Social Engineer

Social Engineer - Chapter 14

Today, 9:55am

Jacobsen had remained stubbornly silent since smashing his pen earlier. Red-faced, he finally erupted. 

“This is a fucking joke, Bob! I can’t fucking believe you authorised this. You bastard.”

“Control yourself, Paul,” warned Wilson, her voice a shriek. “We’ve all got to deal with this.”

Brody zoned out of their argument and stopped mirroring his laptop to the large screen.

The raised voices railed on around him, arguing, debating, accusing.

Brody had enjoyed the challenges presented by this pentest, on all levels. He just hoped it would achieve its objectives.

Finally, Moorcroft touched Brody’s arm. The arguments had subsided.

Brody looked up. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, Brody, that it’s clear that your exploits have shown us exactly how exposed we are.”

“True. But most organisations aren’t able to defend against an attack of this level of sophistication. However, for every white hat hacker like me, there are plenty of black hats available for hire, every bit as skilled in social engineering techniques.”

“He means ‘ethical hackers’ versus the ‘evil hackers’ you see in movies,” explained Hall, helpfully.

“You’ve seen what’s possible. Unfortunately, there isn’t an over-arching patch you can apply for human gullibility but there are some basic protections you can put in place immediately. Most of them revolve around employee education . . .”

Jacobsen remained stubbornly silent throughout the next hour, as Brody led them through a plan of action to strengthen their defences against social engineering based attacks. Hall and Wilson took most of the actions and Moorcroft seemed to relax a little. Ten minutes before the end of the meeting, Jacobsen stood up and left. No one said a word, although Moorcroft raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Well, that’s that then.”

Brody guessed that was the end of Jacobsen’s career at HTL.

Some time later, Brody began the two-hour drive back to London in his metallic orange and black, custom-designed Smart Fortwo coupe. As he drove past the electrified perimeter of the HTL campus, the animal activists, seeing a potential ally in such an in-your-face, anti-corporate, environmentally friendly vehicle let him pass peaceably. He drove slowly, scanning their faces for any he recognised, but didn’t spot any of Mel’s friends.

If only they realised he’d been the shameless driver of the white van just a few days before.