Okay, most of the time. In fact, there were times Dar did wonder what exactly she'd done in a past life to deserve meeting Kerry in this one.
Ah, well. She booted up her laptop and pulled a can of Yoohoo from her bag, opening it and setting it at her side in direct violation of the strict no beverage rule she'd put in place for this room.
The screen came up and she started up her analysis program, and then booted the network monitor. She cracked her knuckles and started typing, calling up the router configuration on one screen while she set the monitor running on another.
An alert flashed. Dar paused and looked at it, surprised. "What the?" She pulled up the monitor and made it full screen, her eyes flicking over the readouts. Her attention zeroed in on one escalating counter, and with a curse, she switched to the router screen and started typing like a demon.
"Son of a bleeping pissant hacker. Wait till I get you--"
"YOU OKAY TO walk from here, sailor boy?" Ceci put the truck in park and peered across the bridge leading to the port. "Or you want me to drop you down inside?"
"Naw." Andy gathered up his hard hat and a small sack lying next to him on the seat. "This here's fine. Don't want them beagle brains wondering nothing." He paused to regard the line of old ships stretching out down the cut while plucking a seam on his jeans.
Ceci watched him with a faint grin. "Well, go have fun then." She nudged his shoulder. "My husband the corporate spy."
Andy chuckled turning his head and giving her a light kiss on the lips. "Just doing Dardar a favor." He opened the door and hopped out giving the side of the truck a slap before he moved off down the sidewalk toward the bridge.
"Hmm." Ceci leaned on the truck steering wheel resting her chin on top of it. "I'm not sure who did who a favor." She made a mental note. Her beloved husband had settled into retirement, but Ceci knew him well enough to know having something to do was coming as a definite relief.
The fact that it was a truly interesting, actually important task, only made it all the better. Had Dar known that before she asked?
Well. Ceci mused. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, to quote a hoary old saying, and very probably her daughter had an inside insight into mentally hyper-driven, restlessly active behavior that she, thankfully, didn't.
In any case, Andy was excited as a kid with a new slingshot, and she found herself surprisingly grateful to Dar for making him that way. She looked around, spotting Bayside just to her right. Hmm.
Maybe she could get Dar a present to say thank you. With a brisk nod, she put the truck in gear and made a swift U-turn, crossing six lanes of traffic with placid non-concern.
Andrew walked slowly down the pier, nodding briefly at the few men wandering in to start work along with him. "Lo." He greeted the foreman who was standing near the gangway drinking a cup of coffee.
"Hey there, ugly." The foreman responded with an easy grin that stripped the insult of most of its sting. "Listen, buddy. The folks inside gave me a good write up on you."
Andrew stopped at the edge of the gangway and leaned on the chain rope. "Yeap? That so?"
The man nodded. "That Norskie said it was nice to have someone who spoke English but kept their mouth shut for a change."
Andy chuckled. "Them fellers inside done chatter a bit, that's true." He allowed. "Didn't seem any too organized, though." He added offhandedly. "Lots of them boxes went all over the place."
The foreman sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, I know. I heard that." He frowned. "Problem is the people who ordered all the stuff for the fixing up didn't palletize it."
"Yeap." Andy nodded.
"So we've got dishes mixed with plumbing fixtures. What a mess." He showed Andrew his clipboard that held reams of receiving invoices. "Look at this. You're going to have an even bigger mess coming in today."
Since he so nicely offered, Andrew took the board and examined the papers. "Wall." He leaned on the chains again and pointed at one of the lines with a scarred finger. "See that there?"
"Yeah?" The man looked at the line warily. "What about it?"
"Way back when, in the Navy, that there used to be called a source tick." Andy told him. "I ain't got a half clue what them boys back in the office do with it, but all them with the same number done belonged together."
The foreman looked around quickly. "Yeah?" He studied the number, then flipped a few pages, and looked at another invoice. "Son of a bitch! Look! Cups, saucers, and silverware, all the same one!" His voice rose excitedly. "If we can get a couple of big magic markers we might make sense of this damn crap. Hang on...I'll be right back. Ugly, you're a genius!"
Andrew watched him hurry off. "Lord." He moved on in search of a roach coach, spotting one outside the walkway. "What the hell these people being paid for I do wonder. Mah kid come in here and this whole basket'd been tossed head over keester by now."
There was a small crowd around the wagon and he joined it, standing in line to wait his turn, then pointing mutely at the coffee and holding up an apple he'd taken from the back of the coach when he got to the front. The vendor handed him a steaming cup and took his proffered money, then moved on to the next guy in line as Andrew set the cup down and put as much of everything he could to get it to stop tasting like watery coffee.
It was already warm, and he was sweating under his t-shirt, but as he walked over to stand near the gangway again and sipped his coffee, he felt good to be there anyway. He leaned against the huge cleat the ship was moored to and crossed his ankles, his military issue boots showing dark against the white concrete.
Two figures approached from down the pier, attracting his attention. He remained in place, however, idly munching on his apple as the two women approached. They were talking as they walked, looking around, but not really paying much attention to the men standing around on the pier.
As they came even with him, though, Andrew dropped his eyes to his cup, cocking his ears to listen instead.
"I'm telling you, Shari. It's going to take three weeks to get the damn wireless gear in here, and even then the best I can hope for is maybe a two megabit pipe to that rented office over there."
"We are not giving those bitches one flat dime, Michelle," the taller, older of the two women retorted. "I don't care if we have to move the office here. Rent space in that damn Catholic trailer. I don't give a shit. I've got other people working on screwing ILS, so I'm not going to sit here being screwed by them in the meantime."
"Well, hell," the shorter woman replied. "I say let's bury the hatchet long enough to get a connection, for Pete's sake. I need the access to the system, Shari! I can't run the hardware part of this with a fucking tin can and a roll of string!"
"Fine." The taller woman stormed onto the gangway, brushing right by Andrew as she did so. "Do whatever the fuck you want. Go screw the little blond rat you're lusting for. Maybe that'll get you what you want."
The smaller woman stopped at the edge of the gangway. She glared at the other woman's retreating back, then glanced at Andrew.
"Mornin'." Andrew tipped his coffee cup to her.
With a disgusted look, the woman turned and stalked off, her heels clattering loudly on the concrete.
"C'MERE...C'MERE..." Dar was focused intently on the screen, her body arced forward and hunched over the laptop. She had three windows open, and she was running traces in all of them, using a fourth to scramble rapidly after the would be hacker as they probed the gateways into her network.
It was a tough balance, trying to follow the hacker around while at the same time not revealing her presence and at the same time running traces on him to find out where he was from.