Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
KENSINGTON, TEXAS
Kevin Mitnick, who pioneered the technique of tricking employees into helping him steal software and services from big phone and tech companies in the ‘80s and ‘90s, making him the first hacker to ever appear on the FBI’s Most Wanted List, died last year at the age of 59 of pancreatic cancer.
However, many question the relevance of his teachings in light of today’s more damaging technical payoffs, such as Ransomware. CEO Leanne Miles, Castor Industries, a staunch Mitnick opponent, was quoted as saying, “Attend DefCon and you’ll see firsthand the lessons Mitnick taught still apply today. He only wrote the first chapter of a very detailed playbook. My problem is I hate that the book even exists.”
—InfoSec Gov News
I shove the keyboard away from me in frustration. “We’ve tried everything!”
Sam’s snaps at me. “We haven’t, or we’d have cracked the code.”
“Well, what do you want to do? Call up Devil’s Lair and ask them for their fucking passcode?”
There’s a pregnant pause before, “That’s not a half bad idea, actually.”
“Sam? Did your wife talk to you in too many languages this morning?” Sam’s wife, Iris, is the lead translator for the Secretary General at the United Nations.
“No. Kevin Mitnick.”
“Black hat. First hacker to be on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. Dead.”
Sam interrupts the bare bones statistics I’m reciting about the son of a bitch who persistently hacked some of the largest tech companies of his time. “Think about how he did it, Ethan. Why was Mitnick so successful?”
I pause. “Social engineering. He charmed his way into gathering the information he needed.”
Sam’s excitement is palpable. “Exactly. So, how do you think we get inside a place called Devil’s Lair?”
“We give them what they want.”
“Which is?”
“Money. They want to be paid.”
“By the damn minute,” Sam confirms.
Immediately, my mind starts piecing together possibilities. “How many of those individuals do you think actually enjoy their jobs, Sam?”
“No telling, why?”
I immediately begin typing. A few minutes later, I share my screen so Sam can view the phishing exercise I’m crafting. After a few seconds he demands, “Now why weren’t you this smart when we were working together the first time we met?”
“Give me a fucking break, Sam. I was eighteen when I joined the navy. I’m now forty-three. I’ve learned a hell of a lot in the years in between.”
“Still, this kind of coding is shit hot. It might even impress Leanne. Maybe you can ask her for a job when it’s all over.”
“Fuck off, Sam,” I grumble.
“Kidding, but I’m kind of not.”
“Give me one second…I just have to…right there.” Now that my hands have been lifted off the keyboard, I can’t help but smirk. “The email’s ready. We’ll get a copy of each one when it goes out so we’ll have the email addresses they go to.”
“Good. Let me get the background to substantiate it.” In a matter of minutes, between the two of us, we’ve stood up a site on the dark web very reminiscent of Devil’s Lair. The hosting name boasts of a ridiculous number of made-up visitors.
By the time Leanne joins us after a meeting she has at Castor, we’re ready to cast our net. She changes her voice and gives us the green light before declaring, “I hope this works.”
I chuckle darkly. “Whoever falls into this trap deserves to.”
I press send and the email bounces off the back end of Devil’s Lair’s website. For a second, just a second, I hold my breath—praying my coding goes through. Then, my elbow jerks back and I hiss, “Yes,” before realizing emails are coming back to me. “Holy shit. Over two hundred people work there? Why would people demean themselves to work for a phone sex hotline?”
That’s when Leanne verbally slaps me from thousands of miles away. “Why? Who knows. But I’ll bet you one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“At least one person working there is doing so because of love. And I know better than anyone that love will drive a person to do desperate things.”