This man received his dream car as a gift from the infamous hacker he had incarcerated.

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      If you're a car enthusiast, you likely have a fantastical car dream. Perhaps you encounter a spiteful divorcee who gives away their ex's beloved ride, or maybe the person whose tire you’re fixing turns out to be a billionaire who generously gifts you a car you've always wanted because it’s just sitting there, collecting dust. Your act of kindness is worth a Dodge Viper to someone who can afford extravagant luxuries.

      Admittedly, that dream might belong to me.

      As appealing as these scenarios may seem, they are rare in reality. The first example that comes to mind—Rob Gordon, portrayed by John Cusack, receiving a vinyl collection from a wronged ex in “High Fidelity“—didn't make it into the final cut of the film, which includes a ridiculous fantasy where the same character imagines coworkers beating an obnoxious Tim Robbins with an air conditioner (Feel free to click that; I know you want to).

      Don't worry; while no one gets harmed in this tale, it’s still quite extraordinary. Knowing Kevin Mitnick will help. He was a hacker who later became a security consultant and played a significant role in shaping modern white-hat hacking. How typical was Mitnick's story? He gained notoriety in 1979 by breaking into a software company's server and downloading its entire upcoming operating system. Just picture convincing a Microsoft server to release an early version of Windows 12 with just a phone number.

      Some critiques suggest that Mitnick was more of a social engineer than a traditional “hacker” in today's terms, but much of “hacking” still depends on an authorized user making a mistake—often by sharing sensitive login information. For a realistic depiction of contemporary black-hatting, check out Mr. Robot; just be aware that it deals with heavy themes.

      So, how do we go from being an old-school hacker to a wild car dream? Through 14 counts of felony wire fraud, of course. Enter Shawn Nunley.

      In the ’90s, Nunley was working for Novell, a now-defunct company known for its enterprise software—like server operating systems and messaging systems. While GroupWise might be its most recognizable product today, the real prize back then was NetWare, which served as the backbone for many corporate, government, and academic networks. Hence, it was a prime target for a hacker like Mitnick.

      “Back in the 90s, Kevin was making serious attempts to infiltrate Novell’s network,” Nunley recounted. “I was the network administrator, and while we didn't know it was him, signs indicated we had a persistent threat—phones ringing sequentially throughout the building (war dialing) along with other unusual activities… we sensed something was off.”

      This was Mitnick, employing a more advanced version of the same techniques that led to his first major achievement in 1979.

      “One night, I received a call from a Novell employee named Gabe Nault,” Nunley said. “The ‘employee’ was requesting direct inbound dial access. Since I handled the network's inbound connectivity, I recognized this request as unusual and against our policy.”

      Mitnick, having skillfully gleaned some information from Novell employees before his desperate phone call, had a fabricated story ready:

      “…this person claimed he was involved in a top-secret project called Snowbird (which was real) and needed urgent code changes while vacationing in Vail,” Nunley continued. “He demanded the coveted, policy-bending direct inbound modem access. Right. He even referenced his Vail vacation, which coincidentally aligned with Gabe Nault’s voicemail greeting. However, it all felt off.”

      “As suspicion crept in, I remained calm,” Nunley wrote. “I told him, ‘I'd love to help, but I can't do what you ask from home, so I'll have to do it in the morning when I get to the office. But please leave me a voicemail so I remember.’ He agreed, and that was that.”

      “When I arrived at work, the voicemail was waiting, and I promptly recorded it onto a cassette for safekeeping,” he mentioned. “That recording became the key evidence in Kevin’s case.”

      When Mitnick was apprehended, Nunley discovered that the voicemail was the only substantial evidence the Justice Department had against him. Initially supportive of the prosecution, after five years of trial postponements, Nunley grew disillusioned with how the law was treating his opponent and withdrew his cooperation with the DOJ. Soon after, Mitnick accepted a plea deal and was released.

      Upon his release, Mitnick reached out to Nunley to express his apologies. Their reconciliation was even documented by Wired, leading to a lasting friendship.

      Mitnick was prohibited from profiting from his story for seven years post-release, a measure designed to prevent financial gain from