopped. A mischievous smile appeared and he returned to the podium. The audience went silent.

Robert1011, I know your phone went dead. You can turn it back on—but how do you know I didn’t plant a seed in your phone? Maybe I’ll turn your phone into a microphone when you meet up with Foxy999 and join the party—remotely.

Kevin winked at Robert 1011 and said, I’ll be around if you want to talk about it.

He smiled to himself as he walked off the stage and heard delegates talking about what they had just learned—some were shocked, others anxious and some vowed to be more careful when using their smartphone. For Kevin, this spelled mission accomplished.

Chapter 1

Power oozed from the night-lights and familiar landmarks of the Washington, D.C. skyline—the Capitol Building, J. Edgar Hoover Building, Supreme Court Building, and across the Potomac, the Pentagon. All were visible from the top floor of the East Coast Power Corporation Building, the newest, brightest lit, and tallest building in the city, except for the Washington Monument.

Kevin Albright ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair for what seemed like the fiftieth time, as if this would keep the frustration from pouring out of his high-tech mind. It was another board meeting running late into the night. He looked quickly at his watch, 12:23 a.m., and then turned his attention back to the East Coast Power Corporation Board of Directors. They seemed very disinterested in the huge electronic wall map of the Washington, D.C. Power Grid.

The black flecks in his green eyes glistened as he surveyed the boardroom table—all men, all gray-haired. Damn it, he thought, we’re under siege and these gray-haired old farts would rather talk about tee times and golf scores. They’re dismissing me. Wiser? Old men with gray hair are wiser! Right. It seemed to be a never-ending battle, trying to get Senators and boardroom decision-makers to understand the gravity of the situation. What could they really know about computers? They’re all over sixty, twice his age. He gave himself a little pep talk. OK, Albright, let it go. They are ‘old school’, but in a minute they’ll be on board. They’ll understand the power of new technology—the error of their ways, the potential hell it can cause in the wrong hands, if they don’t pay attention to the recommendations being made to beef up their systems security.

Kevin turned to look at the electronic wall map. Lit up like a Christmas tree in winter, hundreds of solid green lights suggested a routine night, with a city feasting on the power the Corporation loved to deliver.

He reached inside his black premium designer suit jacket and pulled out a smartphone. A couple of quick clicks, and it was time to destroy the perfect evening. He took one last look around the room, then punched the SEND button on his smartphone touch screen.

The screen flashed back, ALBRIGHT NETWORK PACK OPERATIONAL.

Let the old farts watch this in real time, he thought, experience it as it plays out on the electronic wall map in front of them.

Kevin’s smartphone flashed again, SHUT DOWN OF D.C. GRID SWITCHES ACTIVATED.

Like a dynamite fuse, an electronic line darted across the wall map, and one-by-one it turned the green lights red.

Kevin nodded toward the windows and a brightly lit skyline. In perfect harmony, as the green lights on the electronic wall map turned red, blocks of the lit skyline sequentially went black. He watched the old farts stare out the window as their neurotransmitters tried to draw the link between what he had just done and what was happening out there, but he was not finished yet. Now it was time for the last assault, while some would find it insulting, it was necessary.

Gentlemen, Kevin said, motioning the board directors to look at the ceiling lights just as the room went instantly dark and silent.

That’s, that’s impossible! the board chair said from somewhere in the darkness.

The only way to prove it was to actually take a few grid substations out, Kevin replied as he waited for the emergency generators to kick in.

The room went dead quiet, as if everyone in the room had their life support system turned off and they had died instantly. Almost as immediately as the room went black, it lit back up as the lights flickered back on.

The snap, crack of ice cubes dancing in a glass broke the silence, as the board chair filled his glass with water.

Kevin whipped around to the sound of the ice cracking and was face-to-face with the board chair. Kevin swallowed hard to calm a sudden gag reflex. He reached for his glass of water and took a gulp to mask his body’s involuntary reaction.

Onions do it every time, he said trying to make light of the moment. He took another drink of water and then he quickly got back on topic. Bet you thought you’d seen it all.

No, I was thinking, ‘Wish this was scotch,’ the board chair said after a moment.

Some board members politely laughed, but quickly turned their full attention back to Kevin.

He really was young to be a global computer security expert, and the skate blade-like scar on his cheek suggested he had already put his all-American body through a hard life. He motioned to the electronic wall map; all the lights had turned to flashing red.

Now you understand why I had to call the National Infrastructure Protection Center—that’s why NIPC Agent Matt Arnet is here.

The board chair looked around the table.

He didn’t even use a computer, he said as he nodded at Kevin.

This is the new weapon of choice, Kevin said as he waved his smartphone at the shaken board members. I can access and hijack anyone’s smartphone, computer or network. Some call it cyber phishing—I prefer to call it bait and switch. Just send an email and wait for someone to open it.

He glanced over at his business partner, Wayne Helmes. Unlike the board members, his silver gray hair spoke to the seasoned computer professional he was, not his birth age. He had been Kevin’s mentor for his entire working career. Kevin liked to tell his clients that Wayne ate computer bugs for breakfast.

Kevin gave Wayne a quick nod. It was time to launch into their well-orchestrated tag-team part of the presentation.

Wayne jumped to his feet and immediately began.

In East Coast Power’s case, an employee just opens the email, we’re past the firewall and it launches a remote access tool program–

A digital RAT, Kevin added.

The RAT searches for your power grid switches, Wayne continued.

Using twenty-first century technology, Kevin held up his smartphone, we take control of the power grid and turn your innocent looking 1960’s infrastructure into a cyber weapon.

1980’s retrofitted substations! the board chair interjected.

1960’s, 1980’s, hell 1990’s retrofit—it doesn’t matter, Wayne said. Those power control switches were never designed with Internet connectivity or security in mind. The Internet didn’t exist!

That’s your weakest link, gentlemen, Kevin said. People who can’t resist opening an email—or do it on purpose, and connecting the switches that control your power distribution, to the Internet.

Kevin looked over at Matt Arnett, the expert from the Feds he had brought in. Matt was a National Infrastructure Protection Center agent, or NIPC agent for short. As far as Kevin was concerned, Matt was NIPC’s top agent. A former CIA agent, he had quit so he could use his tech savvy in cyber warfare. The dark circles under his eyes suggested he was not getting a lot of sleep.

And that’s how the entire east coast power grid is managed, Matt said as if on cue. Security, if any, is basic, usually just a three-letter password that everyone on shift knows.

That’s if they change the default password, Wayne added. Otherwise, anyone can look up the default password in the user manuals on the Internet.

Kevin studied the board chair, sipping his water. He was probably trying to hide the shock he was experiencing—wondering what he would tell the shareholders. Kevin had seen this play out at virtually every board meeting he attended in the last few years. Boardrooms filled with greedy capitalists trying to maximize the bottom-line for their shareholders. They would veto any requests by the Information Technology Departments to invest in major upgrades to secure their networks. Worse yet, many corporations like East Coast Power, had implemented a series of patchwork fixes to use the Internet as a means for managing critical business process control systems, such as a power grid. These fixes left thousands of switches that route, control and deliver East Coast’s electricity to towns and cities up and down the east coast, vulnerable.

The board chair reflected for a moment.

Nine million, he said as he slowly turned to Kevin, that’s the number of people you’d hit in under nine minutes with your cell phone at our New York center.

Smartphone! Kevin shot back. And try nine million in nanoseconds. The real kicker is the grid’s security is so basic we have no way of knowing who did it. And if it wasn’t for the fact the lights went out tonight you wouldn’t even know you were hit.

In the wrong hands, these are weapons firing invisible bullets, Matt said pointing his smartphone like he was Dirty Harry holding 44 Magnum.

The board chair pulled his smartphone out and examined it closely.

Jesus, the board chair said, I bought my six-year-old grandson one of these. He uses it to play games.

Six-year-olds carrying around smartphones—playing electronic games over the Internet. What ever happened to just playing baseball? Kevin thought. If this guy knew those things were capable of detonating bombs, maybe he’d think twice about giving one to his grandson. He had this discussion with Wayne after Christy, Wayne’s wife, wanted to buy a smartphone to keep track of their rambunctious two-year-old. Kevin and Wayne both agreed this was a bad move on a number of levels and would take every opportunity to educate naïve parents and grandparents about the dangers of these ill-informed decisions, which in effect could make the grandkids unknowing accomplices to crime.

Kevin nodded toward Wayne.

My partner’s wife thought their two-year-old needed one to keep track of him at the mall.

For some reason, maybe the sense of panic, several board members laughed. Others seemed to be in some sort of time warp. Maybe they were the last people on earth who never owned a cell phone, or maybe they were thinking of ways to take back the smartphones they had bought for their grandkids as Christmas presents.

Personally, Kevin said as he paused and then turned deadly serious, "knowing that deadly invisible enemies inhabit these things—I call DIEphones, I’d never give anyone I really cared about one of these. He held up his smartphone and looked directly into the board chair’s eyes, I only use it for demonstration purposes."

Chapter 2

Brian Dempster stood at his twenty-sixth floor corner office window, surveying his turf – Arlington County in the Commonwealth of Virginia. From the top floor of his fortress, he watched the skyline to the northeast across the Potomac River. It was recovering from some sort of power outage and block-by-block sections of Washington, D.C. lit back up.

In his sixties, he preferred Big D, a fitting name, as he was overweight for the suit he wore. He was on the phone. He was always on the phone wheeling and dealing, buying and selling information to the highest bidder. He loved the business. It was less dangerous and more profitable then anything he had done as a drug baron. He often chuckled to himself amazed at the good fortune that fell into his lap.

He had set up a company called International Antiques, which allowed him to legitimately deal in antiques. It had become the perfect cover for his information brokering business and his travel around the world. In addition to getting filthy rich, he was also able to pursue his hobby, collecting ancient swords, knives and other weapons of war. His long swords hung on the wall and smaller swords sat inside glass cases. His executive sized desk displayed smaller treasures and a strange looking knife holder on his coffee table held five knives with assorted bone, ivory and wooden handles.

As he talked with his newest client, the I Man, he could hear the faint whine of an aircraft engine in the background on his phone. He had met the I Man on a couple of occasions. He was a tall Chinese mercenary—eerie looking—a man who looked like the devil himself, in human flesh. However, he was prepared to pay millions for Big D’s services—so Big D did not dwell on the devil, as the life he had led would guarantee that he would meet him soon enough.

* * * * *

In the darkness, the whine of an aircraft engine grew louder as it approached the Almaty Nature Reserve in Kazakhstan. Known for its unique landscape, the reserve offered a mix of glaciers, firn basins, rocks and desert, and for those wanting to hide their business activities, the sand barkhans. One hundred fifty meters high, these highly mobile sand dunes shifted daily with the winds, making it impossible for anyone, other than those with inside intelligence, to locate the airstrip.

A series of ground lights flashed on and off, and the aircraft’s landing lights turned on as it made its final approach to the landing strip on the desert-like section of the reserve valley. The blast of light revealed a hardened dirt landing strip running between the sand barkhans and the I Man, dressed in military khakis. A Chinese made QBZ-95 assault rifle hung off his right shoulder.

The cold air turned his breath to vapor as he watched the aircraft approach. He was on a cell phone.

Big D, they’re still looking for a major air attack, the I Man said.

But power grids? Big D replied.

The I Man smiled.

Ever go duck hunting? he asked.

Whenever I can I Man, whenever I can, Big D said.

Then you know, if you’re gonna be successful, you need decoys, lots of decoys, the I Man said as he watched the aircraft drop to the ground. It