Two days later, his laptop started acting strange. The cooling fan spun at maximum speed even when no programs were open. Random command prompts flashed on his screen for a fraction of a second. Then, the real nightmare began: he received an alert from his bank. Someone had attempted a $2,000 wire transfer to an offshore account.
"It’s just a false positive," he muttered, watching the progress bar crawl across the screen.
Panic set in. Leo tried to open his editing software, but every file on his hard drive—his documentary footage, his portfolio, his family photos—now had the extension .CRYPT .
A single text file sat on his desktop: READ_ME_FOR_YOUR_FILES.txt . It demanded two Bitcoin in exchange for a decryption key. The "crack" he thought was a bargain had actually been a Trojan horse, a piece of ransomware designed to wait until he was most vulnerable.