[MeMyselfAndI]

Operation No Moore Nonsense

It had been eight days since Kayla's topless photo first appeared online, although it felt like eons. Moore had been inundated with appeals to remove it: from me, Kayla, his advertisers, his publicist, his attorney, his website technician and his hosting company, among others.

Hunter ignored the requests, so I jacked up the intensity and moved on to "Operation No Moore Nonsense," which required Charles' assistance because we had to be ready, willing and able to sue. I contacted Jeffrey Lyon, the president of Black Lotus communications — Moore's Los Angeles-based internet security company — and asked for his help

"I need to talk to my tech guys," Jeffrey told me on the phone. "We might be able to block Kayla's page. Although it would technically still be there, no one could see it."

"That would be great," I replied. Hours later, the tech folks at Black Lotus had succeeded. However, shortly thereafter, Moore circumvented Jeffrey's efforts and maliciously created a new page for Kayla. Her topless photo was visible again, and we were back to square one.


"Maybe we should try blocking the photo instead of the page," Jeffrey said when I contacted him to report Moore's handiwork. "I will talk to my tech guys and see if it can be done. Give me a couple of days."

I thanked him and turned my efforts toward Moore's Los Angeles attorney, Reza Sina, who I had spoken with twice. He'd expressed sympathy for the victims, yet claimed to have no control over his client. My intuition told me that Reza had more control than he acknowledged. I also felt he did not take me seriously, so I figured it was time for Charles to have a stern chat with him, lawyer to lawyer.

"We have talked to the FBI," Charles revealed to Reza on the phone. "They will be coming to our house. Plus, I am walking into court and filing papers in 30 minutes if that photo is not down. Period."

Twenty minutes later, Kayla was removed from Is Anyone Up? And a few days after that, Jeffrey and his tech folks were able to block photos of other victims from our group, although it was unclear whether Moore could bypass the cyber-barrier.


The FBI

Three young FBI agents from the Los Angeles Internet Crime division appeared at our door. They were professional and supportive. Unlike the LAPD detective, they never pointed an accusatory finger at Kayla or other victims. I handed them a copy of "Operation No Moore." They were astonished by the extent of my research.

"It's almost 10 inches," I said. "I have phone numbers for hacked victims all over the country."

Charles quipped, "You should hire Charlotte. Working for the FBI is her calling."

The agents agreed to take the case and spent several hours at our house, examining computers, copying files and questioning Kayla about the hacking. I told them that I had disclosed the cumbersome and detailed story to a reporter named Camille Dodero with The Village Voice because it was important to clear up misinformation. The media had been inaccurately reporting that photos on revenge porn websites stemmed from disgruntled exes. There had been no mention of hacking or photoshopping.

"Also, Hunter Moore lies about living in San Francisco," I told the FBI. "I'd like to put his home address on the Internet so victims will know how to serve him legal papers."

"I can't tell you what to do," the lead agent said. "But we would rather you not put his address out there yet, and we'd prefer The Village Voice not publish anything at this time because we don't want Moore alerted to the investigation.

"Unfortunately, he probably knows about it," I said. "We told his attorney and the president of his security company. I'd be surprised if they didn't relay the information."

I asked Camille to stall The Village Voice story, and then I phoned the Los Angeles Police Department detective to let her know that she could close her file.

The FBI agents stopped by our house for two more visits; the final one included a "victims meeting," designed to discuss the possibility of a civil lawsuit and to give the agents an opportunity to interview multiple victims in one location.

Shortly thereafter, Moore took down Is Anyone Up?, selling the domain.

The FBI Raid, Threats and Anonymous

The FBI raided Moore's home — or more accurately, his parent's home near Sacramento — breaking down the front door and confiscating Moore's computer, cell phone and other electronic equipment; and Camille felt compelled to move forward with The Village Voice article. Before going to press, she telephoned Moore for a statement. He went ballistic, cursing and making threats.

"Honestly, I will be ****ing furious, and I will burn down ****ing The Village Voice headquarters if you ****ing write anything saying I have an FBI investigation," he said.

He asked who had supplied her with the FBI information, but she refused to say.

He added, "I will literally ****ing buy a first-class plane ticket right now, eat an amazing meal, buy a gun in New York, and ****ing kill whoever said that."

Moore soon learned it was me.

Fear entered my life. I received verbal attacks on Twitter, computer viruses and death threats. Moore publicly announced that he would relaunch Is Anyone Up? with all of the original photos, plus the site would be more insidious than before because it would include the addresses of victims along with driving directions on how to get to their homes.

This prompted me to make Moore's home address public on Twitter, which resulted in even greater backlash, the creepy guy in the white car and the odd phone call from Anonymous.

It was two hours after the Anonymous call, and I was still wondering if the whole thing had been a practical joke. Kayla was studying near the front window, and that is when she saw it for the second time.

"Mom, that white car is outside again," she yelled.

"What?" I was in disbelief. I was tired of having my family victimized. I was more furious than afraid and fully prepared for a mother-to-stalker showdown. I marched out of the front door, unsure whether I was stepping into danger.

Kayla tagged behind, yelling, "Mom? What are you going to do?"


There was a blonde, curly-haired, 20 to 30 year old kid in the white car. He was fiddling with something in his lap.

I stood in the street and yelled, "May I help you?"

He looked up at me and flew into panic mode. He quickly started his car and screeched away, almost barreling into my neighbor's stucco wall. I got five digits of his seven digit license plate.

On the following day, I learned the truth about "Jack." He was real. He was my Gene Hackman. Anonymous launched a massive technological assault on Moore, crashing his servers and publicizing much of his personal information online, including his social security number.

Moore retreated, becoming oddly quiet. He stopped speaking with the press, probably on orders from his lawyer because the FBI investigation was pending. The case is still open today.

Although Is Anyone Up? was down, I knew there were other disturbing sites and other desperate victims. I began pushing for legislation to protect victims, meeting with politicians on the state and federal level. I testified in Sacramento in favor of SB 255, an anti-revenge porn bill in California; it passed. I am hopeful that a federal law will be introduced soon.

2012 was a bizarre and difficult year. Sometimes I look back and wonder what would have happened if Moore had removed Kayla's photo when first asked. Would his site be up today? Would Gary Jones still be hacking into emails? Would there be a pending FBI investigation? Would politicians have taken up the issue, and would there be a law in California with the possibility of federal legislation? But most of all I wonder if Charles was right.

Does Hunter Moore regret the day he messed with Kayla Laws?