Show Notes

The following presentation may not be suitable for young children. Listener discretion is advised.

COLD OPEN

A quick note before we get going: This is Part 2 of a two-part series on The Silk Road. If you haven’t listened to Part 1 yet, jump back and listen to that one first. We’ll be here when you get back. And, with that said, here we go:

On January 17th, 2013, Curtis Green woke up around 11 am and started his morning routine.

Brewed coffee? Check.

Shower and shave? Check.

Leisurely morning soap show? Check. It was his guilty pleasure.

It was around 1 pm by the time he sat himself down in front of his clunky 90’s computer monitors and powered everything up in preparation for his shift on The Silk Road.

Curtis Green, who used the handle Chronic Pain on the darknet site, began using drugs from the Silk Road to help him manage his back pain after retiring from the postal service.

It didn’t take long for Green to start doling out drug advice in his free time, and DPR was quick to offer him a job. At $800 a week, it was more money than Green had ever made, and he readily accepted.

Once the monitor beeped to life, Green navigated to the Silk Road and punched in his login info. Instead of loading Green’s homepage, an error message popped up: Acct Unauthorized.

Green felt a jolt of panic. The time was already 1:04, and DPR hated when anyone was late. He tried to login again, but the same error message popped up.

Shit, Green mumbled. Why couldn’t he get online? It’s not like he could call DPR on his landline- Green didn’t have that sort of access to the site’s creator.

Then, there was a knock at the front door, so light that Green almost missed it. He wondered who it might be and hunkered from his computer to his front window to check. Outside, Green watched as a man dressed in jeans and a plain tee walked from his porch to a white van and sped off.

A delivery? Green wondered. Maybe for Millie?

He opened the front door and found a plain brown package addressed to him. Before opening it, he already knew where it had come from. Basic postage, no return address; it was from the Silk Road.

But Green hadn’t ordered anything, had he? He was always forgetting stuff, or so his wife Millie told him. He wasn’t sure what the package could be, but he brought the box inside, wondering if it was something secret sent by DPR or the Doctor.

As soon as Green dropped the box onto his coffee table, he knew there was a problem. A plume of white powder puffed from the box, coating his table and hands. Curious, he touched the tip of his tongue to the dust on his hand. The taste was metallic and sharp, and he immediately knew it was cocaine.

What the hell.

Curtis tugged at the packaging tape, feeling panic jolt his limbs. More white powder came cascading out.

A loud bang at the door stopped his heart.

Police, open up!

Curtis felt his voice get lodged in his throat. He desperately wiped his hands on his shirt, feeling sweat drip down his face and upper lip. He needed to stall.

Uh, one minute, Green shouted. He needed to change or jump in a pool, but there was another knock. He was out of time.

With a boom, the door busted off its hinges. Wood splintered everywhere as men in SWAT gear stomped into Green’s home, shoving AK-47’s in his face.

Get on the floor! Hands on top of your head! Curtis Green, you’re under arrest for illegal possession of cocaine.

Green, covered in cocaine,obeyed. As a pair of cold metal handcuffs tightened around his wrists, Curtis Green realized he was seriously fucked.

On this episode: crooked cops, a death warrant and the long arm of justice. I’m Keith Korneluk, and this is Modem Mischief.

You’re listening to Modem Mischief. This is part two in the story of the Silk Road.

ACT 1

19 hours. It had been 19 hours since Inigo told Ross that someone had stolen over $300,000 from the Silk Road account. 19 hours and Ross hadn’t been able to eat or sleep. He stared blankly at the screen, refreshing it every few minutes like a crack fiend waiting for an update.

What was taking Inigo so long? Could it be that hard to chase down the dirty thief?

With each passing second, Ross felt the walls of his studio apartment closing in on him, suffocating him. Questions and insecurities pinged around his mind. Who would ever dare to betray him? Dare to steal from The Silk Road?

19 hours and 23 minutes later, Ross’s computer beeped with an update from Inigo.

DPR, we got him, man. Chronic Pain was the one who stole the money, his message wrote. We already blocked his access to The Road.

Reading the message made Ross furious and put him at ease. Of course, Ross was mad but Chronic Pain, known in real life as Curtis Green, was a nobody compared to DPR. At least now, Ross knew that Green was locked out, but he was amazed at the disloyalty. Did he think that he could steal from the business that Ross risked everything to build? That Ross put everything on the line for? It was unacceptable.f

But that wasn’t all.

There’s more, Inigo messaged, followed by an encrypted link. Ross clicked it and was led to an article detailing Curtis Green’s arrest and his activities on The Silk Road.

The article made Ross’s body go cold. Green had been an administrator on the Silk Road. He knew a lot about the site and about DPR. Ross’s mind was flooded with more questions and aggression. What did Green tell the police? Was he planning on working with them to bring down the Silk Road?

The fury and the fear bubbled up, and Ross started firing messages off in a group chat with his top-level admins. He needed to vent and figure out a plan.

The group agreed that booting Green off the site wouldn’t be enough. Not by a long shot. There would need to be other consequences. That is when Ross thought of his friend from the site who went by the handle Nob.

Nob joined the Silk Road as a seller sometime in 2012 and immediately started raking in five-star reviews. Nob marketed himself as a highly connected seller and personal enforcement specialist even though it was against the Silk Road Code to hire hits through the site.

By the end of 2012, Nob and Ross had gotten close. So close, in fact, that Nob offered to start selling top-secret police investigation info garnered from his personal informant to DPR. Ross had agreed though the information hadn’t amounted to much. At the very least, it proved to Ross that Nob was legit and that he could be trusted.  

After a three-hour discussion with his admin group, Ross finally reached out to his friend Nob with an off-market request.

Nob, I have a favor to ask. Ross sent. Hit me when you can.

Nob immediately answered. What’s going on?

Ross wanted to keep things professional, stick to the facts. I had a worker steal some money from me, he typed. I’m worried he’s going to talk to the cops.

Nob’s message back was instant. Oh, shit. That’s whack. What can I do to help?

Ross smiled. This was exactly the response that he was hoping for. His followers and fans on the Silk Road were so loyal. All he had to do was ask, and his wish was their command. I want to have him dealt with, Ross typed.

The words felt a little strange. He never had to deal with anyone. But he also had never run a billion-dollar international drug business either.

Nob’s message came back quickly. It read: Sure, Captain. What do you want done to him? Beat up, paid a visit, executed, robbed?

Beat up, please, Ross replied. Make sure to tell Green that I want the bitcoin returned and that he better keep his mouth fucking shut. He sent the message and realized his hands were shaking with anger. Even thinking about Green made him see red.

Nob messaged back. It’ll run you $8k, and I’ll need an address.

Ross wasn’t worried about the address. His mentor, Variety Jones, told DPR to start collecting drivers’ licenses for all his employees. Just in case. He was a smart one, that Variety Jones. What Ross wanted to know was how quickly Nob could deal with Green.

How long before you can get someone over there? Ross wanted to know.

The seconds it took Nob to answer felt like a lifetime.

I have some guys who can get it done in the next 24 hours. Nob replied. I’ll send proof once it’s finished.

Okay. Let’s do it. Ross, his enter and the message sent. Ross felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

Ross sent Nob the driver’s license and tried to relax. He was a problem solver, and this was the best way for DPR to solve the problem without getting his hands messy. With Green taken care of, no one would fuck with DPR and his empire again; he was sure of it.

But the longer he sat alone in his apartment, the less he could convince himself that everything was okay.

What if he was too late and Green already blabbed about something important to the police? No, Ross reasoned, if Green had told them anything, they would already be knocking his door down. Or what if they were waiting for something? A warrant? Something else?

Originally planning on taking the night off, Ross decided to work. Coding was a great distraction when he needed it to be, and he needed to get his mind off Green.

It was around 1 am when a message from Variety Jones popped up in Ross’s inbox.

How you holding up, man? VJ asked.

Ross was relieved. Variety Jones was someone Ross could be himself with.

I’ve been better, Ross responded. You hear about the shit going down?

He sprinkled weed into a bowl he kept near his workstation atop a towering mess of paper and crumpled McDonald’s bags. He lit the bowl and inhaled, immediately lightheaded from the smoke in his lungs.

Yeah, I heard, everyone’s heard. VJ messaged. Even some buyers.

Fuck, Ross yelled. Green was making DPR look like an idiot. The chatter would make people jumpy, and there would definitely be fallout from the rumors. Now, Green was messing with his bottom line. The revelation helped Ross feel less guilty about the punishment he inflicted.

Another message dinged.

Also, at what point do we cancel people? VJ asked.

Ross stared at the message, his brain a little cloudy from the weed. Cancel? Could that mean what Ross thought it meant?

Cancel? Ross typed. What do you mean?

I mean kill, eliminate. VJ wrote back. If anyone deserves it, it’s some schmuck who steals your money and threatens the site. I’ve seen plenty of people canceled for way less. You know?

Ross had never considered killing Green. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that VJ had a point.

Messages from VJ started flooding in.

If he rats us out to the Feds, you’ll be spending the rest of your life in jail, man.

You’re too good for that.

Too smart.

I say, fuck Chronic Pain.

He had it coming.

Ross read the messages in quick succession. VJ was totally fucking right. Ross was being way too soft. The Silk Road needed him to make the hard choices; needed him to protect it.

As long as Green was alive, he was a liability to The Silk Road. To Ross. If users found out the site may not be secure, his entire business would be in jeopardy. There was no room for chances or error with the police circling closer every day and the number of overdoses mounting.

There was no time to lose. Ross messaged Nob right away.

Hey, I need to talk to you when you have a min, Ross typed.

Nob answered around 5 am. What’s up, Boss?

Ross hesitated, wondering if having Green killed was worth it. Ross himself had $25 million in bitcoin placed in a special account, and the site was nearing $1 billion in sales. The Silk Road employed over 4,000 sellers and serviced more than 100,000 customers. In the moment it took for Ross to consider the scope of his creation, he realized that he would sacrifice Green in an instant to keep it.

I need to upgrade my order, Ross wrote. From beat-up to execute. He was on the inside, and now he’s been arrested; I’m afraid he’ll give up info. Have you ever done anything like that?

Oh yeah. Nob replied. I’ve handled situations like this before. The key is making it look like a robbery. You sure you want to switch up?  

A part of Ross always knew that the Silk Road would have to be put first, to come before any one person. It was up to him to protect it and defend the marketplace he risked everything to build. It was about more than just money; it was about legacy.

Ross typed back, y-e-s and hit ‘enter’.

They decided that the hit would take place on February 16th and that Ross sent Nob a preliminary $40,000. He was DPR, after all. And the persona he created was un-fucking-touchable in the online world. Now, he would be the same way in real life.

Ross expected to be eaten up and tormented by his decision, but after he shut the laptop that night, everything felt under control again. All he had to do was wait, and it would be as if the problem was simply taking care of itself.

In the early morning hours of February 16th, Nob was ready to do the deed. All the planning had been done. Nob approached Green’s home with two of his men flanking him, dressed in all black and moving under the cover of night. Green was home alone, and they would ensure no one on the block heard a peep.

They quietly pried open the back door and tiptoed into the bedroom, where Green was sleeping. Nob shined a flashlight into the man’s face and ordered him to get out of bed. Green sat up, upset and confused. That’s when the other two men grabbed him and pulled him into the connected bathroom.

Green struggled and cried out for help. Nob punched him square in the jaw with a crunch, and Green fell to the linoleum floor. He looked at the men, his eyes wide with fear, and begged for his life.

The men held Green’s arms and legs as Nob wrapped a rope around the man’s neck and squeezed. Green’s face quickly went from red to blue to purple. He flailed his arms and legs, but they remained pinned. There was nothing Green could do except gag and choke until finally, Green went limp.

February 16th at 3:30 am, Ross received a message from Nob. It was a photograph of a pallid Green laid out on the floor of his hideous bathroom. Vomit stuck to his mouth and covered his wet shirt; it was apparent the man was dead. The sight made Ross queasy, and he exited out of the image before sending Nob an extra $40,000 for a job well done.

Ross felt like he could finally take a breath; the pressure, for the moment, had been relieved.

But Ross didn’t know that Nob had a secret. A secret that could end Ross and threaten to destroy his entire enterprise.

ACT 2

What Ross didn’t know was that Nob wasn’t really a drug dealer at all.

In real life, Nob was a morally grey DEA Agent named Carl Force. And, I know what you’re thinking: no, that’s not a porn name. Not wanting to impede an investigation led by the FBI, Force waited to see what the greatest law enforcement agency in the country could do against the darknet kingpin.

In the six months following its Gawker debut, however, the FBI had yet to progress on the Silk Road case. Force and a handful of other law enforcement agents were restless and began working to infiltrate the site from the inside.

Force joined the Silk Road as a seller at the start of 2012 and started to work his way toward the epicenter of the darknet site; its creator and moderator DPR.

With a background in undercover narcotics operations, Force knew that he couldn’t use any of his real information. So, he created the handle Nob and a detailed backstory to go along with the new character.

Force loved the adrenaline of kicking in doors and high stakes busts, but he did things his own way, following his own rules. In the years he spent doing undercover work in the real world, he struggled with losing himself and would become his persona. This time, though, he vowed to keep himself straight.

With DPR in his sights, Nob began working his way up the ladder as a trusted seller while also acting as a spy for the DEA. The plan was for Force to use his status on the site to get personal or banking info on DPR or any of his top-level employees. Force began messaging DPR, feeding him fake information from a police informant that Force called “Kevin”. There was no Kevin, just like there was no “Nob”. All their chats were recorded and sent to the DEA for filing and tracking.

Over the months, DPR and Nob grew to have a sort of friendship. According to the backstory Force had created for Nob, his criminal repertoire included enforcement and collection talents, so he acted the part in their chats. But Force’s bid to gain attention and notoriety on the site led the DEA agent down a crooked path.

In the year that Force had been on the site, he started creating other fake online personas without the authority of the DEA. He kept the profiles a secret and started stashing away cash in anonymous online accounts totaling over $250,000. Sometimes he made that money selling DEA confiscated drugs, and other times he made it selling classified documents. The anonymity of the Silk Road made it all too easy for Force to detach from the real world and its consequences.

At first, Force only gave Ross bogus police intel, and the agent kept his superiors aware of the scheme. But as time passed, more of Force’s communications with Ross became encrypted. The encryption prevented Force’s superiors from determining precisely what sort of intel Force was sharing with the notorious internet criminal. Some days, even Carl Force wasn’t sure whose side he was really on.

Force knew he was caught up in the life he was portraying online, but he didn’t mind smudging the rules to get what he wanted. After nearly a year of deep-cover work, Force was able to coordinate his shady efforts with a desperate-for-progress FBI when he got his first lead into a Silk Road employee with the handle Chronic Pain.

Chronic Pain had placed an order for some Vicodin on one of Force’s unauthorized fake accounts. With the new information, Force was placed at the head of a multi-agency task force targeting Chronic Pain.

As Nob, Force orchestrated the shipment of coke that landed on Green’s doorstep and personally watched Green take the bait from his command post across the street.

But Force and his team didn’t know just how valuable Green was until they stumbled onto messages Green had saved on his laptop. It quickly became apparent that Green was a higher-level administrator than the task force had thought, and they quickly detained Green for questioning.

By that evening, news of Green’s arrest in connection with the Silk Road made its way into the mainstream news. DPR messaged Nob the very next day, explaining to the seller that he had a “problem” in Utah that required violence.

Sitting in a Marriott, Force received a PDF file from DPR of the target. He opened the document and discovered a scan of Green’s driver’s license photo. Then, he looked across the table where Green was half-asleep at that very moment.

Well, this sure is an opportunity! Force thought.

Force convinced Green to sign a waiver, thereby commencing his role in an impromptu staged torture sting against DPR. A short time later, Green was being dunked in the bathtub of a Marriott suite by phoney thugs who were, in fact, a Secret Service agent and a Baltimore postal inspector.

The agent’s held Green’s head underwater as he kicked and struggled against them. He pushed relentlessly against the side of the tub while his head was forced underwater. A camera flashed, and Green was punched and submerged again. Another flash in the old man’s face while he was under. The seconds ticked by painfully slow. Just when he thought they would leave him there to die, he was pulled up, coughing, and gasping for breath.

Nob scanned the pictures onto his laptop and concluded that they looked perfect. Just as he was about to hit ‘send’ to confirm the hit with DPR, Nob stopped in his tracks.  DPR had sent him a message, and he wanted to talk.

Nob held off on the photos and responded to DPR’s message. To Force’s surprise, DPR no longer wanted Green beaten up; he wanted him killed.

Force confirmed the hit with DPR and knew that his plan was coming together. Nob agreed to kill Green but told DPR that the new request would take some time and more planning. They scheduled the hit for February 16th, and DPR paid Nob $40,000 to get the job started.  

The task force reached out to Green, simultaneously letting him know about the hit and requesting that he fake his own death. Green was alarmed but did as he was told. Powdering his face to look bone white and smearing regurgitated canned soup over his mouth to make his death look realistic. Green’s wife took pictures and sent them to the police.

February 17th was the moment of truth. Nob chose the most convincing picture out of the lineup that Millie Green had texted and sent it to DPR in the early morning hours. The typing bubbles appeared on Force’s screen, and the agent held his breath, praying DPR bought into the staged photograph.

DPR thanked Nob for the service and sent him an extra $40,000 for a job well done. Force had pulled it off.

Nob was getting closer and knew that DPR was relying on him more and more. Force had seen it time and time again; these guys at the top couldn’t handle the pressure. They couldn’t handle the secrets and the lies. They always cracked. All Nob had to do was wait, and he would be there to bring him down. It was his job, his duty, and his oath; that much was always clear to him.

But Force and his gang of agents weren’t the only ones making progress on the Silk Road case.

The wheels of the federal government grind slowly, but back in NY, the FBI cyber-crime unit was starting to make some headway with the Silk Road case.

Chris Tarbell, an FBI Cybercrime Agent, was on a conference call with the US attorney assigned to the case and an agent from Homeland Security Investigations named Jared Der-Yeghiayan. Der-Yeghiayan was stationed at the customs office in Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport and had been finding retail-size drug parcels in the mail on foreign flights, all carefully wrapped, with customer service slips and return addresses to StudyAbroad.com. This, Der-Yeghiayan discovered, was a vendor on a thing called Silk Road.

Der-Yeghiayan familiarized himself with the site and learned Silk Road well enough to bust a low-level admin named Cirrus and persuade her to cooperate, allowing him to take over her account. Now Cirrus was rising through the ranks, becoming a trusted insider. Tarbell invited Der-Yeghiayan to New York to work with the FBI on the case.

As Tarbell brought Der-Yeghiayan up to speed, an agent from the IRS stumbled into their conversation. As it happened, Agent Gary Alford wandered into Tarbell’s War Room that day while working another case.

Alford immediately recognized all the names and case information laid out in the Cyber Teams office as the agents were dissecting a pattern in the Tor IP Addresses that had been linked to the Silk Road. The group was analyzing one specific address that kept coming up in San Francisco. Alford, who saw the chart and overheard the conversation, said, oh, that’s funny, I had a lead on this case in San Francisco.

The FBI Agents in the room all stopped and stared. Could this guy be for real?

Alford was, in fact, very for real. He explained to everyone, Der-Yeghiayan and Tarbell included, that he found a suspect almost a year earlier when the IRS was handed the Silk Road case to try and help the FBI. Alford explained that whoever had started the darknet site had tried to drum up interest on regular websites with like-minded audiences. Alford’s digging led him to the handles of Frosty and Altoid. Through a ton of digging, Alford linked both handles to an email address belonging to a man named Ross Ulbricht.  

Der-Yeghiayan ran Ross Ulbricht’s name through a quick search for his last known address. The results showed that Ross lived half a block away from Café Luna. A San Francisco coffeehouse that just so happened to be right on top of the location where the recurring IP address was marked.

As the pieces started coming together, Tarbell felt the rush of adrenaline start pumping through his veins. It was the familiar feeling of wheels starting to click into place when he discovered something in a case like suddenly, he turned a puzzle piece, and the entire thing snapped into a clear picture. They had found their man.

Tarbell and his team put in an arrest warrant to the Federal Prosecutor’s office and had to jump through some bureaucratic hoops before they would be granted their request. The wheels of justice grind slowly but exceedingly fine. Tarbell was going to nab DPR once and for all.

Meanwhile, Force and his team were getting the ball rolling on a second sting operation as DPR reached out with another hit request. This time DPR needed to deal with a blackmailer who went by the handle FriendlyChemist.

DPR messaged Nob saying that FriendlyChemist was a liability needed to be executed. DPR proceeded to give Nob all the personal info his top-level admins could dig up. Nob placated DPR, scheduling the hit out two months. Nob was playing both friend and enemy, planting ominous seeds inside the elusive criminal’s head.

It was becoming clear that the pressure was getting to DPR. He was more and more erratic in his posting on the Silk Road site, going back and forth between manic posts in a furious sequence followed by days or weeks away from the site.

Tarbell and his team noticed the change in DPR’s behavior and wondered if Ross was trying to throw the police off his trail. Had someone tipped off Ross to their investigation? After months of waiting on the District Attorney, the FBI finally got their golden ticket: an arrest warrant for Ross Ulbricht.

Tarbell knew they had to get out to San Francisco as soon as possible. Before DPR became too skittish and fled or before he completely lost what was left of his fragmented mind.

ACT 3

Ross could feel command of the Silk Road slipping. He recorded his troubles in his log, but he felt like no one was listening anymore, no one cared.

DPR had created a special forum called Staff Chat for his elite admins, including Libertas, Inigo, and a newcomer called Cirrus. DPR told his admins how the pressure was getting to him. Even amid the rising chaos swirling around Silk Road, DPR started taking days off, leaving daily operations to his lieutenants. Amid the disorder, DPR spoke to Libertas about taking over Silk Road in case of emergency, but he never gave him server access.

Law enforcement was trying to infiltrate the forums. His prominent vendors were getting busted. To top it off, Ross had begun hemorrhaging money. It started with a government seizure of nearly $2 million in May from Mt. Gox. Mt. Gox was the world’s biggest bitcoin exchange and one of the sites where the key Silk Road accounts were held.

A month later, Silk Road user, Redandwhite, convinced Ross to give him $500,000 to help him build a backup Silk Road site. Ross was desperate for help and gave the user all the money upfront. The next day, Redandwhite disappeared.

Even his friend Nob was making veiled threats about how easy Ross would be to kill in jail.

Ross was left alone, depressed, and overwhelmed. Now, he knew that he couldn’t really trust anyone on the outside. DPR needed to keep his circle tight, only including the people who had been with him from the beginning, but even those names were dwindling. The more Ross tried to keep it all in, the more he felt like his innermost worries came pouring out.

Ross knew he needed to get away and secure an escape plan for himself to clear his head. In late September, Ross finally flew to Dominica, a tiny tax haven island in the Caribbean. In between sipping Pina Coladas on the beach, Ross started an application for economic citizenship. He flew back to the states a week later, feeling more protected. At least now, he had a plan. A way to guard himself in the event that things went sour.

On October 1st, Ross arrived home to his apartment in San Francisco, his laptop bag in tow, just in time to grab a sandwich from the corner store.

But just around the corner, a group was watching. They had been waiting in plain view. On the park bench reading a newspaper, sipping a decaf latte inside the coffee shop across the street, even ordering a sandwich at the very same corner store.

Tarbell and his team were ready to make their move. But they didn’t just want to arrest Ross Ulbricht; they wanted to destroy him. To get the information they needed to take down the site, they would need to arrest Ross while he was logged into the Silk Road as DPR. Now was not their moment.

The FBI task force waited all night, staring at the dark windows of Ross’s third-floor studio apartment. Tarbell knew that in most police cases, even the high-profile ones, it’s mostly hours of waiting around in sheer boredom followed by 5 minutes of adrenaline-fueled sheer terror.

Tarbell received some intel that Ross’s apartment had a steel door. This made breaching his apartment complicated. The police didn’t want to take the chance that Ross would delete the Silk Road in the time it took them to break the door down. They would need to wait until he left.

Der-Yeghiayan was charged with monitoring DPR’s activity on the Silk Road from an account he acquired when he busted one of the Silk Road sellers in a raid. His handle was Cirrus, a Silk Road admin charged with monitoring message boards.

On the morning of October 2nd, 2013, Jared monitored the site as DPR worked from his room. At 2:45 pm, with only 22% battery remaining on his laptop, Der-Yeghiayan saw DPR log off. A few minutes later, Tarbell and Der-Yeghiayan heard from surveillance: They had eyes on Ross leaving his house. He was wearing jeans and his red sweater and walking east. And carrying his computer. Ross was on the move.

Holy fuck! Tarbell thought. He’s coming. The team scattered, this time in a giddy panic, zigzagging for cover like in a game of hide-and-seek. Tarbell, who was heading the operation, walked down the street in the direction of Ross’ house. He felt high from the adrenaline and didn’t realize Ross was on top of their position. Tarbell was rereading Ross’ description from the surveillance team when he looked up and saw Ross heading directly toward him.

It felt like slow motion, coming face-to-face with the man he’d been tracking for months, resolving him from digital obscurity into a real live person walking up Diamond Street. Tarbell was worried he’d get made. He was trying to act all Mister Undercover, but, Jesus, did he look like a cop. Ross walked right past him toward the library.

A few minutes later, with Der-Yeghiayan’s dying laptop, he and Tarbell watched Ross log on as DPR. He navigated into the marketplace, then the forum, then the elite admin chat where Cirrus was waiting to say hello. Tarbell knew the chief had mobilized their local units, and fifty tacked-out federal agents were racing up Highway 101.

The cavalry was coming, and Tarbell wanted to get Ross before sirens showed up.

Two agents had been in the library when Ross walked in. He strode right by them and continued, unaware, past the periodicals and reference desk, beyond the romance novels. He settled in at a circular table near science fiction on the second floor.

The agents assessed the tactical landscape a flight up, which was tough: Ross was sitting in a corner, with a view out the window and his back toward the wall. There was no clear approach. It was Agent Kiernan’s job to get Ross’ laptop, and it looked tricky. Your sole job is to get the laptop, Tarbell had drilled Kiernan. Get the laptop. That’s why you’re here. Get the laptop. And keep it alive.

Tarbell and Der-Yeghiayan joined the action in the library, taking a spot on the stairs at a landing. Der-Yeghiayan was alarmed at how fast his battery was draining, but he kept communicating with DPR, ensuring he logged in to the admin panel.

Minutes ticked past. Everyone was communicating electronically, trying to coordinate. Tarbell heard from the plainclothes surveillance team—they were in the library too. He didn’t know where precisely because he didn’t know what they looked like, which was the main point of a very low-profile field surveillance team.

A few miles away, the giant squad of SWAT teams was approaching San Francisco. All the local supervisors were in that armada, so technically, Tarbell was in charge here on the ground. He took a deep breath and sent a message: “Let the guy run if you have to, but don’t let that computer close.” This was the moment. Tarbell didn’t know it, but the surveillance agents had designed a new arrest on the spot. He had no idea what would happen when he took a deep breath and told everyone: Go.

What unfolded next was a piece of improvisational theater. At 3:14 pm, DPR was typing away, writing to Cirrus. Just then, a middle-aged woman and man came toward Ross, ambling along in the kind of semi-homeless shuffle you might often see in a San Francisco library.

Fuck you! A woman yelled. They were directly behind Ross’ chair. As if they were a deranged couple about to fight. The man grabbed the woman by the collar and raised his fist.

Ross turned around for just a second, during which a hand reached across the table and grasped Ross’ laptop. To everyone’s surprise, the petite, unassuming young Asian woman sitting across from Ross was also an FBI agent.

Ross lunged for his machine, a hair too late, as she turned like a quarterback for a quick handoff to Agent Kiernan, who appeared out of nowhere—as instructed—to get the laptop. It took less than 10 seconds. From afar, Tarbell was astonished by the elegant choreography of the whole thing.

While Ross was cuffed, Kiernan immediately sat down with Ross’ PC and plugged it in to charge. It was open, and he could see everything. The ID handle on the account was ‘Frosty’, and Ross was logged in to Silk Road as an administrator under an account called /Mastermind. Ross was put in the back of a black armored police truck. There was nothing more for Ross to do and nowhere for him to go.

In the car, Tarbell and Ross found themselves alone in the backseat. Tarbell talked about Ross’ life in a way that made it clear how much he knew. He had been studying Ross for nearly three years, after all.

Ross was talkative but cagey. He seemed relaxed or almost relieved. Not in being caught, but just being with someone who possessed his secret. In front of Tarbell, he could be both Ross and DPR. He admitted nothing to Tarbell, but after a natural pause in the conversation, Ross said, I don’t suppose $20 million can get me out of this? It might have been the most authentic moment in Ross’ life in more than two years.

No, Tarbell said. He couldn’t resist needling him. Even if it could, what about this guy? He pointed at the FBI agent driving. Have to take care of him too, right? How much money do you have?

Ross looked ahead as they weaved toward the jail and didn’t say another word.

ACT 4

On the day of his arrest in October 2013, the Silk Road processed $9 billion worth of bitcoin transactions. And with each and every one of those $9 billion worth of transactions, a little slice of bitcoin was set aside for Ross. The price for a single bitcoin was $121, meaning that Ross was worth around $17.4 million at the time of his arrest.

On the day of his conviction in February 2015, the price of bitcoin was $220. At that level, Ross’ 144,000 coins were worth $31.7 million.

If Ross still had access to his bitcoin today, it would be worth over $8 billion, and it continues to grow. This statistic would have put Ross Ulbricht about $400 million richer than George Soros and $600 million richer than Steven Spielberg. Even with all that wealth, Ross would still be trailing $103 billion behind Jeff Bezos. Just because you’re the amazon.com of drugs doesn’t make you Amazon.com.

Despite never handling or directly selling drugs, Ross was indicted on seven charges, including; narcotics trafficking, computer hacking, money laundering, and a kingpin statue typically reserved for mafia dons and cartel leaders.

Ulbricht also faced murder-for-hire charges in a separate case in a Baltimore federal court. These charges were ultimately dropped in 2018.

DEA Agent Carl Force also came under suspicion after the Silk Road investigation came to a close. His supervising agents found real police intel that Force had shared with DPR and the money he had illegally squirreled away in off-shore accounts.

Force later pleaded guilty to charges of extortion, money laundering and obstruction of justice for stealing bitcoins during the probe and secretly soliciting payment from Ulbricht. He was sentenced in 2015 to 6-1/2 years in prison.

Ross’ trial began in January 2015 in Manhattan, and he was convicted on all seven counts. The trial was a highly publicized and charged event, with the presiding judge reportedly receiving death threats from presumed Silk Road supporters.

Before his sentencing, Ulbricht stated via a letter to the judge that his actions were linked to his libertarian ideals and that the “Silk Road was supposed to be about giving people the freedom to make their own choices.”

On May 29, 2015, Ulbricht was sentenced to two life imprisonment terms plus 40 years to be served concurrently without the possibility of parole.

Two years after his conviction, Ross appealed his case. He and his lawyers pointed to what they’d described as illegal searches in the investigation, the involvement of at least two federal agents now proven to be corrupt, and Ulbricht’s draconian punishment for what they described as non-violent crimes.

The three-judge appellate panel nonetheless affirmed the lower court's decision, and with that, Ross lost his last chance of escaping a lifetime in prison.

The judge rendering the verdict announced directly to Ross, [that] you wanted this to be your legacy, and now it is.

I’m Keith Korneluk and you’re listening to Modem Mischief

CREDITS

Thanks for listening to Modem Mischief. Don’t forget to hit the subscribe or follow button in your favorite podcast app right now so you don’t miss an episode. This show is an independent production and is wholly supported by you, our listeners and the best way to support the show is to share it. Tell your friends, your enemies, try screaming it from the hilltops. And another way to support us is on Patreon or a paid subscription on Apple Podcasts. For as little as $5 a month you’ll receive an ad-free version of the show plus monthly bonus episodes exclusive to subscribers. Modem Mischief is brought to you by Mad Dragon Productions and is created, produced and hosted by me: Keith Korneluk. This episode is written and researched by Lauren Minkoff. Mixed and mastered by David Swope aka Dat Dick on the Dials. The theme song “You Are Digital” is composed by Computerbandit. Sources for this episode are available on our website at modemmischief.com. And don’t forget to follow us on social media at @modemmischief. Thanks for listening!