Jollier
Professional
- Messages
- 1,514
- Reaction score
- 1,482
- Points
- 113
In life, you can't fake it, only my style of storytelling. Everything else can. It is important to note that in counterfeiting anything, quality plays a huge role. And quality can only be guaranteed by a serious approach to business. Chris Aragon had such an approach, his duplicate credit cards were a work of art, put your credit card next to them and you won't notice the difference.
What could be more beautiful than power in cyberspace? The naive fed thinks that this is the power in his hands, just like the fates of carders from the planet. He digs into their dirty underwear, he is insidious and dangerous, he is a fed, the hope and support of a great country. But this is not power in cyberspace, guys, but just a pathetic mouse fuss, and while the fed watches the planet, Max Butler watches everyone at the same time, simultaneously cleaning out the newly-minted adepts of Boa.
Together with Chris, they thought for a long time about what to do, Max wanted to warn Crypt about Chris, but Oragon insisted that he not interfere. This secret would be their trump card, Max would be aware of everything that was happening in the bureau, anticipating their steps in advance. This is the true power in cyberspace, just like back then during the attack on Baing, but now he was as anonymous as possible.
Max stripped the carders under his control blind, he returned most of them to their mother's tit, and those who were assertive were left with nothing, because Chris's team entered the game. The dumps were stolen for the second time, which meant there was no time to waste. Damn Chris Oragon, a self-taught cybercriminal, a carder from God, if you like, for him carding was not an empty phrase, it was his craft, his business, his path to a new life.
Of course, he took the matter seriously, imagine a truly heavenly place, a luxury residential complex in Irvine, Orien County, California. Behind the gates, fountains were bubbling loudly in the well-kept courtyards, and local davalki were playfully splashing in four pools. Residents were carefreely enjoying life, relaxing in spas, working out in one of three available gyms.
And they did not think at all that in one of Christopher's luxurious apartments, Ragone would open a workshop for the production of counterfeit plastic and driver's licenses. His credit clones will become a real work of art, the duplicate will completely copy the original. Put your credit card next to it, and you will not notice the difference. Chris owes all this to the last four digits of the credit card number.
Remember, I said that in prestigious stores the cashier enters the last four digits of the card? This is a kind of foolproof protection, the fact is that the post-terminal memory has a standard algorithm for checking the check digit. When the last digits of the card number are entered on the keyboard, it actually checks the authenticity of the number recorded on the magnetic stripes and matches the number printed on the card. Realizing this, Chris invested his last $15,000 in credit card printing equipment.
What you see in this photo is Chris’s workspace, an artist’s studio hidden behind a dark curtain from the curious onlookers on the street. To understand how Chris counterfeited credit cards, we’ll need to call in Detective Bob Watts. God bless his federal soul! It all started with Chris taking a blank CR-80 card with a magnetic stripe and inserting it into a Fargo HDP-600 card reader, a $5,000 machine used to print corporate cards.
Using special software on his laptop, Chris would load the desired image and give the command to start printing. The printing process took about 48 seconds, and the HDP600 would first apply paint to the plastic surface, then a thin, clear laminate coating to protect it from abrasion and scratches. Then the Fargo would spit out a card, bright and shiny, indistinguishable from any other card in the country.
It could be a white-headed Orlands, or the gazing gaze of the Capital One logo, or the grim Centurion on the American Express card. The complexity of the image didn't matter, except that for the higher-limit cards, Chris used platinum- or gold-dyed CR-80s, which he bought in boxes of 100. Once Chris had a stack of freshly dyed plastic, he moved to the next step on the production line.
He used a monochrome printer to print a small amount on the back of the card, then, if the design called for a hologram, Chris would pull a sheet of Chinese knockoffs from the stack, cut out an oval or rounded rectangle, and apply it in the desired location. Next, a $2,000 QuickPrint Model 55 heat stamper would fuse the metal foil to the surface of the plastic. Now it was time to stamp out the cardholder information, expiration dates, and account numbers.
A hot stamping machine was used for this, it was a motorized wheel with a carousel of letters and numbers. Experienced Chinese carder Kuili demonstrates a similar hot stamping technique, the machine punched out one character at a time using silver or gold foil. This was an extremely routine job, since it was easy to screw up the plastic by misplacing the character or the distance between other elements of the card.
It is important to note that the credit card verification system does not check the customer's first and last name, which meant that Chris could punch in absolutely any values. On the cards he personally used, he preferred the pseudonym Christopher Anderson, he bothered so much that he even edited Max's dumps so that the magnetic strip matched the name on the front. Although this was not necessary at all, since, unlike the rest of the data, it was not used to calculate the CVV code.
The final step in making a fake credit card was two cherished swipes through the already proven MSR-206 for years, in order to write the dump to the magnetic strip, but that's it. Now Chris had a ready-made fake card in his hands, which almost completely duplicated the original. There was only one thing left to do, Chris had to assemble a team to sell the fake plastic, he immediately realized that young sexy girls cope with this task much better.
All these sluts had one thing in common - lack of money, and Chris skillfully used this, he had an unrivaled talent to sit on ears. He could easily meet a pretty girl in a restaurant and, as if nothing had happened, invite her to a party with his friends. She joined them in loud clubs and luxurious dinners, rode in a rented limousine, all this was generously polished with alcohol, she saw money, a lot of money, and no one even tried to fuck her.
Aragon seemed like a good friend to her, someone with money. Of course, sooner or later they would run to Reece and cry into his shirt, and the good daddy would offer them an easy job with an incredible paycheck, and they would, of course, accept.
So Chris recruited Nancy, a short girl with a tattoo of Love on her wrist, a pale girl with brown hair and brown eyes named Lynsey, a young Italian girl named Adriana, and Jamie, who worked as a waitress at the Khutoros restaurant in Newport Beach. The plastic sales team was almost complete, all that was left was to find a smart and responsible female to assign some of the administrative work to, like entering payroll or buying necessary things from stores.
Her name was Elizabeth, a beautiful girl who worked in the mortgage lending industry. None of the girls knew where Chris got the credit card information from, he called Max Wiz and introduced him to the girls as a super hacker they would never have the chance to meet. Chris's code name was Dude. Dude paid Wiz about 10 thousand green a month for dumps, all payments were transferred through a prepaid credit card called Green Dot.
When the team was assembled, Chris handed out cards to everyone, divided into classic cards with a low limit and gold and platinum cards with a high limit. They were supposed to stick to small spending on classic cards, up to five hundred bucks, and he constantly reminded them of this, with gold or platinum cards you could go wild, with amounts ranging from one to ten thousand dollars. All the girls were young, and for such beauties, walking into a boutique and buying a handbag for five hundred dollars without batting an eyelid was par for the course.
Then they would walk to the other side of the mall and do the same thing at a different store. And some time later, Chris would get excited text messages on his phone with a tour of the stores, can I use my American Express card at the new Bloomingdale's stores, or did I make seven grand on my Master Card, oh yeah. At the end of the day, Chris would meet the girls in the parking lot to pick up their purchases and immediately pay them their percentage.
He would give them 30% of the retail price of the items and carefully write down each item and its cost on a ledger, like a real businessman. Oh yeah, Chris's wife Clara also had a role in the team, reselling all the stolen goods on eBay. Of course, branded items like the Boar's Daughter, Huyuchi, or Philip in Captivity flew into the ice at a reduced price, in general, the money was flying like a river.
As soon as night fell at the Villa Siena, Chris and his company found themselves in a restaurant, they ordered a festive dinner and a bottle of good wine. As always, Chris paid for everything, and law-abiding Yankees paid for him, banks paid for the Yankees' losses, and for American banks, the financial damage from carding was like a shark and a fart in the sea. Inconspicuous as the advertisement of this hacker telegram channel, subscribe, I call its owner my son, which means this guy is close to me in spirit, link in the description.
In general, carding was a victimless crime, all the fraudulent tricks were paid for by soulless money factories, Max thought so too, sitting in a rented apartment in San Francisco. He bought a huge Sony TV with a diagonal of 65.5 inches, for him it was a symbol of financial success. Max's friends understood that he was deeply involved in something, but they kept quiet, once a month they traditionally gathered with hungry programmers, in a Chinese restaurant, Gin-Gin fell into an alto.
Everyone talked about their latest projects, and Max caught the silence with sadness in his eyes, and when everyone finished bragging, Max gave out mysterious "wow, guys, you're cool, I would also like to do something good." And only the power in cyberspace reminded him in the evenings that he was no longer an office plankton, he was a cybercriminal. And 10 pieces of green on the Green Dot card from a person located 700 kilometers from San Francisco clearly testified to this.
By that time, Chris had already learned to forge driver's licenses, which were also in good demand. From the influx of money, he began to go cuckoo. He got hooked on drugs again and started to penetrate the girlfriend of one of the girls working for him, and although his wife, probably because of the narrow shape of her eyes, did not notice this, Chris gradually lost his vigilance. Max, on the contrary, was always on the lookout and did not see how the income from my channel, and yet here and there he did screw up guys.
Remember when Max, after his second stint in prison, dropped in to stay with hungry programmers Chris Tashok and Seth Alves in the hut where he first downloaded Charity Measures? Well, as it turned out, that wasn't the only thing he downloaded there. It was half past six in the morning, it was just getting light outside, and suddenly the doorbell rang in Tashok's apartment. The caller was extremely persistent, he didn't take his hand off the doorbell, which made Chris get off his lazy IT ass.
After looking through the peephole, he immediately realized that the usual "the adults aren't home, it won't work" scheme, the feds were standing on the threshold, he'd have to open up. Opening the door, the long-haired blonde fed showed Chris a search warrant, and the FBI agent's entourage accompanying her went inside. The agents woke up a sleeping Seth Alves and ordered him and Chris to hang out on the living room couch before they began their search.
The blonde sat down on the couch next to Chris to explain what the FBI was doing in his house at this hour. Four months ago, the source code for the then-unreleased legendary first-person shooter Half-Life 2 was stolen from Valve Software computers in Bellevue. The source code spent some time circulating in RSC chats before it was leaked online. Half-Life 2 was perhaps the most anticipated game of all time, so the leaked source code sent the gaming world into a frenzy. The
federal woman explained that the FBI had tracked some of the hackers' activities, and one of the IP addresses led them to Tashok's house. The judge would have been softer on you if you had immediately admitted where the game's source code was, she was not shy about hinting at his guilt. Tashok, of course, denied any involvement in this case, but he remembered that MaxVision was running on one of his computers.
Upon hearing the name MaxVision, the agents literally tripped over each other in their desire to finish as quickly as possible and return to the office to prepare search warrants for Max's new apartment. They quickly took out all nine of Chris's computers, disks, and even an Xbox console, leaving the boys alone with their hard-ons. Overcoming the pain of federal humiliation, Tashok crawled to the phone and dialed Max, when Max heard about the upcoming he clearly understood that he was short of time. He reliably hid the hard drives and two laptops, and pre-microwaved all the CDs.
All incriminating information about him was encrypted, so even if the agents found these hard drives, they still would not have a single piece of evidence of hacking. But there was one thing. According to the terms of his supervised release, Max was not allowed to encrypt any personal data. Moreover, everything will be damn fine if he lets the FBI take all his computers.
The federal moles arrived, 20 of them, swarmed the apartment and started going through his stuff. Luckily, the moles were blind, all they got was a stack of CDs from the microwave, a dead hard drive, and a laptop with a virgin Windows as a distraction. They didn't find any of Max's stash, and this time they had nothing to charge Butler with.
The agents left without any evidence linking him to the Valve intrusion, or even a hint of what he and Aragon had done. It's not really known whether Butler stole the Half-Life 2 source code or not, whether he got away by accident or whether that was God's plan. This question haunts me, and Kevin Paulson, the legendary author of the book that I read to you with a smart look, and then you tell me in the comments "bro, you're a genius", and I reply "thanks, bro, I don't know" too.
Butler already did something similar with the source code of the third Quake during the attack on Bind, maybe he downloaded the source code of Half-Life, but did not upload it to the network, which means that someone else did it. In science, there is such a hypothesis as multiple discoveries. This is when a scientific discovery was made by several people at once, independently of each other, at about the same time. In this case, who was the first to promote his work or file a patent slippers, there are a lot of such examples and in hacking it works exactly the same way.
I call it multiple hacking, for example, two smart guys stole the source code of Valve independently of each other, who will get all the laurels correctly, the one who was accepted by the feds. Next, the noble servants of Themis help the hacker obtain a patent for his hack and issue a gift certificate for free food and accommodation in one of the prisons.
What could be more beautiful than power in cyberspace? The naive fed thinks that this is the power in his hands, just like the fates of carders from the planet. He digs into their dirty underwear, he is insidious and dangerous, he is a fed, the hope and support of a great country. But this is not power in cyberspace, guys, but just a pathetic mouse fuss, and while the fed watches the planet, Max Butler watches everyone at the same time, simultaneously cleaning out the newly-minted adepts of Boa.
Together with Chris, they thought for a long time about what to do, Max wanted to warn Crypt about Chris, but Oragon insisted that he not interfere. This secret would be their trump card, Max would be aware of everything that was happening in the bureau, anticipating their steps in advance. This is the true power in cyberspace, just like back then during the attack on Baing, but now he was as anonymous as possible.
Max stripped the carders under his control blind, he returned most of them to their mother's tit, and those who were assertive were left with nothing, because Chris's team entered the game. The dumps were stolen for the second time, which meant there was no time to waste. Damn Chris Oragon, a self-taught cybercriminal, a carder from God, if you like, for him carding was not an empty phrase, it was his craft, his business, his path to a new life.
Of course, he took the matter seriously, imagine a truly heavenly place, a luxury residential complex in Irvine, Orien County, California. Behind the gates, fountains were bubbling loudly in the well-kept courtyards, and local davalki were playfully splashing in four pools. Residents were carefreely enjoying life, relaxing in spas, working out in one of three available gyms.
And they did not think at all that in one of Christopher's luxurious apartments, Ragone would open a workshop for the production of counterfeit plastic and driver's licenses. His credit clones will become a real work of art, the duplicate will completely copy the original. Put your credit card next to it, and you will not notice the difference. Chris owes all this to the last four digits of the credit card number.
Remember, I said that in prestigious stores the cashier enters the last four digits of the card? This is a kind of foolproof protection, the fact is that the post-terminal memory has a standard algorithm for checking the check digit. When the last digits of the card number are entered on the keyboard, it actually checks the authenticity of the number recorded on the magnetic stripes and matches the number printed on the card. Realizing this, Chris invested his last $15,000 in credit card printing equipment.
What you see in this photo is Chris’s workspace, an artist’s studio hidden behind a dark curtain from the curious onlookers on the street. To understand how Chris counterfeited credit cards, we’ll need to call in Detective Bob Watts. God bless his federal soul! It all started with Chris taking a blank CR-80 card with a magnetic stripe and inserting it into a Fargo HDP-600 card reader, a $5,000 machine used to print corporate cards.
Using special software on his laptop, Chris would load the desired image and give the command to start printing. The printing process took about 48 seconds, and the HDP600 would first apply paint to the plastic surface, then a thin, clear laminate coating to protect it from abrasion and scratches. Then the Fargo would spit out a card, bright and shiny, indistinguishable from any other card in the country.
It could be a white-headed Orlands, or the gazing gaze of the Capital One logo, or the grim Centurion on the American Express card. The complexity of the image didn't matter, except that for the higher-limit cards, Chris used platinum- or gold-dyed CR-80s, which he bought in boxes of 100. Once Chris had a stack of freshly dyed plastic, he moved to the next step on the production line.
He used a monochrome printer to print a small amount on the back of the card, then, if the design called for a hologram, Chris would pull a sheet of Chinese knockoffs from the stack, cut out an oval or rounded rectangle, and apply it in the desired location. Next, a $2,000 QuickPrint Model 55 heat stamper would fuse the metal foil to the surface of the plastic. Now it was time to stamp out the cardholder information, expiration dates, and account numbers.
A hot stamping machine was used for this, it was a motorized wheel with a carousel of letters and numbers. Experienced Chinese carder Kuili demonstrates a similar hot stamping technique, the machine punched out one character at a time using silver or gold foil. This was an extremely routine job, since it was easy to screw up the plastic by misplacing the character or the distance between other elements of the card.
It is important to note that the credit card verification system does not check the customer's first and last name, which meant that Chris could punch in absolutely any values. On the cards he personally used, he preferred the pseudonym Christopher Anderson, he bothered so much that he even edited Max's dumps so that the magnetic strip matched the name on the front. Although this was not necessary at all, since, unlike the rest of the data, it was not used to calculate the CVV code.
The final step in making a fake credit card was two cherished swipes through the already proven MSR-206 for years, in order to write the dump to the magnetic strip, but that's it. Now Chris had a ready-made fake card in his hands, which almost completely duplicated the original. There was only one thing left to do, Chris had to assemble a team to sell the fake plastic, he immediately realized that young sexy girls cope with this task much better.
All these sluts had one thing in common - lack of money, and Chris skillfully used this, he had an unrivaled talent to sit on ears. He could easily meet a pretty girl in a restaurant and, as if nothing had happened, invite her to a party with his friends. She joined them in loud clubs and luxurious dinners, rode in a rented limousine, all this was generously polished with alcohol, she saw money, a lot of money, and no one even tried to fuck her.
Aragon seemed like a good friend to her, someone with money. Of course, sooner or later they would run to Reece and cry into his shirt, and the good daddy would offer them an easy job with an incredible paycheck, and they would, of course, accept.
So Chris recruited Nancy, a short girl with a tattoo of Love on her wrist, a pale girl with brown hair and brown eyes named Lynsey, a young Italian girl named Adriana, and Jamie, who worked as a waitress at the Khutoros restaurant in Newport Beach. The plastic sales team was almost complete, all that was left was to find a smart and responsible female to assign some of the administrative work to, like entering payroll or buying necessary things from stores.
Her name was Elizabeth, a beautiful girl who worked in the mortgage lending industry. None of the girls knew where Chris got the credit card information from, he called Max Wiz and introduced him to the girls as a super hacker they would never have the chance to meet. Chris's code name was Dude. Dude paid Wiz about 10 thousand green a month for dumps, all payments were transferred through a prepaid credit card called Green Dot.
When the team was assembled, Chris handed out cards to everyone, divided into classic cards with a low limit and gold and platinum cards with a high limit. They were supposed to stick to small spending on classic cards, up to five hundred bucks, and he constantly reminded them of this, with gold or platinum cards you could go wild, with amounts ranging from one to ten thousand dollars. All the girls were young, and for such beauties, walking into a boutique and buying a handbag for five hundred dollars without batting an eyelid was par for the course.
Then they would walk to the other side of the mall and do the same thing at a different store. And some time later, Chris would get excited text messages on his phone with a tour of the stores, can I use my American Express card at the new Bloomingdale's stores, or did I make seven grand on my Master Card, oh yeah. At the end of the day, Chris would meet the girls in the parking lot to pick up their purchases and immediately pay them their percentage.
He would give them 30% of the retail price of the items and carefully write down each item and its cost on a ledger, like a real businessman. Oh yeah, Chris's wife Clara also had a role in the team, reselling all the stolen goods on eBay. Of course, branded items like the Boar's Daughter, Huyuchi, or Philip in Captivity flew into the ice at a reduced price, in general, the money was flying like a river.
As soon as night fell at the Villa Siena, Chris and his company found themselves in a restaurant, they ordered a festive dinner and a bottle of good wine. As always, Chris paid for everything, and law-abiding Yankees paid for him, banks paid for the Yankees' losses, and for American banks, the financial damage from carding was like a shark and a fart in the sea. Inconspicuous as the advertisement of this hacker telegram channel, subscribe, I call its owner my son, which means this guy is close to me in spirit, link in the description.
In general, carding was a victimless crime, all the fraudulent tricks were paid for by soulless money factories, Max thought so too, sitting in a rented apartment in San Francisco. He bought a huge Sony TV with a diagonal of 65.5 inches, for him it was a symbol of financial success. Max's friends understood that he was deeply involved in something, but they kept quiet, once a month they traditionally gathered with hungry programmers, in a Chinese restaurant, Gin-Gin fell into an alto.
Everyone talked about their latest projects, and Max caught the silence with sadness in his eyes, and when everyone finished bragging, Max gave out mysterious "wow, guys, you're cool, I would also like to do something good." And only the power in cyberspace reminded him in the evenings that he was no longer an office plankton, he was a cybercriminal. And 10 pieces of green on the Green Dot card from a person located 700 kilometers from San Francisco clearly testified to this.
By that time, Chris had already learned to forge driver's licenses, which were also in good demand. From the influx of money, he began to go cuckoo. He got hooked on drugs again and started to penetrate the girlfriend of one of the girls working for him, and although his wife, probably because of the narrow shape of her eyes, did not notice this, Chris gradually lost his vigilance. Max, on the contrary, was always on the lookout and did not see how the income from my channel, and yet here and there he did screw up guys.
Remember when Max, after his second stint in prison, dropped in to stay with hungry programmers Chris Tashok and Seth Alves in the hut where he first downloaded Charity Measures? Well, as it turned out, that wasn't the only thing he downloaded there. It was half past six in the morning, it was just getting light outside, and suddenly the doorbell rang in Tashok's apartment. The caller was extremely persistent, he didn't take his hand off the doorbell, which made Chris get off his lazy IT ass.
After looking through the peephole, he immediately realized that the usual "the adults aren't home, it won't work" scheme, the feds were standing on the threshold, he'd have to open up. Opening the door, the long-haired blonde fed showed Chris a search warrant, and the FBI agent's entourage accompanying her went inside. The agents woke up a sleeping Seth Alves and ordered him and Chris to hang out on the living room couch before they began their search.
The blonde sat down on the couch next to Chris to explain what the FBI was doing in his house at this hour. Four months ago, the source code for the then-unreleased legendary first-person shooter Half-Life 2 was stolen from Valve Software computers in Bellevue. The source code spent some time circulating in RSC chats before it was leaked online. Half-Life 2 was perhaps the most anticipated game of all time, so the leaked source code sent the gaming world into a frenzy. The
federal woman explained that the FBI had tracked some of the hackers' activities, and one of the IP addresses led them to Tashok's house. The judge would have been softer on you if you had immediately admitted where the game's source code was, she was not shy about hinting at his guilt. Tashok, of course, denied any involvement in this case, but he remembered that MaxVision was running on one of his computers.
Upon hearing the name MaxVision, the agents literally tripped over each other in their desire to finish as quickly as possible and return to the office to prepare search warrants for Max's new apartment. They quickly took out all nine of Chris's computers, disks, and even an Xbox console, leaving the boys alone with their hard-ons. Overcoming the pain of federal humiliation, Tashok crawled to the phone and dialed Max, when Max heard about the upcoming he clearly understood that he was short of time. He reliably hid the hard drives and two laptops, and pre-microwaved all the CDs.
All incriminating information about him was encrypted, so even if the agents found these hard drives, they still would not have a single piece of evidence of hacking. But there was one thing. According to the terms of his supervised release, Max was not allowed to encrypt any personal data. Moreover, everything will be damn fine if he lets the FBI take all his computers.
The federal moles arrived, 20 of them, swarmed the apartment and started going through his stuff. Luckily, the moles were blind, all they got was a stack of CDs from the microwave, a dead hard drive, and a laptop with a virgin Windows as a distraction. They didn't find any of Max's stash, and this time they had nothing to charge Butler with.
The agents left without any evidence linking him to the Valve intrusion, or even a hint of what he and Aragon had done. It's not really known whether Butler stole the Half-Life 2 source code or not, whether he got away by accident or whether that was God's plan. This question haunts me, and Kevin Paulson, the legendary author of the book that I read to you with a smart look, and then you tell me in the comments "bro, you're a genius", and I reply "thanks, bro, I don't know" too.
Butler already did something similar with the source code of the third Quake during the attack on Bind, maybe he downloaded the source code of Half-Life, but did not upload it to the network, which means that someone else did it. In science, there is such a hypothesis as multiple discoveries. This is when a scientific discovery was made by several people at once, independently of each other, at about the same time. In this case, who was the first to promote his work or file a patent slippers, there are a lot of such examples and in hacking it works exactly the same way.
I call it multiple hacking, for example, two smart guys stole the source code of Valve independently of each other, who will get all the laurels correctly, the one who was accepted by the feds. Next, the noble servants of Themis help the hacker obtain a patent for his hack and issue a gift certificate for free food and accommodation in one of the prisons.
