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Ordinary Citizens Become Cyber-spies
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Reuters 1998


Ryan Anderson was arrested in 1998 when he was spotted with a rifle near an elementary school near Everett, Wash.


By Mike Carter


SEATTLE TIMES


CONRAD, Mont. - Shannen Rossmiller finds early mornings are best for hunting terrorists.


When it's 4 a.m. in this one-stoplight prairie town, it's 3 p.m. in, say, Karachi, Pakistan, the sweltering hours just before the evening call to prayer. That's when Rossmiller, while her husband and three children sleep, finds the Internet chat rooms and bulletin boards frequented by radical Muslims and jihad warriors are busiest.


It is when Rossmiller pursues her deadly serious hobby: Citizen cyber-spy.


Since the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, the Internet has become sprinkled with self-proclaimed intelligence agents and freelance threat analysts like Rossmiller - ordinary civilians who comb Web sites and chat rooms for hints of the enemy's next move. The phenomenon, propelled by the Internet's anonymity and worldwide reach, is unique to the war on terrorism.


A dangerous business


A few, like Rossmiller, take their pastime further.


Unencumbered by bureaucracy or by laws requiring warrants or prohibiting entrapment, she and a few others freely infiltrate the enemy's lairs and assess what they find there. In some cases, they even disrupt communications or get people arrested.


But spying can be dangerous business, even more so when the government doesn't officially condone or even know about it. Experts say citizen cyberspies can stumble into risky situations or get in the way of law enforcement. But they also acknowledge people like Rossmiller have good intentions - and, occasionally, good luck.


So it was that, on one of Rossmiller's trawls through Web sites with names like bravemuslim.com - a sight no longer active - last fall, she came across a posting by a man calling himself Amir Abdul Rashid. It was clear from the message that Rashid was edging toward the violent fringes of Islam.


Over time, it also became apparent to her that he was an American soldier.


Posing as an Algerian with ties to that country's outlawed Armed Islamic Group, she sent Rashid an e-mail with the subject line "A Call to Jihad." Rashid responded by asking if it was possible that a "brother fighting on the wrong side could defect."


A reluctant star


Over a period of four months, Rossmiller drew out Rashid through a series of 27 e-mails. She learned, with growing alarm, that he was a National Guardsman about to be deployed to Iraq. And he appeared willing to share information on American troop vulnerabilities with the enemy. Rossmiller provided the information to the Department of Homeland Security, which passed it to the FBI and the Army.


The arrest in that case of Ryan Anderson, 26, a troubled Muslim convert and a specialist in the Washington state National Guard's 81st Armor Brigade, was splashed across the country's newspapers in February. It was a direct result of Rossmiller's work, and she is expected to be the reluctant star witness at his pending court-martial. She testified in a preliminary hearing last month.


Until that hearing, almost nobody in Conrad (population 2,753) knew of Rossmiller's avocation. Townsfolk learned about it only after a wire story appeared in the Great Falls Tribune.


Taking it to the next level


Rossmiller said she never wanted the publicity - all she wanted was to help stop terrorists. Now, people stop her at the grocery and wave her down at the local coffee shop to thank or congratulate her.


When asked, however, nobody's quite sure how she got involved or exactly what she did.


"I don't think people really know what to think of this," Rossmiller said.


Even before being outed as a cyber-spy, Rossmiller was a high-profile member of this farming community. She's the town judge, a paralegal who was appointed to the post four years ago.


Rossmiller said there is no mystery to how and why she developed her avocation. It traces to Tuesday morning, Sept. 11, 2001.


She was bedridden with a fractured pelvis and felt helpless as the terrorists attacked.


"I had to do something," Rossmiller said over lattes and lunch at the Lobby, a kitschy restaurant two doors down from the city offices on Main Street.


She started pulling random items out of her purse: her checkbook, a wallet, a key fob, all adorned with the American flag. "This is who I am," she said. "When President Bush asked for a dollar for the Afghan children's fund, I sent $100. I can't help it.


"Besides, my husband wouldn't let me join the National Guard."


Her interest in the attacks led her to the Internet, where, in discussion groups and on bulletin boards, she met others driven to know more about those responsible.


It wasn't long before she and a few others formed a loose-knit group. Alliances evolved over time. The goal, however, was clear from the start: Disrupt terrorists. The group called itself 7Seas Global Intelligence Security Team, and its research began extending beyond the day's headlines.


"By the time things hit the mainstream media, a deed was pretty much done," explained Brent Astley, an unemployed physicist and software designer near Toronto, and a member of the 7Seas team. "We decided to take it to the next level."


Hard claim to measure


Occasionally, the group takes its findings public. On May 12, 2002, 7Seas posted a news release stating it had correctly warned of bombings that day in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, that killed an Australian man. The group referenced a rough and garbled translation of an Arabic Web site that 7Seas had posted four days earlier on itshappen ing.com.


Rossmiller said she and others have developed contacts in intelligence agencies in several countries, and have passed on significant information.


It's hard to measure her claim. The Department of Justice did not respond to requests to discuss 7Seas or the private-intelligence phenomenon. Likewise, the Canadian Security Intelligence Service declined to comment.


But FBI spokesman Bob Wright, a special agent in Salt Lake City - the field office responsible for FBI activities in Montana - said the agency would not discourage individuals like Rossmiller.


"We've always relied on our good relationship with citizens as our eyes and ears in the community," Wright said. "This is just a new twist on an old theme. It's sort of like a cyber Neighborhood Watch."


http://www.dailystar.com/dailystar/news/26816.php

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Ordinary Citizens Become Cyber-spies - by Abunuran - 06-30-2004, 02:58 AM

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