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On 9 March 2005, a 38-year-old Greek electrical
engineer named Costas Tsalikidis was found hanged in his
Athens loft apartment, an apparent suicide. It would
prove to be merely the first public news of a scandal
that would roil Greece for months.
The next day, the prime minister of Greece was told
that his cellphone was being bugged, as were those of
the mayor of Athens and at least 100 other high-ranking
dignitaries, including an employee of the U.S. embassy.
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The victims were customers of Athens-based
Vodafone-Panafon, generally known as Vodafone Greece,
the country's largest cellular service provider;
Tsalikidis was in charge of network planning at the
company. A connection seemed obvious. Given the list of
people and their positions at the time of the tapping,
we can only imagine the sensitive political and
diplomatic discussions, high-stakes business deals, or
even marital indiscretions that may have been routinely
overheard and, quite possibly, recorded.
Even before Tsalikidis's death, investigators had
found rogue software installed on the Vodafone Greece
phone network by parties unknown. Some extraordinarily
knowledgeable people either penetrated the network from
outside or subverted it from within, aided by an agent
or mole. In either case, the software at the heart of
the phone system, investigators later discovered, was
reprogrammed with a finesse and sophistication rarely
seen before or since.
A study of the Athens affair, surely the most bizarre
and embarrassing scandal ever to engulf a major
cellphone service provider, sheds considerable light on
the measures networks can and should take to reduce
their vulnerability to hackers and moles.
It's also a rare opportunity to get a glimpse of one
of the most elusive of cybercrimes. Major network
penetrations of any kind are exceedingly uncommon. They
are hard to pull off, and equally hard to investigate.
Even among major criminal infiltrations, the Athens
affair stands out because it may have involved state
secrets, and it targeted individuals—a combination that,
if it had ever occurred before, was not disclosed
publicly. The most notorious penetration to compromise
state secrets was that of the “Cuckoo's Egg,” a name
bestowed by the wily network administrator who
successfully pursued a German programmer in 1986. The
programmer had been selling secrets about the U.S.
Strategic Defense Initiative (“Star Wars”) to the Soviet KGB.
But unlike the Cuckoo's Egg, the Athens affair
targeted the conversations of specific, highly placed
government and military officials. Given the ease with
which the conversations could have been recorded, it is
generally believed that they were. But no one has found
any recordings, and we don't know how many of the calls
were recorded, or even listened to, by the perpetrators.
Though the scope of the activity is to a large extent
unknown, it's fair to say that no other computer crime
on record has had the same potential for capturing
information about affairs of state.