Chapter 8 Chapter 8

"Manual termination?" Susan stared at the display screen, as if in a fog. "Impossible," she murmured.According to the title, the abort order was issued less than twenty minutes ago.Susan knew that she had only entered her personal code for the past twenty minutes.Can a PIN be misinterpreted as an abort command?The idea is ridiculous.But Susan still called up the operation record of "Screen Locker" and carefully checked whether the input of the personal password was correct.The input is correct. "Where is it," she said angrily, "it was manually suspended?" Susan closed the "screen lock" window with an unhappy face.Just as the window was about to close, she suddenly saw something.When she leaves the No. 3 outlet, she will leave a corresponding "locked" login, but the interval between subsequent "unlocked" logins is less than a minute.Susan was sure she would never be out with the Deputy Commissioner for less than a minute.

Susan scrolls down the page.The picture in front of her made her dumbfounded.Logs show that three minutes later, another pair of locked-unlocked logins occurred. The only possibility is that Greg Hale did it.Susan stared at the screen in surprise. In her absence, Hale managed to open the terminal.He issued a "manual abort" command to the tracking program. The question is no longer how he did it, but why he did it.All kinds of questions seemed to multiply in her mind. Do the important stuff first, and deal with Hale later.Susan concentrated, re-downloaded the tracking program, and clicked the "Enter key".The tracking program beeped again.

Tracker sent. Susan scolded Hale and wanted to know how on earth he had gotten his PIN and what he was trying to do with her tracking program. Walking to Hale's terminal and taking a quick glance at the deserted floor of the Cryptography Department, Susan frowned at the blank screen.She suddenly remembered a search engine, and typed in: Search: "tracker".No matching information was found.She tried again.Search: "screen lock". There is no information that Hale has a copy of Susan's PIN on his computer. Susan let out a long sigh.So what program has he been using today?She opens Hale's "Recent Apps" menu.is an email server.Susan found the email folder, and Hale appeared to have countless email identities and accounts.Susan was a little surprised to find that one of them was an anonymous account.She opened the folder, clicked on one of the emails she had received in the past, and suddenly stopped breathing.

To: From: Great progress has been made! The success of "Digital Castle" is imminent. This thing can set the NSA back decades! As if in a dream, Susan read the letter several times.Then, trembling all over, she opened another letter. To: From: The plaintext message was rotated successfully!Variation serial works! This is unbelievable, but it is clearly in front of your eyes. Greg Hale is North Dakota? Susan's eyes were fixed on the computer screen.The evidence is conclusive: Ensei Yuka invented the function of rotating plaintext by using the mutant string, and Hale conspired with him to bring down the National Security Agency.

Hale's words echoed in her ears: Ensei Yuka wrote me several times... One day I will leave here. "But Ensei Yuka..." Susan murmured in bewilderment.Why would someone as suspicious as Ensei Yuka trust someone as unreliable as Hale? Nothing mattered now, what mattered was finding Strathmore. Fate can play tricks, and Ensei Tomika's accomplice is right under our noses.She suddenly realized with surprise that the password of "Digital Castle" was probably hidden somewhere in this computer. Just as Susan closed the last file, she spotted Greg Hale approaching the door.There was a frenzy in her heart.She knew she couldn't get back to her seat right away.Halle will be coming in soon.

Just as the sliding door opened with a "hiss", Susan stopped suddenly in front of the refrigerator and slammed the door open. "What's the matter, Susan? You look ugly." "I...I'm fine." She said reluctantly, her heart beating wildly.Susan knew that if Hale suspected that she had peeked at his terminal, he would think that Susan had discovered his true identity—North Dakota.She was afraid that Halle might do anything to keep that secret a secret. Suddenly, someone banged on the glass wall.It was Chartrukian.He smashed the glass again with his sweaty fist.

Hale frowned at the frantic system security officer outside the window, then turned to Susan and said, "I'll be back in a minute. Get yourself something to drink. You look pale." Hale turned and walked out. Susan steadied herself, turned around, and saw the two standing on the floor of the Cryptography Division talking.A panicked young system security officer is telling the secret to Greg Hale.Susan knew it didn't matter—Hale knew it all. I'm going to Strathmore, she thought, the sooner the better. Outside Branch No. 3, Chartrukian looked desperate.He wanted Hale to believe that TRANSLTR was really in trouble.Susan walked quickly past them with only one thought in mind—to find Strathmore.

The panicked system security officer grabbed her arm violently as she walked by. "Ms. Fletcher! We've got a virus! I'm sure! You should—" Susan broke free from his grip and glared at him fiercely. "I remember the deputy chief ordered you to go home." "But that running monitor! It says eighteen—" A deep voice came down from above. "Mr. Chartrukian?" Above them, Strathmore was standing by the railing outside his office. Susan desperately tries to get Strathmore's attention.Deputy Director!Hale is North Dakota!But Strathmore watched the young system security officer intently.He walked down the stairs without blinking, staring at Chartrukian all the way.He crossed the cryptograph floor and stopped six inches from the trembling technician. "What did you say?"

"Sir," said Chartrukian hesitantly, "the TRANSLTR is in trouble." "Deputy Chief?" Susan interrupted, "May I—" Strathmore waved her off.His eyes were fixed on the system security officer. Phil blurted out, "We have a file that's infected. I guarantee it!" Strathmore turned crimson. "Mr. Chartrukian, we've got this problem solved. There will never be a file to infect TRANSLTR." "Yes, there is!" he exclaimed, "if it goes into the main database—" "Where the hell is this infected file?" Strathmore snarled. "Show me the file!"

Chartrukian hesitated. "I can not." "Of course you can't! That file doesn't exist!" Susan said: "Deputy Director, I must—" Strathmore waved her off again angrily. Still Chattrukian insisted, "The infected files do exist, sir. But 'Gauntlets' were not found." "If 'Gauntlets' weren't found," Strathmore raged, "how do you know the virus exists?" Chartrukian's tone suddenly became more confident. "It's a mutant string, sir. I ran a full scan, and the detector found the mutant string!"

Susan now understood why the system security officer was in such a hurry.Mutation strings are program sequences that can corrupt data in extremely sophisticated ways.Of course, Susan also learned from Ensei Yuka's email that the mutant string seen by Chattrukian would not cause harm—it was just a part of the "digital castle". The system security officer went on to say, "When I first saw those mutant strings, sir, I thought the 'Gauntlet' filter was broken. But then I ran some tests and found..." He paused All of a sudden, he seemed a little uneasy. "I found someone bypassing 'gauntlets' by hand." As soon as the voice fell, the room suddenly fell silent.Strathmore blushed even more.Only Strathmore's terminal in the Cryptography Division could bypass the Gauntlet's filter. Strathmore said coldly: "Mr. Chartrukian, this matter has nothing to do with you. I bypassed the 'gauntlet'." His anger was close to boiling point, and he continued, "I As I told you, I'm running a very advanced diagnostic. The mutations you're seeing are just part of the diagnostic; I put them in. Gauntlet won't let me load that file, so I Just bypasses the filter." Strathmore narrowed his eyes suddenly at Chartrukian. "Now, before you leave, do you have anything else to do?" Susan suddenly realized.Eager to know if Digital Fortress could be cracked, Strathmore bypassed the filter.Generally speaking, bypassing the "gauntlets" is absolutely not allowed.But in the present case, there was no danger of sending Digital Fortress directly into TRANSLTR; the Deputy Director knew exactly what the file was about and where it came from. "While I have great respect for you, sir," said Chartrukian aggressively, "I've never heard of a diagnostic procedure that would use mutation—" "Deputy Director," Susan interrupted suddenly, impatiently, "I really need—" This time, she was interrupted by the harsh ringing of Strathmore's cell phone.The deputy director grabbed the phone. "What happened!" he growled.Then he fell silent and listened to the phone quietly. "Deputy Commissioner?" Chattrukian snapped. "I really think we should check—" "Don't hang up," Strathmore said, apologizing to the man.He covered the microphone with his hand, and looked at the young system security officer viciously. "Mr. Chartrukian," he roared, "this conversation is over. You leave the Cryptography Department for me. Go now. This is an order." Chartrukian froze. "But, sir, mutant string—" "Go now!" growled Strathmore.Chartrukian stared for a moment, unable to speak.Then he stormed toward the System Security lab. Strathmore turned and looked at Hale puzzled.Halle had been quiet--too quiet.Strathmore is clearly curious to know why this is, and Susan has the answer. "Deputy Commissioner," she insisted, "may I tell you—" "Wait a minute," he said, still looking at Halle with puzzled eyes. "I'm going to take this call first." With that, Strathmore turned and walked to his office. On the third floor of the Hotel Alfonso XIII, the man in the wire-rimmed glasses eagerly flipped a switch.His glasses flickered. Target: Rocío Eva Granada—killed. Target: Hans Hubert - Killed. On the first floor of the hotel, David Baker had to make the final decision.Should he give up now?This is about national security.He cursed in a low voice. When walking past the elevator, the elevator doors slid open slowly.There is a man inside.Baker saw only thick wire-rimmed glasses.Baker smiled politely, then walked on... Susan had expected Strathmore to come and talk to her after the phone call, but he was nowhere to be seen.Susan looked up at Strathmore's workstation, knowing that she couldn't wait any longer and it was time to interrupt the deputy chief.She got up and walked to the door. Hale blocks Susan's way. "Tell me what happened?" You know best what happened! "Go away, Greg," she ordered, "I'm going to the bathroom." Susan reluctantly made a detour to the bathroom.Before finding the deputy director, she had to take a detour.Only in this way, Greg Hale will not be suspicious. Chad Brinkerhoff was forty-five, well-dressed, well-informed, and always making a good impression.He's on the ninth floor—the command suite.Although Brinkerhoff always dreamed of a "real" job with the Security Service, he ended up working as a "personal assistant".Deep down, Brinkerhoff knew he was born to be a personal assistant. "Chad?" said a woman standing in the doorway.It was Mitch Milken, Fontaine's internal security analyst.She was sixty years old, and she was still as attractive as ever.She was quick-witted, insightful, worked unbelievably long hours, and was rumored to know better than God the inner workings of the NSA. "The director hopes that these figures will be sorted out before he returns from South America. It will be Monday, early in the morning." She put the printed materials in front of him. "Are you leaving now?" "You know I could have stayed here," said Mitch, stopping at the door, "but I'm a proud man. I don't want to be under anybody—especially under a kid." Brinkerhoff's voice suddenly became hoarse. "Who?" "Carmen? The one in the restaurant?" Brinkerhoff felt his face turn red. "Don't forget, Chad... 'Big Brother' knows it all." "Big Brother" is Mickey's entire world.After experiencing ups and downs, the successive directors of the National Security Bureau discovered that the 26,000 employees under their hands are not only a fortune, but also a burden.Every major security incident in the history of the National Security Bureau is a disaster.As an internal security analyst, it was Mitch's job to monitor everything that happened inside the NSA's high walls. Brinkerhoff opens the first printout.Cryptography Department - Production/Expenses He felt a lot easier all of a sudden.Reports from the Cryptography Department were always easy to come by.The number that the director wants to see is MCD—the average decryption cost.As long as each code cost less than a thousand dollars, Fontaine couldn't care less.Thirty seconds later, he was almost done.But just as he was about to continue checking the next report, something caught his attention. Later in that table, the last average decryption cost is somewhat out of the ordinary.The number is so large that it stretches over to the next column, cluttering the page. Brinkerhoff stared at the figure dumbfounded. 999,999,999?He gasped.billion dollars?A password that cost a billion dollars?Terrified, he rushed into the hallway. "Mickey! Come back!" Phil Chattrukian stood in the Systems Security lab, furious.Strathmore's words echoed in his head: Go now!This is an order! "Diagnostics, fart! If that's the case, when did the deputy director bypass the 'gauntlet' filter!?" Chattrukian's gut told him it must be a virus.He knew all about what had happened: Strathmore had mistakenly bypassed Gauntlet's filter and was now trying to cover it up with the flawed subterfuge of a diagnostic program. If it was only TRANSLTR that worried Chartrukian, he would not be so irritable.While the codebreakers believed that the Gauntlet was built for the sole purpose of protecting their deciphered masterpiece, the folks at System Security knew the truth. Gauntlet's filters also serve a holier God—the NSA's master database. The impenetrable database now houses blueprints for advanced weapons, lists of witnesses to protect, aliases for agents stationed abroad, and detailed analyzes and proposals for covert military operations.The most successful part of the database is not keeping secret data in a safe place, but the data inside can only be used by the appropriate people.All stored information is assigned a corresponding level of security according to the degree of confidentiality, and is used by different government officials according to different levels.People in the system security department have no right to see the information in the database, but they are responsible for the security of the database. Trouble with TRANSLTR meant trouble with the database.Strathmore's indifference is puzzling.There are not many entrances to this hallowed reservoir -- TRANSLTR is one of them. The "Gauntlets" are supposed to play the role of an indestructible Patronus, and Strathmore bypasses it. In this case, Chartrukian knew there was only one person he could call: a senior technical specialist in the NSA Systems Security Division. "Gauntlet" is his masterpiece.I have something to do.He grabbed the phone and dialed Jeba's 24-hour mobile phone number. David Baker was walking aimlessly down Side Avenue. Ahead, a Seville bus screeched to a stop before a stop.Three teenagers emerged from a bar down the street, waving and shouting as they ran to the car.Baker stared straight ahead, unable to believe his eyes.Am I hallucinating. Baker suddenly ran at full speed, and the strange image was locked in his mind - the black lipstick, the exaggerated eye shadow, and the hair... Straight up, forming three distinct peaks.Red, white and blue. "Wait a minute!" he yelled, running after the bus and into the dark compartment. Baker walked over to the girl's seat as the bus passed under a street light.The punk's face suddenly lit up.Baker looked at her with horror on his face.She was not a girl at all, but a young man. Baker felt nauseous, as if disoriented.He stared at the caravan of passengers, at least half of whom had red, white and blue hair. On Side Street a man stepped out of the shadows.He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and stared at the passing bus.With so many buses in Seville, Mr. Baker took the notorious No. 27 bus. The 27 bus has only one destination. Phil Chartrukian slammed the phone shut.Jebba's phone is busy.Turning around and looking at the empty cryptography department floor outside, he felt that time was running out. Cut first and play later.Chartrukian knew what he had to do.There was a virus on the Super Decrypt computer—the system security guy was sure of it.There was only one possible solution to this problem: turn off the TRANSLTR power. Chartrukian knew that there were only two ways to shut down TRANSLTR.One was the deputy director's own terminal, locked in his office.The other is a manual switch, located in a sub-level below the Cryptography Department.He hates subclasses.That was the last place he wanted to be, and Strathmore was the last person he wanted to see, but what he said was what he did. Chartrukian took a deep breath, opened the metal locker of the senior technician of the System Security Department, and took out a Medico key. "A code that cost a billion dollars?" Mickey snickered as he and Brinkerhoff returned to the hall. "You really know how to make up stories." "I swear it's true," he said. Thirty seconds later, Mitch was sitting in Brinkerhoff's chair, poring over the Cryptography Department's report. "See?" He pointed at the number, "This average decryption cost? One billion dollars!" "Looks like a divide-by-zero number." "A what?" "A number that divides by zero," she said, glancing at the rest of the data. "The average decryption cost is calculated as a fraction—the total cost divided by the number of ciphers cracked. When the denominator is zero, the quotient becomes infinite. Computers don't like infinity, so they type All are nines." She pointed to another column, "See that?" Brinkerhoff looked obediently at the column she had pointed out.Number of cracked passwords = 0 Mitch tapped the number. "Just as I thought. A number divided by zero." Brinkerhoff raised an eyebrow. "That is to say, everything is normal?" She shrugged. "Just to show that we haven't cracked a single cipher today. TRANSLTR must be resting." "Rest?" Brinkerhoff looked puzzled. "The TRANSLTR won't rest, it'll just run around the clock. You know that." She shrugged and said, "Maybe Strathmore didn't want it to run on the weekend last night." "Forget it, Mitch." It's no secret that Mitch Milken doesn't like Trevor Strathmore.Strathmore's cunning reprogramming of the Exocet algorithm, despite his bold plans, cost the NSA dearly.And Mickey feels that he has an inescapable responsibility—unapproved behavior happened behind Leland Fontaine's back, and Mickey's job is to monitor everything behind him.Fontaine's hands-off approach to the matter implicated him, too. "Mitch, you know very well that Strathmore is no slouch," Brinkerhoff argued. "He's kind of addicted to running TRANSLTR." Mitch nodded. "Okay, okay," sighed Mitch, "it's all my fault." She frowned, wondering why TRANSLTR hadn't cracked a single code all day. "Let me check one more place," she said, scanning the report.After a while, she nodded. "You're right, Chad. TRANSLTR has been running at full capacity." "Then what's with the number?" "I'm not sure. This is very strange." Mitch began to check the data. "The last code to enter TRANSLTR—" Mickey stopped suddenly, gasping for breath.Brinkerhoff was taken aback. "What's wrong!" Mitch stared at the information on the paper in disbelief. "This file? The file that entered TRANSLTR last night?" "What's the matter?" "That file hasn't been cracked yet. Its waiting time is 23:37:08—but it doesn't show the cracking time." Mitch flipped through the pile of papers in a hurry. "It didn't show up yesterday, and it didn't show up today!" Brinkerhoff shrugged. "Maybe those guys are running a complicated diagnostic program." Mitch shook his head. "Can it last for eighteen hours?" She paused, and then continued, "It's impossible. Besides, the queue data shows that it is a file from the outside world. We should call Strathmore. If it doesn't work, I will As expected, he must have known all about it. I'm sure he's here."