
"The cream of US military intelligence last week had their
bungled attempt to prosecute a bedroom hacker thrown out by a British court,"
screamed the lead of a November 28, 1997 piece in the United Kingdom newspaper,
The Guardian.
Even as the President's Commission on Critical Infrastructure Protection was
spinning yet more scenarios of imminent techno-Gotterdammerung, the wheels were
coming off one of the U.S. military's most extensive public relations campaigns.
Aimed at creating the image of menacing hackers in the employ of foreign powers,
U.S. Air Force claims fell apart in English court, out of sight of the U.S.
newsmedia as the U.K. press looked on and smirked.
Matthew Bevan, 23, a hacker known as Kuji, walked out of a south London Crown
Court a free man as prosecutors confessed it wasn't worth trying him on the
basis of flimsy claims made by the U.S. military. Further, he was deemed no
threat to national computer security.
Since 1994, the U.S. government has used Bevan, and a younger partner, Richard
Pryce, in reports by the Air Force, the Government Accounting Office, the Pentagon's
Defense Science Board report on information warfare and the recent Marsh Commission,
on the dangers posed by international terrorists using the worldwide computer
networks to attack the United States.
". . . [the] story of the Bevan and Pryce cases shows [the Air Force's] forensic
work to have been so poor it would have been unlikely to have stood up in court
and convicted Bevan. The public portrayal of the two Britons as major threats
to U.S. national security was pure hype," wrote Duncan Campbell for The Guardian.
However, events really began in 1994, when the two young men broke into an
Air Force installation known as Rome Labs, a facility at the now closed Griffiss
Air Force Base, in New York. This break-in became the centerpiece of a Government
Accounting Office report on network intrusions at the Department of Defense
in 1996 and also constituted the meat of a report entitled "Security and Cyberspace"
by Dan Gelber and Jim Christy, presented to the Senate Permanent Subcommittee
on Investigations during hearings on hacker break-ins the same year. It is interesting
to note that Christy, the Air Force Office of Special Investigations staffer/author
of this report, was never at Rome while the break-ins were being monitored.
Before delving into this in detail, it's interesting to read what a British
newspaper published about Richard Pryce, known as Datastream Cowboy, then seventeen,
about a year before he was made the poster boy by the GAO.
In a brief article, blessedly so in contrast to the reams of propaganda published
on the incident for Congress, the July 5, 1995 edition of The Independent wrote,
"[Datastream Cowboy] appeared before Bow Street magistrates yesterday charged
with unlawfully gaining access to a series of American defense computers. Richard
Pryce, who was 16 at the time of the alleged offences, is accused of accessing
key U.S. Air Force systems and a network owned by Lockheed, the missile and
aircraft manufacturers."
Pryce, a resident of a northwest suburb of London, was charged with 12 separate
offenses under the British Computer Misuse Act. He was arrested on May 12, 1994,
by New Scotland Yard. The Times of London reported when police came for Pryce,
they found him at his PC on the third floor of his family's house. Knowing he
was about to be arrested, he "curled up on the floor and cried."
The Air Force's tracking of Pryce, and to a lesser extent, Bevan, was recounted
in an eight page appendix to Gelber's and Christy's "Security and Cyberspace,"
entitled "The Case Study: Rome Laboratory, Griffiss Air Force Base, NY Intrusion."
Pryce's entry into Air Force computers was originally noticed on March 28,
1994, when personnel discovered a sniffer program he had installed on one of
the Air Force systems in Rome. The Defense Information System Agency (DISA)
was notified. DISA subsequently called the Air Force Office of Special Investigations
(AFOSI) at the Air Force Information Warfare Center (AFIWC) in San Antonio,
Texas. AFIWC then sent a team to Rome to appraise the break-in, secure the system
and trace those responsible. During the process, the AFIWC team of computer
scientists -- not AFOSI investigators, a point not clearly made by the Air Force
authors and one that becomes more important when viewing the fallout and repercussions
of the case -- discovered Datastream Cowboy had entered the Rome Air Force computers
for the first time on March 25. Passwords had been compromised, electronic mail
read and deleted and unclassified "battlefield simulation" data copied off the
facility. The Rome network was also used as a staging area for penetration of
other systems on the Internet.
Air Force personnel initially traced the break-in back one step to the New
York City provider, Mindvox. According to the Christy report, this put the NYC
provider under suspicion because "newspaper articles" said Mindvox's computer
security was furnished by two "former Legion of Doom members." "The Legion of
Doom is a loose-knit computer hacker group which had several members convicted
for intrusions into corporate telephone switches in 1990 and 1991," wrote Gelber
and Christy.
The Air Force then got permission to begin monitoring -- the equivalent of
wiretapping -- all communications on the Rome Labs network. Limited observation
of other Internet providers being used during the break-in was conducted from
the Rome facilities. Monitoring told the investigators the handles of hackers
involved in the break-in were Datastream Cowboy and Kuji.
Since the monitoring was of limited value in determining the whereabouts of
Datastream Cowboy and Kuji, investigators resorted to "their human intelligence
network of informants, i.e., stool pigeons, that 'surf the Internet.' Gossip
from one 'Net stoolie to Air Force investigators uncovered that Datastream Cowboy
-- [Richard Pryce] -- was from Britain. The anonymous source said he had e-mail
correspondence with Datastream Cowboy in which the hacker said he was a 16-year
old living in England who enjoyed penetrating ".MIL" systems. Datastream Cowboy
also apparently ran a bulletin board system and gave the telephone number to
the AFOSI source.
The Air Force team contacted New Scotland Yard and the British law enforcement
agency identified the residence, the home of Richard Pryce, which corresponded
to Datastream Cowboy's system phone number. English authorities began observing
Pryce's phone calls and noticed he was making fraudulent use of British Telecom.
In addition, whenever intrusions at the Air Force network in Rome occurred,
Pryce's number was seen to be making illegal calls out of Britain.
Pryce travelled everywhere on the Internet, going through South America, multiple
countries in Europe and Mexico, occasionally entering the Rome network. From
Air Force computers, he would enter systems at Jet Propulsion Laboratory in
Pasadena, California, and the Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland.
Since Pryce was, according to Air Force investigators, capturing the logins
and passwords of the networks in Rome Labs, he was then able to get into the
home systems of Rome network users, defense contractors like Lockheed.
By mid-April of 1994 the Air Force was monitoring other systems being used
by the British hackers. On the 14th of the month, Kuji logged on to the Goddard
Space Center from a system in Latvia and copied data from it to the Baltic country.
According to Gelber's report, the Air Force observers assumed the worst, that
it was a sign that someone in an eastern European country was making a grab
for sensitive information. They broke the connection but not before Kuji had
copied files off the Goddard system. As it turned out, the Latvian computer
was just another system the British hackers were using as a stepping stone;
Pryce had also used it to cover his tracks when penetrating networks at Wright-Patterson
Air Force Base in Ohio, via an intermediate system in Seattle, cyberspace.com.
The next day, according to the AFOSI report, Kuji was again observed trying
to probe various systems at NATO in Brussels and The Hague as well as Wright-Patterson.
On the 19th, Datastream Cowboy successfully returned to NATO systems in The
Hague through Mindvox. The point Gelber and Christy were laboriously trying
to make was that Kuji -- Matthew Bevan -- a 21-year old, was coaching Pryce
during some of his attacks on various systems.
By this point, New Scotland Yard had a search warrant for Pryce with the plan
being to swoop down on him the next time he accessed the Air Force network in
Rome.
In April, Datastream Cowboy penetrated a system on the Korean peninsula and
copied material off a facility called the Korean Atomic Research Institute to
an Air Force computer in Rome. At the time, the investigators had no idea whether
the system was in North or South Korea. The impression created was one of hysteria
and confusion at Rome. There was fear that the system, if in North Korea, would
trigger an international incident, with the hack interpreted as an "aggressive
act of war." The system turned out to be in South Korea.
It's worth noting that while the story was portrayed as the work of an anonymous
hacker, New Scotland Yard already had a suspect. Further, according to Gelber's
and Christy's report, English authorities already had a search warrant for Pryce's
house.
On May 12, British authorities pounced. Pryce was arrested and his residence
searched. He crumbled, according to the Times of London, and began to cry. Gelber
and Christy write that Pryce promptly admitted to the Air Force break-ins as
well as others. Pryce confessed he had copied a large program that used artificial
intelligence to construct theoretical Air Orders of Battle from an Air Force
computer to Mindvox and left it there because of its great size, 3-4 megabytes.
Pryce paid for his Internet service with a fraudulent credit card number. At
the time, the investigators were unable to find out the name and whereabouts
of Kuji. A lead to an Australian underground bulletin board system yielded nothing.
On June 23 of 1996, Reuters reported that Matthew Bevan had been arrested and
also charged in connection with the 1994 Air Force break-ins in Rome.
Bevan was found in the same low-tech manner as Pryce. His phone number was
eventually lifted by Scotland Yard from Pryce's seized PC. "Had it not been
for Scotland Yard, the relatively innocuous Pryce and Bevan would never have
been found and the U.S. Senate would still be hearing about cyberterrorists
from faraway lands," wrote the Guardian's reporter.
Lacking much evidence for conspiratorial computer-waged campaigns of terror
and chaos against the U.S., the makers of Congressional reports nevertheless
resorted to telling the same story over and over in 1996, three times in the
space of the hearings on the subject.
As a result, Pryce and Bevan appeared in "Security in Cyberspace" and twice
in Government Accounting Office reports AIMD-96-84 and T-AIMD96-92 in 1996,
which were essentially rewritten versions of the former with additional editorializing.
Jack Brock, the author of these now famous GAO reports on hacker intrusions
at the Department of Defense wrote, ". . . Air Force officials told us that
at least one of the hackers [of Rome Labs] may have been working for a foreign
country interested in obtaining military research data or areas in which the
Air Force was conducting advanced research."
This was not even close to the truth.
But what were Bevan and Pryce really after?
Not Air Force advanced research! Unless . . . you are one of those who are
convinced the U.S. military is really hiding a flying saucer at Area 51 in Nevada.
According to the Guardian account, Matthew Bevan was interested in little but
gathering evidence confirming that Area 51 was a secret hangar for captured
alien spacecraft.
The Guardian news report was also extremely critical of Air Force computer
scientist Kevin Ziese.
Ziese, said the Guardian, "led a six-strong team [from San Antonio] whose members,
or so he told Fortune magazine, slept under their desks for three weeks, hacking
backwards until Pryce was arrested."
"Since then, Ziese has hit the US lecture circuit and [privatized] his infowar
business. As the WheelGroup corporation of San Antonio, he now sells friendly
hacking services to top U.S. corporations," reported the Guardian.
However, while the Guardian was accurate in its assessment of the trivial menace
of Bevan and Pryce, it was off in its characterization of Ziese, missing the
real target -- investigators from AFOSI and the authors of the Gelber/Christy
report, according to information supplied in interviews with Ziese.
Ziese commented to Crypt Newsletter that he "[had] not hit the lecture circuit."
He added that he was amused by the content of the article in the Guardian and
that "to date, no one has ever asked me even one question -- beyond my initial
deposition to New Scotland Yard in 1996 -- regarding the Rome Lab case!"
Digging more deeply into the story, the evidence gathered on the Rome Labs
break-in can be separated into two distinct classes. "The first," said Ziese,"
[was] the deposition I gave sometime in and about May of 1996 to New Scotland
Yard." The second is the same shopworn story the "extremely incompetent criminal
investigators had gathered originally," he added.
It was the investigators from the Air Force Office of Special Investigations,
not the group of computer scientists from the Air Force's Information Warfare
Center in San Antonio -- which Ziese led -- who peddled the Rome Labs break-in
as evidence of international spying.
"Unbeknownst to the public at large, we had a very complete set of tools [and
a] chronology," said Ziese. "It was the criminal investigators who tied our
hands, lost critical pieces of data and refused to allow us to testify/discuss
the case. "They wanted to make a mountain out of a molehill."
In this, they were successful.
" . . . it was incompetent criminal investigators who saw a spy under every
rock," Ziese continued, "not the computer scientists I brought with me to Rome."
AFOSI was responsible for the "hogwash that has been published to date about
the Rome Lab attacks."
By the English account, the evidence submitted by the U.S. military investigative
team was almost worthless: "[E-mails] of edited files that had been relayed
to Ziese and others."
A desire for secrecy also backfired on the Air Force. In May of this year,
the Air Force declined to allow Bevan's defense to look at the test programs
they claimed to have used to monitor his intrusions and " . . . having set traps
to catch hackers, [the Air Force] neglected to produce before and after file
dumps of the target computers."
The result was: "In the end, all the Americans handed over was patchy and circumstantial
evidence that their computers had been hacked from Britain."
In March of this year, Richard Pryce -- now 19 -- was fined 1,200 pounds for
offenses related to unauthorized access in connection with the break-ins at
Rome Labs. ?
In sort of related news:
About the same time the wheels were coming off the Rome Labs myth, a similar
fate was being meted out to the hoary tale of electromagnetic pulse gun attacks
on banks in the United Kingdom.
Alert Crypt Newsletter readers already know the publication has dissed the
legend of the non-nuclear electromagnetic pulse (HERF, microwave, radio frequency)
gun as the chupacabras of cyberspace for the last two years.
On December 4, a British journalist for TechWeb dubbed them the same.
These stories are nonsense, said Michael Corcoran of Britain's Defense Evaluation
and Research Agency, for TechWeb. "There are no radio-frequency weapons out
there that anyone is in a position to use against banks." Corcoran then waffled
for the publication and equivocated that sometime in the unspecified future
emp guns might be possible. ? ?