textfiles/news/nighthac

NightHack : A Story about Hackers
 
The word HACKER has taken on a new meaning recently. It used tomean an avid 
computer user. But now it has taken to the likes (baically) of someone who uses  
his computer to steal, alter, or misuse online data that is not theirs. Below is 
a story obtained from a BBS and no author's name was given. But it is my 
inference from reading the story that it was written by Montana Wildhack, the 
Newsweek reporter who gained access to a hacking board, and then found himself 
being harassed by hackers all over the country. (WE ARE NOT *POSITIVE* AS TO WHO 
WROTE THIS. ASSUME IT IS ANONYMOUSLY WRITTEN!). The authors story....
 
The Night of the Hackers
 
 
As you are surveying the dark and misty swamp you come across what appears to be 
a small cave.  You light a torch and enter.  You have walked several hundred 
feet when you stumble into a bright blue portal... With a sudden burst of light  
and a loud explosion you are swept into . . . DRAGONFIRE . . .  Press Any 
Key....if You Dare." 
 
You have programmed your personal computer to dial into Dragonfire, a computer 
bulletin board in Gainesville,  Texas.  But before you get any information, 
Dragonfire demands your name, home city and phone number.  So,  for tonight's 
tour of the electronic wilderness you become Montana Wildhack of San Francisco.  
 
Dragonfire, Sherwood Forest, Forbidden Zone, Blottoland, Plovernet, The Vault, 
Shadowland, PHBI and scores of other computer bulletin boards are hangouts of a  
new generation of vandals. These precocious teenagers use their electronic 
skills to play hide-and-seek with computer and telephone security forces. Many 
computer bulletin boards are perfectly legitimate: they resemble electronic 
versions of the familiar cork boards in supermarkets and school corridors, 
listing services and providing information someone out there is bound to find 
useful.  But this is a walk on the wild side, a trip into the world of 
underground bulletin boards dedicated to encouraging and making mischief. The 
phone number for these boards are as closely guarded as a psychiatrist's home 
telephone number.
 
  Some numbers are posted on underground boards; others are exchanged over the 
telephone.  A friendly hacker provided Dragonfire's number.  Hook up and you see 
a broad choice of topics offered. For Phone Phreaks -- who delight in stealing 
service from AT&T and other phone networks.
 
 Phreakenstein's Lair is a potpourri of phone numbers, access codes and 
technical information.  For computer hackers -- who dial into other people's 
computers -- Ranger's Lodge is chock-full of phone numbers and passwords for 
government, university and corporate computers.  Moving through Dragonfire's 
offerings, you can only marvel at how conversant these teen-agers are with the 
technical esoterica of today's electronic age.
 
  Obviously they have spent a great deal of time studying computers,  though 
their grammar and spelling indicate they haven't been diligent in other 
subjects. You are constantly reminded of how young they are. "Well it's that 
time of year again. School is back in session so let's get those high school 
computer phone numbers rolling in. Time to get straight A's, have perfect 
attendance (except when you've been up all night hacking school passwords), and  
messing up you worst teacher's paycheck." 
 
Forbidden Zone, in Detroit, is offering ammunition for hacker civil war -- tips  
on crashing the most popular bulletin-board software.  There also are plans for
 building black, red and blue boxes to mimic operator tones and get free phone 
service. And here are the details for "the safest and best way to make and use 
nitroglycerine," compliments of Doctor Hex, who says he got it "from my 
chemistry teacher." Flip through the "pages." You have to wonder if this 
information is accurate.  Can this really be the phone number and password for 
Taco Bell's computer?  Do these kids really have the dial-up numbers for dozens  
of university computers?
 
 
The temptation is too much. You sign off and have your computer dial the number  
for the Yale computer. Bingo -- the words Yale University appear on your screen.  
You enter the password. A menu appears. You hang up in a sweat. You are now a 
hacker.
 
Punch in another number and your modem zips off the touch tones. Here comes the  
tedious side of all of this. Bulletin boards are popular. No vacancy in Bates 
Motel (named for Anthony Perkin's creepy motel in the movie "Psycho"); the line  
is busy.  So are 221 B.  Baker Street, PHBI, Shadowland and The Vault, Caesar's  
Palace rings and connects.  This is different breed of board.  Caesar's Palace 
is a combination Phreak board and computer store in Miami. This is the place to  
learn ways to mess up a department store's anti-shoplifting system, or make free 
calls on telephones with locks on the dial. Pure capitalism accompanies such 
anarchy, Caesar's Palace is offering good deals on disc drives, software, 
computers and all sorts of hardware.  Orders are placed through electronic mail  
messages.  
 
'Tele-Trial': Bored by Caesar's Palace, you enter the number for Blottoland, the 
board operated by one of the nation's most notorious computer phreaks -- King 
Blotto. This one has been busy all night, but it's now pretty late in Cleveland.  
The phone rings and you connect.  To get past the blank screen, type the 
secondary password "S-L-I-M-E." King Blotto obliges, listing his rules: he must  
have your real name, phone number, address, occupation and interests. He will 
call and disclose the primary password, "if you belong on this board." If 
admitted, do not reveal the phone number or the secondary password, lest you 
face "tele-trial," the King warns as he dismisses you by hanging up.
 
  You expected heavy security, but this teenager's security is, as they say, 
awesome. Computers at the Defense Department and hundreds of businesses let you  
know when you've reached them. Here you need a password just to find out what 
system answered the phone.
 
  Then King Blotto asks questions and hangs up.  Professional computer-security  
experts could learn something from this kid.  He knows that ever since the 414 
computer hackers were arrested in August 1982, law-enforcement officers have 
been searching for leads on computer bulletin boards. "Do you have any ties to 
or connections with any law enforcement agency or any agency which would inform  
such a law enforcement agency of this bulletin board?" 
 
Such is the welcoming message from Plovernet, a Florida board known for its 
great hacker/phreak files.  There amid a string of valid VISA and MasterCard 
numbers are dozens of computer phone numbers and passwords.  Here you also learn 
what Blotto means by tele-trial.  "As some of you may or may not know, a session 
of the conference court was held and the Wizard was found guilty of some 
miscellaneous charges, and  sentenced to four months without bulletin  boards."  
If Wizard calls, system operators like King Blotto disconnect him. Paging 
through bulletin boards is a test of your patience. Each board has different 
commands.  Few are easy to follow, leaving you to hunt and peck your way around.  
So far you haven't had the nerve to type  "C," which summons the system operator 
for a live, computer-to-computer conversation.
 
  The time, however,has  come for you to ask a few questions of the "sysop." You 
dial a computer in Boston.  It answers and you  begin working your way 
throughout the menus. You scan a handful of dial-up numbers,  including one for  
Arpanet, the Defense Department's research computer.  Bravely tap C and in 
seconds the screen blanks and your cursor dances across the screen. Hello . . .  
What kind of computer do you have? Contact. The sysop is here. You exchange 
amenities and get "talking." How much hacking does he do?  Not much, too busy. 
Is he afraid of being busted, having his computer confiscated like the Los 
Angeles man facing criminal charges because his computer bulletin board 
contained a stolen telephone credit card  number? "Hmmmm ... No," he  replies. 
Finally,  he asks the dreaded question:  "How old are you?"  "How old are YOU,"  
you reply, stalling.  "15," he types.  Once you confess and he knows you're old  
enough to be his father, the conversation gets very  serious.  You fear each new 
question;  he probably thinks you're a cop.  But all he wants to know  is your 
choice for president.  The chat continues, until he asks, "What time is it 
there?" Just past midnight, you reply. Expletive. "it's 3:08 here," Sysop types.  
"I must be going to sleep.  I've got school tomorrow."  The cursor dances 
"*********** Thank you for Calling." The screen goes blank.  
 
Epilog:
A few weeks after this reporter submitted this article to Newsweek, he found 
that his credit had been altered, his drivers' licence revoked, and EVEN HIS 
Social Security records changed! Just in case you all might like to construe 
this as a 'Victimless' crime.  The next time a computer fouls up your billing on 
some matter, and COSTS YOU, think about it!  
                        
 
 
 
This is the follow-up to the previous article concerning the Newsweek reporter.  
It spells out SOME of the REAL dangers to ALL of us, due to this type of 
activity!  
 
 
 
         
 
The REVENGE of the Hackers
                        
 
 
In the mischievous fraternity of computer hackers, few things are prized more 
than the veil of secrecy. As NEWSWEEK San Francisco correspondent Richard Sandza 
found out after writing a story on the electronic underground's (DISPATCHES, 
Nov.  12, 198\ ability to exact revenge can be unnerving. Also severe.... 
 Sandza's report:
 
"Conference!" someone yelled as I put the phone to my ear. Then came a 
mind-piercing "beep," and suddenly my kitchen seemed full of hyperactive 
15-year-olds.  "You the guy who wrote the article in NEWSWEEK?" someone shouted  
from the depths of static, and giggles. "We're going disconnect your phone," one 
shrieked.  "We're going to blow up your house," called another. I hung up. Some  
irate readers write letters to the editor. A few call their lawyers. Hackers, 
however, use the computer and the telephone, and for more than simple comment. 
Within days, computer "bulletin boards" around the country were lit up with 
attacks on NEWSWEEK's "Montana Wildhack" (a name I took from a Kurt Vonnegut 
character), questioning  everything from my manhood to my prose style.  "Until 
we get real good revenge," said one message from Unknown Warrior, "I would like  
to suggest that everyone with an auto-l modem call Montana Butthack then hang up 
when he  answers."  Since then the hackers of America have called my home at 
least 2000 times.  My harshest critics communicate on Dragonfire, a Gainesville, 
Texas, bulletin board where I am on teletrial, a video-lynching in which a 
computer user with grievance dials the board and presses charges against the 
offending party.  Other hackers --  including the defendant --post concurrences  
or rebuttals. Despite the mealtime interruptions, all this was at most a minor 
nuisance; some was amusing, even fun.
 
  FRAUD: The fun stopped with a call from a man who identified himself only as 
Joe.  "I'm calling to warn you," he said.  When I barked back, he said, "Wait, 
I'm on your side.  Someone has broken into TRW and obtained a list of all your 
credit-card numbers, your home address, social-security number and wife's name 
and is posting it on bulletin boards around the country." He named the charge 
cards in my wallet.  
 
Credit-card numbers are a very hot commodity among some hackers.  To get one 
from a computer system and post it is the hacker equivalent of making the team.  
After hearing from Joe I visited the local office of the TRW credit bureau and 
got a copy of my credit record.  Sure enough, it showed a Nov.  13 inquiry by 
the Lenox (Mass.) Savings Bank, an institution with no reason whatever to ask 
about me.  Clearly some hacker had used Lenox's password to the TRW computers to 
get to my files (the bank has since changed the password). It wasn't long before 
I found out what was being done with my credit-card numbers, thanks to another 
friendly hacker who tipped me to Pirate 80, a bulletin board in Charleston, 
W.Va., where I found this:  "I'm  sure you guys have heard about Richard Stza or 
Montana Wildhack.  He's the guy who G