Authors: Bobby Akart
Cyber Warfare (20 page)
Applegate slowly removed his seat harness and traded seats with Bird, who immediately leaned across the center console.
“Should I escort him off the flight deck?” asked Bird.
“He’s just shook up,” said Gray. “Call in the Mayday, and let me figure this out.”
Bird’s attempt to access the onboard computer proved fruitless. The keyboard was unresponsive.
“We’re one hundred miles east of St. Louis,” said Gray. “Try SDF. Wait, not Louisville. We’ll need Indianapolis Center.”
“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, Indianapolis Center. American Airlines one-two-niner heavy declaring an emergency,” said Bird. “I say again. Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, Indianapolis ZID. American Airlines one-two-niner heavy declaring an emergency.”
“American one-two-niner, this is Indianapolis Center. We copy your Mayday,” said a representative of the Indianapolis Air Route Traffic Control Center. The primary responsibility of Indianapolis Center was to monitor and separate flights within the seventy-three thousand square miles it covered in the Midwest. Today, a new task presented itself. “What is the nature of your emergency?”
“Indianapolis Center, onboard controls are unresponsive. We are under power and in a steady descent now passing twenty-two thousand feet,” said Bird. “All other flight deck functions appear normal.”
“Roger, American one-two-niner. All stations. All stations. Indianapolis Center. Mayday situation in progress. Stop transmitting. Repeat. Mayday situation in progress. Stop all transmissions.”
Gray sat back in the pilot’s seat and looked around the Orbiter flight deck, searching for clues—and answers. Nothing made sense. The entire console appeared normal. The monitors functioned properly, displaying their current flight parameters; however, the keyboard for the onboard computer continued to be unresponsive.
“We’re leveling off,” said Bird, pointing at the altitude control indicator. “Son of a bitch, we’re holding steady at twenty K. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Neither had Gray.
“American one-two-niner, this is Indianapolis Center. Boeing technical team is en route, and Homeland Security has been notified.”
“Roger, Indianapolis Center,” said Bird. “Be advised, altitude has leveled off at twenty thousand feet. Steady on original course.”
“American one-two-niner. Indianapolis Center. Roger.”
“Homeland Security?” asked Bird.
Gray understood the gravity of their situation. If he couldn’t demonstrate positive control of the aircraft, it would not be allowed to reach Washington.
Chapter 4
May 8, 2016
3:13 p.m.
The Hack House
Binney Street
East Cambridge, Massachusetts
“Now that we’ve entered the plane’s Wi-Fi system, it’s necessary to hack through the firewall of the aircraft communications addressing and reporting system, or ACARS,” said Malvalaha. “This will give us access to the plane’s onboard computer system and the uploaded flight management system data.”
Lau watched intently as his protégé navigated through the plane’s servers.
“You’re in!” exclaimed Walthaus. “My turn, Leo.”
Malvalaha relinquished his chair to Walthaus, whose only experience with an airplane was playing on his father’s computer as a teen.
“The aircraft is flying on autopilot,” said Fakhri. “That’s good. Right about now, the pilots are relaxed and completely unaware of our presence.”
“First, I will initiate the uninterruptible autopilot system, which will prevent the flight crew from interfering with us,” said Walthaus. “These controls are considered
fly-by-wire,
which have replaced the conventional manual controls of the aircraft with an electronic interface. The yokes that control the aircraft may provide certain inputs into a flight-control system, but with the uninterruptible autopilot system initiated, the crew can flail around all they want, and their actions will not be recognized.
“First, we’ll adjust the altitude to twenty-six thousand feet—just to let them know we’re flying their plane,” he continued. “Watch here.”
Walthaus pointed to FlightAware, and Lau turned his attention to the screen. When Walthaus refreshed the screen, the airspeed had declined, along with the aircraft’s altitude.
“Whoa!” exclaimed Walthaus. “Sorry about that! It’s hard to adjust the controls using a mouse and its cursor. I just took the plane into a dive and probably scared the shit out of everybody on board. Let me level this off at twenty thousand feet.”
“Is that too low?” asked Lau.
“No, eighteen thousand feet is considered the upper end of an air traffic’s transitional level, where the most activity takes place,” said Walthaus. “We’ll maintain this altitude and course for a few minutes, to give everyone on board an opportunity to catch their breath. Then we’ll climb back to thirty-three thousand feet.”
Ordinarily, the Zero Day Gamers had a profit motive. The hijack by hacking of the American Airlines flight was a test. Today, they would determine whether the hack could be achieved, in addition to gauging the government’s response.
“At this point, the pilots have probably reported a Mayday to the nearest air traffic control tower—either St. Louis or Louisville,” said Malvalaha. “Their flight training would dictate a simple procedure of turning off the autopilot and resuming control of the aircraft manually. Unfortunately for them, the Boeing Uninterruptible Autopilot system has built-in safeguards that prevent the pilots from overriding our controls.”
“What prevents NORAD or the FAA from taking over the operation of the plane via its satellite controls?” asked Lau.
“We’ve installed a version of the TeslaCrypt Ransomware onto the plane’s servers,” said Malvalaha. “This malware blocks access to the aircraft’s onboard computers by everybody until released by us. In the future, we’ll provide them a message with a monetary demand. Today, we’re just sending a message.”
Chapter 5
May 8, 2016
3:17 p.m.
NORAD—Air Defense Operations Center
Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Station, Colorado
“Sir, Wright-Patterson has been notified of the situation,” said the technical sergeant who was manning the console tracking American Airlines Flight 129. “I have Lieutenant Colonel Darren Reynolds on the line, sir.”
Colonel Arnold pressed the remote transmit button for his headset. “Colonel Reynolds, this is Colonel James Arnold. Please stay on the line as we assess the situation.”
“Colonel Arnold, we have scrambled two F-16s. Time is running out. Once ADOC was notified, we ceased communications with the Indianapolis Air Traffic Control Center and turned comms over to you.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” said Arnold. “Sergeant, contact the aircraft.”
“American Airlines one-two-niner, United States Air Force Air Defense Operations Center. Over,” said the airman.
After a moment, the response came through the overhead speakers.
“Air Defense, this is Captain Randy Gray.”
“Captain Gray, this is Colonel Arnold. What steps have you taken to gain control of your aircraft?” asked Colonel Arnold.
“The most logical step is to turn off the plane’s autopilot,” said Gray. “But the autopilot is unresponsive. In fact, all of our controls are unresponsive. We’ve had no flight control for nearly seventeen minutes now.”
“Stand by, Captain Gray,” said Colonel Arnold.
He pointed to the sergeant to mute the conversation, waiting several seconds before addressing his team.
“If this 757 is outfitted with Boeing’s new autopilot system, why haven’t we simply taken control of the aircraft?”
“Malware has been inserted into the aircraft’s onboard server network, preventing any type of outside access,” said another airman. “Boeing technical support is working on a solution, but so far they have been unsuccessful.”
“Colonel Reynolds, what is the ETA on your F-16s?” asked Colonel Arnold.
Arnold took a deep breath during the pause and studied the global positioning of Flight 129. The plane would be over a desolate area of Eastern Kentucky in roughly ten minutes. He had to escalate this to USNorthCom. He was not going to sentence 237 passengers and crew to their death without further orders.
Chapter 6
May 8, 2016
3:23 p.m.
F-16 “Fighting Falcons”
180
th
Fighter Wing
24,000 Feet
Near Lexington, Kentucky
“Roger, Giant Killer, awaiting orders,” said Smash Seven, the lead F-16 pilot dispatched to intercept Flight 129. “We will maintain two four thousand at the four o’clock and eight o’clock positions.”
“Copy, Smash Seven,” said Smash Eleven, maintaining his position above the left rear of the 757 aircraft. “Smash Seven, switch to alternate frequency Charlie. Repeat, switch to alternate frequency Charlie.”
“Go ahead, Smash Eleven.”
“Are we going to shoot down a commercial airliner?” asked Smash Eleven.
“Certainly not what I had in mind when I woke up this morning,” said Smash Seven. “It must be hijacked.
“Look, they’re climbing. Return to primary frequency.”
“Switching,” said Smash Eleven.
“Giant Killer, Smash Seven. Aircraft appears to be in ascent. Repeat, aircraft is ascending. Now climbing to two four thousand,” said Smash Seven. “Now two eight thousand. Please advise.”
“Roger that, Smash Seven,” said Giant Killer. “Maintain present heading and adjust altitude to three six thousand.”
The F-16s rose in altitude to maintain a height advantage over the 757.
“Aircraft has leveled off at three three thousand. Heading has not changed,” said Smash Seven. “We have bull’s-eye on one-two-nine at three six thousand now. We are a half mile in trail.”
Chapter 7
May 8, 2016
3:23 p.m.
American Airlines Flight 129
20,000 Feet
Near Lexington, Kentucky
“Those are F-16s,” said Bird. “They’ve remained just behind us since they checked us out a few minutes ago.”
Gray was aware the military would not hesitate to shoot them down if the plane was hijacked. Although their altitude had leveled, no one knew whether the plane would fly directly into the Atlantic or nose-dive into Washington. The government would not take that chance. He suddenly felt the urge to call his wife.
“I’m going to call Betty,” said Gray.
At lower altitude, he might reach a cell tower. A second after pressing send on his phone, the plane began to climb. He initiated communications once again with the Indianapolis ZID.
“Indianapolis Center. American Airlines Flight one-two-niner. Aircraft has begun uncontrolled ascent,” said Gray.
Bird called out the altimeter readings. “Twenty-three thousand. Twenty-six thousand. Thirty thousand.”
“American Airlines one-two-niner, roger that. Are you able to gain control of your aircraft?”
“Negative.” Gray was sweating profusely.
They were running out of time.
“Where are the F-16s, Stacy?”
“I don’t have a visual. My guess is they’re a thousand feet above and behind us,” replied Bird.
“Captain Gray,” interrupted the voice of the Air Force colonel, “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. You have about two minutes to gain control of your aircraft before you enter populated areas and D.C. airspace. Homeland Security has established certain protocols in this type of situation.”
Gray and Bird exchanged glances.
How could this be happening? I really want to talk to my wife
.
“Colonel, I assure you that we have nothing to do with this,” pleaded Gray. “There has to be a solution. This airplane is acting normally, except for the controls. It must be a malfunction. You can’t shoot us down!”
“Randy, look!” exclaimed Bird, tapping the monitors for the onboard computer.
Gray immediately grabbed the controls, remembering that the autopilot was activated. He flipped the switch, and the plane responded to his touch. Flight 129 was his again!
“All stations, this is American Airlines one-two-niner. We have positive control of the flight. I say again, we have positive control of the flight!” said Gray.
As he and Captain Bird exchanged relieved looks, the monitor display changed:
Thank you for flying with Zero Day Gamers Airways.
APPENDIX B
PREPAREDNESS CHECKLIST
Provided by
www.FreedomPreppers.com
Click here for PREPPERS CHECKLIST PDF
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