The Art of Deception: Controlling the Human Element of Security (40 page)

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Authors: Kevin D. Mitnick,William L. Simon,Steve Wozniak

Tags: #Computer Hackers, #Computer Security, #Electronic Books, #Computer Networks, #Computers, #Information Management, #Data Protection, #General, #Social Aspects, #Information Technology, #Internal Security, #Security, #Business & Economics, #Computer Science

BOOK: The Art of Deception: Controlling the Human Element of Security
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[Chapter 1 -Banned Edition] Kevin's Story By Kevin Mitnick

I was reluctant to write this section because I was sure it would sound self- serving. Well, okay, it is self-serving. But I've been contacted by literally hundreds of people who want to know "who is Kevin Mitnick?". For those who don't give a damn, please turn to Chapter 2. For everybody else, here, for what it's worth, is my story.

Kevin Speaks Some hackers destroy people's files or entire bard drives; they're called crackers or vandals. Some novice hackers don't bother learning the technology, but simply download hacker tools to break into computer systems; they're called script kiddies. More experienced hackers with programming skills develop hacker programs and post them to the Web and to bulletin board systems. And then there are individuals who have no interest in the technology, but use the computer merely as a tool to aid them in stealing money, goods, or services. Despite the media-created myth of Kevin Mitnick, I'm not a malicious hacker. What I did wasn't even against the law when I began, but became a crime after new legislation was passed. I continued anyway, and was caught. My treatment by the federal government was based not on the crimes, but on making an example of me. I did not deserve to be treated like a terrorist or violent criminal: Having my residence searched with a blank search warrant; being thrown into solitary for months; denied the fundamental Constitutional rights guaranteed to anyone accused of a crime; being denied not only bail but a bail hearing; and being forced to spend years fighting to obtain the government's evidence so my court appointed attorney could prepare my defense.

What about my right to a speedy trial? For years I was given a choice every six months: sign a paper waiving your Constitutional right to a speedy trial or go to trial with an attorney who is unprepared; I chose to sign. But I'm getting ahead of my story. Starting Out my path was probably set early in life. I was a happy-go- lucky kid, but bored. After my father split when I was three, my mother worked as a waitress to support us. To see me then an only child being raised by a mother who put in long, harried days on a sometimes-erratic schedule would have been to see a youngster on his own almost all his waking hours. I was my own babysitter. Growing up in a San Fernando Valley community gave me the whole of Los Angeles to explore, and by the age of twelve I had discovered a way to travel free throughout the whole greater L.A. area. I realized one day while riding the bus that the security of the bus transfer I had purchased relied on the unusual pattern of the paper-punch that the drivers used to mark day, time and route on the transfer slips. A friendly driver, answering my carefully-planted question, told me where to buy that special type of punch. The transfers are meant to let you change buses and continue a journey to your destination, but I worked out how to use them to travel anywhere I wanted to go for free. Obtaining blank transfers was a walk in the park: the trash bins at the bus terminals were always filled with only-partly-used books of transfers that the drivers tossed away at the end of their shifts. With a pad of blanks and the punch, I could mark my own transfers and travel anywhere that L.A. buses went. Before long, I had all but memorized the bus schedules of the entire system. This was an early example of my surprising memory for certain types of information; still, today I can remember phone numbers, passwords and other items as far back as my childhood. Another personal interest that surfaced at an early age was my fascination with performing magic. Once I learned how a new trick worked, I would practice, practice, and practice until I mastered it. To an extent, it was through magic that I discovered the enjoyment in fooling people. From Phone Phreak, to Hacker my first encounter with what I would eventually learn to call social engineering came about during my high school years, when I met another student who was caught up in a hobby called phone phreaking. Phone phreaking is a type of hacking that allows you to explore the telephone network by exploiting the phone systems and phone company employees. He showed me neat tricks he could do with a telephone, like obtaining any information the phone company had on any customer, and using a secret test number to make long-distances calls for free actually free only to us--I found out much later that it wasn't a secret test number at all: the calls were in fact being billed to some poor company's MCI account). That was my introduction to social engineering-my kindergarten, so to speak. He and another phone phreaker I met shortly thereafter let me listen in as they each made pretext calls to the phone company. I heard the things they said that made them sound believable, I learned about different phone company offices, lingo and procedures. But that "training" didn't last long; it didn't have to. Soon I was doing it all on my own, learning as I went, doing it even better than those first teachers. The course my life would follow for the next fifteen years had been set.

One of my all-time favorite pranks was gaining unauthorized access to the telephone switch and changing the class of service of a fellow phone phreak. When he'd attempt to make a call from home, he'd get a message telling him to deposit a dime, because the telephone company switch received input that indicated he was calling from a pay phone.

I became absorbed in everything about telephones-not only the electronics, switches, and computers; but also the corporate organization, the procedures, and the terminology. After a while, I probably knew more about the phone system than any single employee.

And, I had developed my social engineering skills to the point that, at seventeen years old, I was able to talk most Telco employees into almost anything, whether I was speaking with them in person or by telephone. My hacking career started when I was in high school. Back then we used the term hacker to mean a person who spent a great deal of time tinkering with hardware and software, either to develop more efficient programs or to bypass unnecessary steps and get the job done more quickly. The term has now become a pejorative, carrying the meaning of "malicious criminal." In these pages I use the term the way I have always used it in its earlier, more benign sense. In late 1979, a group of fellow hacker types who worked for the Los Angeles Unified School District dared me to try hacking into The Ark, the computer system at Digital Equipment Corporation used for developing their RSTS/E operating system software. I wanted to be accepted by the guys in this hacker group so I could pick their brains to learn more about operating systems. These new "friends" had managed to get their hands on the dial-up number to the DEC computer system. But they knew the dial-up number wouldn't do me any good: Without an account name and password, I'd never be able to get in. They were about to find out that when you underestimate others, it can come back to bite you in the butt. It turned out that, for me, even at that young age, hacking into the DEC system was a pushover. Claiming to be Anton Chernoff, one of the project's lead developers, I placed a simple phone call to the system manager. I claimed I couldn't log into one of "my" accounts, and was convincing enough to talk the guy into giving me accessing and allowing me to select a password of my choice. As an extra level of protection, whenever anyone dialed into the development system, the user also had to provide a dial-up password. The system administrator told me the password. It was "buffoon," which I guess described what he must have felt like later on, when lie found out what had happened. In less than five minutes, I had gained access to Digital's RSTE/E development system. And I wasn't logged on as just as an ordinary user, but as someone with all the privileges of a system developer. At first my new, so-called friends refused to believe I had gained access to The Ark. One of them dialed up the system and shoved the keyboard in front of me with a challenging look on his face. His mouth dropped open as I matter-of-factly logged into a privileged account. I found out later that they went off to another location and, the same day, started downloading source-code components of the DEC operating system. And then it was my turn to be floored. After they had downloaded all the software they wanted, they called the corporate security department at DEC and told them someone had hacked into the company's corporate network. And they gave my name. My so-called friends first used my access to copy highly sensitive source code, and then turned me in.

There was a lesson here, but not one I managed to learn easily. Through the years to come, I would repeatedly get into trouble because I trusted people who I thought were my friends. After high school I studied computers at the Computer Learning Center in Los Angeles.

Within a few months, the school's computer manager realized I had found a vulnerability in the operating system and gained full administrative privileges on their IBM minicomputer. The best computer experts on their teaching staff couldn't figure out how I had done this. In what may have been one of the earliest examples of "hire the hacker," I was given an offer I couldn't refuse: Do an honors project to enhance the school's computer security, or face suspension for hacking the system. Of course I chose to do the honors project, and ended up graduating Cum Laude with Honors. Becoming a Social Engineer some people get out of bed each morning dreading their daily work routine at the proverbial salt mines. I've been lucky enough to enjoy my work. In particular you can't imagine the challenge, reward, and pleasure I had in the time I spent as a private investigator. I was honing my talents in the performance art called social engineering-getting people to do things they wouldn't ordinarily do for a stranger- and being paid for it. For me it wasn't difficult becoming proficient in social engineering. My father's side of the family had been in the sales field for generations, so the art of influence and persuasion might have been an inherited trait. When you combine an inclination for deceiving people with the talents of influence and persuasion you arrive at the profile of a social engineer. You might say there are two specialties within the job classification of con artist. Somebody who swindles and cheats people out of their money belongs to one sub-specialty, the grifter. Somebody who uses deception, influence, and persuasion against businesses, usually targeting their information, belongs to the other sub-specialty, the social engineer. From the time of my bus transfer trick, when I was too young to know there was anything wrong with what I was doing, I had begun to recognize a talent for finding out the secrets I wasn't supposed to have. I built on that talent by using deception, knowing the lingo, and developing a well-honed skill of manipulation.

One way I used to work on developing the skills in my craft (if I may call it a craft) was to pick out some piece of information I didn't really care about and see if I could talk somebody on the other end of the phone into providing it, just to improve my talents. In the same way I used to practice my magic tricks, I practiced pretexting. Through these rehearsals, I soon found I could acquire virtually any information I targeted. In Congressional testimony before Senators Lieberman and Thompson years later, I told them, "I have gained unauthorized access to computer systems at some of the largest corporations on the planet, and have successfully penetrated some of the most resilient computer systems ever developed. I have used both technical and non-technical means to obtain the source code to various operating systems and telecommunications devices to study their vulnerabilities and their inner workings." All of this was really to satisfy my own curiosity, see what I could do, and find out secret information about operating systems, cell phones, and anything else that stirred my curiosity. The train of events that would change my life started when I became the subject of a July 4th, 1994 front-page, above-the-fold story in the New York Times. Overnight, that one story turned my image from a little known nuisance of a hacker into Public Enemy Number One of cyberspace. John Markoff, the Media's grifter

"Combining technical wizardry with the ages-old guile of a grifter, Kevin Mitnick is a computer programmer run amok." (The New York Times, 7/4/94.) Combining the ages-old desire to attain undeserved fortune with the power to publish false and defamatory stories about his subjects on the front page of the New York Times, John Markoff was truly a technology reporter run amok. Markoff was to earn himself over $1 million by single-handedly creating what I label "The Myth of Kevin Mitnick." He became very wealthy through the very same technique I used to compromise computer systems and networks around the world: deception. In this case however, the victim of the deception wasn't a single computer user or system administrator, it was every person who trusted the news stories published in the pages of the New York Times.Cyberspace's Most Wanted Markoff's Times article was clearly designed to land a contract for a book about my life story. I've never met Markoff, and yet he has literally become a millionaire through his libelous and defamatory "reporting" about me in the Times and in his 1991 book, Cyberpunk. In his article, he included some dozens of allegations about me that he stated as fact without citing his sources, and that even a minimal process of fact-checking (which I thought all first-rate newspapers required their reporters to do) would have revealed as being untrue or unproven. In that single false and defamatory article, Markoff labeled me as "cyberspace's most wanted," and as "one of the nation's most wanted computer criminals," without justification, reason, or supporting evidence, using no more discretion than a writer for a supermarket tabloid. In his slanderous article, Markoff falsely claimed that I had wiretapped the FBI (I hadn't); that I had broken into the computers at NORAD (which aren't even connected to any network on the outside); and that I was a computer "vandal," despite the fact that I had never intentionally damaged any computer I ever accessed. These, among other outrageous allegations, were completely false and designed to create a sense of fear about my capabilities. In yet another breach of journalistic ethics, Markoff failed to disclose in that article and in all of his subsequent articles-a pre-existing relationship with me, a personal animosity based on my having refused to participate in the book Cyberpunk In addition, I had cost him a bundle of potential revenue by refusing to renew an option for a movie based on the book. Markoff's article was also clearly designed to taunt America's law enforcement agencies.

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