Misdirection

EPISODE 1

The night was cold and dank.  One of those nights where the mist from the man-hole covers creates a fog that rolls down the street and smells like unseated memory chips.  Nothing was moving, and nobody was around.  The intersection was completely vacant.  During the day this place is busy with bustling vehicle and pedestrian traffic, but at night it is strikingly empty.

Only the solitaire, cool, beeping of an ATM could be heard, as its user finished his transaction.  It was late, or early depending on how you look at it.  He still had five more credit cards to cash-out before midnight.  See, midnight was special.  That is the time when the bank reset it's withdraw limits.  If he makes his withdraws before and after midnight he can steal twice as much dough.

"I can't believe how easy this is." he thought, stuffing the cash from the last transaction into his coat pocket.

He smirked and then fumbled through the remaining stack of cards he had programmed that night.  People don't realize that the information stored on a credit card is not encrypted.  So, all someone needs is a magnetic card writer, a list of card numbers, and a bit of free time.

He took the next card and nudged it into the ATM.

"8-6-6-3" he pressed on the keyboard.  

The number made him smile.  That was the same number he had used all night.

"Kevin Mitnick's birthday," he snickered.

"bleeep."

"Insufficient funds?"  He thought.  

But, he had been making withdraws of $100 dollars all night?

"Check Available Balance" he pushed into the keyboard.  

"Bleep-bleep-bleep." the machine groaned.

"You have $47.09 funds available."  

"Huh?  Must have burned that one up." he concluded.