No, he hadn't learned his skills while working for a company.
`Well, what did you do from 1989 to 1992?' the temp agency staffer inevitably asked in an exasperated voice.
`I … ah … travelled around the country.' What else was Par going to say? How could he possibly answer that question?
If he was lucky, the agency might land him a data-entry job at $8 per hour. If he was less fortunate, he might end up doing clerical work for less than that.
By 1993, things had become a little rocky with Theorem. After four and a half years together, they broke up. The distance was too great, in every sense. Theorem wanted a more stable life—maybe not a traditional Swiss family with three children and a pretty chalet in the Alps, but something more than Par's transient life on the road.
The separation was excruciatingly painful for both of them. Conversation was strained for weeks after the decision. Theorem kept thinking she had made a mistake. She kept wanting to ask Par to come back. But she didn't.
Par drowned himself in alcohol. Shots of tequila, one after the other.
Scull it. Slam the glass down. Fill it to the top. Throw back another.
After a while, he passed out. Then he was violently ill for days, but
somehow he didn't mind. It was cleansing to be so ill.
Somewhere along the way, Rosen managed to get Par's things returned from the Secret Service raids. He passed the outdated computer and other equipment back to Par, along with disks, print-outs and notes.
Par gathered up every shred of evidence from his case, along with a bottle of Jack Daniels, and made a bonfire. He shredded print-outs, doused them in lighter fluid and set them alight. He fed the disks into the fire and watched them melt in the flames. He flipped through the pages and pages of notes and official reports and let them pull out particular memories. Then he crumpled up each one and tossed it in the fire. He even sprinkled a little Jack Daniels across the top for good measure.
As he pulled the pages from a Secret Service report, making them into tight paper balls, something caught his eye and made him wonder. Many hackers around the world had been busted in a series of raids following the first Thanksgiving raid at Par's house back in 1988. Erik Bloodaxe, the MOD boys, the LOD boys, The Atlanta Three, Pad and Gandalf, the Australians—they had all been either busted or raided during 1989, 1990 and 1991.
How were the raids connected? Were the law-enforcement agencies on three different continents really organised enough to coordinate worldwide attacks on hackers?
The Secret Service report gave him a clue. It said that in December 1988, two informants had called Secret Service special agents in separate divisions with information about Par. The informants—both hackers—told the Secret Service that Par was not the `Citibank hacker' the agency was looking for. They said the real `Citibank hacker' was named Phoenix.
Phoenix from Australia.
Chapter 5 — The Holy Grail.
So we came and conquered and found; riches of Commons and Kings.
— from `River Runs Red', Blue Sky Mining.
There it was, in black and white. Two articles by Helen Meredith in The Australian in January 1989.2 The whole Australian computer underground was buzzing with the news.
The first article appeared on 14 January:
Citibank hackers score $500,000
An elite group of Australian hackers has lifted more than $US500,000 ($580,000) out of America's Citibank in one of the more daring hacking crimes in Australia's history.
Australian federal authorities were reported late yesterday to be working with American authorities to pin down the Australian connection involving hackers in Melbourne and Sydney.
These are the elite `freekers' of white collar crime …
The Australian connection is reported to have used a telephone in the foyer of Telecom's headquarters at 199 William Street in Melbourne to send a 2600-hertz signal giving them access to a trunk line and ultimately to a managerial access code for Citibank.
Sources said last night the hackers had lifted $US563,000 from the US bank and transferred it into several accounts. The money has now been withdrawn …
Meanwhile, Victorian police were reported yesterday to be systematically searching the homes of dozens of suspects in a crackdown on computer hackers …
An informed source said Criminal Investigation Bureau officers armed with search warrants were now searching through the belongings of the hacking community and expected to find hundreds of thousands of dollars of goods.
An informed source said Criminal Investigation Bureau officers armed with search warrants were now searching through the belongings of the hacking community and expected to find hundreds of thousands of dollars of goods.
The second article was published ten days later:
Hackers list card hauls on boards
Authorities remain sceptical of the latest reports of an international hacking and phreaking ring and its Australian connection.
Yesterday, however, evidence continued to stream into the Melbourne based bulletin boards under suspicion …
In the latest round of bulletin board activity, a message from a United States hacker known as Captain Cash provided the Australian connection with the latest news on Australian credit cards, provided by local hackers, and their illegal use by US hackers to the value of $US362 018 ($416112).
The information was taken from a computer bulletin board system known as Pacific Island and used actively by the Australian connection.
The message read: `OK on the 5353 series which we are closing today—Mastercard $109 400.50. On the 4564 series—Visa which I'll leave open for a week
$209417.90. And on good old don't leave home without someone else's: $43 200.
`Making a grand total of
$362018.40!
