Police Want Site More Than Web Address for Escaped Calif. Hacker By Rene Sanchez Washington Post Staff Writer Thursday, December 10, 1998; Page A2 HOLLYWOOD - Agent Steal is on the run, again. His real name is Justin Petersen, and before he got in trouble with the law, back when he was at the top of his trade, he did what stars here do: stalk the bars of Sunset Strip, live large, always get the girl. It hardly mattered that he was a thief, a computer hacker who tapped his keyboard until it led him to other people's riches. In Hollywood, charm and a rebel's pose go a long way, and Petersen, whose code name in cyberspace is Agent Steal, had both. But today, a few years after he was jailed for an array of clever computer crimes, the 38-year-old Petersen is a fugitive. And for the second time he is fleeing the authorities whom he once helped to catch some of the nation's other notorious computer hackers. Petersen bolted from a halfway house here weeks ago while serving the final part of a sentence for schemes that included electronically swiping $150,000 from a Glendale, Calif., bank. He also rigged local radio call-in contests through his computer to guarantee that his phone number would be the winner. "Justin is an unusual person," said Jay Lichtman, his former attorney. "He has, uh, talents." The hunt for Petersen is one part of a larger battle that law enforcement officials across California are waging now against computer hackers, who seem as attracted to the West as the outlaws of old. Computer use is higher here than in many other states, and by all accounts hacking is on the rise. "We're dealing with more pranks and more sophisticated schemes," said Chris Painter, an assistant U.S. attorney in Los Angeles who specializes in computer crimes. Federal agents in Los Angeles recently busted a ring of hackers who had been "phone freaking," their slang for sabotaging someone's telephone service with extreme measures, such as forwarding their calls somewhere so their line never rings. Next spring, Kevin Mitnick, the only hacker ever to make the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list, will face trial here on charges that include stealing thousands of credit card numbers. Last month near San Francisco, two teenagers were convicted of the most serious hack ever into U.S. military computers. As part of their sentence, a judge hit them where it hurt: They were banned from having any contact with computers. And now federal marshals are roaming the dark, chic bars along Sunset Boulevard in hope of nabbing Petersen before he strikes again. To many here, he is a quintessential Hollywood character: He grew up in a broken home in Lincoln, Neb., lived for a while in Montgomery County, Md., then headed west to Los Angeles with big dreams. It wasn't long before he began using extraordinary computer skills to raid banks and credit card companies of cash to fuel his fast-lane life, authorities say. No computer geek, Petersen grew his hair rock-star long, dated beautiful women, ran a few clubs on Sunset under aliases and cruised the Hollywood hills on motorcycles or in sports cars. A few years ago, after winning a light sentence in exchange for helping the government nail even bigger players in the hacker underground, Petersen ducked out of a routine court hearing and disappeared. He was on the loose for 10 months, and he launched another wave of lucrative hacking sprees. Ironically, one of the hackers who led federal agents to Petersen had been caught earlier as a result of Petersen's tips. Even Petersen's capture back then is storied: He was apprehended after a foot chase through the streets of Hollywood in which he gave federal agents a good run even though he is missing half of his left leg (he lost it in a motorcycle crash on Sunset Boulevard). Now, back on the lam, Petersen is once more the talk of the hipster precincts in Hollywood he used to haunt and the hacking culture that seems to view him with admiration and scorn. "They had a chance to get him here, but we haven't seen him since the marshals starting hanging out," said a manager who refused to give her name at the Rainbow Bar and Grill on Sunset, where Petersen and his computer cronies have long held court. "He's a very smart guy, always up to something, always trying to impress women with his computer knowledge; and it usually worked, believe it or not. We're all wondering how it will turn out for him this time." Even as a fugitive, Petersen apparently has not been able to resist responding to curiosity over his whereabouts. Shortly after a few reporters in Los Angeles left messages for him recently - his answering machine simply said, "I'm gone, baby" - a lengthy note bearing his name appeared on what had been his Web site. It said that he was working overseas. And it delivered a mix of bravado, anger and apprehension. "Alas, rest assured I am somewhere having fun with a nice-looking lady, enjoying the first freedom I have felt in some time," the note said. It went on to state that Petersen fled because of a "personality conflict" he had with his probation officer as well as the reluctance of courts to give him the flexibility and help he needs to set his life straight and begin to pay about $40,000 in fines that he still owes the government for his crimes. At a court hearing shortly before he vanished, Petersen requested that he be allowed to come and go as he pleased at a halfway house and to use computers to find a job, which he said was difficult with his particular criminal record. But a judge, suspicious of why Petersen wanted to use computers late at night, instead ordered him to be in his room at the halfway house by 9 p.m., no modems allowed. He was also required to start psychological counseling. In a matter of days, Petersen was gone. Yet his recent note suggested he has been thinking about turning himself in and serving a bit more time in jail. It also contained a not-so-subtle threat to those in the press interested in telling his tale. "Report responsibly," it warns. "Your life history and financial records are only keystrokes away." On the Internet, there are more than a few cheers for Petersen, but others are saying his act has grown tiresome. Kevin Poulson, a hacker who claims that Petersen once tipped off the federal agents to his own computer crimes, has written a flurry of Internet columns lately that assess Agent Steal's new caper. In one, he ripped Petersen as an "aging Lothario" desperate to regain the rogue glory of his flamboyant hacker past. As the chase goes on, a movie, of course, is in the works. It focuses on the crimes and the capture of the legendary hacker Mitnick, but apparently there will also be a key character based on Petersen. And from somewhere, Agent Steal has already sent word that he is not happy with the script. © Copyright 1998 The Washington Post Company