He took the name Doomsday when it dawned on him that his true calling in life was destroying the commercial exploitation of software and the Internet. He believed software companies preyed on vulnerable computer users, who had no choice but to use their operating systems and applications. He saw Linux as the only true operating system of the people and felt software should be free to everyone.

     He truly saw himself as something of an avenger, a cyber-Robin Hood. He saw himself as someone who had the moral responsibility to cleanse the world at any cost, even if self-sacrifice was necessary. In effect, he had all the makings of a cyber-terrorist. Doomsday was a legitimate programmer once, but he had "gone to the dark side," as he liked to describe his own awakening. To some extent, Doomsday modeled his activities after white supremacists, only he looked at himself as a software supremacist. He preached computer anarchy, and instead of burning crosses, he crashed hard drives.

     He lived simply and alone, pursuing a monk-like existence, uncaring about his personal appearance. He was a hulking, portly figure with a full unkempt beard that framed a round face accentuated by granny glasses. Clothes were a necessary evil, food was needed only to avoid malnutrition. He cleansed himself infrequently and lived a single step above squalor. He often did not know night from day. His world was not without but within the confines of an illuminated screen that gave him the only sustenance he needed to survive. His obsession was his passion, his passion was his life. There was nothing physically significant about where he was, yet he felt as if cyberspace were the vastest universe he would ever know.

     His skill at manipulating the Internet for his own twisted goals was impressive, and as a result, he had done some considerable damage to networks and computer systems over the past five years. He hurt governments and companies but in his view, not individuals. He penetrated security systems and launched viruses. Yet all of this was nothing compared to what he saw as his ultimate objective, the culmination of his efforts.

     Doomsday had an ambitious if entirely mis-guided goal: to create the greatest, most unstoppable computer virus the world had ever known. His approach was chillingly simple. He had learned through his own network of hackers that both GWare and Incandescent were working on new operating systems. His plan was to infect both systems simultaneously, with a strain of computer virus that he was confident couldn't be stopped. Once the virus was launched, it would self-propagate and render users' computers useless. Doomsday was hoping that this would result in mass pandemonium and, with any luck at all, there would be class action suits filed against both companies. Then they would get what they so richly deserved.

     One of the phones in the NOC rang and the supervisor picked it up. He listened for a few minutes, said a quick thank you, and hung up. He had a tense look on his face and, spotting Marty, quickly came over to him.

     "That was the NIPC," the supervisor said. "They've had the first reports of an attack. NIPC says it's multi-pronged. They're detecting several different viruses, plus numerous DoS incidents. They suspect Trojans are involved as well."

     DoS meant Denial-of-Service. It referred to when hackers overloaded Web sites or e-mail systems with bogus messages, causing the sites or systems to crash. Trojans were illicit programs that allowed unauthorized access to computer systems.

     "Do they know if they're concentrated anywhere in particular?" Marty asked.

     "It's too early to pinpoint…but the initial attacks seem to be targeting federal government agencies and utilities. The gov is being hit with the viruses and Trojans, a couple of the major telcos and ISPs are reporting DoS attacks."

     Marty looked at Erin. "It's begun. Sounds like Doomsday's shooting the moon… he's going after the heart of the country's infrastructure first. Of course, that doesn't mean he'll stop there." Marty turned to the supervisor. "I'd like to go on chat so I can communicate with the other NOCs myself."

     The supervisor nodded and led Marty over to a computer terminal. The NIPC had set up a secure chat so all the NOCs could communicate in real time.

     No sooner had Marty gotten back to his office in San Diego than he had an urgent message for Ted Chambers to call him.

     "Senator, it's Marty Gladstone."

     "Marty, thanks for getting back to me. Things are heating up here in Washington. I'm sure you've heard about Code Red Two. Thankfully it wasn't nearly as severe as Code Red, but it still caused widespread problems."

     "Yes. We were able to get a patch out pretty rapidly and we contained the damage, at least for our own subscribers."

     "Well, Marty, that's great. But now listen to this. The FBI thinks they've finally got a break in their investigation. They've been using a new Internet spying technology. They can actually plant a Trojan horse keystroke logger on a suspected hacker's PC. It hides itself on the computer and captures all keystrokes, even passwords. They don't need to have physical access to the computer."

     "Kind of like a virus sent by the good guys, huh?"

     "Exactly, Marty," Chambers answered. "It seems to be working. They're narrowing down their search and they're closing in on a suspect. They could make an arrest at any time."

     "That's terrific news, Senator. But then, why the urgent message from you?"

     "The problem is," Chambers said, "the FBI has confirmed they have two hackers to worry about. Of course, there's Doomsday, but now there's a Doomsday look-alike. Doesn't appear they're working together, either."

     "Is the FBI sure?"

     "The new technology they're using confirmed it. It's the other hacker they're closing in on. Seems he's the one responsible for Code Red Two."

     The Senator cleared his throat. "Now I've got to tell you something that may disturb you, Marty. They think the hacker is somehow associated with GWare."

     "Jesus," Marty muttered. "Can that be confirmed?"

     "Not yet, but they're pretty confident that's where the road is leading them. You could have a traitor in your midst, Marty."

     Marty couldn't say anything -- he was too stunned to reply.