Terminal Compromise Part 64

"You made changes? What changes?" Higgins was aghast.

"We took all your savings and invested them in a new startup fast food franchise called Press Rat and Wharthog Sandwiches, Inc."

"You have got be kidding." Scott saw the sweat drops at Higgins'

hairline.

"Yeah, I am. But he did show me how easy it is to make adjust- ments in account files. Like pay off loans and have them disap- pear, invoke foreclosures, increase or decrease balances, whatev- er we wanted to do."

"Jesus Christ!"

"That's not the half of it. Not even a millionth of it. See, we went through lots of accounts. The bank computer must hold hundreds of thousands of account records, and we had access to them all. If we had wanted to, we could have erased them all, or zeroed them out, or made everyone rich overnight."

"Are you telling me," Higgins spoke carefully, "that you and this . . .hacker, illegally entered a bank computer and changed records and . . ."

"Whoah!" Scott held up his hands to slow Higgins down. "We left everything the way it was, no changes as far as I could tell."

"Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not. I wasn't in the driver's seat. I went along for the ride."

"What else did you do last night, Scott?" Higgins sounded re- signed to more bad news. The legal implications must have been too much for him to handle.

"We poked around transfer accounts, where they wire money from one bank to another and through the Fed Reserve. Transaction accounts, reserves, statements, credit cards. Use your imagina- tion. If a bank does it, we saw it. The point is, John, I need to know two things."

John Higgins sat back, apparently exhausted. He knew what was coming, at least half of it. His expression told Scott to ask away. He could take it.

"First, did I do anything illegal, prosecutable? You know what I mean. And, can I run with it? That's it."

Higgins' head leaned back on the leather head rest as he began to speak deliberately. This was going to be a lawyer's non-answer.

Scott was prepared for it.

"Did you commit a crime?" Higgins speculated. "My gut reaction says no, but I'm not up on the latest computer legislation. Did you, at any time, do anything to the bank's computers?"

"No. He had control. I only had a window."

"Good, that helps." The air thickened with antic.i.p.ation as Doug and Scott both waited for words of wisdom. "I could make a good argument that you were a reporter, with appropriate credentials, interviewing an individual, who was, coincidentally, at the same time, committing a crime. That is, if what he did was a crime.

I don't know the answer to that yet.

"There have been countless cases where a reporter has witnessed crimes and reported on them with total immunity. Yes, the more I think about it, consider this." Higgins seemed to have renewed energy. The law was his bible and Scott was listening in the congregation. "Reporters have often gone into hostage situations where there is no doubt that a crime is in progress, to report on the condition of the hostages. That's O.K.. They have followed drug dealers into crack houses and filmed their activities."

Higgins thought a little more. "Sure, that's it. The arena doesn't change the rules. You said you couldn't affect the computers, right?" He wanted a confirmation.

"Right. I just watched. And . . .asked him to do certain things."

"No you didn't! Got that? You watched, nothing else!" Higgins cracked sharply at Scott. "If anyone asks, you only watched."

"Gotcha." Scott recognized the subtle difference. He did not want to be an aider or abettor of a crime.

"So, that makes it easy. If you were in the hackers home, watch- ing him over his shoulder, that would be no different from watch- ing him over a computer screen." He sounded confident. "I guess." He sounded less confident. "There is very little case history on this stuff, so, if it came to it, we'd be in an inter- esting position to say the least. But, to answer your question, no, I don't think that you did anything illegal."

"Great. So I can write the story and . . ." Scott made a forgone conclusion without his lawyers advice. There was no way Higgins would let him get away with that.

"Hold your horses. You say write a story, and based upon what I know so far, I think you can, but with some rules."

"What kind of rules?" Skepticism permeated Scott's slow re- sponses.

"Simple ones. Are you planning on printing the pa.s.swords to their computers?"

"No, not at all. Why?"

"Because, that is illegal. No doubt about it. So, good, rule one is easy. Two, I want to read over this entire file and have a review of everything before it goes to bed. Agreed?" Higgins looked at Doug who had not contributed much. He merely nodded, of course that would be fine.

"Three, no specifics. No names of people you saw, nothing exact.

We do not want to be accused of violation of privacy in any way, shape or form."

"That's it?" Scott was pleasantly surprised. What seemed like common sense to him was a legal spider web that Higgins was re- quired to think through.

"Almost. Lastly, was this interview on the record?"

d.a.m.n good question, Scott thought. "I dunno. I never asked, it didn't seem like a regular interview, and since I don't know Kirk's real name, he's not the story. It was what he did that is the story. Does it matter?"

"If the s.h.i.t hits the fan it might, but I think we can get around it. Just be careful what you say, so I don't have to redline 90% of it. Fair enough?"

Scott was pleased beyond control. He stood to thank Higgins.

"Deal. Thanks." Scott began to turn.

"Scott?" Higgins called out. "One more thing."

Oh no, he thought, the hammer was dropping. He turned back to Higgins. "Yeah?"

"Good work. You're onto something. Keep it up and keep it clean."

"No problem." Scott floated on air. "No, problem at all."

Back at his desk, Scott called Hugh Sidneys. He still worked at State First, as far as he knew, and it was time to bring him out of the closet, if possible.

"Hugh?" Scott said affably. "This is Scott Mason, over at the Times?"

"Yeah? Oh, h.e.l.lo," Sidneys said suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"Hugh, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"I think you know. Would you like to talk here on the phone, or privately?" Sometimes leaving the mark only two options, neither particularly attractive, would keep him within those bounds.

Sidneys was an ideal person for this tact.

The pregnant pause conveyed Sidney's consternation. The first person to speak would lose, thought Scott. Hugh spoke.