“Ten pounds of the Flores Island beans. It’s only harvested and roasted once a year, and once it’s gone, it’s gone,” Mike explained.
David sat down. “Did you make us meet here just for the coffee? We’re eight miles from the campus!”
“We’re only two miles from your house, and yes, we came here just for the coffee. You won’t have another experience like it.”
“We need to focus on ELOPe,” David said in frustration.
“Okay, okay,” Mike said, as he and Gene chuckled in amusement.
They got down to business.
“You guys remember Pete Wong, the engineer from Internal IT who wrote the email-to-web bridge?” Mike saw nods. “Well, I heard back from Pete.” Mike paused. “I have bad news, more bad news, and worse news.”
“Well, give us the bad news first,” David said with resignation.
“Pete started scanning computer systems at Avogadro looking for the digital fingerprint of ELOPe, as we had asked him to.” Mike paused for a sip of coffee. “He found it on every server he looked at in the Communication Products server pool, even ones it shouldn’t have been on.”
David groaned, and then asked, “And the more bad news?”
“Pete also looked for the digital fingerprint of his email-to-web bridge on the same servers. It was also present on every server. Pete guessed that the email-to-web code had been incorporated directly into ELOPe.”
“How is that possible?” Gene asked.
“The contractors,” Mike and David answered simultaneously, looking at each other.
Mike went on, “The contractors that were hired over the holidays made changes, and we don’t know what those changes were. At first we thought they were just performance improvements, but now it seems that ELOPe changed its own functionality as well.”
They all mused over that for a few minutes.
“What’s the worse news?” David asked, remembering how Mike had started the conversation.
“I went to Pete’s office yesterday afternoon to get an update from him, since we didn’t want to use email or the phone. I gave him my home address in case he had anything urgent for me. Then last night he showed up at my door just after I had eaten dinner. He had been fired.”
“What?” Gene barked, almost slamming down his coffee cup.
“Yup, he says he was in his office, working late, looking for more signs of server infection, when suddenly his network access was cut off. Just a couple of minutes later, Security showed up at his office, and told him he was fired. He wanted to talk to his manager, but the Security guards wouldn’t do anything other than let him pack a box of personal belongings, and then they escorted him off campus. So he came straight to my place, figuring it was all related.”
“We’ve got to do something,” David finally said, shaking his head. “Waiting for Gary is not an option anymore.”
The question facing them, as it had for days, focused not just on who had the authority to shut down the servers, but on who would believe their story and the limited evidence they had. After exploring various options, they came back to the same person, Sean Leonov.
“We’ve got to get an appointment with Sean,” Mike said. “Sean brought you on board to lead the ELOPe project, so you have credibility with him. I know we’re jumping several levels in the management hierarchy, but this has to be done. We’ve exhausted all of our other options, and we’re in a race against the growing influence of this thing.”
David hung his head. He knew Mike was right, but he couldn’t get over the fact once again that this would likely be the end of his career. “Alright, let’s do it. Let’s go together.”
Since they all lived relatively nearby, they carpooled together. David drove them in his old BMW. From the Fremont bridge, they took the Avogadro exit that led directly into the Avogadro underground parking garage. From there, they made their way to the executive building. Together, they trooped down the hallways winding their way to Sean Leonov’s office, with all the solemnness of a funeral procession. The executive offices were located close together in the uppermost floor of Building 7B on campus. As David looked around, he thought the executive floor seemed practically abandoned. Virtually one closed office after another.
They finally found themselves outside Sean’s door. They knocked, but there was no response. David tried the knob on a whim, and found it locked. “Now what? There’s no one around here.”
“Sean is traveling,” said a woman walking by. Her tailored suit suggested she was one of the VPs. “I’m Marissa. His admin, Rosie, will have his contact information. Just contact her.”
“Where could we find his admin?”
“She works from home when Sean is traveling. Just send her an email. Rosie Fendell at AvogadroCorp dot com. She’ll be in the directory as well,” Marissa said helpfully.
“Is there any way we could contact her by phone?” David asked. “We, uh, can’t send an email. It’s too sensitive.”
“Sorry, email is your best bet. Good luck.” Marissa turned and left.
They watched Marissa leave, then David broke the silence. “Just send an email,” he said sarcastically. “Sure. That’s so simple.”
“Well, one email can’t hurt, right?” Mike said optimistically, and clapped him on the back. “Let’s make it as simple as possible. We just need to meet Sean.”
They made their way to David’s office, and David sat down in front of his desk computer. While the others watched over his shoulder, David carefully crafted an email to Sean’s administrative assistant, making it sound innocuous. They all read the email and approved it before David sent it.
Gene went down the hall to get coffee for everyone, while they waited for a reply from Rosie. When he got back, Gene distributed the cups all around, while David opened up his desk drawer to pull out his stash of sweeteners. He put them on the table, but he was the only one who took one.
“I’m sure I’ve never been so much on the edge of my seat about an email before.” Mike joked nervously after David had gone through the ritual of preparing his coffee.
“No kidding,” David responded, as he sipped his coffee.
Gene sat and drank quietly from his mug.
“Maybe you’re right,” David offered, looking at Mike.
“I’m sure I am,” Mike answered, smiling, “But about what?”
“About the coffee. I always thought the coffee here was good, but it does seem bland compared to that Flores Island stuff from Extracto we had this morning.”
Mike sat back and smiled, a huge grin spreading across his face. “I don’t want to say I told you so…”
Suddenly they heard a sharp knock at the door. They practically jumped out of their seats. “Alright, guys, let’s calm down,” David said. “Whatever it is, it’s in the computer. It might be real good at faking emails, but it can’t hurt us for real.”
David went over and opened the door. “Yes, can I help you?”
Outside the door was a dark haired woman in a suit, with four uniformed security guards behind her in the hallway. “Mr. Ryan?” said the woman.
“Yes, that’s me,” David replied, a sinking feeling in his gut.
“Are Mr. Williams and Mr. Keyes in there with you?”
“Yes, we’re all here.” David opened the door wider.
“I’m Carly French, Director of Security. We’ve been contacted by several individuals that you’ve been harassing them. I’m afraid I’m going to have to escort you off the Avogadro campus immediately, pending a full investigation.”
David, Mike, and Gene all looked at each other. David’s assertion a minute ago that the computer couldn’t affect them in real life seemed to be falling apart before their eyes.