Troubleshooter

Chapter 26 - Water Cooler

MY SECOND day at Strom Defense is starting like all the ones that are to come in the next forty years, Tom thought, looking down at his desk. It scared him a little bit to feel the routine action creeping up on him already. He didn't like it one bit. He booted up his computer and retrieved the paperwork from his steel container-locker.

Isabelle McAllister came by on her way from the coffee machine, with a big thermo-mug in her hand. Tom had little fashion sense, but his eyes travelled once up and down over her stylish gray costume.

"Ready for your second day, Tom?"

Tom patted the paper stack in front of him. "Sure am, Ms. McAllister."

"Did you run into any trouble with the IT guys?"

"No, Bernhard and David were very helpful. I might come to you later so that you can have a look at my first results. Just to see whether I am on the right track?"

"No problem. If my office door is open, feel free to drop in whenever you are ready."

Amy's voice came over the hidden earpiece. "She sounds nice. A bit more grown up than this girlie HR lady. Much better for you, just judging from her voice."

Tom muttered to himself when he saw that Isabelle was gone. "Here goes my schizophrenia again. I am talking to the little people in my head."

"I am not that little. Give me access, please, so that I can start working," Amy replied.

The computer was ready to login and Tom plugged the inconspicuous spy-USB-stick into the rear of the machine again. "Should come up now."

"Thank you, my little junior spy."

Tom remembered their embrace and flirty exchange the night before. Was she really too old for him? She was pretty old, in her thirties. But she was sexy in her punky-geeky way. Maybe he just missed his girlfriend, and then he thought about Jasmine. Life was complicated. Love was complicated. Or maybe he was just horny.

He glanced at the paper stack. Ready to earn his intern spare change and keep up his cover. Time to crunch some numbers. But first: a strong coffee.

The coffee bar was about ten cubicles away and at this hour of the morning had steady business. The machine rattled and hummed before it filled Tom's mug.

"Hi Tom, we missed you last night." David Hall, the co-worker, who had started with Tom yesterday, came in with James Callum in tow.

Tom moved away from the machine and stood at the high table, watching his colleagues filling up their mugs. "Yeah, sorry I missed it, but it was too spontaneous for me."

"That lie came easy," Amy whispered over the com.

"No problem," David said. "Maybe tonight for a brief pint in the pub?"

"Sure, chat me up when you leave. How were things your first day?"

David shrugged. "So far, so administrative. I still don't have all my accesses to do the work. The security clearances for the nasty pieces are a bit."

James nodded. "Same here."

"Can I ask, what are the nasty pieces that need to be so secure?" Tom was curious.

"You know, the actual defense technology-related stuff. There are various layers of security, and you are only able to approach the layers step by step," David explained.

"Blah, blah, blah. Ask them whether they have any morals or ethics when they code the lines that will kill little Taliban children." Amy was truly entertained.

Tom had to cringe inwardly; hopefully it didn't show on the outside.

"So, see you tonight for a drink."

"Coward," the Amy-voice in his head said.

When he was out of earshot, he quietly said. "Shut up, Amy. This drives me crazy. Do your work!"

"Do you know that I work better while I talk."

"Opposite is true here. Talk to your computer or buy an inflatable love-puppet in a sex store."

"I imagine that I actually talk to my computer and it talks back with the sex voice of a young stud—sorry, student. The voice is witty, wise and wonderful—"

"Amy, shut up! Or I will remove my earpiece!"

"Okay, you can't take an honest compliment."

"Not when the compliment is bouncing around in my head and I am talking to myself in a labyrinth of cubicles, working in a nowhere job which I hate already."

"Don't worry! Dolly Galore, life size, three anatomically correct openings, 39.99 Pounds, for overnight express, add 4.99. A steal!" Amy read.

"Three?"

"You are so innocent, Tomboy!"

Tom was typing in his numbers as he settled in his real-life work. A knock against the cubicle wall made him look up. Once more, it was David from IT.

"Man, you are deep in concentration. I was standing here like a minute or so, making little noises, but you are really into your thing," David said.

Tom was a little embarrassed. "Yeah, I can move into a zone of focus. Has always helped me in school. What can I do for you?"

"Didn't you request this special piece of software for your database access?" David asked.

"You mean the old version of the client software? Yes, it allows for some fancy stuff no longer available in the later version." Tom hoped that David wouldn't ask him further questions, as he only had the little la-di-da-briefing from Amy to refer to. But then he remembered that Amy was available just in his ear.

"I know. Whom did you have to sign for that? I could use it too for my streamline data analysis."

Tom looked at his notepad and pointed out the name that Jasmine had given him. "First Isabelle, my boss. So I assume, in your case the IT manager. And then Bernhard, the chubby guy from IT. Be careful, the old version might have some security flaws that prevent you from using it for your secret stuff."

"I will ask the IT-guy. Thanks. See you later." David walked away.

"Why, why, why, why, why did you have to tell him about possible security flaws? Don't spill our spy secrets here." Amy's voice.

Tom carefully looked around the corner of his cubicle to check whether David was really gone. "Last warning, Amy. I did not give away any spy stuff. This is common knowledge. I looked up the security flaws on the Internet, out of curiosity after you told me."

"But not on your company computer?"

Tom's silence was as good as a "yes".

"My little sexy voice friend. You do not ever do anything but work-related stuff on a company computer. Especially when a lawyer can later build a case around it. Sir, why did you Google for ‚fraudulent accounting practices' when we are actually missing one hundred million dollar?" Amy sighted.

"Sorry," a quiet and humbled Tom said. "My mistake."

Man, he was a lousy spy.

Amy paused and then mused, "Maybe we should indeed check the Google search terms inquired from the office."

"You can do that?" Tom asked.

"All traffic is logged. Maybe someone had been Googling 'super yacht', 'gold-plated toilet seats' or my favorite: 'plastic surgery facial modification'? Let me think about that approach."

"As long as it keeps you quiet," Tom muttered.

"I heard that! And all I say is: overnight express!"

Back to the chain gang.