964th Airborne Air Control Squadron
Flight Level 350, San Joaquin County, California
“It’s dead, ma’am.” While Han was unaware of the furor that her system had caused, she knew it was vital to get it back up and running. She had seen dozens of units check in in the few minutes the system had been operational.
Amee had come back into the operator area when she heard Han swearing over the intercom. “What do you mean it’s dead?”
“I mean that the node is offline and I cannot get it back.”
Amee just looked at Han. “Get it back.”
“Ma’am, I need to get out there and look at the pod; I can’t do that from here. We need to get on the ground.”
“Right.”
Amee walked back into the cockpit. “Find us an airport.”
“Sir?”
“We are landing this bird, right now.”
Her copilot pointed to the navigation screen. “Stockton is only ten miles away, SCK.”
Amee checked the frequency. “Stockton tower, this is Air Force Flight Wedge One. We are declaring an emergency.”
“Copy your emergency, Air Force.” There was a pause of several seconds. “You are cleared for visual approach on runway two nine right. Altimeter two niner niner four. Say the nature of your emergency.”
“Stockton Tower, Air Force Wedge One, critical equipment failure.”
“Copy, Air Force, do you require fire?”
“Negative, Stockton.”
“Copy negative fire. We will alert the FBO. Say type.”
“Stockton, we are a seven three seven.”
“Copy, Air Force, FBO will be alerted to stage the seven three seven crew.”
“Thank you, Stockton, Wedge One, out.”
Landing on the ten-thousand-foot runway at Stockton was extremely easy. The E-7 was essentially a Boeing 737 and flew like one. The landing was routine except for the airport trucks standing by on the ramp. One had a “follow me” sign on the back, just in case the radio failed. Amee taxied the twin engine Boeing down the ramp to the door of a large hangar with a huge sign reading “Atlantic” on it. As Amee and her co-pilot began to shut down the aircraft, she looked out to her left and saw a staircase rolling over to the main door of the aircraft. “Safe that door and get it open.”
Amee gestured for Han to follow and walked down the stairs. A group of six men greeted them at the base of the stairs. “Which of you is the senior mechanic?”
An older man with receding, grey hair and a pronounced beer belly raised his hand. “That would be me. Williamson.” Amee pointed to Han.
Han walked over and shook Williamson’s hand. “Qu Han, Northrop Grumman. We’re going to need a scaffold under that pod.” She pointed to the Smart Node Pod hanging under the wing.
Williamson squinted up. “I never seen a pod like that hanging off a 737 before. What is it?”
“Not your concern. Just get that scaffold.” Williamson was staring at the pod. “NOW MISTER. MOVE.” With a startled look at the diminutive Asian woman, Williamson nodded and jogged off towards the hangar. Han just nodded as if she always received complete obedience. And perhaps she did.
Two hours later, Amee was sitting at one of the consoles in the rear of the E-7, eating a sandwich that the Fixed Base Operator (FBO) had provided. Her crew was getting fed, the aircraft was fully fueled, but she couldn’t go anywhere until the Smart Node was fixed. She had received word from SacWest that getting the communications gateway aloft was her only priority, but she had no idea how to do that. Finally, Han stomped into the cabin, a smear of grease on her cheek. “Any sandwiches left?”
Amee handed her one. “Fixed?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. All diagnostics green. Working perfectly.”
“What the hell?”
“The problem is on this end. The control console is ignoring all the inputs.”
“What would cause that?”
“Malware. Virus, probably.”
“What? Don’t you check for that before you install the system?”
“Of course. That virus wasn’t there when we took off.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not getting what you’re saying.”
“We got a virus from someone on the ground we were talking to.”
Amee took a moment to process that statement. The only things that the BACN node was supposed to talk to were US military units. “You mean we were connected to enemy units?”
“No, I mean that the friendly units gave us a virus.”
If those units gave them a virus, that meant they were infected also. “That’s how they’ve taken down comms? They got a virus into our systems?”
“Apparently. It’s not supposed to be possible, but it happened.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Yes, I carry a full set of media. Just restore the software from zero, overwrite everything, back to factory spec.” Han shoved the rest of the sandwich into her mouth. “Just like when we left Renton.” She gave Amee a hard stare.
“And?”
“And then the same thing happens the moment we get up there.”
“Shit.”
“You said it, sister.” Han sat for a moment, contemplating a napkin. “I might know a guy.” Han pulled out her iPhone. “I’m about to violate a million regs. You OK?”
Amee laughed. “As far as I’m concerned, this isn’t even an Air Force plane. We’re just on an evaluation flight.”
“Right.” She dialed a number. “Jimmy. Qu. Yeah, I’m good. Remember that exercise we did last month? Yeah, the pen test. You got that anti-virus setup on disk somewhere? Yeah? Shoot it to me, ok?” She listened for a moment. “Thanks Jimmy, you’re a lifesaver.” She hung up.
Amee couldn’t contain her curiosity. “You did a penetration test?”
“Yeah, it was an exercise. We gamed out how the system could be attacked. Upper management told us that this couldn’t happen and shit-canned the project.”
“But.”
“But, we built the thing. It’s just software, I can install it in a few minutes.”
“Will it work?”
“No idea. But it beats what we got now, which is jack shit.”
“Right.”
