Computer Savvy, With an Attitude: 
  Young Working-Class Hackers Accused of High-Tech Crime

     By Mary B. W. Tabor with Anthony Ramirez
     July 23, 1992

     Late  into  the  night, in working-class neighborhoods around New
     York  City,  young  men with code names like Acid Phreak and Outlaw
     sat  hunched  before  their  glowing  computer  screens, exchanging
     electronic  keys  to  complex  data-processing systems. They called
     themselves  the Masters of Deception. Their mission: to prove their
     prowess in the shadowy computer underworld.

     Compulsive and competitive, they played out a cybernetic version of
     "West  Side Story," trading boasts, tapping into telephone systems,
     even   pulling  up  confidential  credit  reports  to  prove  their
     derring-do  and  taunt other hackers. Their frequent target was the
     Legion  of  Doom,  a  hacker group named after a gang of comic-book
     villains. The rivalry seemed to take on class and ethnic overtones,
     too,  as the diverse New York group defied the traditional image of
     the young suburban computer whiz.

     But  Federal  prosecutors  say  the members of M.O.D., as the group
     called itself, went far beyond harmless pranks.

     Facing Federal Charges

     On  July  16,  five  young  men identified by prosecutors as M.O.D.
     members  pleaded  not  guilty to Federal charges including breaking
     into  some  of  the  nation's  most powerful computers and stealing
     confidential  data  like  credit  reports, some of which were later
     sold  to private investigators. Prosecutors call it one of the most
     extensive thefts of computer information ever reported.

     The  indictment  says  the  men  entered  the  computer  systems of
     Southwestern  Bell, TRW Information Services and others "to enhance
     their  image  and  prestige among other computer hackers; to harass
     and intimidate rival hackers and other people they did not like; to
     obtain  telephone,  credit,  information and other services without
     paying for them; and to obtain passwords, account numbers and other
     things of value which they could sell to others."

     With  modems  that  link  their  terminals  to other computers over
     ordinary  telephone  lines, young hackers have been making mischief
     for  years. But as the nation relies more and more on vast networks
     of  powerful  computers and as personal computers become faster and
     cheaper,  the potential for trouble has soared. For example, Robert
     Tappan  Morris, a Cornell student, unleashed a program in 1988 that
     jammed several thousand computers across the country.

     A Polyglot Group

     But  the  world  of  computer hackers has been changing. Unlike the
     typical  hackers of old -- well-to-do suburban youths whose parents
     could  afford  costly  equipment  -- the Masters of Deception are a
     polyglot  representation  of blue-collar New York: black, Hispanic,
     Greek, Lithuanian and Italian. They work their mischief often using
     the least expensive computers.

     One  of  the  young men, 21-year-old John Lee, who goes by the name
     Corrupt,  has  dreadlocks  chopped  back  into stubby "twists," and
     lives    with    his   mother   in   a   dilapidated   walk-up   in
     Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. He bounced around programs for gifted
     students  before dropping out of school in the 11th grade. Scorpion
     --  22-year-old Paul Stira of Queens -- was his class valedictorian
     at  Thomas  A.  Edison  High  School  in  Queens.  Outlaw  -- Julio
     Fernandez,  18,  of  the  Bronx -- first studied computers in grade
     school.

     They  met  not  on street corners, but via computer bulletin boards
     used to swap messages and programs.

     With  nothing to identify them on the boards except their nicknames
     and  uncanny  abilities, the young men found the computer the great
     democratic leveler.

     Questions of Profit

     There  may  be another difference in the new wave of hackers. While
     the  traditional hacker ethic forbids cruising computer systems for
     profit,  some  new  hackers  are  less  idealistic. "People who say
     that,"  said one former hacker, a friend of the M.O.D. who insisted
     on  anonymity,  "must  have rich parents. When you get something of
     value, you've got to make money."

     Mr.  Lee,  Mr.  Fernandez,  Mr.  Stira  and two others described as
     M.O.D.  members  --  20-year-old  Mark  Abene  (Phiber  Optik), and
     22-year-old  Elias Ladopoulos (Acid Phreak), both of Queens -- were
     charged with crimes including computer tampering, computer and wire
     fraud, illegal wiretapping and conspiracy. They face huge fines and
     up to five years in prison on each of 11 counts.

     The youths, on advice of their lawyers, declined to be interviewed.

     Prosecutors  say they do not know just how and when youthful pranks
     turned  to  serious  crime.  Other  hackers said the trouble began,
     perhaps  innocently enough, as a computer war with ethnic and class
     overtones.

     The Masters of Deception were born in a conflict with the Legion of
     Doom,  which  had been formed by 1984 and ultimately included among
     its  ranks three Texans, one of whom, Kenyon Shulman, is the son of
     a Houston socialite, Carolyn Farb.

     Banished From the Legion

     Mr.  Abene had been voted into the Legion at one point. But when he
     began  to  annoy  others in the group with his New York braggadocio
     and  refusal  to share information, he was banished, Legion members
     said.

     Meanwhile,  a hacker using a computer party line based in Texas had
     insulted Mr. Lee, who is black, with a racial epithet.

     By  1989,  both  New  Yorkers  had  turned  to a new group, M.O.D.,
     founded  by  Mr.  Ladopoulos.  They  vowed  to replace their Legion
     rivals as the "new elite."

     "It's  like every other 18- or 19-year-old who walks around knowing
     he  can  do  something  better  than anyone else can," said Michael
     Godwin,  who  knows  several of the accused and is a lawyer for the
     Electronic  Frontier Foundation of Cambridge, Mass., which provides
     legal aid for hackers. "They are offensively arrogant."

     Hacker  groups  tend  to  rise  and fall within six months or so as
     members  leave for college, meet girls or, as one former hacker put
     it,  "get  a  life." But the M.O.D. continued to gather new members
     from  monthly  meetings  in  the atrium of the Citicorp Building in
     Manhattan and a computer bulletin board called Kaos. According to a
     history  the  group  kept  on  the  computer  network, they enjoyed
     "mischievous  pranks,"  often  aimed at their Texas rivals, and the
     two groups began sparring.

     Texas-New York Sparring

     But  in  June 1990, the three Texas-based Legion members, including
     Mr.  Shulman,  Chris  Goggans  and Scott Chasin, formed Comsec Data
     Security,  a  business intended to help companies prevent break-ins
     by other hackers.

     Worried that the Texans were acting as police informers, the M.O.D.
     members  accused  their  rivals  of  defaming  them  on the network
     bulletin  boards.  Several members, including Mr. Abene, had become
     targets of raids by the Secret Service, and M.O.D. members believed
     the  Texans  were  responsible,  a contention the Texans respond to
     with "no comment."

     But  the  sparring  took  on racial overtones as well. When Mr. Lee
     wrote  a  history  of  the  M.O.D.  and left it in the network, Mr.
     Goggans rewrote it in a jive parody.

     The text that read, "In the early part of 1987, there were numerous
     amounts  of busts in the U.S. and in New York in particular" became
     "In  de early time part uh 1987, dere wuz numerous amounts uh busts
     in de U.S. and in New Yo'k in particular."

     Mr.  Goggans  said  that it was not meant as a racist attack on Mr.
     Lee. "It was just a good way to get under his skin," he said.

     Exposing Identities

     M.O.D.'s activities, according to the indictment and other hackers,
     began to proliferate.

     Unlike most of the "old generation" of hackers who liked to joyride
     through   the  systems,  the  New  Yorkers  began  using  the  file
     information   to   harass   and  intimidate  others,  according  to
     prosecutors.  Everything from home addresses to credit card numbers
     to  places  of  employment  to  hackers'  real names -- perhaps the
     biggest taboo of all -- hit the network.

     In  the indictment, Mr. Lee and Mr. Fernandez are accused of having
     a  conversation  last  fall  in  which  they  talked  about getting
     information on how to alter TRW credit reports to "destroy people's
     lives or make them look like ssaints."

     The  prosecutors  say  the  youths also went after information they
     could  sell,  though  the indictment is not specific about what, if
     anything,  was  sold.  The only such information comes from another
     case  earlier  this month in which two other New York City hackers,
     Morton  Rosenfeld,  21,  of  Brooklyn, and Alfredo de la Fe, 18, of
     Manhattan,  pleaded  guilty  to  a  conspiracy to use passwords and
     other  access  devices obtained from M.O.D. They said they had paid
     "several  hundred  dollars"  to the computer group for passwords to
     obtain  credit reports and then resold the information for "several
     thousand dollars" to private investigators.

     News Media Attention

     Competition  for  attention from the news media also heated up. The
     former  Legion  members  in  Comsec had become media darlings, with
     articles  about  them appearing in Time and Newsweek. Mr. Abene and
     Mr.  Ladopoulos  also  appeared  on  television  or  in  magazines,
     proclaiming  their right to probe computer systems, as long as they
     did no damage.

     In one highly publicized incident, during a 1989 forum on computers
     and  privacy  sponsored  by Harper's magazine, John Perry Barlow, a
     freelance  journalist and lyricist for the Grateful Dead, went head
     to  head  with  Mr.  Abene,  or Phiber Optik. Mr. Barlow called the
     young hacker a "punk."

     According  to an article by Mr. Barlow -- an account that Mr. Abene
     will   not  confirm  or  deny  --  Mr.  Abene  then  retaliated  by
     "downloading"  Mr.  Barlow's  credit  history, displaying it on the
     computer screens of Mr. Barlow and other network users.

     Skirmishes Subside

     "I've  been  in  redneck bars wearing shoulder-length curls, police
     custody  while  on  acid, and Harlem after midnight, but no one has
     ever put the spook in me quite as Phiber Optik did at that moment,"
     Mr.  Barlow wrote. "To a middle-class American, one's credit rating
     has become nearly identical to his freedom."

     In recent months, hackers say, the war has calmed down. Comsec went
     out of business, and several Masters of Deception were left without
     computers after the Secret Service raids.

     Mr. Abene pleaded guilty last year to misdemeanor charges resulting
     from  the raids. On the night before his arrest this month, he gave
     a guest lecture on computers at the New School for Social Research.

     Mr. Lee says he works part time as a stand-up comic and is enrolled
     at Brooklyn College studying film production.

     Mr.  Stira  is three credits shy of a degree in computer science at
     Polytechnic  University  in Brooklyn. Mr. Fernandez hopes to enroll
     this  fall  in  the  Technical Computer Institute in Manhattan. Mr.
     Ladopoulos is studying at Queens Community College.

     No trial date has been set.

     But the battles are apparently not over yet. A couple of days after
     the  charges  were handed up, one Legion member said, he received a
     message  on his computer from Mr. Abene. It was sarcastic as usual,
     he said, and it closed, "Kissy, kissy."