Ghost in the Wires_ My Adventures as the World's Most Wanted Hacker - Kevin Mitnick [164]
I was still elated about the success of the Shimmy hack. But I would live to regret it. Those few hours would eventually lead to my undoing. I had unleashed a hacker vigilante who would stop at nothing to get even with me.
THIRTY-FOUR
Hiding in the Bible Belt
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Imagine yourself in a strange city where you have no close, trusted friends. You avoid the other people in your apartment building because your photo has been prominently displayed in supermarket tabloids, and in weekly newsmagazines. You’re being hunted by the FBI, the U.S. Marshals, and the Secret Service, so you’re afraid of getting too friendly with anyone. And your biggest form of entertainment is the very thing you’re being hunted for.
Although I hadn’t counted on needing to leave Seattle in a hurry, I had been giving some thought to where I would go next if I ever had to pull up stakes. I had considered Austin because it was known for its technology. And Manhattan because it was… well, Manhattan. But just as I had done when I chose Denver, I again relied on Money magazine’s annual assessment of the Ten Best Cities in America. That year, Raleigh, North Carolina, was listed as number one. The description sounded tempting: the people were supposed to be pleasant and laid-back, the surrounding area rural, with mountains in the distance.
Flying had always stressed me out, so once again I had decided to take the train. And it would be cool to see what the rest of the country looked like. After my Christmas stopover in Denver and the raid on Shimmy’s servers I boarded another Amtrak on New Year’s Eve for the three-day trip to Raleigh, as Michael Stanfill. The sleeper car was more expensive than flying, but what an eye-opening experience it turned out to be, watching the American landscape roll past.
The people I met on the train gave me a perfect opportunity to practice my cover story, providing details of my life and background as Stanfill. By the time I arrived in North Carolina, I had to have my identity down pat.
The train pulled into the Raleigh station after dark. I had heard so much about the South, how its culture and people were different, how it moved at a slower pace. Maybe its reputation was a remnant of the South of a long time ago. I was curious to find out for myself.
That evening I walked around the northern section of Raleigh, getting a feeling for the city. I had imagined the South would have a warm and cozy climate; instead it felt as cold as Denver. The winter temperatures in Raleigh, I would discover, were about the same as those in the Mile-High City.
But as I walked around, getting a sense of the place, I spotted a restaurant familiar to me, one of the Boston Market chain. Not exactly Southern, but I went in for dinner anyway.
My waitress was a cute twentysomething girl with long, dark hair, a heartwarming smile, and one of those luscious Southern drawls I hadn’t known really existed anymore. She greeted me with a friendly, “Hi, how’re you?”
Reading her name tag, I said, “Hey, Cheryl, I’m doing great. I just arrived in town—my first time in North Carolina.” After she took my order, I said, “I’m going to be looking for an apartment. Maybe you can tell me a good part of town to settle in.” She smiled and said she’d be right back.
When she served my food, she and a couple of the other waitresses sat down to talk with me while I ate. I couldn’t imagine that happening in Los Angeles. Or Seattle. Or even in outgoing Denver. The ladies told me, “We just want to keep you company.” I was blown away by my first taste of Southern hospitality, friendliness sweeter than anything I had ever encountered. The girls talked up life in Raleigh. They told me about the different areas of town, where to live, what to do. It was tobacco-growing country still, but had also gone