Hacked (17 page)

You don’t want a blow by blow of the countdown to E-Day. There was stress, and revision, and in between a few nice bits – sharing a large tub of Ben & Jerry’s Caramel Chew Chew with Ruby, the odd hour gaming round at Joe’s (Ty wouldn’t come because it wasn’t in his revision timetable), watching Michael McIntyre with Dad, sleeping … but everything was tainted by the trip to London, looming over us like the Shard.

I tried to write a blog, like Ruby suggested, but however I described what I’d done, I sounded guilty. There’s a big difference between a good cause like saving the planet and what I did.

Saturday night, Dad tried to improve the family mood by taking us to The Cambridge Arms to eat. I resisted the urge to call it my ‘last meal’. Ruby came with us, after ringing her mum and lying about where she was.

‘How are you?’ asked the barman.

‘OK,’ I said.

The five of us were sitting reading the menus before we chose the same as normal, when my phone delivered a message. It was Ty.

where r u

Cambridge

be there in 5

That was when a new set of dominoes started to fall, one by one.

Ty arrived with his laptop.

‘I was going to show the twins Anna doing the cinnamon-eating, but when I put her name into YouTube there was a new one. Look!’

We crowded round the screen. He pressed play, and nothing happened.

‘You need Wi-Fi,’ said Ruby.

‘They don’t let you have it,’ said Dad. ‘It’s not a library.’

‘Is it something to do with the extradition?’ said Mum.

Ty’s nod sent Mum up to the bar and in two seconds she had the password.

Play.

There was Anna. Blonde, wavy hair, blue eyes, pink lips, tanned face, navy T-shirt. All American, in other words.

‘I declare, that everything I’m about to say is true, so help me God.’ She was looking straight at camera with her palm up, like it was a proper oath. ‘I deliberately infected thousands of strangers’ computers for someone I met on the web in exchange for points …’ The story went on, and then got better. ‘Dan Langley, who lives in England, did something for the same stranger, and like me, he didn’t know what she was planning. That stranger was called Dronejacker by the news people. We thought she was called Angel. She was only discovered because
Dan tracked her down. Her real identity has been kept secret, even though she is the
only
criminal.’

Anna took a sip of water. The short silence made me aware that the whole pub was listening.

‘The US Government have asked for Dan to be extradited, but that’s not fair, unless I’m extradited too. Dan and I, who have never met, are not terrorists, we are only guilty of being very good at writing code and very bad at asking the questions we should have. That is not a reason to take a boy away from his sister and Mom and Dad. My parents will see this video and be mad. Please repost before they ask me to take it down, to save Dan Langley.’

Stunned. I was absolutely stunned. And moved. There was an eruption of cheers and clapping. Mum was teary. Dad was beaming. El was holding onto Ruby. People started to edge over and wish me luck. Another round of drinks came over, free of charge.

‘Would you mind playing it again?’ said a woman about Mum’s age who had been sitting the other side of the bar. ‘I didn’t hear the beginning.’

Ty propped the laptop up on the counter where you order food and put the volume on max.

Afterwards the same woman got out her phone, and said, ‘Anyone in the room who agrees that Dan’s extradition threat is a disgrace, get sharing, blogging, tweeting, tell people …’

That was the second domino, falling with a great loud thump.

We stayed till late, all except Ruby who tried to slip away at nine-thirty but got noticed.

‘Do you have to go?’ said Mum. ‘Dan’ll happily walk you home later.’

‘Her mum doesn’t know about us,’ I said, to save Ruby having to.

Ruby looked ashamed.

‘Once Dan’s in the clear, I’m sure that will … sort itself out,’ said Mum. She leant over and kissed Ruby’s cheek.

‘Mum!’ said El.

Dad tried to kiss El but she backed away so she was nearly sitting on Ty. All I could hear was laughing.

As soon as we got home, I went and fetched my laptop and joined Mum and Dad in the kitchen, where El was making hot chocolate for us and coffee for them.

‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ I said. They were in a hurry to share the link, convinced the YouTube video would already have loads of views. I let them check the home computer. I was more interested in seeing if I’d had a message from Anna. I found:

I got your voice message but dont know your cell number – go to
www.youtube.com/user/annacando

I typed:
thank you so much

‘Dan, come and see.’

I shifted round a bit.

It was two hours since we’d seen the video, and four since Anna had posted it. We could hardly expect there to be thousands of hits, and there weren’t. But … Google ‘Save Dan Langley’, and it was a different picture. People – people I didn’t know – were talking about me. Unlike last time, when I was the devil, this time I was David and America was the big bad Goliath and Anna was my fairy godsister. I re-activated my Twitter account and wrote:

Thanks everyone #saveDanLangley

The campaign grew in real time as we watched, with hardly any trolls piling in.

‘Don’t underestimate the power of a pretty face,’ said Dad.

‘Or people’s natural sense of justice,’ said Mum.

‘Or how much the British love an underdog.’ Dad winked at me. ‘How’s it feel, Dan?’

I didn’t have a word for it.

‘Brilliant,’ said El.

By midnight, Anna’s plea and/or my extradition had been mentioned on human rights’ sites, shared by feminists, on Mumsnet and on /digi/. The fuss only died down as Britain went to bed. About two-thirty we
logged the outside world out, but not before I tweeted to Anna.

@Annacando #AnnaRothenberg I can never thank you enough #saveDanLangley

It got retweeted right away. People were on my side.

I hit the pillow and for once I didn’t dream about orange onesies and food in metal trays.

Sunday – eight days till E-Day.

Dad went and bought all the papers – just in case. I’d made the
Observer
. A politician, one in opposition, was ranting about the totally ‘lopsided’ Extradition Act. The article was full of numbers that basically showed that seven Brits get packed off for every one US citizen sent here. Pretty appalling given that there are tons more people living in America than Britain. Dad read the last paragraph out loud:

‘All the US Attorney General has to provide, to tear sixteen-year-old Dan Langley away from his family and everything he knows, is an outline of the alleged offence, the punishment specified by statute and an accurate description of Dan himself. If Dan Langley were a US citizen, however, he would have the right to a court hearing in his home country to examine the evidence against him before any warrant was issued. The UK’s National Cyber Crime Unit has questioned Dan Langley and released him without charge, yet he is due to appear at Westminster Magistrate’s Court on 23rd June for an extradition hearing. Does the Home
Secretary believe this represents justice for Dan Langley?’

We ate pain au chocolat while we swapped the latest tweets, mentions and messages. People from school Snapchatted me with ‘Save Dan Langley’ written on their faces, walls, a thigh (that was Soraya). El was hyper – if she couldn’t be famous herself, a famous brother would do.

‘Can I make a Twitter account?’ she asked Mum.

‘I suppose so.’

She called herself @DanLangleyssister. As soon as I sent her a tweet, all my followers followed her. It was a bad decision for my reputation, but excellent for pulling heartstrings. El sent tweet after tweet saying that the chickens would miss me, and Gran would miss me, and she’d need my help on Club Penguin and loads more – all lies.

he buys me chocolate when I’m sad #saveDanLangley

he makes Mum tea in bed when she’s on nights #saveDanLangley

Ruby was off with the wildlife volunteers but she called me from some bit of countryside somewhere to see how I was, which gave me an excuse to slide off to my room, lie on the bed and remember when she was in it with me.

‘Isaac’s filed a petition to have your case discussed in the House of Commons,’ she said.

‘Say thank you for me,’ I said.

‘Already have. I think it’s going to be OK, Dan.’

‘Me too,’ I said.

‘Got to go – we’re hacking back nettles.’

‘I’m not happy about you hacking.’

She snorted at my bad joke and ended the call.

I heard El running up the stairs, but before I had time to jump up and block her way she was standing with her face in mine.

‘Out,’ I said. ‘Being nice now doesn’t make up for the snot on my sock and the Facebook —’

She shoved her hand over my mouth to shut me up, pointed at my computer with her other hand and said, ‘Log in.’

There was a tweet from @4liberty

@DanLangley Fast-track extradition is justice denied #saveDanLangley

‘Dad said they’re important.’

I knew more about 4Liberty than Dad, because the
Guardian
gets delivered on Saturdays and I occasionally read it. Dad only scans the sport and does the puzzles – enough said.

‘They campaign to protect your human rights,’ I told El. We went on to their website, clicked on something called ‘Extradition Eyes’ and read the whole thing – the press releases, the cases, the ways in which the Extradition Act 2003 was flawed, and why it should change.

I went onto 4Liberty’s Facebook page to join, and spent ages reading all the notifications and messages
on my page while I was there. El must have drifted away. I clicked back, intending to copy some of Liberty’s stuff to show Charlie Tate, and got a surprise. They’d updated the page to put the basics of my case up there with a Twitter button to click to join the #saveDanLangley campaign.

Awesome! Hate the word, but truly, it was awesome.

A couple of journalists arrived before breakfast.

‘Coffee?’ Mum asked them – bit of a change of heart!

El took out the drinks and sat on the low wall outside our house, posing for photographs and telling them all about her plans to be a doctor. She dragged the four of us out to have a shot done together, before I headed off to my chemistry exam.

‘That wasn’t bad,’ said Ruby afterwards.

‘Was for me,’ I said. ‘I messed up.’ No revision over the weekend, plus the media frenzy, meant I couldn’t remember half the bits I
did
know.

‘I could come back to yours for a bit?’ she said, as Ty and Joe appeared.

‘That’d be great,’ I said, ‘except the press are outside.’ Sad face.

‘We’ll all come,’ said Joe. ‘Ruby can pretend to be with me.’

‘Dream on,’ she said.

While the four of us walked through the park, more dominoes were falling – dominoes the size of bricks.

No one was outside the house. The neighbour said they’d gone for fish and chips. Ruby got the bread out and shoved it in the toaster. Ty got cheese and helped himself to a lump. I got my laptop. Joe went to the loo. We had cheese and jam (Ruby’s choice) on toast, washed down with Ribena at the kitchen table. I scrolled down the tweets. More of the same. Except one from @d_89johnson.

@Annacando @DanLangley And then there were three …
youtube.com/watch?v=pVD8ac

I clicked the link.

‘This might be interesting.’

He was … maybe fifty, American, jacket and checked shirt, actor-type face, spoke slowly and carefully, probably reading from a script.

‘I am not going to say this as formally as an affidavit, although I am willing to do so if the situation regarding the young Brit, Dan Langley, does not resolve itself. My name is David Johnson and I am a research scientist at the University of Southern California. I am recording this at home in Pasadena.’

Breath.

‘Around two months ago I made a video simulating a drone crashing in a wooded area for someone I believed was working on a school project. We met on an amateur videographer forum. Angel, as she was called, thanked me and I heard nothing more from her. I gave no further thought to either the video or her, until an assistant in my laboratory told me about
Anna Rothenberg. At this point I realised I too had been party to the work of Dronejacker. I believe it was my video that was used to fool the operator and replace the live feed from the drone that threatened the lives of innocent civilians in England. I have made this statement to support Dan Langley, because my conscience will not allow me to ignore his predicament. So,’ he paused and looked a bit bashful before saying, ‘I join Anna Rothenberg in asking you, please, to save Dan Langley!’

We laughed and laughed. We played him again, and then for fun I played him backwards. The fact that a grown-up with a good job was involved seemed to make what had happened a whole lot more believable. Kids might muck about but not the likes of David Johnson. The media felt the same. Having a new victim of Angel’s cunning prompted more coverage. We were on a roll. And we hadn’t even seen the
Boston Globe
by that time.

Anna Rothenberg’s dad had written a piece on the opinion page. It was two o’clock British time when the article made its way across the Atlantic.

‘Although it is the involvement of my daughter, Anna, that has compelled me to declare, today, my lack of faith in the way the Extradition Act 2003 is being used, it is a view I have long held. The act was intended to expedite extradition of terror suspects in the aftermath of 9/11, not to target clever children and teenagers operating at a level above that which the lawmakers themselves can understand.’

Wow! Big me up, why don’t you?

I won’t forget that afternoon. Me and my three mates sat at the table for ages, being happy. Ty temporarily abandoned his revision schedule – that’s how good it felt. Charlie rang and apologised for not being more proactive when I told him about finding Anna. Ruby, before she left, said she was going to tell her mum about us as soon as the hearing was over. My mum came home with a bunch of flowers from the staff on the ward. Dad picked up El, whose class had made a good luck card for me. Supper was chatty, the shadow hardly there.

Seven days till E-Day and it was all good.