Hacked Read Online Free PDF Page A

the task was pointless. But the task itself had become the point.
    It was a laborious process – too long to measure in comedy shows. And I was getting nowhere fast. You need to understand that real-time hacking is nothing like what you see at the cinema. In a film, if a computer nerd has to crack a code to open a door or a safe, he uses a laptop to cycle through all the possible combinations and find the right one before the FBI arrives/the hero explodes/the human race ends. This is not possible. A computer takes between four days and nineteen years to crack a 128-bit encrypted code. A computer in the hands of a very clever hacker still takes between four days and nineteen years.
    No surprise, then, that hackers don’t bother with code breaking – they find another way in. It’s like a burglar prising open a window, rather than attempting to get through the mortice lock and security chain on the front door. However, what
really
speeds up the process is to find a way round the security
and
a clue. We’re talking social engineering – jargon for using the fallibility of the target being hacked. Someone once tried to do it to my gran. Luckily she has me as a grandson.
    ‘Do you know, Dan, I had a phone call from the bank this afternoon?’
    ‘Did you, Gran?’
    ‘I did – some little beggar had taken money from my account, no less!’
    ‘Are you sure?’ At this point I wasn’t really listening, just responding to keep Gran happy. I thought she’d bought something and forgotten about it.
    ‘It was sorted out ever so quickly.’
    ‘Good,’ I said.
    ‘All I had to do was confirm my details and that little number on the back of the card and he said he could sort it out and I’d get all the money back.’ She smiled, pleased with the result. ‘He was called Andrew.’
    My head caught up with what she was saying. I got Dad, he rang the bank, and Gran got the money back even though it was her fault. Dad made her promise to never give any personal info to anyone she didn’t know.
    ‘But he was from the bank,’ she said.
    See? Duped by a combination of coding
and
social engineering.
    (Btw, my gran’s not stupid – loads of people fall for those scams.)
    Anyway, if I was going to successfully hack a spy satellite
I
needed a clue. One tiny bit of help to lower the odds. And I got it, thanks to Dad.
     
    A week and a half after Angel first suggested I infiltrate the security of the great US of A – which equates to maybe … eighty hours of computer time – the parents arrived at the door of my room (with El listening in from hers). It seemed I’d been on their radar for a few days – evidently only so much geek behaviour could pass as normal …
    ‘We need to talk, Dan,’ said Dad.
    For a crazy moment I thought they were about to say they were getting a divorce. That was the tone.
    ‘OK,’ I said.
    ‘It’s not healthy to spend so much time on your own, darling,’ said Mum.
    ‘You need to get out,’ said Dad.
    Relieved that I wouldn’t be the child with two bedrooms and no clean pants in either, I nodded, ready for the usual five minutes of advice before reverting to situation normal.
    ‘You’re only sixteen and we think you need some rules.’
    ‘Like?’
    ‘I want you downstairs in the evening after your homework and no computing late at night,’ said Dad.
    ‘OK,’ I said. And then, because I seemed a bit too willing, ‘But I don’t see why. I’m fine.’
    ‘You’re very pale,’ said Mum. ‘And I think too much looking at a screen is bad for your eyes. They’re slightly bloodshot.’
    *wink*
    Dad’s bright idea was that I come down at nine o’clock every night and watch telly with him. Why swapping one screen with another would help, who knew? I agreed anyway. Previous experience told me no one would enforce it.
    They were leaving, satisfied with our little chat, when Mum said, ‘We’ve had a letter about the geography trip. Mr Richards says you need to go.’
    ‘I’m not