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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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.

< >

Pause . . . < > Pause . . . < >

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

* * * * *

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

* * * * *

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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.

<<<<< >>>>>

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