Maddie Whitaker
Are subway rides always this bumpy? God almighty, you’d think this train was riding on flat tires instead of tracks. I’m shaking so much I might as well be epileptic. Was that insensitive? I don’t care. And is my coffee always this cold? I should give the café down the street a piece of my mind. Maybe they’d think twice about charging me $4.50 for an average cup of joe.
Monday mornings have the same energy as long waits at the DMV. Tired eyes, short tempers, and a desperate longing to be anywhere else but here are a staple. Since it happens to be one of those fantastic Monday mornings, you can imagine I am in quite a chipper mood. The gum on the sidewalk brings a smile to my face and when the homeless man who sits on the corner winks at me, my whole world shines brighter. False. That was a lie. New York mornings make me want to scream at a newborn baby. Why are there are so many people? We need a new plague.
After my treacherous journey on the train, I arrive at work. Working at a security firm like SafeGuard is an all right job for someone as painfully introverted as myself. I’d rather be skilled at writing code than skilled at conversing with people, so I’m right where I should be. I walk through the revolving doors and enter the elevator, punch the button for floor forty and lean back against the wall, staring up at the mirrored ceiling. This elevator ride always gives me time to think about all the different ways my life could’ve gone. Maybe if I had smoked that joint behind the auditorium with Jimmy from high school, I’d be more carefree now. Maybe if I had asked that girl from my statistics class out instead of just staring at her creepily, I’d be less miserable. I’m drowning in hypotheticals as I suddenly become entranced by my shoelaces. Like my life, they are plain, exhausted, and have a foreseeable end. Before my self-deprecation can get too depressing, the elevator comes to a halt and I step out onto my floor.
“Good morning, Stuart!” the bubbly receptionist screams at me as I pass her desk. She probably didn’t scream, but I don’t know the difference at 9 o’clock in the morning. She offers me a complimentary scone, although I can’t help but be suspicious. I will never understand why some people do nice things for other people for no reason. Seems like a scam to me.
I respond with a forced smile and make my way to my desk, avoiding my coworkers and making sure not to give anyone the idea that I want to interact with them. Companies like these are filled with narcissists who love the sound of their own voices. Weird, right? A company virtually overflowing with nerds who have been outcasts their whole lives filled with egomaniacs. You’d be surprised how many of these code geeks think they know everything. Everything but how to put together an outfit or flirt with a woman without making her feel uncomfortable. I’m included in all of these judgments, by the way. I never said I wasn’t self-aware.
My day goes on as boring as usual, with the occasional trek to the breakroom to steal some of Katherine’s cheesecake. She always complains about people stealing her food and I just nod along and say, “How dare they?” She’s one of those people that can’t really recognize sarcasm, and since it’s my main form of communication, we don’t get along very well. A shame. I hear she makes good lemon squares too.
After finishing a job for a law firm, I open my email and am surprised to see a message from a company I don’t recognize. The email address seems to be normal and I briefly wonder if this is just a new assignment I wasn’t made aware of. I don’t remember signing up for a project and being one of the top coders here, I typically get to pick where I work. Strange, I know, but I’m not interested in wasting my talents on bakery websites. Sue me. I scroll to the bottom of the email and see it’s from a technology company called Brick Wire. I’ve never heard of Brick Wire before, but I start reading the email anyway.
From the brief information I’ve been given, it seems that Brick Wire has been one step behind Beacon for years now and they are fed up with being second-best. I wonder what on earth I have to do with their inadequacy when I see a phone number at the bottom of the email. My curiosity gets the best of me and I discretely write the number on a piece of paper, grab my phone, and head to the lobby to make the call. It rings about four times before someone answers and after some preliminary questioning, I am quickly informed that Brick Wire believes I am the perfect candidate for what’s essentially corporate espionage. They want me to snoop around in Beacon’s system to figure out the time of their next product launch so Brick Wire can plan to overshadow it. Confused, I mull over the information I’ve just been thrown before asking the important question: “What’s in it for me?” They are essentially offering me compensation in exchange for insider intelligence on Beacon and, knowing it would be transparent if they did the spying themselves, they figured choosing a humble security engineer would be inconspicuous. I know Beacon had just hired SafeGuard to revamp their online security, but I wasn’t that interested considering tech companies are usually filled with people who think they could do your job better than you can. But, if I do this job, I will get money, and money pays for my trip to Majorca. I’ve always wanted to visit Majorca. Far away from here and filled with people that might not be able to speak to me. What more could a guy ask for?
Before I get ahead of myself, I have to think about this. Is this offer even legit? Is Brick Wire even a real company? Is it possible that I could go to jail for this? I don’t have solid answers to any of these questions, but my life is boring, so what do I have to lose? I could probably easily break down their firewalls and find this data they’re looking for, and there’s a lot of green and a trip an island at the end of this. I’d be stupid not to do it.
While I have faith in my abilities, tech companies are smart and won’t let just anyone mess around in their cyberspace. This is where my reputation comes in handy. I’m known as sort of a robot around our firm; an employee who comes in to do his job, asks no questions, and leaves quietly. Paranoid CEOs and companies with skeletons in their closets like me because I have better things to do than meddle in their business. Before I even receive a confirmation from Brick Wire, I email my boss and request the job at Beacon. He quickly agrees and gives me the details for the job: where to be and when to show up. Brick Wire’s response tells me what to look for in Beacon’s database and how to secure the information. I tell them I accept the job and they put me in touch was a representative to update him on my progress. Lord help me, I guess I’m doing this.
It’s my first day at Beacon and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. It’s not every day that you infiltrate a major tech conglomerate. Did I water my plants? Dammit Stuart, pull it together. You don’t own any plants. The Beacon security head, Mr. Banner, sits me down and explains what they need from me. Apparently, I’m simply updating their security software and setting up supplementary firewalls on the CEO’s computer. Since it’s such a straightforward job, I’m only going to be here for about a week. I have a week to locate, steal, and report classified information. Easy peasy.
“You might find some less-than-conventional operations in our system, Mr. Barns, but I trust you to employ confidentiality in this matter,” Mr. Banner says in a fake professional voice, “I would hate to have to inform your boss of any unsatisfactory performance.” I roll my eyes internally and wonder how much time would be saved if everyone just said what they mean. Although, I can’t say his odd choice of words didn’t make me a little suspicious. Less-than-conventional operations? What could that mean?
I start with their database, going through and downloading SafeGuard’s newest updates in order to protect Beacon’s database. Upon sifting through their catalogs, I was surprised by how quickly I discovered their launch times spreadsheet. Easy money. You insult my intelligence, Brick Wire. What I didn’t expect was what I found with a couple lazy scrolls. Virtual records of transactions between the Beacon finance department and unknown IP addresses in Europe and Asia. Purchased domains that don’t appear to be in any affiliation with Beacon. An entire folder of auto-destroy files including the names and addresses of fake, foreign LLC’s and secondary email accounts that Beacon operates under. What the hell is Beacon involved in? I don’t have time to figure it out, but I have a nagging feeling that it’s not legal. Do I get involved and potentially do some good, or do I sit to the side and simply do my job? I don’t have the time to decide as I hurry and download records of these transgressions onto a flash drive Brick Wire sent me, checking over my shoulder to make sure Mr. Banner isn’t watching me with those snake eyes of his. I shove the flash drive into my bag and finish setting up the security system, confirming there is no trace of my interfering.
About a week after my Indiana Jones-like escapade at Beacon Headquarters, I find myself at a classy restaurant waiting for the representative of Brick Wire to show up. It’s my first time actually meeting anyone from Beacon in person, and while I’d like to say I’m as unbothered as they come, the extra sweat on my hands and the bounce of my knee begs to differ. It’s the kind of restaurant that folds their napkins in a funky shape and asks you if you want your water sparkling or still. I always make a show of unfolding the napkin in the most obnoxious way possible. That’ll show ‘em. When the guy shows up, I’m forced to sit through excruciating small talk, as it seems we’re both trying to figure out if the other is the real deal. While we talk, I observe that the fit of his suit is so precise he must’ve been sewn into it. I find the fact that he obviously got his haircut from somewhere other than Great Clips and his knowledge of the wine menu quite intimidating as I pretend to choose between a White and a Red. His tie looks like it costs more than my rent and he speaks so formally I question if he’s a robot sent her by the Girl Scouts to seek revenge. You shut the door in their face one time and it’s all tears and cries for Mommy. That’s right. Capitalism ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, kids.
“Well?” The man asks as it seems he’s finally fed up with pleasantries.
I slip the flash drive under my napkin and slide it across the table. “I found what you were looking for, but I don’t know if knowing when they’re going to come out with a new phone will make up for your inferior technology. However, I did find something you and your company might find very intriguing.”
“And what is that?” Something about his tone pulled my eyebrows together and caused me to stutter. It almost sounded taunting.
“Uh…just some,” I pause as I search for the right word, “irregularities in their system.”
The man emits a short chuckle at my answer, but quickly composes himself to say, “Listen Stuart, you’re a clever guy so I’ll get straight to the point. Brick Wire never wanted intel on Beacon’s product launches. That was a ploy so we could get you into their computers without much questioning. We knew you’d be smart and nonchalant enough to easily break down their firewalls, and since their indiscretions are rather glaring, it would take you no time to uncover the shadier aspects of their business. The tricky part was trusting that you would find it relevant enough to download onto the flash drive, but I am glad to report that you have impressed us.” He pauses for the last part, leaning forward and dropping his voice to a low whisper. “Stuart Barns, did you know that Beacon has been making additional profit providing internet platforms for foreign human trafficking syndicates? And did you know that the evidence you gathered may have just saved millions?”
I don’t know whether to scrape my jaw off the floor or pinch myself as I stare at the man in front of me, trying to digest the bomb he just dropped. He looks rather proud of himself, whereas I’m sure I look like I’ve just been told pigs can fly. I left the restaurant that night with a $10,000 check in my pocket and the slightly uncomfortable realization that I just did something good. Something that doesn’t only benefit me. Something that will help others. Oi vey. I can’t think of a better time to go to Majorca.