Killed in Action - A Spy School Story

Chapter 20: Advanced Individual Training

Goodfellow Air Force Base, TX

January 25th, 2019

1700S

Zoe POV

The chalk squeaked as it glided across the dusty blackboard, leaving behind a trail of white, like the ghost of an idea fading into the air. I watched the instructor write out another cryptic symbol, another puzzle to solve. I sat at the front of the classroom, right next to my collegiate athlete bootcamp battle buddy, PV2 Natasha "Amazon" Adams. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting an eerie glow across the worn linoleum floor and the rows of battered metal desks. The air was heavy with the smell of old books and coffee, and the faint whir of a ceiling fan struggling to keep the air moving.

Why don't we have any AC in this damn building... should've fucking gone Chair Force.

Me and my classmates were all here at Goodfellow AFB for the same reason: to become 35P cryptologic linguists in the US Army. It was a demanding course, one not for the faint of heart or low in brain cell count. But despite the mental exhaustion and the constant pressure, it was still a pretty good time. I glanced up at the clock, noticing that there were only a few minutes left in class. Soon, we would be free to return to the barracks, and we had the weekend to study and rest. But before I could even think of my bed, I had to focus on the symbols on the board.

"Private Zibbell," Sergeant First Class Stevenson—our instructor—said, yanking me from my thoughts with his clipped, authoritative voice. "What's the next step in the decryption process?"

Fuck.

"Um," I stammered with a nervous swallow, trying to keep my composure. "We'd first need to break the code by identifying the cipher used, and then perform frequency analysis to find the key words and phrases."

"And if that fails?" SFC Stevenson asked, his scowl deepening as he crossed his arms.

"Well, Sergeant... we'd move on to a cryptanalysis approach, using various techniques such as index of coincidence, letter-frequency analysis, and n-gram analysis to identify patterns in the ciphertext."

"And if that fails?" he repeated, his voice even more ominous this time.

I felt my heart skip a beat. I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice as I frantically thought of the next part of the process.

"In that case, Sergeant," I began. "We would attempt a brute force attack, trying every possible key until we find the one that decrypts the message. However, this method can be extremely time-consuming and computationally intensive, and it's not always feasible, especially if the message is long or the key is truly random."

"So what do you suggest we do?" he asked, his eyes boring into mine.

"If all other methods fail, we could try a social engineering approach. We could attempt to gain access to the cipher key by befriending someone who might have it, either through manipulation or by winning their trust."

The SFC Stevenson's scowl seemed to lessen slightly.

"Go on."

I took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and nervousness as I continued with my answer.

"If we were to go down that route, I would suggest we start by profiling the person we think might have the key. We could gather information about their background, their interests, and their contacts. We could also try to identify any vulnerabilities or motivations that we could exploit to gain their trust."