We are anonymous inside the hacker world of lulzse

opposite of Kayla. And yet there was the Metropolitan Police statement in an article titled “Youth Arrested under Computer Misuse Act” that
added that computer equipment had been taken in for analysis.
“If that’s really him, I’m really worried now,” Topiary said at the time. “I’m on the same ISP as him and everything.” Topiary was on a
twelve-month contract with his Internet service provider, and he couldn’t afford to break the clause by paying for the entire year.
Topiary saw a pattern with the arrests. He went to Sabu and suggested that Ryan and Tflow might have been on the police’s radar for
months but were arrested only after a big U.K. hit, Ryan after the SOCA attack, Tflow after the Sun (though he had not taken part in the
hack). Since several LulzSec members were located in Britain, “we should stop hitting U.K. targets now,” Topiary said.
Sabu was indifferent. “So it’s ok for us to stop U.K. targets because you gimps are in the U.K., but not to stop hitting USA targets because
I’m in the U.S.A.? Thanks.” Topiary gritted his teeth. He felt he had a right to be worried, considering that he was in the U.K. too when the
arrests had occurred, but Sabu was suggesting it was selfish to avoid British targets.
“I’ve missed you, brother,” Sabu then added, before asking if Topiary might give him the password to the LulzSec Twitter feed. Topiary
declined and left the chat room.
Topiary hated to admit it, but the lulz were slowly coming to an end. The music had stopped; the harsh lighting had flickered back on. By the
time LulzSec officially ended in late June, police across eight countries, including the United States, Britain, Spain, and Turkey, had arrested
seventy-nine people in connection with activities carried out under the names Anonymous and LulzSec. Most of the arrested were male, and
the average age about twenty-four. Being part of the large crowd hadn’t helped. Fourteen, including twenty-year-old Mercedes “No” Haefer,
had been arrested for taking part in the LOIC attacks on PayPal and were now on trial.
As people increasingly saw Anonymous and Antisec as a movement, the people arrested were painted as martyrs. The absurdity of the
pranks had evolved into an exaggerated significance, even delusions of grandeur, but its shaky foundations were revealed when people like
Ryan finally had to confront the grim faces of a courtroom. People like Topiary and even William had joined 4chan, Anonymous, Antisec, or
LulzSec for the lulz, but stayed when it looked like they were part of something even greater that they could not put into words.
On July 27, seven days after Tflow’s arrest, two officers from the Metropolitan Police got out of a four-seater private plane they had hired
for about £8,000 and walked gingerly down its steel steps onto the asphalt below. The sun was shining and there was a slight breeze. They
were met by local Scottish police officers, who rarely had much crime to deal with, let alone a chance to meet their counterparts from
London. The two officers got into a car and were driven down the island’s narrow, winding roads.
Topiary was in his gaming chair, his laptop on his knees, his mind on other things. He faintly heard a car driving near his house and the
whine of brakes as it came to a stop. Then the sound of several car doors opening and shutting in a series. He stopped what he was doing,
lifting his fingers from the keyboard. He looked over toward the front door, willing it to stay silent. His heart started to pound. There was a
long moment of quiet and the sweet, merciful possibility that car had been for his neighbors. Then there was a knock.
Part 3
Unmasked
Chapter 25
The Real Topiary
Call it a gut feeling or common sense, but as soon as he heard that knock on the door, Jake knew it was the police. He clung to one hope:
that they had not come to arrest him. Police conducted raids around his neighborhood all the time, thanks to the druggies. There was every
possibility they were just doing another sweep.
When he opened the door, six plain-clothed people were standing on his doorstep.
“We’re with the Metropolitan Police,” one of them said. “We’re here to search this address.”
In the hope that they were looking for drugs, he asked, “What for?”
“Computer equipment.”
Jake’s heart sank. If Aaron Barr had ever hoped one of his adversaries would experience the same kind of dread he had felt less than a year
earlier, Jake just had.
“Are you Jake Davis?” one of them asked after they had all flashed badges and identified themselves. Jake nodded. “Yes.” They added
that they were also there to arrest him.
“What for?” Jake asked.
“Conspiracy to DDoS the Serious Organised Crime Agency.” Jake waited for them to mention something else, but they did not. It almost
seemed like the DDoS attack on SOCA had been the final straw that made the authorities fly all the way up to the Shetland Islands.
There were no handcuffs, no guns; there was no shouting, just polite conversation that made the encounter completely surreal. A woman