The first, most clearly stated by Shimomura and Markoff themselves in their book Takedown, is that Mitnick was an evil, "dark side" hacker, with unsavory international connections and a bag of tricks that was a threat to the Internet. In this version of events, Mitnick was rightly "taken down" by a superior intellect who was working for the forces of good and the American way.
WHERE DOES THE TRUTH
ANSWER: "I believe he left his system(s) open intentionally to attract potential attackers -- leaving him with the option of following the attackers or learning from any of the few interesting techniques he might find," says Capt. Kevin J. Ziese, chief of Countermeasures Development with the U.S. Air Forceís Information Warfare Center in San Antonio, Texas.
Although the Christmas Day attack on Shimomuraís computer was based on a technique called "IP Spoofing" that had never been seen outside a laboratory environment, the attack would not have succeeded if Shimomuraís computers had been protected with some basic computer security systems such as Kerberos, S/Key or SecureID. Two programs were apparently stolen. The first, according to privacy activist John Gilmore, was a new version of the Berkeley Packet Filter for the U.S. military. The new filter was designed to be as stealthy as possible on a UNIX system: Hidden deep in the kernel, it could pick up packets from the ínet and send them to any other computer on the network. This filter could run at an astounding rate of more than 100,000 packets per second; impressive, considering that few networks transmit more than a few dozen packets per second. "This tool is custom-designed for evil," wrote Gilmore on a post to the infamous cypherpunks mailing list.
"Maybe in wartime the Air Force will want to inflict evil on an opponent. Or maybe instead theyíll pass it to a latter-day J. Edgar Hoover. Either way, itís evil," Gilmore noted. The second program was software designed to reverse-engineer Shimomuraís Oki 900 cellular telephone. The software, co-developed by Shimomura and Bay Area hacker Mark Lottor, could turn a phone into a cellular scanner. By some readings of the Electronic Communications Privacy Act, mere possession of this software is a crime. According to Takedown, Mitnick allegedly wanted the software because he thought he could use it to make a cellular phone that couldnít be traced.
ANSWER: It depends on who you are. "Kevin Mitnick was systematically attacking the machines belonging to Internet computer security experts (Dan Framer, Eric Allman, Shimomura etc.) looking for non-public security flaws and sharing them with a loosely connected group of computer outlaws," Markoff wrote me in an e-mail message. "To my mind, he was a public menace who was doing more to damage personal privacy and security in the information age than almost anything I can think of."
On the other hand, if you werenít a computer security expert or a New York Times reporter, then Mitnick was not such an obvious threat. Yes, itís true that he had a database of 20,000 credit cards. On the other hand, thereís no proof that he ever actually used any of them. Furthermore, thereís no proof that Mitnick is even the first hacker to swipe them. Emmanuel Goldstein, editor of the hacker quarterly 2600, says that the infamous list of 20,000 credit cards, allegedly stolen from Netcom Communications, had actually been circling around cyberspace for more than a year prior to Mitnickís arrest.
In The Fugitive Game, Littman paints a decidedly more sympathetic view of Mitnick. One reason he did so, we are told, is that he did not rely on Markoffís press accounts of Mitnickís past exploits. Instead, he tried to verify them and in many cases failed. For example, says Littman, there is no evidence to indicate that Mitnick ever broke into the U.S. militaryís computers at NORAD, the North American Aerospace Defense Command computer, even though this supposed stunt is now reported as truth and was even used as the basis for the movie War Games. Transcripts that are published in Takedown (and available on Shimomuraís Web site, http://www.takedown.com/) make it clear that it was a hacker in Israel who was the brains behind Mitnickís attacks. There isnít even any proof that ties Mitnick to the Christmas Day attack on Shimomuraís machine. On the other hand, in The Fugitive Game, Littman makes it very clear that Mitnick had detailed, inside knowledge of the attack shortly after it took place. If Mitnick wasnít the perpetrator, he was definitely close to the source.
ANSWER: Thatís Shimomuraís Web site, built for the dual purpose of publicizing his book and telling the world his version of the "facts."
Probe further, and youíll learn that Shimomuraís Web site gets its network service from Shimomuraís erstwhile employer, San Diego Supercomputing Center. Now, you may wonder what a Web site advertising a book (and soon-to-be major motion picture) is doing getting its network service from a federally funded lab. Ann Redelfs, a spokesperson for the lab, says that she doesnít know if Shimomuraís use of lab resources for personal gain violates any rules. Neither does the federal governmentís Inspector General office, although the IG did take an interest in the matter when Internet Underground telephoned asking for an opinion.
Ironically, Shimomuraís Web site has been hacked several times. In February, the site was literally taken down, when a computer hacker submitted a fraudulent domain modification request to Network Solutions Inc., the company that runs the Internetís domain servers. A few weeks later, some hacker broke into the site of the noted security expert and changed the computerís mailer banner so that it read: 220 www4.takedown.com ESMTP Sendwhale 8.7.3/Takedown-1 [KDM was here] ready at Thu, 15 Feb 1996 18:25:13 -0800 (PST) So much for computer security, eh?
ANSWER: Perhaps because that title would have been a little too close to the truth. According to Goodell, Shimomura and Markoff had actually considered putting together a trap for Mitnick in October 1994, two months before the Christmas Day break-in. "Shimomura and [SDSCís network manager] had planned a Cuckooís Egg kind of sting," says Goodell, referring to Cliff Stollís best-selling book. "They were going to do the same thing. They even contacted Kathleen Cunningham at the U.S. Marshallís Office and offered their help."
ANSWER: Eric Corley thinks so. In the attention-grabbing opening scene of Takedown, Shimomura, Markoff and a Sprint Cellular engineer sit in a van with listening equipment, homing in on the elusive Mitnick by tracing the signals from his cellular telephone, listening to Mitnickís calls in the process. Nearly 300 pages later, when the scene is repeated, Shimomura quotes Markoff as saying, "I recognize that voice! Thatís Eric Corley!"
Corley, better known as Emmanuel Goldstein, is the editor of the quarterly hacker magazine 2600. Heís upset that Markoff and Shimomura listened in on his conversation -- and angry that the conversation itself is reported in their book. "I feel that they violated my privacy," says Corley. Corley is no fan of the Electronic Communications Privacy Act, the law which prohibits the tapping of cellular telephone calls. Nevertheless, he says, the law specifically forbids tapping people without a warrant and the public release of information obtained from a wiretap.
Now, it turns out that the FBI had a wiretap order for Mitnick. But did that order cover Markoff? That depends on whether Markoff was sitting in the van as a "Kevin expert," working on behalf of the FBI, or whether he was there as a reporter for The New York Times. "To the best of my knowledge, John Markoff did not do anything illegal. His role in the investigation was as a source of information about Kevin Mitnick," says John Ken Walker, Jr., a former Assistant U.S. Attorney who worked on the case.
But Markoff demurs. "I was in the truck as a New York Times reporter and I had identified myself as such," says Markoff, who adds that the ECPA did not apply to the Mitnick/Corley conversation, because Mitnick was using stolen codes. "The phone call was a fraudulent call being made with a stolen cellular phone number. As such it wasnít protected," says Markoff.
Caught somewhere in the middle of all of this is Sprint Cellular. "I did speak with one of the technicians and the technicianís supervisor," says Sal Cinquegrani, a spokesperson for Sprint Cellular. "We did receive the court order. We were told we were to meet a computer expert. That turned out to be Shimomura. Later some of the local FBI agents met [Sprintís technicians at] the mobile switching center. Subsequent to that is when Mr. Markoff appeared on the scene. Because there was a lot of interaction between Shimomura and Markoff and others, the assumption was that they all knew each other and worked together. Afterward we learned that he was a reporter. We learned it at the same time that the agents did. The agents requested that Mr. Markoff leave because they were getting into some sensitive areas of the investigation, and Mr. Markoff did in fact leave."
Markoff has taken a lot of flak in the press for his back-seat view of the chase and capture. The truth, though, is that there isnít a journalist alive who wouldnít have gladly traded places with him. Anybody who says otherwise just has a bad case of sour grapes.
ANSWER: According to The Times, Markoff didnít have any ethical lapses because he took a leave of absence from The Times to write the book with Shimomura.
"As for our conflict-of-interest policy, John Markoff followed the necessary requirements of the policy and received prior permission from The Times before he signed a contract to write a book," says Nancy Nielsen, vice president for Corporate Communications of The New York Times Company.
One of the reasons that Markoffís journalistic ethics have been subject to such scrutiny is that he, Shimomura and The New York Times itself have done such a poor job responding to the criticism. For example, although Nielsen says that Markoff followed The Timesí conflict-of-interest policy, she and her office refused more than seven formal requests to provide a copy of that policy to Internet Underground. Markoff has said on numerous occasions that his "editors" approved of his writing Takedown. How does that look when it is revealed that Markoffís editor, Tim Race, was flown to San Francisco during the summer of 1995 and compensated for his role in editing the Takedown manuscript? (Only upon further questioning does one learn that the project was approved not by Race, but by a Times assistant managing editor.)
Markoff, meanwhile, questions why everyone is ignoring Littmanís supposed ethical lapse: not telling The Well that it was the subject of a break-in, when Littman knew that Mitnick was running wild on the Internet service. In The Fugitive Game, Littman does say that he called The Well and told them that a hacker had broken in but the person that he spoke to refused to believe the report.