Ghost in the Wires_ My Adventures as the World's Most Wanted Hacker - Kevin Mitnick [14]
He gave me that challenge because he knew there was no way in the world I’d be able to do it.
Maybe it really was impossible, but I sure was going to try.
The modem number brought up a logon banner on the Ark, but of course you had to enter a valid account number and password. How could I get those credentials?
I had a plan I thought might work, but to get started I would need to know the name of a system administrator—not someone in the development group itself but one of the people who managed the internal computer systems at Digital. I called the switchboard for the facility in Merrimack, New Hampshire, where the Ark was located, and asked to be connected to the computer room.
“Which one?” the switchboard lady asked.
Oops. I hadn’t ever thought to research which lab the Ark was in. I said, “For RSTS/E development.”
“Oh, you mean the raised-floor lab. I’ll connect you.” (Large computer systems were often mounted on raised floors so all the heavy-duty cabling could be run underneath.)
A lady came on the line. I was taking a gamble, but they wouldn’t be able to trace the call, so even if they got suspicious, I had little to lose.
“Is the PDP-11/70 for the Ark located in this lab?” I asked, giving the name of the most powerful DEC minicomputer of the time, which I figured the development group would have to be using.
She assured me it was.
“This is Anton Chernoff,” I brazenly claimed. Chernoff was one of the key developers on the RSTS/E Development Team, so I was taking a big risk that she wouldn’t be familiar with his voice. “I’m having trouble logging in to one of my accounts on the Ark.”
“You’ll have to contact Jerry Covert.”
I asked for his extension; she didn’t hesitate to give it to me, and when I reached him, I said, “Hey, Jerry, this is Anton,” figuring that even if he didn’t know Chernoff personally, he was almost certain to know the name.
“Hey, how’re you doing?” he answered jovially, obviously not familiar enough with Chernoff in person to know that I didn’t sound like him.
“Okay,” I said, “but did you guys delete one of my accounts? I created an account for testing some code last week, and now I can’t log in.” He asked what the account log-in was.
I knew from experience that under RSTS/E, account numbers were a combination of the project number and the programmer number, such as 1,119—each number running up to 254. Privileged accounts always had the project number of 1. And I had discovered that the RSTS/E Development Team used programmer numbers starting at 200.
I told Jerry that my test account was “1,119,” crossing my fingers that it wasn’t assigned to anyone.
It was a lucky guess. He checked and told me there wasn’t any 1,119 account. “Damn,” I answered. “Somebody must have removed it. Can you re-create it for me?”
What Chernoff wanted, Chernoff got. “No problem,” Jerry said. “What password do you want?”
I spotted a jar of strawberry jelly in the kitchen cabinet across from me. I told him, “Make it ‘jelly.’ ”
In hardly more than a blink, he said, “Okay, all done.”
I was stoked, the adrenaline running high. I could hardly believe it could’ve been so easy. But would it really work?
From my computer, I called the dial-in number my would-be mentor Neal had given me. The call connected and this text appeared:
RSTS V7.0-07 * The Ark * Job 25 KB42 05-Jul-80 11:17 AM
# 1,119
Password:
Dialup password:
Damn, damn, damn. I dialed Jerry Covert back, again as Chernoff. “Hey, I’m dialing in from home, and it’s asking for a dial-up password.”
“You didn’t get it in your email? It’s ‘buffoon.’ ”
I tried again and I was