This is the central paradox of this marketplace. In order to get in, you have to be a verified credit card thief. But in order to do business, you have to show that you can deal honestly.

This one seller is rated A++, so we click on his name. That takes us to another shop, with a pop-up window. We have to agree with the terms and conditions — which explicitly bar both journalists and law enforcement officials.

Let's buy some credit cards!

Inside the shop, different credit cards sell for different prices — platinum cards are $35; corporate cards, $45. It's more expensive for cards with higher credit limits.

So you pick and choose a basket of numbers. Criminals usually buy these things in bulk, in case the credit cards get canceled. But a few of them should work.

Once the online deal is done, you get a list of credit card numbers. To turn the numbers into a piece of plastic you can actually use, you need some equipment.

Mularski jumps up and pulls open his desk drawer. He pulls out a piece of white plastic with a magnetic strip on it (it looks like a hotel key), and a machine that looks like a toaster for really skinny bagels.

The machine's called an MSR-206. You hook it up to your computer, and swipe your plastic card through it. It encodes the credit card information onto the magnetic strip — like burning a playlist onto a CD.

Next you run the white plastic card through another machine to get the raised lettering and the holograms that make it look legit.

Then you hit the malls and go shopping.

One swipe and a couple of purchases later, some chick gets a call from her bank saying there's been a fraudulent charge on her card.

So many hands on that card number, and the card itself never left her wallet.