"I don't know, but they haven’t shown the same talents in real world crime as they have online. Anyway, we can’t visit all these places across the country. Not in time to hope to contribute meaningfully to this case. But from what I can see, four of the six plants only ship smaller scale drones. I think we can forget those. The drones carrying explosives — they'd have to be much larger."
"Agreed."
"There are only two providing models of that size in any number in the US. And guess what? One of them happens to be across the Hudson in New Jersey."
Lopez stared down at her. "I suppose you’re interested in paying that place a visit?"
Houston smiled. "And there’s no time like the present. What do you say we make a little excursion to Jersey?"
Lopez began to pace. "We're not ready. We need to do recon. Find out what this place is, try to determine the security, what we'll be up against. And what’s our target? We won't have access to the guided tour."
"We'll need to be in and out in under half an hour to be sure the police don't arrive. We need their records. What they've been selling and to whom. Hopefully, we can use that to trace the drones to Anonymous. In the real world, you always leave footprints.”
"So we need to identify their offices, determine how to penetrate their perimeter and security, how to get into the records, all from outside with no computer access."
"We can't do it without online access."
Lopez raised his hands. "But that opens our computers to the worm. Right now they're wiped. Pristine. Who knows how long before we're infected online."
"From what Angel said, not long."
"Then we might as well be televising what we're doing. At some point we risk opening ourselves to discovery by that thing. Best case they blow our data. Worst case they send assassins."
"So we don't use our computers."
"Then what?"
Houston stood up, stretching slowly in different yoga positions as she spoke. "Public library. We'll disable some of their safe-browsing settings, install TOR for anonymity, and get what we need and hope for the best."
“All those computers are infected.”
“Yes, but the worm isn’t omniscient. It’s also latent until activated. Is there a trigger keyword in every strain on every computer about everything that might be a threat to them? Anonymous can’t anticipate all the threats.”
“And if they have anticipated that one?”
“We’ll lose the computer and connection as the worm is activated. Then we go back to the drawing board, or head into the plant blind.”
“With somebody alerted to our interest.”
She sighed. “A risk we have to take.”
Lopez nodded. “We need building specs. Satellite info. How do we get that from the library computer connections?”
Houston laughed. "More than you think is publicly available. But for the details, we need governmental access." She picked up her phone. "Angel must not be getting much sleep these days." She dialed.
Lopez walked to the window and stared out into the night. The streetlights took on a hazy blur from the soiled glass. The occasional passing car was enveloped in a glowing fog that seemed to give it a phantasmal quality. Sleep deprived and anxious, the images stirred his primitive emotions. To add to the suspense, a whistle rose and fell from a wind picking up and blowing through the alleyways.
"Hi Angel. Mary here." Houston made her way to their weapons cache. “We have a lead on a manufacturing plant in Jersey. No, not far. South of Newark. Yes. Look, we need to do some serious recon before we hit that place. We need access to FBI databases, satellite scans, building schematics. Anything on the site.” She paused, listening. “We don’t have time to wait until John’s back. Yeah, I know you’d like his approval, but he’s not my daddy. You’re point for us, remember? And don’t tell me permission from the boss ever got in your way!” Houston picked up a large handgun, a Browning 1911, and sighed. “Look, can you do this, give us access or not? Okay, then just do it.” She nodded and checked the magazine on the weapon. “Thanks. And tell John we’ll be careful.”
She closed and pocketed the phone as Lopez approached. He glanced down at the weapon in her hand.
“Tell your dad to watch over us.”
She smiled at the .45 caliber, semiautomatic. “He always does. Believe that.”
Lopez checked his watch. “So, what time does the library open?”
COHEN Deposition 2
CBD: And it was at this point that you began to question the individual members of Anonymous.
MS. COHEN: Yes. We had compiled a list of known and suspected members that were in custody, serving time for hacking related crimes. Other offenses. We could get immediate access to those.
CBD: How many were in custody?
MS. COHEN: In the tristate area? At that time, four. Three were minor hackers. One was a central figure in the underground community, Laurens Hanert, who had just been transferred from FCI Manchester in Kentucky. We focused on him.
CBD: Who is Hanert?
MS COHEN: An online activist, mainly. Started a hacker site open to the public. Criminal record consisted of a few Mary Jane possessions and participation in protests. Riled up a bunch of people by working with Wikileaks. Then in 2012 he was busted by the FBI in a sting operation using an informant who was a former member of Anonymous. Basically he was set up for a hack of an intelligence company. Borderline entrapment but it worked. Pleaded guilty and got fifteen years. Longer than most murder sentences.
CBD: Did you speak to the other hackers in custody?
MS. COHEN: No. We were low on personnel. We didn’t have the manpower to question them all. We thought that Hanert was our best bet.
[REDACTED]: And so the other members of Anonymous remained free.
MS. COHEN: Free? Those we knew anything about were in lockup! Free from our rushed and crazy inquiry as the world fell apart, sure. But Hanert was important. We were right to zero in on him.
CBD: How so?
MS. COHEN: He led us to some of the local hacker cells, cells that were unknown, underground. And he was the first to clue us in to Fawkes.
[REDACTED]: The mythical Fawkes, again.
MS. COHEN: I don’t know what this witch hunt is about, but you’re missing the elephant in the room. It’s not John! Fawkes was real and nearly got us all killed as we hunted him down. If you want to understand this thing, you’d better start taking that seriously.
CBD: And where did you meet this Hanert?
MS. COHEN: FCI Ray Brook, up in the Adirondacks. Long five hour drive from the city.
CBD: Why drive? Why not fly?
MS. COHEN: We considered it, but with the risks of the worm to air traffic and guidance systems, if we were blown it seemed an easy way to get us out of the picture to bring an aircraft down. Paranoid, sure, but staying of the grid as much as possible, that was our plan. We tried hard to stick to it. Which makes the end result so ironic. But Hanert was worth it, even if it almost cost us our lives.