a business wanted to substitute the number they were calling from with a different call-back number. Well then, phone spoofing provided an excellent and reliable solution to that pretty nonexistent problem. Like I said, it was a stretch to find an application for this technology that even hinted at legitimacy. More often than not, phone spoofers were hackers, like I was about to become, and a hacker’s intention is anything but legit.
Over the years, IT experts have spent countless billions beefing up their computer security infrastructure. They’ve brought in meatier computers, state-of-the-art virus protection software, firewalls, and various tools of the trade to keep the hackers out. What they can’t upgrade are the people who work in their call centers. This weakness can’t be fixed with code or by upgrading to a smarter model. People will do what people will do. When a hacker gets a customer service representative on the telephone, that’s when the real magic happens; it’s the moment a dedicated employee becomes the unwitting accomplice of a crime.
The technique is called social engineering, the art of manipulating people into performing actions or divulging confidential information. If social engineering is the getaway car of cybercrime, then the telephone is the gun. To commit my crime, I needed to disguise my phone number. I was about to make a bunch of calls to the customer service department at UniSol Health. Eventually, I’d rouse at least one rep’s suspicion if he saw the same number popping up time and time again on his call screen. None of this could be easily done through the good old-fashioned phone network. Thankfully, the Internet makes most everything possible, especially crime.
At first I thought about using SpoofPhone. The company’s tagline eliminated all doubt as to what service they provided: “The Global Leader in Caller ID Spoofing.” Then I looked at the price: ten cents per minute. I figured with the number of calls I needed to make, the cost would be prohibitive. Instead, I settled on a technology called Asterisk.
Asterisk required a spare computer, which I had, and a VoIP service, which I got from VoicePulse. It didn’t take much Linux knowledge to get the program installed and working. Of course, there were a few configuration files to tweak, but that was rudimentary work. Then I had to route my business phone to run through the Asterisk program. It took me three hours. Good thing I work quickly when motivated.
Before all this took place, I scanned through my database of registered One World game players, searching for men with a similar demographic to my own. One of these guys, unwittingly, was going to help save my wife’s life.
As a matter of protocol, I don’t store much customer information in my database, but I do require a credit card for buying specialty items and energy boosts for a better game-playing experience. That means I’ve got names and billing addresses on file. Lots of them. I also asked a bunch of voluntary questions on my registration form: phone numbers, sex, date of birth, that sort of thing. Gamers like to support the independent guy, so about half of my registered players filled out the entire form. It was enough information to get me started.
I tested out the installation by calling my cell phone from my business line. I picked a random phone number from our business card booklet, a bug exterminator in Cambridge. Mice weren’t the only creatures lurking about our apartment that Ginger liked to chase.
My cell phone rang. I checked the display. Sure enough, it looked as though Ace Exterminator was calling to fix our cockroach problem once and for all.
My phone call, however, appeared to have awoken Ruby. Ginger perked up as well, first a wide yawn, paw stretch, back stretch, and shake, then a leap off the bed. I wrapped Ruby in my arms and gave her a tender kiss hello. Ginger meowed, perhaps out of jealousy, prompting me to give her head a quick scratch.
“Who called?” Ruby asked. The torpor in her voice proved contagious as I stifled a yawn of my own.
“Nobody,” I said. “Wrong number.”
I’m sure I looked guilty of something, but Ruby didn’t seem to notice. It felt terrible to keep a secret, but then again, I knew Ruby would squash my plan during its inception stage. I was less certain how she’d react when it came time for the execution phase.
“Oh,” Ruby said, a touch of disappointment in her voice. “I thought it might have been my