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Hacked
Hacked
Hacked
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Hacked

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It's 1998 and someone is getting into the computer at General Automotive, the largest manufacturer in the World. Brad Stapleton VP keeps blocking the hacker, but somehow he keeps getting in. Brad thinks it's someone on the inside, someone with administrative privileges is helping. He suspects the financial manager, but he is known as a computer illiterate. Firewalls are beefed up, new security measures are taken, but still the hacker gets in. Eventually the break-ins cause a large loss of production due to parts being shipped to the wrong plant and Brad is fired. Criminal charges are brought forth. Brad starts his own business and still tries to determine who the hacker is. Eventually things come to light and Brad finds the hacker, but someone is still getting in. Will he find the hacker?

This story takes place in 1998 and later. when the Internet was new and Internet hacking was just getting started.
Other books by Richard Porter Ray Underground, Sail With the Devil, Improper Implant. If you post a review here, good or bad, I will give you a free book. Instructions are at the end of the book.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 17, 2016
ISBN9781311806390
Hacked
Author

Richard Porter Ray

Born in Clearwater Florida in 1935 in the midst of the great depression. Moved to Houston when I was six and lived there until graduation from U of H in 1967. Married my wife Lori in 1963 and had many happy years. She passed away in 1998 and I sold my business and moved to Florida. Along the way I was writing tech books and other writings. I started writing novels and have finished four so far. It is one of my very enjoyable hobbies and I hope my readers enjoy them too.

Read more from Richard Porter Ray

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    Book preview

    Hacked - Richard Porter Ray

    Hacked

    A Novel

    Smashwords Edition

    ISBN: 9781311806390

    Copyright 2016 Richard Porter Ray

    This Ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, then please destroy it and buy your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Other EBooks by Richard Porter Ray

    Underground

    Sail With the Devil

    Implant

    Available at most bookstores

    Coming Soon

    The Regeneration

    Table of Contents

    Chapter 1 The Insiders

    Chapter 2 Firewall Builder

    Chapter 3 Testing the Walls

    Chapter 4 Intruder Alert

    Chapter 5 Pondering Design

    Chapter 6 Widows and Widowers on the Net

    Chapter 7 Snooping the Mailbox

    Chapter 8 The Psychic Online

    Chapter 9 The Visit

    Chapter 10 Dangerous Intrusion

    Chapter 11 First Repercussion

    Chapter 12 William H. Scane Hacker?

    Chapter 13 Second Report

    Chapter 14 Snooper Prevention

    Chapter 15 Surveillance

    Chapter 16 Mass Attack

    Chapter 17 William H. Scane Executive Vice President

    Chapter 18 The New Regime

    Chapter 19 A Cold Fall

    Chapter 20 Retribution

    Chapter 21 Revenge

    Chapter 22 Break-in

    Chapter 23 Suspicion

    Chapter 24 Liaison

    Chapter 25 Discovery

    Chapter 26 First Aid

    Chapter 27 Do Not Pass Go

    Chapter 28 Games of Chance

    Chapter 29 Discovery

    Chapter 30 Situation Normal, All Fouled Up

    Chapter 31 Springtime

    Other Books By Richard Porter Ray

    Hacked

    Chapter 1 The Insiders

    Brad looked up at the sign above the receptionist’s desk. The sign was another one of his ideas. It gave various bits of information to those waiting in the president's reception area. Right now it was displaying the baseball scores. It showed current news and scores of various games around the world. Brad was Vice President of IT at General Automotive. The year was 1990.

    Gerry was Brads boss or as he liked to call himself The Team Captain. The Team consisted of Brad Staples, Vice President of Information Services, Jason Miers, Vice President of Manufacturing, William H. Scane, Treasurer and Charles Bonner, Vice President of Marketing. Gerry Manning was Chief Executive Officer and President of General Automotive, the largest automobile maker in the World.

    Brad was what even the more mature women called, a hunk. He was six-foot-one, 180, muscular, dark brown hair, small waist, and blue eyes. He was 59 and only a few months to his 60th birthday. His looks were enough to catch second and third glances from all age women when he would enter a room or pass by on the street. He had a B.S. from the University of Houston and had done graduate work there and at Baylor, and SMU, where he studied Law. He graduated SMU with a Juris doctorate, but the offers from the various law firms were only about half of what he was earning at the time. He never even bothered to take the bar exam.

    During the fall, he played football and ran track in high school, but had not gone out for anything in college. His hobby was boating of all kinds, sail, power, rowing, anything that floated. His wife Cyndy had recently passed away and Brad still had periods of deep grieving. He' dated casually, but only with women invited to gatherings by the married friends he and his wife had cultivated during their marriage.

    William H. Scane was the newest member of the team and also a practiced hand at corporate politics. He was in charge of the accounting and what was now called Office Services. He and Brad had been at loggerheads ever since Wild Willy, as Brad delighted in calling him, came on board. GA as most people called it employed some two million people and had seven model lines and 37 different model automobiles not counting the trucks. Willy wanted Brad's job so bad that it was becoming an obsession with him. It seemed that he was dead set on usurping his authority at every turn.

    Last week one of the system programmers came to Brad and pointed out that Office Services wanted a change in the mainframe. It was due to take place the next weekend. No one had notified him. It seems Willy had bought a new computer, a communications server, and had not even informed him of it. It was Brad's responsibility and he would have made a bigger stink of it except Willy apologized and blamed one of his department heads for not bringing him in.

    Brad immediately canceled the order and went about setting up the system requirements and ordering an almost identical one from his favorite vendor, TelePort Communications. He wasn't about to allow anyone to install something into his system without his having complete control. Just like Willy to do something like that. He just keeps pushing. He thought.

    That very afternoon he did the Cover your Ass or CYA letter to Gerry. Brad explaining there was a communication mix up and the system would not be down until three weeks from now. This would give him time to get all of the security systems known as firewalls ready and have the various telephone lines programmed for connection.

    It was really a simple job, as it only involved the Office Services department and that was only about 500 people. There were plenty of telephone lines to cover that many and he had the firewall designs from the Marketing group. A firewall was a program that prevented unauthorized intruders from getting access to the system.

    The only thing that needed to be bought was the computer, or in the IS departments’ language, the hardware. So Brad asked Clif, his right-hand man, to set it up just like the Marketing Group, except give them only two T1 lines and a half T-1 line and no access to Australia or New Zealand. You know, we don't want them messing up that franchise again, not after the last debacle.

    I'll say, Brad, that idiot almost lost the best distributor the company had.

    Even if he was right, the way he went about it was like someone screwing your wife at a party while you're away getting him a drink.

    I've never heard that one before, but it sure describes Wild Willy to a T, but replace wife with dog.

    Replace dog with chicken, big dominiker hen type chicken.

    What the hell is a dominiker hen?

    Never mind, Clif, get your tail going on this, OK?

    T-1 lines were special high-speed data lines that you leased from the Telephone Company or communications companies. Most of the communications in the company were on T-1 lines.

    Willy wasn't the only problem in the IS department. Someone was breaking into the main computer. As of yet, little damage had been done, but he seemed to be able to break in regardless of the elaborate protection scheme. Known as a firewall, it utilized the most up to date technological equipment and software available. In fact, it was often written up in major magazines which caused no end of requests for information and visits from VIP's all over the world.

    It was uncanny how the intruder could stay one step ahead. He would get in, display his capability in one way or another and leave within a few minutes. If he had a mind to, he could have done serious multi-million dollar damage, but so far it was just little annoyances.

    He had finished the Wide Area Network system last month. Now all the VP's and department heads could work at home or anywhere in the world and have instant access to whatever information they needed. Clif had been a big help with the firewall. Clif knew his stuff when it came to security. He was officially a system programmer, but in Brad's mind, Clif was the Creative Genius of GA.

    Clifton Michael Baye had a background in computers since his early childhood. His dad had let him play with the Trash 80 as the early TRS 80's from Radio Shack were called. He never finished high school but had an IQ of over 135. Brad had a hell of a time paying him what he was really worth. Always afraid of losing him, Brad sent him off to the resort offices on little jaunts that were designed to give him a break rather than to actually accomplish anything. The trips were to Hawaii, Bermuda, Rome, and all the other fun spots to visit. Clif would go there and no matter what the insignificant assignment was, he would turn it into a valuable trip. Sometimes Brad felt guilty about trying to give him a little fun.

    Clif designed the company call-back system. When a company put in a call-back system, the people would log in by modem and give their name and password. The computer would then call back the telephone number for that person. This worked for all the employees that called in from one location. It didn't work as well for those that traveled.

    Since a lot of the VP's and other people in the company traveled all over the world, Clif had set up an itinerary type call back that would include the telephone numbers of the various places the men would visit. These numbers were stored on the network. There was also a list of home phones and frequented motels and hotels too. After the traveler logged in, the computer would check the number that they had called from. If the number was on the list, the computer would dial it back.

    If the computer didn't have a number listed in the itinerary phone book, then the call back number would have to be keyed in. Keyed in numbers were added to another telephone log. Some area codes were blocked completely unless a special code was used. These were the countries that the company had no offices in and would normally not be visited by the staff.

    A list of all call back numbers that were keyed in was kept too. Some numbers were automatically blocked as known hackers. Some were even turned over to the FCC as possible hackers. With billions of dollars at stake, it was imperative that no one is able to get access to any of the information.

    Brad walked down to his office and stopped at Cilla's desk. She was a jewel he thought to himself. She comes in early every day and will stay until God knows when. Cilla had been with him from almost the first day he was with GA. He was a department head then and got his first secretary, even if she was shared by three other guys in the same department.

    Priscilla Martin was from Detroit. She was one of the few in GA that was. She had grown up in a small suburb in a family of four. Her Brother Kelly had died from cancer a few years back and her husband was killed in the Vietnam War. A degree in English from the University of Michigan hung proudly on her office wall. After school, she took a clerk's job at GA and now was in the thirty-first year of employment.

    Her best break was when Brad found her in personnel and hired her as his private secretary, at that time; he was head of the systems group and had a few years to go before he made Vice President. She admired Brad for his intelligence and his cool level-headed management style. She wasn't the only one either as he shot up the corporate ladder bringing her with him and making Vice President in only eight years.

    Brads’ wife, Cyndy, had been alive when he first started with GA. She had squealed with joy when she found out that he was going to take the job. Can we get a second car? I'm so tired of having to take you to work, then double back and take the children to school. In the afternoon, I have to do the same thing. What do you think?

    Brad replied, I guess we could look at an older one. We probably won't want to live in town and it'd be some drive for you. We could buy a Studebaker. He waited for her reaction

    .

    Brad, come on a Studebaker? They haven't made those in years; How about a Camaro?

    Actually, you can drive the Volvo; they're giving me a company car.

    Oh how neat, what kind?

    Anything I want, maybe a sporty job He smiled knowing he would probably get an SUV like he had wanted for the last ten years.

    Aside from his Special Forces duty in the Air Force, he had worked for several insurance companies, first as an underwriter then as a programmer. Programming had come easy for him. His B.S. degree in Mathematics from the University of Houston and his M.A. in business from Yale gave him a pretty solid background. He had started out on the old computer card systems, wiring boards for the so-called computers which were really just fancy card shufflers with a printer attached. He later went on to learn programming languages like Assembly, COBOL, SNOBOL, Pascal and Lisp, He now was proficient in Assembly, C++, Visual Basic and some of the other higher level programming languages.

    His background in systems design and low-level programming enabled him to do things to the operating system that had saved his employers literally billions of dollars.

    Way back in the late seventies he had mandated four-digit year codes and thus avoided most of the hassles of the year 2000 debacle. Of course, there was still the problem with some of the company's computers not advancing the date correctly, but most of those had been handled by the original manufacturers.

    Even the Cray bunch had marveled at his change to the Bios that had used a hole in the code to correct the date problem. Actually had they thought of it themselves they might have saved themselves all that time and effort. His old buddies in the insurance companies in Hartford had spent hundreds of thousands and he had spent a morning.

    Brad walked down the hall after a meeting with Gerry. They had been discussing the new satellite communication system. He greeted his secretary with a big toothy smile. Cilla smiled back, How did it go? Are we going to satellites?

    Brad explained, the smile still on his face Looks good, Gerry liked the faster throughput. I know we can save about 800 million just in assembly parts. Did Mark come back with the simulator figures yet?

    No, but I'll give him a call right now.

    Mark Zimmer, Brads’ Mainframe Manager, had redone the projection for the next model year using the satellite communication model. It showed saving almost four hours of inventory. That's about a billion, give or take some. Mark had cautioned. Of course, that's assuming all the vendors keep the current on-time delivery schedule

    They better, Brad replied, or Jason will have them for lunch. I can just see the first guy that's ten minutes late bleeding all over Jason's carpet

    Mark let out a little laugh. I remember Pekard almost having a heart attack when Jason told him to take thirty million dollars in carburetors back. He's no pussyfoot when it comes to those guys. They better toe the line or take up knitting. Brad remembered that conversation.

    Cilla pushed one of the buttons on her phone and the little light next to Mark's name blinked off and on. Mark, this is Cilla, is that new projection on the satellite ready yet?

    There was a brief pause. Ok, Brad would like it right away, can you send someone?

    Another pause then, No el problemo Mark I'll be right down. She looked up at Brad and smiled. Be back in a flash with the cash. He laughed and headed for his unusually decorated office.

    Cyndy, Brad's wife, had helped him with his office. He had, just like the president, Gerry, a corner office about two thousand square feet. Actually, it was almost twice the size of their first apartment. She had gone with him to the various custom office furniture designers and finally they settled on a young man from Dallas. He had flown in one day and Cyndy and the young designer had almost left him completely out of it. She stood in the middle of his office to be and animatedly described chairs, tables, sofas, settees to his delight.

    It was always so pleasurable to see her in action. She was quite a flirt and he reveled in it. Cyndy got so excited when other men paid her a lot of attention. He just stood at the door and watched for almost twenty minutes. His thoughts were on her happiness. What a woman she is; so pretty when she is happy.

    Brad had always dated beautiful women. It was just part of his nature. He started dating when he was fourteen taking girls around on his bicycle and then on his Doodle Bug, the tiny motorized putt-putt from Western Auto. He dated the most popular girls and when he saw this beautiful girl from another high school in Houston, he started dating her. She won Miss Splash Day his senior year in high school He was with her when he met Cyndy. Brad looked at her across the table and it was instant love. To him, she was the most beautiful girl in the world. A crowd was usually around her at parties and every guy who wasn't gay would hit on her. He watched her and the designer conversing, not even listening.

    Then there were the lamps and the carpet and the telephones and, of course, she had to have his computer encased in Teak. As he entered, he took a long look. Ocean blue carpet with a cherry wood, kidney-shaped table. White enameled chair legs with rose-colored upholstery on the chairs. His chair at the little indent in the kidney was a little taller and had a higher back than the others. A little psychology never hurt anyone. She had said. Thinking of her was an everyday occurrence.

    Brad was not the same after Cyndy died, His manner was less forceful and his self-assurance had declined to as low as he had remembered.

    She had been with him almost 34 years, bore him two wonderful children and was his companion and lover par excellence. Her passion was so strong and her lovemaking so intense that the sparks had stayed in their marriage from the start.

    Dating only beautiful women and then catching the most beautiful, gave Brad a sense of self-importance that not only made him feel like a million dollars most days, it also helped in his profession to a great extent. Cyndy had contributed more than most of the other wives, not only as the hostess with the mostest, but as a behind the scenes social expert and player.

    Cultivating the friendship of the right wives and keeping a list of who was who in the organization had contributed to Brad's rapid rise in the company. She had joined the right clubs, entertained the right guests, and cultivated the right friendships. In less than ten years, he had gone from the systems programming manager to Vice President.

    There were forty-seven Vice Presidents in General Automotive, only four were corporate vice presidents, the rest were subsidiary VP's that reported to subsidiary presidents. In Brad’s position, he was one peck higher in the pecking order than a subsidiary president. His salary was a little less than a half million dollars and his stock options and a bonus program brought it up to several million a year.

    His desk was not a desk at all, but a square pecan table. Behind it sat a light tan leather chair with matching pecan trim on the arms and legs. Looming over his desk was an eight armed, blue glass chandelier. Lights could be turned on individually or in pairs or in quarters. The lighting could be indirect or direct or both. Cyndy had spent many days with the lighting guy, getting it just right. The little bar to the left of the desk held mostly fruit juices and a few soft drinks. He had learned years ago that success and liquor don't mix on the job and he wanted nothing to get in his way. Of course, there were the usual top notch spirits, but if they were opened, he would give the remains to Cilla and put an unopened bottle in its place. No use tempting myself, was what he would say. His drinking was after hours and away from his job.

    Along the right side wall separating his office from Gerry's was his collection of Mayan art.

    There were Masks, goblets, jewelry, one of the only eight Mayan books or codicils that survived the monk’s fires. Axes, tools, and even weapons decorated the glass lined showcase. It was his pride and joy. To the right of the Mayan art was a Chinese vase from the twelfth century. It was one of the few in existence. Forty-seven inches tall, almost five feet when standing in its ironwood stand. Cyndy had found it in a small little auction shop in Naples Florida about two years ago. She had fallen in love with all the intricate drawings which had told a story of a nobleman's trip to pay his tribute to the emperor. It might have even been one of his gifts to the emperor, but no one could confirm that.

    The new rotary file cabinets gave him instant access to what little paperwork he would need to look at. Most of the incoming paperwork was scanned into the computer by Cilla. It was accessible to him with his LaserFische software. Thus, his rotary files were only about one-third full most of the time. Years of programming had made him extremely adept at the keyboard and retrieval of important documents at the right instant had enhanced his career. Knowledge is power someone had said and Brad believed it. Brad was powerful, both in his job and his attitude; someone to be reckoned with.

    Chapter 2 Firewall Builder

    As Lisa wheeled the little Porsche in and out of traffic, she was thinking of her husband Mike Danahey. He would have loved this car. She had taken some of the insurance money and let the salesman, who wasn't too bad looking; talk her into splurging a little and getting something she really wanted. She zipped back into the fast lane and noticed a guy with sandy blond hair, smiling at her through the window of his Eldorado.

    Many times on her way to and from work, she had thought that the car attracted a lot of guys. That warm feeling when you’re the object of someone's attention coursed through her from time to time and she smiled back at the guy. What the heck, she thought I'm an eligible bachelorette with a little red bullet She gunned the powerful supercharged engine and left the Eldorado and the blonde hunk behind.

    The night before FutureC2 had chatted with her on America on Line again. FutureC2 was the substitute name that one of Lisa's AOL buddies used for America on Line. It's called a screen name and is used to keep you a little anonymous. It was eerie that she knew all those things. Was she really psychic? How in the world did she know about people's past? She mentioned someone who had passed away recently and her husband Mike had been dead only about six months. How did she know so many personal things about her, things that she and Mike used to do? She wanted to ask FutureC2 to try to contact him but really didn't know how to go about it. Maybe she'll be back on tonight and might tell me more. Oh God, what if she really could make contact. She almost said it out loud.

    Lisa had never thought about it. Even when she was little, the fortune tellers she saw with the girls were really just show business. Then she remembered the one who had described Mike to a T. Lisa hadn't even met him yet. An intelligent man will meet you in a place where you never meet men. He will see you once and anger you. Then you will see him again and you will dance with him. In a short time, you will fall in love. He will be six feet tall, dark reddish brown hair, and blue-green eyes. He will be the most handsome guy you have ever met.

    Mike was a perfect stranger when he accidently walked into the Women's restroom and had surprised her so much that she messed up her lipstick. Telling him in no uncertain terms to get the hell out of there, she got angry as she went about the task of repairing the damage. Then she had met him again when he and his date came over to say hello to, was it, Tom? Yes! The guys introduced their dates to each other and started talking sports talk. The girls sat silently and after about fifteen minutes Tom asked Mike's date to dance. That left Lisa and Mike. They danced too and he was really good.

    It wasn't until almost two years later that she thought about the old fortune teller. She had told Mike about it and he had laughed.

    She must have known what a klutz I am when it comes to directions. It wasn't the first time I stumbled into the wrong one.

    She didn't think he put much stock into psychics or fortune tellers, but she still wondered how the old woman had foretold exactly what would happen. It's not like that happens every day and then you marry him Then Mike would reply, Just a lucky guess. Sometimes she would get a little upset when he would make her feel a little stupid.

    About three years after they were married, she went again. This time, it was a psychic one of her girlfriends had told her about. As she walked into the small house she was met by a tall woman who looked to be not more than fifteen or sixteen years’ old. Is your mother in? She had asked.

    If you’re looking for the reader, it’s me.

    Lisa was disappointed and it showed.

    If you’re not satisfied, you don't have to pay.

    What have I got to lose, Lisa thought? She introduced herself and the girl told her to take a seat.

    You may think this is strange, but I would like for you to tell me about yourself. Some people think that I am supposed to perform miracles, but in order for me to see the future I have to know the past. Does that bother you?

    Lisa was again doubtful, but she gave the girl as much information as she asked for.

    What is it you want to know? the little girl asked.

    Will I have children? We've been trying for a long time and so far nothing.

    Have you seen a doctor?

    Yes and everything seems to be OK with both of us.

    She took Cindy’s hand and stared at her for a long time saying nothing. You will get pregnant this spring. It will be a boy and you will have another in fourteen months, another boy. Is there anything else you wanted to know?

    Cyndy shook her head and paid the woman the fifty-dollar fee she had asked for.

    Remember if you’re not happy you can get your money back.

    In May, she missed her period. In June, she missed again. Excitedly she went to the Obstetrician and he announced with a huge smile. You're pregnant, Mrs. Danahey, about three months. The baby should be here around Christmas.

    He was their first child; the second was born fourteen months later, another boy. She had gone to the young psychic about other things and when she said that soon they would be moving and it would be the start of a new life, she was so excited that she drove home and wrote four pages in her personal diary. The next year, Mike started the computer company and the family moved to Hartford.

    Their business was doing well when one day, Mike came downstairs and was having seizures. She drove him to the hospital and they gave him aspirin and finally phenobarbital. It took almost three hours and she watched him go through the pain. His muscles were worn out with the constant tightening and he cried out in pain constantly.

    Finally, the doctor gave him a shot and he calmed down. Lisa was taken aside and showed some x-rays. There is a small tumor in his brain. That's what is causing the convulsions. There is a good chance that it might be malignant, but we won't know until tomorrow.

    Steeling herself she listened to the night doctor. She wasn't sure what he was saying, everything started to blur, the words were meaningless and she only heard the noise. The news was devastating, he was only fifty-six and had never been sick a day in his life. In all the years that they have been together, he had never even missed a day of work.

    Later the large tumor in his lung was found. The chemotherapy did nothing, the radiation helped only for about two months. He started the convulsions in January and died the following December. Christmas was so sad; he had lost so much weight and was not eating anything. The last few days were hard on them both. She tried to sleep next to his bed listening to his gasps for air. His poor body fighting to keep alive, but the tumors had filled one lung completely and the other was only functioning at 10 percent. He died on the twenty-eighth of December.

    At General Automotive Mark handed Cilla the report. Hope the old guy appreciates this one; it took me pretty near till eleven last night to dig out some of this stuff.

    She walked over to the copy room and asked for five copies. In color please She reminded the girl. As she waited for them to get done, she thought about Brad. Maybe it was too soon.

    Cyndy had been dead for only five months. It seemed to her that he was about back to his old self again. He had taken her to lunch a few times, but that's as far it went. Maybe she should ask him over for dinner sometimes, or would that be pushing it? He used to flirt with her all the time when he was married, that had stopped when Cyndy died. Once in a while when they were alone, he would give her a hug and kiss her on the cheek, but it didn't mean anything to him, at least, it didn't show if it did. They had been boss and secretary for a long time, almost nine years.

    Here you go Cilla, the copy girl interrupted her train of thought. She picked up the stack of reports and headed for the elevator. The elevator was just emptying out when she got there, so she walked in and punched the blue unmarked button. A woman's voice came back over the tiny speaker on the elevator control panel. Please identify yourself.

    Cilla Breckenridge

    Thank you, Cilla

    She stepped back. It used to say Clearance granted, but Brad had that changed. It's too impersonal, he had explained.

    The doors opened at the executive level and Cilla stepped out. She turned left and headed toward Brad and her area. As she approached the stainless steel door leading to the area, it automatically opened. This was Brad's idea. Since you have been cleared to enter the building, and get on the executive floor, it makes it easier for all of us if we use the badge recognition function on the doors. He had explained. Each badge had a special code that would enable that badge holder to have automatic access to several parts of the building. As she approached, a radio signal interrogated her badge and received her code. The system then looked up the identifying characteristics for that badge.

    As she walked toward the still closed and locked door, she walked over a series of sensors embedded into the floor under the carpet. Her weight, length of stride and shoe size were checked against the information in the computer. A little further on her height was measured. It was a fit and instantly the door unlocked and swung open. Good morning Cilla it announced through the speakers in the door.

    Rather than set off alarms, if the person didn't fit the profile, a light would blink on the receptionist’s desk and she could override or not depending upon the situation. Since Cilla was carrying only about five pounds of reports, the system didn't blink any lights as that was within the tolerance, provided the stride, shoe size, and other factors were also within their tolerances.

    Brad was in his office and she could see Jason sitting across from him at the kidney-shaped conference table. She stuck her head in and caught Brad's eye. He looked in her direction and asked, Are those Marks’ reports on the Satellite?

    Yes they are; do you want them now?

    Yes, please. He directed Cilla. He turned back and said, Jason, these are the preliminary results that I was telling you about. It looks as if satellite communications between manufacturing and our vendors could save as much as 800 million a model year if the vendors still hold to their percent of on-time delivery. Jason gave Brad his cunning smile, They will, or they can work for Ford.

    Cilla gave Mark the reports and walked back to her office. That was another one of the perks she got. Not large by any means, but her own office with two clerks outside. She had it decorated in what she called late sorority. There were bright reds, yellows, and blues, with dark browns, greens, and oranges. A complete contrast to Brad's office, but she considered herself a contrast to him to begin with.

    Brad finished with Jason and cleared the reports and other papers from the conference table. He walked over to his desk and sat. From a small row of buttons next to the telephone, he pushed one and a whirring sound accompanied the sliding of the top of his desk to one side, revealing a monitor, keyboard, and mouse.

    He thought to himself that it was time to check on his adversary. As a result of his having vast experience in protecting the corporation from intrusion, he had also learned hundreds of ways to intrude. Several of the protection schemes in place at General Automotive also had elements to do some very serious snooping.

    That's the way the system works, just like war. You invent the spear and the enemy invents the shield, you invent the tank and the enemy invents the Bazooka. If someone happened to be good enough or lucky enough to intrude, then part of the system would track where they accessed from, how long they were in and what they had accessed. Even if the company didn't prevent their entries that time, it could prevent them from getting in again most of the time.

    There were sometimes, thousands of attempts a month to break in. Some hackers would dial up for days trying the three attempts allowed before the system hung up on them. These would be programmed break-in attempts. The program would dial one of the main systems lines and make guesses from a list that the hacker would make up. After a while, the phone company would cooperate and trace the call, but that was a rare occurrence. With hundreds of lines, it was extremely difficult to catch all the failed attempts.

    The statistics that were kept by Brad's department showed that employees got in on the first attempt 99% of the time and on the second attempt 99.7% of the time. Only one tenth of a percent needed the third attempt. So when the log showed repeated failures, it was considered a break-in attempt. That's where Brad's security force came in. Dial-in lines were limited in the things they could do. All of the dial-in lines were limited to looking at data and receiving reports. All of the new data for the computer's accounting and scheduling system came over so-called secure lines. These lines were connected directly to General Automotive plants or offices scattered throughout the world.

    Brad had used this to his advantage when it came with his dealings with Willy. While he was at his computer one day, he caught someone snooping his computer. When he found out, it was Willy who had secretly put a special program on Willy's computer which loaded when Willy's computer started. Known in the trade as a daemon, it allowed Brad complete access to Willy's system. A plus was it kept a log of exactly what he was doing, right down to the keystroke and where his mouse was when he clicked either button.

    A daemon is like a virus, except instead of attaching itself to a program, it attaches itself to data. It is by far the most potent of virus types.

    Since Wild Willy would write memos and letters and keep them on his computer, Brad would occasionally snoop into Willy's hard drive to see what he was up to. Funny, he thought, there was no trace of anything about the communication server. I wonder if he knows that someone is getting into his computer.

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