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Cyberjihad. Terrorism on the Internet? A Plausible Idea in Today’s World
February, 2005 | Robert Lanzone

Posted on 03/14/2005 9:11:56 PM PST by ctrlgrid

Terrorism on the Internet – a plausible idea in today’s world – is both intriguing and frightening. Author Robert Lanzone’s first novel, Cyberjihad, chronicles just such a clandestine scheme.

What kind of harm can terrorists achieve on the Internet? Author Robert Lanzone's novel, Cyberjihad (ISBN 1-4208-2145-8) reveals a terrorist plot so convincing, it places the book on the hairy edge of non-fiction.

Synopsis: A Wall Street computer whiz travels through cyberspace, where he stumbles upon terrorists plotting to destabilize the world’s economy and nuclear defenses. Reluctantly sucked in by government bureaucrats, this computer genius becomes torn between the safety of loved ones and diffusing acts of global terrorism.

Plot Details: Kyle Pemberton, a Wall Street computer whiz, takes on an international assignment after the untimely death of Christopher Moran, his good friend and predecessor on an important IT project at their firm. In his new role, he shadows a dubious consultant through cyberspace and stumbles upon a clandestine computer network called the Control Grid. In his quest to investigate, Kyle enlists the help of his trusted colleagues. Together, they launch an incursion into the labyrinth of computer networks and communication lines. Unfortunately, they spark the attention of the Cyberjihad, a terrorist organization plotting to infiltrate this fabric of connections and circuitry to destabilize the world's security and economy. The terrorists scramble to use the Control Grid to eliminate Kyle and his cyber-compatriots, hastening an international crisis. Pemberton ultimately finds himself faced with the colossal task of short-circuiting global terrorism.

Author Robert Lanzone is a member of The Long Island Writers’ Guild, Inc. He has had short stories published in several anthologies, including Fantasies and The Taj Mahal Review by Cyberwit, and in Long Island Expressions, an anthology for autism awareness.

Visit for more information.

TOPICS: Books/Literature; Computers/Internet; Conspiracy
KEYWORDS: conspiricy; cyberjihad; cyberterror; internet; mystery; terrorism; terrorists; web

1 posted on 03/14/2005 9:11:58 PM PST by ctrlgrid
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To: ctrlgrid

Good luck with your book. Sounds interesting.

2 posted on 03/14/2005 10:59:57 PM PST by Defiant (This tagline has targeted 10 journalists intentionally, that I personally know of.)
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Comment #3 Removed by Moderator

To: ctrlgrid

Attempts at "cyberwar" would result in Mutually Assured Annoyance.

4 posted on 03/15/2005 9:00:02 AM PST by Poohbah ("Hee Haw" was supposed to be a television show, not a political movement.)
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To: Defiant

An Excerpt from Cyberjihad
New York City
Monday, November 28th, 7:58 AM EST
26 Days, 16 Hours, 2 Minutes until Cyberjihad
I have the information to nail that son of a bitch to the wall, Christopher Moran thought, pulling a floppy disk from his breast pocket and rotating it between his fingertips. He stared through the taxi's dirty window with eyes that ached. The view of the financial district appeared and disappeared between the buildings as the cab made its way downtown. Glancing up at the rearview mirror, he saw the cabby's eyes watching him.

"Rough weekend, my friend?"

Christopher glared out of his window. "You have no idea."

Christopher had grown suspicious of the consultant hired to help with BIG's (Bond Index Group) computer installation. Big also, were the troubled business unit's computer problems. The root cause of project delays and complications pointed toward the consultant. Still, this left one unanswered question. Why had the consultant modified BIG's network hubs? This was way beyond the scope of the project and even so, it was not their responsibility. Christopher tried to confront him, but was met by marked arrogance. This sparked a fire within Christopher, which drove him to thoroughly examine everything twice until they were dead charred embers. He had poured over the computer configuration and log files until headaches from eyestrain pounded his temples. The past weekend's efforts were just as fatiguing, but in the end, productive. He slipped the floppy disk back into his pocket and smiled. He had the consultant nailed.

The taxi turned the corner as vapor peeled off the pavement and formed a dreary mist three feet into the air. The East River's polluted water, seeping into New York Harbor, capped one end of the street. At the other end sat a brown, sandstone House of God with a neo-gothic spire that was dwarfed by the skyscrapers surrounding it. A black wrought iron fence with spear shaped pickets enclosed the church grounds. Weather-beaten gravestones, many of them hundreds of years old, lay banded in tight rows across the landscape.

The cab double-parked next to a livery limousine halfway up the street and Christopher handed the driver a ten. "Keep the change."

Wading through the mist, he crossed the street toward the billion-dollar Money Center Banking and Security Holdings building that dominated the skyline. The upper floors of the forty-seven story building had glass enclosed turret offices that gave the occupants a panoramic view of the city. Christopher wove through the throng of Wall Street suits as he approached the entrance, two revolving doors flanked by five-story granite columns. The acronym MCBASH crowned the doors in gold letters.

Screeching tires spun on the damp pavement behind him. He turned, but it was too late. The wheels of the yellow cab caught and the sedan careened off the street and up onto the sidewalk, smashing into a coffee vendor's silver cart. Christopher felt adrenaline course down his spine as the muscles in his body clenched. He stretched his arm out like a running back fending off a tackle. It would be his final move. The car bulldozed the wagon into Christopher and pinned him against a pillar. The impact hurled the merchant from his cart and he fell unconscious at the curb. The cabby jumped out of his mangled wreck and rushed over to Christopher.

"Allahu Akbar!" he cried.

Blood dripped from Christopher's mouth and ears like oil from an engine's blown head gasket. The cabby slipped his hand inside Christopher's jacket and removed the floppy disk as a crowd began to form.

"I've got to get help," he yelled to nobody in particular as he pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared.

5 posted on 03/15/2005 10:43:38 AM PST by ctrlgrid
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