Friday morning at eight a.m., the phone on the night table next to my bed rang. From the caller ID I knew it was Gretchen, who, having been raised on a farm, likes to come in early:
Tom: Yes, Gretchen, what is it?
Gretchen: Mr. Collins, there’s a… military gentleman here, from… that’s the US Army, sir? Yes, a colonel… oh, I’m sorry, sir, a lieutenant colonel Snodgrass.
Tom: I don’t recall making an appointment with anyone like that today.
Gretchen: Well, he doesn’t actually have one – he was waiting outside the office door when I came in to open up. But he does say that, uh, your country needs you, and he has to speak with you about an urgent matter, right away.
Tom: Oh, all right. Ask him if he’d like you to put him on speaker phone and have me talk to him right now, or if whatever it is that’s crawled up in his skivvies can wait until I drive downtown before I pull it out.
Gretchen: Lieutenant colonel Snodgrass? Mr. Collins has offered an immediate telephone conversation, or, if you prefer, he will make every effort to meet with you in person as soon as possible… yes, I understand. Tom, lieutenant colonel Snodgrass tells me that he’s under orders not to discuss his… issues of interest over any
telecommunications channels, and that he’ll be waiting here for you to meet in person as soon as you can arrange to do so. But he also would like to know your ah, ETA, he says.
Tom: Very good. Thank lieutenant colonel Snodgrass, tell him that I understand his security requirements, and that I will try my utmost to meet with him before nine.
Gretchen: Yes, Mr. Collins. I’ll tell him.
Tom: Thanks. ‘Bye.
Snodgrass was already seated in front of my desk when I arrived. His uniform was immaculate, his decorations perfectly placed, every button burnished. I could have used one of his spit shined shoes as a mirror with which to shave, and to tell the truth, having hastily dressed and broken a number of traffic laws on the way to downtown Washington, I needed one. Bolt upright, staring straight ahead, he might have been either a Zen monk contemplating Nothingness or a deactivated DoD android, but once I approached and offered my hand, that ceased, albeit not immediately.
“Tom Collins,” I cordially informed him as he rose and offered a handshake I can only describe as exceedingly ordinary. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I was ordered to,” he offered, by way of explanation, I suppose.
I took a seat behind my desk, swiveling to face him as he resumed his perch, now leaning forward slightly and treating me to what I must admit was an excellent military poker face.
“And how,” I gently inquired, “might I serve my country today?”
“Mr. Collins,” he began in a stern and measured tone, “the United States of America currently faces a level of threat few people really appreciate. Our armed forces are rising to greater challenges with fewer resources than at any other time in this century.”
“You are, in fact,” I remarked, by way of clarification, “actually referring to the twentieth century, are you not?”
“I mean, Mr. Collins,” he resolutely told me, “exactly what I said. And we are doing it with the biggest bang for the buck, ever .”
“An unprecedented bang,” I observed , “delivered for a mere twenty-two percent of the federal budget.”
“That’s sixteen point six percent, Mr. Collins,” my guest admonished.
“Ah, yes, quite correct,” I agreed, “if only the direct, unclassified funding not associated with the global war on terror, special appropriations for military actions in Iraq, NATO coalition operations in Afghanistan and support of the Department of Homeland Security aren’t counted, which, of course,” I glibly humored, “they shouldn’t be.”
“Right,” he snapped back with a curt and shallow nod.
“Because then,” I continued, “the total would be over thirty-six percent, and that, as we both know, would be wrong.”
“Unpatriotic,” Snodgrass declared.
“Subversive,” I suggested.
“Giving aid and comfort,” Snodgrass proclaimed, “to America’s enemies.”
“Exactly,” I affirmed. “So sixteen point six percent it is – the best defense a country ever had, for a paltry half-trillion dollars or so a year. But now,” I prompted, “that we’ve reached a suitable level of understanding as to how dire are the straits through which our noble ship of state must sail, how valiant and selfless are its noble crew, and, what an incredibly good deal its passengers, the American people, are getting for the cruise, what’s put a hole in your boat, sir?”
“Something,” Snodgrass muttered through clenched teeth, “so sinister, so vile, so… diabolical, well, let me tell you, Mr. Collins, if the average American were to learn the full story, they’d be ready to chew up dirt and spit bricks.”
“Oh,” I briefly mused, considering the implications, “in that case, you’ve come to the right place. Please, if you would, unsheath your bayonet and cut the cake.”
“Very well, then. I am speaking,” Snodgrass gravely intoned, “of the most formidable threat to American national security since 9/11 – Agent BTZ.”
“Say no more sir,” I requested, quickly swinging into action, using my office computer to access the relevant on-line databases. Several tense minutes passed as I furiously delved into this latest attempt by the forces of Evil to compromise the pristine virtue of Lady Liberty. And it took, I am not ashamed to say, a few moments after the conclusion of that research before I felt adequately prepared to proceed. But at last, I knew the time to do my duty had arrived. “Lieutenant colonel Snodgrass,” I began, “I see here that agent.bzt is a computer worm.”
“You bet your boots,” he seriously confirmed.
“Okay,” I volleyed back with a shrug. “Forgive me for asking, but so what?”
“So,” Snodgrass barked, “the Russians used it to attack CENTCOM and open a cybernetic front in the Iraq war, as well as severely affecting US combat operations in Afghanistan, that’s what! The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff briefed the President about it Wednesday! And then,” he ruefully complained, “somebody let the cat out of the bag, and now the whole world knows about it! My God, Collins, didn’t you see the Washington Post this morning?”
“No,” I admitted, considering, somewhat ruefully myself, that this man was the reason I had not. “What does it say?”
“That US Central Command networks, including some highly classified nodes, were successfully attacked, invaded and compromised by Agent BTZ.” Snodgrass paused for impact. “It says that the Pentagon has been worried about the Russians or the Chinese trying something like this for years. And it says the Russians have already done trial runs, knocking out Estonia’s computer networks in 2007 and wiping Tbilisi, the capital of the Georgian Republic, right off the Internet last summer.”
“Interesting,” I commented as I continued to peruse my search results. “It says here, agent.btz has been around since at least last March.”
“Okay,” Snodgrass replied in a noncommittal tone, “so it’s relatively new, then.”
“Not that new,” I pointed out. “It’s been around considerably longer, under different names – ‘Rootkit32.agent,’ and ‘Trojan-Dropper.agent,’ and it’s based on a much older worm called ‘SillyFDC,’ which has been around since at least 2007, which was itself based on the WORM MUMA trojan – and that appeared on the Internet before 2005.”
“Great,” Snodgrass huffed. “Look, Mr. Collins, enriched uranium has been around since 1945. That doesn’t make it any less dangerous now, does it?”
“Ah, well,” I advised, “that’s the other thing I was just getting too. You see, sir, none of the SillyFDC MUMA worm malware family appear to be listed as… um, serious threats, or anything like that, actually. And, I also note, as I look over these Web posts I have found here on the Internet, that each and every one of them, including agent.btz, have been in the detection and removal files distributed with virtually every anti-virus product sold for at least the last six months.”
Snodgrass sat back, crossed his arms defiantly and gave me a look that could melt the full metal jacket off a nine millimeter round. “Mr. Collins,” he growled, “if what you say is true, maybe you could explain how something like Agent BTZ could bring down the computer networks of the mightiest fighting machine the world has ever known like they were quail getting their butts blown to bull feathers by Dick Cheney and his buddies on a Saturday afternoon?”
“Yes, lieutenant colonel Snodgrass,” I confirmed, “I most certainly can. First of all, however, may I ask if you know why the SillyFDC MUMA worms are known as ‘Win32′ type malware?”
“No,” he owned up, manfully, “I can’t say as I do.”
“Because they are designed to attack and exploit security flaws in the Microsoft Windows 32-bit operating system.”
“And?” Snodgrass raised his eyebrows, skeptical of the implications.
“And that,” I elaborated, “means that if agent.btz runs into a Linux, Unix, BSD, GNU, BeOS, IBM OS/2, Solaris or Apple Macintosh operating system, nothing happens – agent.btz can’t touch computers running on those platforms.”
That, at last, put a crack in Snodgrass’ poker face. “They can’t?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I explained, “so-called ‘system exploits’ happen, as one might gather from the term, at the system level, and, at that level, any of those other operating systems is, well, let’s say, like a genuine French champagne, while Microsoft Windows is, and always has been, a bottle of cheap Charmat bulk process Andre cold duck.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Snodgrass protested, “I like Andre cold duck! We drank it at my wedding. It’s good enough – gets the job done, that’s for sure.”
“And that line of reasoning, sir,” I concluded, “is why Bill Gates has forty billion dollars and, also, I might add, why CENTCOM is, at the moment, up the creek with no paddle.”
“Oh come on,” Snodgrass carped, “you can’t expect the US government to use Apple Computers as a sole-source supplier for their information technology, can you?”
“Oh,” I smiled, “and the entire United States government doesn’t already use Microsoft Windows as its de facto exclusive and sole supplier for workstation operating systems – despite the fact that Microsoft has been found guilty, in federal court, of violating numerous federal laws? Would any other business so obviously operated as a continuing criminal enterprise get anything but a RICO squad from Justice all over them like white on rice? Is the ‘convenience of the government’ so compelling you feel justified not only in ignoring that, but in forcing the American taxpayers to fork over billions more to Microsoft every year, paying those scumbags in Redmond their inflated, unjustified upgrade and licensing fees? And, to top it off, are you guys in DoD IT so clueless that you can’t see this whole histrionic flap you’re making about agent.btz looks completely ridiculous to anybody who knows the score about Windows? Do you really expect any sane person possessing the least scintilla of knowledge about the relevant technologies to believe that the Kremlin is behind this? In a pig’s eye, sir! If any Russians hosed up CENTCOM’s Windows based IT architecture with agent.btz, I guarantee, a full investigation will reveal they were a bunch of Russian school children, because that’s all it has ever taken to break into Windows – school children! And the Joint Chiefs of Staff have the unmitigated stupidity to bring this ridiculous fiasco before the dumbest, least competent President in history and present it as some kind of highly sophisticated attack on the United States, instigated by a major nuclear power? What’s the matter with you bozos at the Pentagon, anyway? Are you really so idiotically self-centered and pathetically vain, you would you rather start World War III than admit Microsoft sucks and you were too just too damn dumb and ignorant to figure that out before Windows stripped buck naked and screwed the pooch, right there on the sidewalk in front of God and everybody?”
Snodgrass’ lip began to tremble. Tears welled up in his eyes, then spilled down his cheeks in copious streams.
“The National Security Agency,” I insisted, “released a tested, certified, high-security distribution of Linux over ten years ago! I know, because I worked on the team that developed it for them, you simpering ninny!”
Snodgrass grabbed his abdomen and doubled over.
“Any machine that can run Windows can run NSA Linux, you know!”
Snodgrass began to sob, very soft, very wet. I did not, however, offer him a Dior handkerchief. “And it’s free, too! That’s right – you could have taken all the money the federal government gave to Microsoft for the last ten years and you could have spent it rehabilitating wounded and disabled American veterans, you disgusting, half-witted twits!”
Snodgrass began rocking back and forth like, well, somebody with Asperger’s syndrome, someone incapable of normal human contact and interaction, or, for that matter, discerning the subtle differences between ethical and criminal business conduct; someone like, say, Bill Gates, for instance.
“Can any of you geniuses in the E-ring explain why the Department of Defense isn’t using NSA Linux in US military theater operations instead of Windows?”
Snodgrass started murmuring, “Mommy… Mommy… Mommy…”
“No,” I berated, “don’t give me any lame excuses that there wasn’t a desktop environment for Linux, either, because I know better! The fact is, a bunch of geeks, whose feet, sir, you and the rest of the brass in our illustrious armed forces aren’t good enough to kiss, went out and developed a perfectly suitable desktop for Linux on their own time, for nothing, and started giving that away. And don’t tell me it took them too long, because for just a tiny portion of the money you guys throw away every year on cost over-runs payed to your favorite old-boy network of defense contractors on sweetheart deals negotiated with DoD representatives on golf courses, at fancy resorts and in expensive restaurants, you could have had an honest IT contractor develop the initial release of a totally bulletproof NSA Linux desktop using SEI CMM Level 5 methodology in nine months!”
Snodgrass began sucking his thumb.
“You wanted answers,” I scolded, “well, here they are! Your so-called IT experts are nothing but incompetent frauds. That’s why they wanted Windows technology – so they could get Microsoft to send brigades of sycophants to stroke their egos while spoon feeding them every step of the way so that they wouldn’t have to think, or learn anything useful or take responsibility for whether or not their systems worked. That’s the truth, lieutenant colonel…”
Snodgrass slid off the chair, crumpling to the floor.
“… but you can’t handle the truth!”
Snodgrass curled up into fetal position.
Willy is a paramedic with the DC Fire Department. He’s responded to so many emergency calls at my office at this point, I’m on a first name basis with him. As he and his colleagues wheeled Snodgrass out into the hallway, I guess Willy couldn’t resist a brief conversation. “Mr. Collins,” he sighed, “could you tell me something? What in the world goes on at this place, that we got to come and collect people with the ambulance like this here soldier boy five or six times a year?”
“Well, Willy,” I said, “people come to me for advice. So I listen to their problems, then I give them some. I’m a consultant – that’s what I do.”
“Advice?” Willy shot a meaningful glance at Snodgrass lying on the gurney as the elevator doors opened. “They end up like that there – just by talkin’ to you?”
“Some people,” I explained, “have such severe problems, they simply can’t deal with hearing the solutions.”
Willy slowly shook his head. “Mr. Collins, I’m sure enough glad I don’t have no problems I need to talk to you about.”