and "Dr. Ripco"
of his skills at raiding AT&T, and of his intention to crash AT&T's
national phone system. Shadowhawk's brags were noticed by Henry
Kluepfel of Bellcore Security, scourge of the outlaw boards, whose
relations with the Chicago Task Force were long and intimate.

The Task Force successfully established that Section 1030 applied to
the teenage Shadowhawk, despite the objections of his defense attorney.
Shadowhawk had entered a computer "owned" by U.S. Missile Command and
merely "managed" by AT&T. He had also entered an AT&T computer located
at Robbins Air Force Base in Georgia. Attacking AT&T was of "federal
interest" whether Shadowhawk had intended it or not.

The Task Force also convinced the court that a piece of AT&T software
that Shadowhawk had illicitly copied from Bell Labs, the "Artificial
Intelligence C5 Expert System," was worth a cool one million dollars.
Shadowhawk's attorney had argued that Shadowhawk had not sold the
program and had made no profit from the illicit copying. And in point
of fact, the C5 Expert System was experimental software, and had no
established market value because it had never been on the market in the
first place. AT&T's own assessment of a "one million dollar" figure
for its own intangible property was accepted without challenge by the
court, however. And the court concurred with the government
prosecutors that Shadowhawk showed clear "intent to defraud" whether
he'd gotten any money or not. Shadowhawk went to jail.

The Task Force's other best-known triumph had been the conviction and
jailing of "Kyrie." Kyrie, a true denizen of the digital criminal
underground, was a 36-year-old Canadian woman, convicted and jailed for
telecommunications fraud in Canada. After her release from prison, she
had fled the wrath of Canada Bell and the Royal Canadian Mounted
Police, and eventually settled, very unwisely, in Chicago.

"Kyrie," who also called herself "Long Distance Information,"
specialized in voice-mail abuse. She assembled large numbers of hot
long-distance codes, then read them aloud into a series of corporate
voice-mail systems. Kyrie and her friends were electronic squatters in
corporate voice-mail systems, using them much as if they were pirate
bulletin boards, then moving on when their vocal chatter clogged the
system and the owners necessarily wised up. Kyrie's camp followers
were a loose tribe of some hundred and fifty phone-phreaks, who
followed her