Chapter 15
Sunday, December 6
Washington, D.C.
Miles Foster was busy at one of the several computers in his
Washington, D.C. condo. It was necessary, on a daily basis, to
stay in contact with a vast group of people who were executing
portions of his master plan. He thought it was going quite well,
exceedingly so in fact. Spread over 3 continents he remote
controlled engineers and programmers who designed methods to
compromise computers. With his guidance, though. He broke them
into several groups, and none of them knew they were part of a
much larger organization, nor did they have any idea of their
ultimate objective.
Each of his computer criminals was recruited by Alex; that's the
only name that Miles knew. Alex. Miles had drawn up a list of
minimum qualifications for his 'staff'. He forwarded them to
Homosoto, who, Miles guessed, passed them on to the ubiquitous
yet invisible Alex. That obviously wasn't his real name, but
suitable for conversation.
Miles had developed a profile of the various talents he required.
One group needed to have excellent programming skills, with a
broad range of expertise in operating systems. An operating
system is much like English or any other language. It is the O/S
that allows the computer to execute its commands. Unless the
computer understands the O/S, the computer is deaf dumb and
blind. As a child learns to communicate, a computer is imbued
with the basic knowledge to permit it to function. It is still
essentially stupid, that is, it can't do anything on its own
without instructions, but it can understand them when they are
given.
In order to violate a computer, a thorough understanding of the
O/S, or language of the computer is a must. Good programmers
learn the most efficient way to get a computer to perform the
desired task. There are, as in any field, tricks of the trade.
Through experience, a programmer will learn how to fool the
computer into doing things it might not be designed to do. By
taking advantage of the features of the Operating System, many of
them unknown and therefore undocumented by the original designers
of the O/S, a computer programmer is able to extract additional
performance from the equipment.
Similarly, though, such knowledge allows the motivated programmer
to bypass critical portions of the Operating System to perform
specific jobs and to circumvent any security measures that may be
present. For example, in most of the 85,000,000 or so DOS com-
puters in the world, it is common knowledge that when you ERASE a
file, you really don't erase it. You merely erase the NAME of
the file. If a secretary was told to dispose of document from a
file cabinet, and she only removed the name of each file, but
left the contents remaining in the file drawers, she would cer-
tainly have reason to worry for her job. Such is an example of
one of the countless security holes that permeate computer land.
To take advantage of such glaring omissions, several software
companies were formed that allowed users to retrieve 'erased'
files.
These were among the skills that Miles wanted his people to have.
He needed them to be fluent in not only DOS, but Unix, Xenix,
VMS, Mac and a host of other Operating Systems. He needed a
group that knew the strengths and weaknesses of every major O/S
to fulfill his mission. They needed to be able to identify and
exploit the trap doors and holes in all operating and security
systems. From an engineering standpoint, Miles found it terrifi-
cally exciting. Over the three years he had been working for
Homosoto, Miles and his crew designed software techniques and
hardware tools that he didn't believe were even contemplated by
his former employer, the NSA.
The qualifications he sent to Homosoto were extensive, detailed
and demanding. Miles wasn't convinced that anyone but he could
find the proper people. The interview process alone was crucial
to determining an applicant's true abilities, and a mediocre
programmer could easily fool a non-technical person. While Miles
and Homosoto agreed that all programmers should be isolated from
each other, Miles felt he should know them more than by a coded
name over modem lines. Miles lost that battle with one swift
word from Homosoto. No.
To Miles' surprise, within a few days of providing Homosoto with
is recruitment lists, his 'staff' began calling him on his com-
puter. To call Miles, a computer needed his number, and the
proper security codes. To a man, or woman, they all did. And,
as he spoke to them over the public phone lines, in encrypted
form of course, he was amazed at their quality and level of
technical sophistication. Whoever Alex was, he knew how to do
his job.
Over a period of a few months, Miles commanded the resources of
over 100 programmers. But, Miles thought, there was something
strange about most of those with whom he spoke. They seemed
ready to blindly follow instructions without questioning the
assigned tasks. When a programmer takes a job or an assignment,
he usually knows that he will be designing a data base, or word
processor or other application program. However, Miles' staff
was to design programs intended to damage computers.
He had assembed the single largest virus software team in the
world, and none of them questioned the nature or ethics of the
work. Miles would have thought that while there is considerable
technical talent around the world, finding people who would be
willing to work on projects to facilitate the interruption of
communications and proper computer operations would have been the
most difficult part of recruitment. He realized he was wrong,
although he did not know why. Technical mercenaries perhaps? He
had never seen an ad with that as a job title, but, what the
hell. Money can buy anything. Weapons designers since Oppen-
heiner have had to face similar moral dilemmas, and with wide-
spread hatred of things American, recruitment couldn't have been
all that difficult.
As he sat in his apartment, he was receiving the latest virus
designs from one of his programmers who lived in the suburbs of
Paris, France. While there was somewhat of a language barrier
when they spoke, the computer language was a common denominator,
and they all spoke that fluently. It broke down communications
errors. Either it was in the code, or it wasn't.
Miles knew this designer only as Claude. Claude's virus was
small, less than 2K, or 2000 characters, but quite deadly. Miles
went over it and saw what it was designed to do. Ooh, clever,
thought Miles. As many viruses do, this one attached itself to
the Command.Com file of the DOS Operating System. Rather than
wait for a specific future date, the next time the computer was
booted, or turned on, Claude's virus in the O/S would play havoc
with the chips that permit a printer to be connected to the
computer. In a matter of seconds, with no pre-warning, the user
would hear a small fizzle, and smell the recognizable odor of
electronic burn. During the time the user poked his nose around
the computer, to see if the smell was real or imaginary, the
virus would destroy the contents of the hard disk.
According to Claude, whose English was better than most French-
men, there was a psychological advantage to this type of double-
duty virus. The victim would realize that his computer needed
repair and take it be fixed at his local computer shop. But,
alas! Upon its return, the owner would find his hard disk trashed
and attempt to blame the repairman. Deviously clever. Of course
this type of virus would be discovered before too long. After a
few thousand computers had their printer port blown up, word
would get around and the virus would be identified. But, mean-
while, oh what fun.
As Miles prepared to send Claude's latest and greatest to another
of his staff for analysis and debugging, the computer dedicated
to speaking to Homosoto beeped at him. He glanced over at Nip-
Com. He labeled all his computers with abbreviations. In this
case, Nippon Communications seemed appropriate.
<<<<<<CONNECTION>>>>>>
MR. FOSTER
Miles scooted his chair over to NipCom and entered his PRG re-
sponse..
Here Boss-san. What's up
YOU TELL ME.
Huh?
I READ THE PAPERS. AGAIN YOU MOVE PRECIPITOUSLY.
What are you talking about?
FIRST STATE BANK. YOUR INFECTORS ARE WITHOUT DISCIPLINE
I still don't know what you mean
THE PAPERS HAVE SAID THAT FIRST STATE BANK WAS INVADED BY HACKERS
AND THEIR STOCK DROPPED VERY MUCH. IT IS STILL NOT TIME.
Oh, that. Good bit of work.
NO SO MR FOSTER. I AM NOT PLEASED WITH YOU
Me, why? I didn't have anything to do with it
EXPLAIN
Nothing to explain. My group doesn't do that, and even if they
did, so what.
WHAT ABOUT THE VIRUSES? I READ EVERY DAY OF NEW COMPUTER VIRUS.
THEY MUST BE STOPPED.
Why? It's all in good fun. Let 'em release them all they want.
THEY WILL HURT OUR PLANS
Bull. If anything, they help us.
HOW IS THAT?
Getting folks good and nervous. They're beginning to wonder who
they can trust. It sure as hell won't be the government.
BUT IT IS IN THE PAPERS.
So?
THE BANKS WILL PROTECT THEMSELVES. THEY WILL SEEN WHAT THE
HACKERS DO AND MAKE OUR JOB MORE DIFFICULT.
Not a chance. Listen, there are hundreds, maybe thousands or
more of small time hackers who poke around computers all the
time. Sometimes they do some damage, but most of the time they
are in it for the thrill. The challenge. They are loosely
organized at best. Maybe a few students at a university, or high
school who fancy themselves computer criminals. Most of them
wouldn't know what to do with the information if they took it.
The only reason this one hit the papers is because First is under
investigation anyway, some fraud stuff. Literally thousands of
computers are attacked every day, yet those don't appear in the
paper or TV. It's kind of like rape. Companies don't want to
admit they've been violated. And since damage has been limited,
at least as far as the scale upon which we function, it's a non-
issue. I DO NOT SEE IT THAT WAY.
Well, that's the way it is. There are maybe a half dozen well
coordinated hacking groups who care to cause damage. The rest of
them, ignore them. They're harmless.
I WISH I BELIEVED THAT
There's not much we can do about it.
WHY NOT STOP THEM
We can't. Look at our plans. We have hundreds of people who
have a single purpose. We operate as a single entity. The hack-
ers are only a small thorn. Industry can't do much about them,
so they ignore them. It is better that we ignore them, too.
FIND THEM
Who?
THE FIRST BANK ATTACKERS
Why?
I WANT THEM STOPPED
I told you, you can't do that. It's impossible. Call the Arab.
LOOK AT US, MR FOSTER. NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE.
What do you want me to do with them?
TELL ME WHO THEY ARE. I WILL TAKE CARE OF IT.
I'll see what I can do.
DO IT.
<<<<<<CONNECTION TERMINATED>>>>>>
Fuck, thought Miles. Sometimes Homosoto can be such an asshole.
He doesn't really understand this business. I wonder how he got
into it in the first place.
He remembered that he had to get Claude's virus properly analyzed
and tested, so he sent it off to an American programmer who would
perform a sanity-check on it. If all went well he would then
send it out for distribution into America's computers through his
BBS system set up just for that purpose.
With Diet Coke and Benson and Hedges Ultra Lights in hand he
figured he might as well have someone look into Homosoto's para-
noia. With some luck they could get a lead on this anonymous
hacker and maybe Homosoto would leave him alone for a few hours.
The constant interruptions and micro-management was a perpetual
pain in the ass.
Miles moved over to his BBS computer and told ProCom to dial 1-
602-555-3490. That was the phone number of the Freedom BBS,
established by Miles and several recruits that Alex had so ably
located. It was mid morning Arizona time. Revere should be
there.
<<<<<<CONNECTION>>>>>>
Welcome to the Freedom BBS
Owned and Operated by the
Information Freedom League
(Non-profit)
Are You a Member of the IFL? Y
ID: XXXXXXXXX
PASSWORD: XXXXXXXX
Pause . . .
WELCOME TO THE FREEDOM BBS, MF. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
FREEDOM FLASH!!!!!!!!!
Another hacker has been convicted of a computer crime and
has been sentenced to 1 Year in jail, a fine of $25,000 and
2000 hours of community service!
His crime? Larry Johnson, a respected hacker from Milwau-
kee, WI, was a founding member of the 401 Group over 10
years ago. Since then he has been hacking systems success-
fully and was caught after he added $10,000 to his bank
account.
GOOD FOR THE SECRET SERVICE! Congratulations Guys!
The IFL believes in a free exchange of information for all
those who wish to be willing participants. We whole-heart-
edly condemn all computer activities that violate the law
and code of computer ethics. All members of IFL are expect-
ed to heed all current computer legislation and use comput-
ers exclusively for the betterment of mankind.
Any IFL member found to be using computers in any illegal
fashion or for any illegal purpose will be reported to the
Computer Crime Division of the Secret Service in Washington,
D.C.
Remember, hacking is a crime!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A little thick, thought Miles, but effective. And a stroke of
genius. He patted himself ion the back every time he saw how
effective Freedom, his computer warfare distribution system was.
DO YOU WANT THE MAIN MENU? No
DO YOU WANT TO SPEAK TO REVERE? Y
LET ME SEE IF HE IS HERE, OR IF YOU NEED TO LEAVE A MESSAGE.
ONE MOMENT PLEASE. . .
THE SYSOP IS WAITING. PLEASE ENTER YOUR PIN: XXXX-XXXX
Pause . . .
MF? IS THAT YOU?
Betch'ure ass. Revere? How's trix?
SAME OL' SAME OL'. YOU?
Trying to make a profit. Hey, we gotta talk.
OUT LOUD?
No whisper.
OK. LET ME SET IT.
<<CRYPT KEY SELECTION>>
Pause . . .
<<CRYPT KEY EXCHANGE>>
Pause . . .
<<TRANSMISSION ENCODED>>
MF?
Still here.
GOOD. SURPRISES THE SHIT OUT OF ME EVERY TIME THIS WORKS.
Me too.
WHAT CAN I DO? GOT ANOTHER PRESENT?
Couple of days, sure. Some doosies.
WHAT'YA GOT?
A graphics program that kicks the living shit out of VGA Master
and Paint Man. Deadly too.
HOW?
Copies portions of itself into Video RAM and treats it as a TSR.
Next program you load gets infected from Video RAM and spreads
from there. Undetectable unless you're running debug at the same
time and looking for it. Then it stealths itself into all V-RAM
applications and spreads outside the O/S.
TRIGGERS?
I forget the exact trigger mechanism, but it gives constant
parity errors. Nothing'll run.
OK! LOOKIN' GOOD.
Also have a few Lotus utilities, a couple of games.
THE GAMES ARE GOING GREAT GUNS. WE SHOULD BE SELLING THEM IN THE
STORES.
How many?
AS OF A WEEK AGO, MORE THAN 240,000 PACK-LADIES HAVE BEEN DOWN
LOADED. THAT'S OUR BEST SELLER.
Anyone sending money?
SURPRISINGLY, YES. WE'RE TURNING A PROFIT.
Shit. That's not what we wanted.
CAN'T KEEP A GOOD PROGRAM DOWN.
Yeah Yeah Yeah. Need some info.
THAT'S OUR MIDDLE NAME. WHAT DO YOU NEED?
You hear about the First Bank hacker?
SURE! I GOT A DOZEN PEOPLE TAKING CREDIT FOR IT.
You're kidding
NO! IT'S A GOOD ONE. BRING A BANK TO IT'S KNEES. STOP STOCK
TRADING. SEC INVESTIGATION. A LOT OF OUR FOLKS WOULD HAVE BEEN
PROUD.
Was it us?
NO WAY.
Then who, really?
DAMNED IF I KNOW OR CARE.
Care
WHAT? SINCE WHEN DO WE CARE ABOUT THE AMATEURS?
Since now. Things are heating up too soon. I need to know who
pulled the job.
I CAN GET A LOT OF PEOPLE TO ADMIT IT, BUT I CAN'T VERIFY IT.
Whoever did it is not likely to advertise it openly. We may need
to pull him into the open.
GOTCHA
Here's my thinking. Assume the hack is just a kid. He's getting
no credit and receives a shitty allowance. So, we offer a re-
ward. Whoever can prove that they are the one's who broke into
First Bank, we'll send them a new 386. Whatever, use your imagi-
nation.
THINK HE'LL BITE?
If it's a pro, no. But this doesn't ring of a pro. The news-
papers know too much.
AND IF WE FIND HIM?
Just get me his number and shipping address. Make sure he gets
the computer too.
OK BOSS. ANYTHING ELSE?
Keep up the good work. Oh, yeah. I need the estimates.
NO PROBLEM. THEY LOOK GREAT. IN JUST OVER 2 YEARS, WE HAVE
GIVEN AWAY OVER 1,300,000 INFECTED PROGRAMS AND NONE HAVE GONE
OFF YET. ACCORDING TO PLAN.
Love it. Peace.
BYE, YOU MF.
<<<<<<CONNECTION TERMINATED>>>>>>
* * * * *
Monday, December 7
New York City
The phone on Scott Mason's desk had been unusually, but grateful-
ly quiet. Higgins had been able to keep the First State lawyers
at bay with the mounds of information the paper had accumulated
on MacMillan's doings. The bank's stock was trading again, but
at a dilution of over 75%. Most individual customers had cashed
out their accounts, including Higgins, and only those long term
portfolios remained. Scott's stories on First Bank had won him
recognition by his peers. No awards, but an accolade at the New
York Journalists Club dinner. Not bad, he thought.
Now the hard work continued for him. The full background analy-
ses, additional proof, more witnesses now that Sidneys was under
Federal indictment and out of work. MacMillan was in trouble,
but it was clear to Scott, that if the heat got turned up too
much, there was a cache of millions offshore for the person with
the right access codes.
His phone rang.
"Scott Mason."
"Hey, Scott this is Kirk. We gotta talk, I'm in trouble." Kirk
sounded panicked.
"Damn Klingons," Scott cracked.
"Seriously, I'm in trouble. You gotta help me out."
Scott realized this was no prank. "Sure, sure, calm down. What
happened?"
"They found me, and they got into my computer and now it's
gone . . .shit, I'm in trouble. You gotta help me."
"Kirk!" Scott shouted. "Kirk, relax, ground yourself. You're
not making sense. Take it from the beginning."
Kirk exhaled heavily in Scott's ear, taking several deep breaths.
"O.K., I'm O.K., but should we be talking on the phone?"
"Hey, you called me . . .," Scott said with irritation.
"Yeah, I know, but I'm not thinking so good. You're right, I'll
call you tonight."
Click.
* * * * *
Nightline was running its closing credits when Scott's home
computer beeped at him. Though Kirk had not told him when to
expect a call, all other communications had begun precisely at
midnight, so Scott made a reasonable deduction.
The dormant video screen came to life as the first message
appeared.
MASON
That was unlike Kirk to start a conversation that way.
wtfo
ITS ME. KIRK.
Now it was Scott's turn to be suspicious.
Prove it.
AW CMON
Prove it.
I CALLED YOU TODAY
So did half of the crack pots in New York
I'M IN TROUBLE
So were the others.
OK. WE WENT THROUGH THE BANK AND HAD SOME FUN WITH PRESSED RAT
AND WHARTHOG, INC.
Good enough. You sound as scared here as you did on the phone.
I thought computers didn't have emotion.
I DO.
OK, what's up.
THEY FOUND ME
Who?
THE PEOPLE FROM FIRST STATE BANK.
How? What?
I RECEIVED A MESSAGE ON MY COMPUTER, E-MAIL. IT SAID, STAY AWAY
FROM FIRST STATE BANK. YOUR HACKING CAREER IS OVER. OR ELSE.
What did you do?
CALLED A FEW FRIENDS WHO THINK THEY'RE FUNNY.
And?
HONOR AMONG THIEVES. IT WASN'T THEM. SO I FIGURED IT WAS FOR
REAL.
You sure?
AS SURE AS I CAN BE. MY ACTIVITIES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE SECRET.
NO ONE KNOWS. EXCEPT YOU.
And you think I did something.
THE THOUGHT CROSSED MY MIND MORE THAN ONCE, I'LL TELL YOU. BUT, I
THINK I HAVE ELIMINATED YOU
Thanks, Why?
NO MOTIVATION. I'M MORE USE TO YOU ALIVE THAN DEAD.
Excuse me?
AS LONG AS MY IDENTITY AND ACTIVITIES REMAIN SECRET, I'M ALIVE AS
A HACKER AND CAN CONTINUE TO DO WHAT I DO. AS SOON AS I'M FOUND
OUT, IT'S OVER. BUT THAT'S NOT THE PROBLEM.
What is?
I CAME HOME THIS MORNING AND FOUND THAT SOMEONE BROKE IN AND
TRASHED EVERYTHING. COMPUTERS, PRINTERS, MONITORS, THE WHOLE
BALL OF WAX. AND THERE WAS A NOTE.
What did it say?
WE KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE. STAY OUT OF OUR COMPUTERS OR YOU WILL
BE SORRY. IT WAS SIGNED FIRST STATE BANK.
That doesn't make sense.
WHAT DOESN'T
Nobody except terrorists leave their calling card, and then only
when they're sure they can't be caught. I would bet dollars to
donuts that First State had nothing to do with it.
ARE YOU SURE?
No, I'm not sure, not 100%, but it doesn't add up. You've
stepped on somebody's toes, and it may or may not have anything
to do with First State. They're just trying to scare you.
AND DOING A DAMNED GOOD JOB OF IT
Have you called the police.
NO. NOT YET. I'M NOT IN THE LINE OF WORK THEY PROBABLY APPROVE
OF.
So I see. Who else knew about your trips through the bank, other
than me. I will assume I'm not the guilty party.
A COUPLE OF HACKER FRIENDS, MY GIRLFRIEND, THAT'S ABOUT IT.
No one else?
NOT THAT I CAN THINK OF.
Let me ask you. If you wanted to find out who was hacking where,
how would you find out? Let's say you wanted to know what your
friends were doing. Is there a way?
NOT WITHOUT A LOT OF EXPENSIVE EQUIPMENT. NO. YOU WOULD HAVE TO
TELL SOMEONE.
And you told no one? No one?
WELL, THERE WAS FREEDOM.
What's Freedom?
FREEDOM IS A NATIONAL BBS SYSTEM. IT'S FAIRLY NEW.
What do they do?
LIKE MOST BBS'S, IT'S AN OPEN FORUM FOR EXCHANGE OF INFORMATION,
PROGRAMS, ETC. IT IS ONE OF THE LARGEST IN THE COUNTRY. THEY
HAVE BBS AFFILIATES IN 50 OR 60 CITIES. THEY ALSO RUN A SHARE-
WARE SERVICE.
Is that significant?
MOST SHAREWARE COMPANIES SELL THEIR SOFTWARE ON OTHER PEOPLE'S
BBS'S. THE CONCEPT IS SIMPLE. THEY GIVE AWAY THEIR SOFTWARE FOR
FREE. IF YOU LIKE IT, YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO SEND IN A FEW DOLLARS
AS A REGISTRATION, AND THAT'S HOW THEY MAKE MONEY. IT'S PART OF
THE CULTURE, DON'T BECOME RICH ON SOFTWARE. FREEDOM WRITES A
TREMENDOUS AMOUNT OF SOFTWARE AND THEY PUT IT ON THEIR OWN AS
WELL AS OTHER BBS'S. IT'S REAL SMART. THEY BASICALLY HAVE THEIR
OWN METHOD TO DISTRIBUTE THEIR SOFTWARE.
Do they make money?
WHO KNOWS. IT LOOKS LIKE A BIG OPERATION. VERY FEW SHAREWARE
PEOPLE MAKE MONEY, AND FREEDOM SAYS ITS NON-PROFIT.
Non-Profit did you say? Are you sure?
THAT'S WHAT THEY SAY.
What's their number?
I ONLY HAVE THE LA NUMBER.
So you are from the Coast.
SHIT. YEAH. I'M FROM THE COAST.
That was an accident. I really don't care.
I KNOW. IT MAY NOT MATTER. I MAY GIVE IT UP. I DON'T NEED MY
COMPUTERS BEING BLOWN TO SMITHERINES TO TELL ME I'M BARKING UP
THE WRONG TREE.
Maybe it is the right tree.
WHAT?
Never mind. So, you said you told them?
WELL, KIND OF. YOU SEE, THEY ARE VERY MUCH AGAINST HACKING.
THEY ALWAYS TALK ABOUT PROSECUTING HACKERS, HOW BAD WE ARE.
AFTER THE FIRST STATE ARTICLES YOU WROTE, A LOT OF PEOPLE ON THE
CHAT LINE CLAIMED TO HAVE DONE THE JOB. NOT THAT WE REALLY DID
ANYTHING. WE JUST LOOKED AROUND. ALL THESE GUYS ADMITTED TO
HAVE DONE IT, SO I ADDED MY TWO CENTS AND SAID I DID IT. I
THOUGHT IT MIGHT ADD TO THE CONFUSION.
Apparently it did.
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
Let's say I had something to hide, and let's even say I was First
State.
SO
So, a bunch of people claim to have wrecked havoc on a computer.
What easier way to cover all the possible bases than to threaten
them all.
YOU MEAN EVERYONE WHO ADMITTED IT? OR CLAIMED IT?
Right. Get to them all.
BUT HOW WOULD FIRST STATE KNOW ABOUT IT?
I'm not saying they did. Do you know any of the others who
claimed responsibility?
NOT PERSONALLY. ONLY ONE GUY NAMED DA VINCI I'VE TALKED TO.
Can you call him?
SURE, HE'S ON FREEDOM ALL THE TIME.
Don't use Freedom. Is there any other way to contact him? On
another BBS?
IT WOULDN'T BE HARD TO FIND OUT, BUT WHY NOT FREEDOM?
Look. This BBS may be the only link between the First State hack
you and I were in on, by the way, did you use my name?
DIDN'T NEED TO. YOU WROTE THE ARTICLE. YOU'RE GETTING VERY WELL
KNOWN.
Thanks for the warning. HA! At any rate, you check it out with
this Da Vinci character and once you know, just call me at the
office, and say something like, the Mona Lisa frowned. That
means he got a message similar to yours. If the Mona Lisa
smiles, then we can figure out something else. OK?
SURE. HEY, QUESTION.
Answer.
SERIOUSLY.
I'm serious.
WHAT DO YOU THINK'S GOING ON? YOU BELIEVE IT'S HACKERS, DON'T
YOU?
bLet me ask you a question. How many surrealistic painters does
it take to screw in a lightbulb?
I GIVE. HOW MANY
A fish.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND
That's the point. Neither do I. Yet. But you can help. Accord-
ing to what you're saying, there may be some weirdness with
Freedom. What do you recommend so I can dig a little deeper?
Into the whole cult of hacking. And don't worry. I don't hang
sources. Besides, I think we may need each other.
HOW DO YOU MEAN?
I think you should talk to the authorities.
NO WAY
Wait. I have a friend, ex-friend, who knows about this kind of
thing, at least a little, and he might be of some help to you. I
just don't think it should go unreported. Would you talk to him?
LIVE OR MEMOREX?
He probably would want a face to face, but I can't say for sure.
FORGET IT. BUT I CAN HELP YOU WITH MORE SOURCES. AT LEAST I CAN
TELL YOU WHERE TO GO.
So can a lot of people.
REALLY. NEXT WEEK, THERE'S A CONVENTION OF SORTS FOR HACKERS.
A convention?
WELL, IT'S MORE LIKE AN UNDERGROUND MEETING, A LARGE ONE. WHERE
HACKERS FROM ALL OVER GET TOGETHER AND COMPARE NOTES. IT'S A
GREAT DEAL OF FUN, AND FOR YOU, MIGHT BE A SOURCE OF LEADS.
GENERALLY SPEAKING OF COURSE. YOU CAN'T BE A BULL IN A CHINA
SHOP.
In other words, reporters are taboo.
KIND OF. YOU'LL NEED AN INVITATION, I CAN PROBABLY SWING THAT.
BEYOND THAT, YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN. IT'S A VERY PRIVATE CLUB.
Where is this meeting?
IN AMSTERDAM.
Holland?
YUP.
Why there?
SIN CITY IS AS GOOD FOR HACKERS AS IT IS FOR DRUGS AND SEX. SO
I'M TOLD. HA HA. THE POLICE DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU DO.
What goes on?
BESIDES THE USUAL AMSTERDAM ANTICS? A COUPLE OF HUNDRED OF THE
BEST HACKERS IN THE WORLD SHOW UP TO OSTENSIBLY SET CODES OF
ETHICS FOR THEMSELVES, JUST LIKE FREEDOM DOES. IN REALITY,
THOUGH, WE STROKE OUR EGOS AND PARADE AROUND WITH OUR LATEST
CLAIMS TO FAME AND INVASIONS OF COMPUTERS. WAR STORIES OF THE
PREVIOUS YEAR. NEW CRACKING AND HACKING TECHNIQUES ARE SHARED,
PEOPLE LIE TO EACH OTHER ABOUT THEIR ACHIEVEMENTS AND TALK ABOUT
WHAT THEY WILL ACCOMPLISH IN THE NEXT YEAR. PROGRAMASTERBATION.
Some name. Is that really what they call it?
NAH, JUST A TERM WE USE. I WENT LAST YEAR AND HAD A BALL, LITER-
ALLY. IN FACT, THAT'S WHERE I LEARNED HOW TO GET INTO FIRST
STATE. IT WAS SECOND RATE INFORMATION, FIRST STATE IS NOT EXACT-
LY YOUR HIGH PROFILE BANK TO CRACK.
Understood. How do I get in, what's it called?
IT'S CALLED THE INTERGALACTIC HACKERS CONFERENCE, I-HACK FOR
SHORT. ONLY THE BEST GET TO GO.
You're kidding. So what do you do to get me in?
I CALL YOU AGAIN. LEAVE YOUR BOX ON. I'LL GET YOU AN INVITE.
That's great, I really appreciate that. Will you be there?
NOT THIS YEAR. CAN'T SPARE THE TIME. DON'T ACT LIKE A REPORTER.
PARANOIA RUNS RAMPANT.
Will anyone talk to me, as a reporter?
THAT'S UP TO YOU. ASK THE RIGHT QUESTIONS AND SHOW SYMPATHY FOR
THEIR ACTIVITIES. IF YOU'RE LUCKY YOU'LL MEET THE RIGHT PERSON
WHO CAN GIVE YOU A HANDS ON CRACKING LESSON. FAIR ENOUGH?
Again, thanks. I'll expect your call. And, I'll let you know
what my Fed-Friend says about your problem.
TA.
<<<<<<CONNECTION TERMINATED>>>>>><EIO>
* * * * *
Tuesday, December 8
Vienna, Austria
Vienna is not only the geographic center of Europe - for 45 years
it has been the geopolitical center as well. A neutral country,
as is Switzerland, it contains the highest concentration of KGB
and CIA operatives in the world. Perhaps that is why Martin
Templer chose to meet Alex Spiradon there a week after his meet-
ing with Tyrone Duncan at P Street.
Situated by the Danube of Strauss fame, Vienna, Austria is an odd
mixture of the old, the very old and nouveau European high tech.
Downtown Vienna is small, a semi-circle of cobblestone streets
and brash illuminated billboards at every juncture.
Templer contacted Alex through intermediaries stationed in Zu-
rich. The agreed upon location was the third bench from St.
Stephen's Cathedral on the Stephansplatz, where Vienna's main
street, Karntnerstrasse-Rotenturmstrasse changes names. No
traffic is allowed on the square, on Kartnerstrasse or on Graben-
strasse, so it is always packed with shoppers, tourists and
street musicians. Ideal for a discreet meeting.
"Have you ever seen Vienna from Old Steffel?" A deep voice came
from behind where Martin was seated. He looked around and saw
it was Alex.
"Many years ago. But I prefer the Prater." He spoke of the
fairgrounds 2 kilometers from town where the world's oldest
Ferris Wheel offered an unparalleled view of the Viennese sur-
rounds. Templer smiled at his old ally from the German Bunde-
poste. Today though, Alex was an asset to the Agency, as he had
been since he had gone freelance some years ago. An expensive
asset, but always with quality information.
"Did you know that St. Stephen's," Alex gestured at the pollu-
tion stained church, "is one of the finest examples of Gothic
architecture in Europe? And Vienna's paradox?"
Templer had never been a history buff. He shook his head.
"Most of Vienna is Baroque, in fine fashion, but there are iso-
lated examples of Gothic. Yet, they seem to coexist. In peace."
Alex's poetic words rolled off of his well educated tongue. The
allegory was not lost on Templer. Western and Eastern intelli-
gence services used Vienna as a no-man's land, where information
and people were regularly exchanged.
"It is a new world," commented Templer. "The threats are differ-
ent."
Alex took the hint. "Let us walk," he urged.
They slowly strolled up the Kartnerstrasse as the Austrian night-
life took on its own distinct flavor.
"How long has it been, my friend?" Alex casually asked. He
disliked rushing into business, the way the Americans favored.
"Damned if I know. 4, 5, 6 years? Too long. We've had some
good times."
"'85, '86 was it? So much travel blurs the senses." Alex wrin-
kled his forehead in thought. "Wasn't it the Pelton affair?
Yes, that would be summer of '85." He referred to Ron Pelton,
the ex-NSA analyst who sold American cryptographic secrets to
the Soviets.
"Yeah," Templer laughed. "That poor jerk. I'd forgotten all
about that. Never would have caught on to the scam if it weren't
for Slovnov. The KGB should tell their own to stay out of the
Moulin Rouge. Not good for business. Ivan had to trade Slovnov
for Pelton. We didn't find out for a year that they wanted
Pelton out anyway. He was too fucked up for them."
"And now? Who do you spy on since Sam and Ivan are brothers
again?" Alex openly enjoyed speaking obliquely.
"Spy? Ha!" Templer shook his head. "I got pushed upstairs.
Interagency cooperation, political bullshit. I do miss the
streets though, and the friends . . .on both sides."
"Don't you mean on all sides?" Cocktail semantics made Alex
occasionally annoying.
"No, I mean both. At least we had class; we knew the rules and
how to play. Now every third rate country tries to stick their
nose in and they screw it up. One big mess." Templer had been a
staunch anti-Communist when there were Communists, but he re-
spected their agents' highly professional attitude, and yes,
ethics.
"Touch
! I have missed our talks and our disagreements. I never
could talk you into something you did not believe in, could I?"
Alex slapped Templer lightly on his back. Templer didn't answer.
"Ah, you look so serious. You came for business, not old memo-
ries?"
"No, Alex, I'd love to chat, and we will, but I do need to get a
couple of questions answered, and then, I can relax. Perhaps a
trip to Club 24?" Templer pointed at the bright yellow kiosk
with the silhouettes of naked women emblazoned on it. For a mere
$300, you can buy a bottle of Chevas Regal and share it with one
or two or more of the lovely skimpily clad ladies who adorned
the bar seats. All else was negotiable in private.
"Done. Let us speak, now. What can I do for you?" Alex ap-
proved of the plan.
"I need some information," Templer said seriously.
"That is my business, of course."
"We have a problem in the States . . ."
"As usual," Alex interrupted.
"Yes," Templer grinned, "as usual. But this one is not usual.
Someone, someone with connections, is apparently using computers
as a blackmail tool. The FBI is investigating domestically, and,
well, it's our job, to look outside. So, I figure, call Alex.
That's why I'm here."
Alex disguised his surprise. How had they found him? He now
needed to find out what, if anything, they knew.
"Blackmail? Computers? That's not a lot to go on." Alex main-
tained absolute composure.
"Here's what we know. And it's not much. There appears to be a
wholesale blackmail operation in place. With the number of com-
plaints we have gotten over the last few months, we could guess
that maybe 10, or 20 people, maybe more are involved. They're
after the big boys; the banks, some senators, folks with real
money and power. And it's one professional job. They seem to
get their information from computers, from the radiation they
emanate. It's something we really want to keep quiet."
Alex listened quietly. If Templer was being straight, they
didn't know much, certainly not the scope of the operation nor
Alex's own involvement. It was possible, though, that Templer
was playing dumb, and trying to elicit clues from Alex. If he
was a suspect.
"What sort of demands are being made?" Alex was going to play
the game to the hilt.
"None. Yet."
"After 2 months? You say? And no demands? What kind of black-
mail is that?" Alex ineffectively stifled a laugh. "This
sounds like some Washington paranoia. "You really don't know
what to do without an adversary, so you create one," Alex chuck-
led.
"Alex, c'mon. No shit, we got some muckity mucks with their
heads in a tail spin and our asses in a sling. I don't know
what's happening, but, whatever it is, it's causing a pile of
shit bigger than Congress and smellier."
"And you thought I might know something about it?" Alex ven-
tured.
"Well, no, or yes, or maybe," Templer said coyly. "Who's got a
grudge? Against so many people? And then, who's also got the
technology to do it. There must be a lot of smart people and
money in on it. You have the best ears in Europe." The compli-
ment might help.
"Thank you for the over-statement, but I have only a small group
on whom I can rely. Certainly your own agency can find out
before I can." Deniability and humility could raise the ante.
"We have our good days, but too many bad days." Templer was being
sincere concluded Alex. "Listen, I need the streets. If there's
nothing, then there's nothing. It could be domestic, but it
smells of outside influence. Can you help?"
Alex stopped to light up a non-filtr Gaulloise. He inhaled
deeply as his eyes scanned the clear sky. He wanted to have
Templer think there might be something.
"How much is this information worth?" Alex was the perfect
mercenary, absolutely no allegiance to anyone other than himself.
"We have about fifty grand for good info. But for that price, it
had better be good."
Alex had to laugh to himself at the American's naivete. Homosoto
was paying him a hundred times that for one job. Being a free-
lancer means treating all customers as equals, and there was no
way he would jeopardize his planned retirement for a cause or for
a friend. This would be easy.
"Phew!" Alex whistled. "Hot off the griddle, huh? I'll see who
knows what. It may take a while, a week, ten days, but I'll get
back to you with anything I find. No promises, though."
"I know it's a long shot, but we have to look at all angles. I
really appreciate it." Templer sounded relieved. He had just
recruited, for no money down, the best source of information in
Europe. "Let's go have a bottle of Chevas. On me." The Ameri-
can taxpayer was about to pay for the sexual relief of a merce-
nary enemy.
Alex made it home at 4:00 A.M. after the romp in Club 24. Or was
it Club 1? He no longer knew, no cared. Despite his intense
intoxication, he had to talk to his employer. Somehow he managed
to get his computer alive. He dialed the number in Tokyo, not
knowing whether Homosoto would be in the office.
ENTER PASSWORD
ENTER CRYPT KEY
He responded to both, nearly blinded from the Chevas, yet his
professionalism demanded that he make immediate contact if possi-
ble.
<<<<<<CONNECTION>>>>>>
Alex missed the message for several seconds before forcing him-
self alert. He quickly entered his opening words before the
connection would shut down.
I have been contacted.
Homosoto apparently never went home. He got an immediate re-
sponse.
BY WHOM
The CIA
The screen paused for several seconds. Alex was too drunk to
notice.
HOW?
An old frrrriend. He called for a meeeeeeting.
WHAT DID HE WANT?
He asked about the US operations.
HOW MUCH DOES HE KNOW?
They kkknnow about the blackmail. But, they're
fishing
FISH
Looking for answers. They know nothing.
TELL ME MORE. I AM NOT HAPPY.
The FBI is looking for an answer, who is behind the propaganda.
They think it is very important, take it seriously. They brought
in the CIA and, probably, the NSA. The effect is beginning. We
should be pleased.
AND THE PRESS? IS IT IN THE PAPERS?
No, it was suppressed. The Government still controls the press.
AND YOU. WHY CONTACT YOU?
The same reason you did. It is pure coincidence.
I AM NOT CONVINCED.
An old friend, a colleague, called for a meeting. He asked for
my help. He tried to hire me to find out if it was foreign.
WHAT DID YOU SAY?
I told him the streets, the rumors, know nothing. That is true.
He never suspected me. I was surprised. He offered me money to
give him information.
HOW MUCH MONEY?
$50,000 US
I PAY YOU A THOUSAND TIMES THAT
No, only 100 times.
DOES IT MATTER?
Only if they equal your money.
MAKE SURE THEY DO NOT. IT IS NOT WORTH YOUR LIFE.
The CIA does not have that kind of money. That is why the Rus-
sians learned so much for so little. The US does not think they
should pay to keep their secrets.
THEY ARE WRONG. WE CALL IT INSURANCE.
They call it blackmail. They do not have the funds.
WHAT WILL YOU TELL THEM?
I will tell them that it is not from here. No, it must be from
the US. They will believe me. I will charge them for that
information.
AND THEY WILL BELIEVE YOU?
If I make them pay, yes. If I give it for free, no. That's the
American way. They will believe what is easiest to believe.
They do not know that this is my last job. They cannot know. If
they think that, they will suspect me. And then, you.
WHY ME?
They will use drugs I cannot resist. So, I must make sure I help
them.
AND IF THEY OFFER MONEY. AS MUCH AS I DO?
Then we negotiate.
THEN YOU WILL DIE.
<<<<<<CONNECTION TERMINATED>>>>>>
****************************************************************