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As Mistah X taunted James, his IMs filling the screen, James called Amy: He had the creep online. They talked about calling the cops, but no sooner had James said the words than the hacker reprimanded him. The task of hunting him down fell to agents Tanith Rogers and Jeff Kirkpatrick of the FBI's cyber program in Los Angeles."I know you're talking to each other right now! James's throat constricted; how did the stalker know what he was saying? Since its founding in 2002, the program's cyber squads have worked out of a cluttered, bustling office on Wilshire Boulevard, a maze of cubicles that looks more like the office of a video-game company than of a federal agency.For the next couple of weeks, the girls remained watchful for malware, insidious software capable of wreaking all sorts of havoc.
The house was quiet, save the keyboard tapping in the girls' rooms, when the odd little instant message popped up on Melissa's screen—an IM from Suzy.At first they figured it was some kind of malfunction, but when it happened repeatedly—the light flicking on, then off—the girls felt a chill. The more ubiquitous cameras become, the less we're aware they're even there. She ran into her bathroom and slammed the door behind her.One by one, they gazed fearfully into the lenses, wondering if someone was watching and if, perhaps now, they were looking into the eye of something scary after all. They stare out at us blankly from our phones and laptops, our Xboxes and i Pads, a billion eyes and ears just waiting to be turned on. As she pleaded for the police to come quickly, she reached into the shower and cranked the water all the way up, hoping the hacker couldn't hear her.Attached to the note was a file labeled simply SCARY. Yeah, the IM had come from her account, but she hadn't sent it. That night, Suzy's 20-year-old friend Nila Westwood got the same note, the same attachment. When she called her friend to see what she'd missed, things actually got freaky: Suzy'd never sent a thing.Melissa wondered why her goof-off sister was IM'ing from the next room instead of just padding over—she wasn't usually that lazy—so she walked over to see what was up. Unlike Melissa, she opened it, expecting, say, a video of some guy stapling his lip to his chin on You Tube. The girls pieced together the clues and agreed: Suzy's AOL account had been hacked.