AN: Thanks to Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl and Qweb for reviewing the last chapter. I do actually have the whole story written; it's 31 chapters total, and I'm publishing 1 every day. I apologize for not posting yesterday; I will try to get chapter 7 up later this evening to make up for it.
"Welcome to Stark Industries, Mr. Lang," the security manager said, holding his hand out.
Scott took the hand and shook it firmly. "Thank you. I'm glad to be here," he replied. He looked around the high-tech security room in amazement.
"Pretty impressive, right?" the manager said, noticing his look. He grinned proudly and explained, "This facility has the most state-of-the-art security center in the state: Our monitors sweep the cameras located at all the entrances, along the outermost hallways, and in the parking structure. We have biometric locks on the most sensitive labs and offices. Security checkpoints at the entrances as well as protecting the secure areas. Our guards sweep the entire perimeter at night on an hourly cycle, with backup in the building. This is practically a fortress. And all of it is coordinated through this room."
"It's incredible," Scott observed. "So where do I start?"
The manager answered, "First, I'm going to give you a tour of the areas we are responsible for. Then, we'll get your uniform. Finally, you get to meet the rest of the night shift."
"Damn it," one of the technicians monitoring the computers muttered, just loudly enough for Scott and the manager to hear.
"What's the matter? Computer acting up again?" the manager asked, walking over to the offending computer.
"It's shorting out again," the tech explained. "Every few minutes the view gets fuzzy for a few seconds."
"Submit another work order," the manager ordered resignedly. "We'll get technical support down here in the morning to take a look."
"Would you mind if I looked at it?" Scott asked, walking over to stand next to the manager.
"You know computers?" the manager turned toward him. He indicated the computer and said, "Be my guest, though we never take the security computers offline at night."
"Won't be a problem," Scott chuckled. He indicated the pile of old computer hardware against the opposite wall under a table. "Bring that CPU over, along with those wires and connectors."
The tech got up and brought the requested materials over. Scott set the old CPU next to the malfunctioning one, plugged it in, turned it on, and started attaching wires between the two. He connected an Ethernet cord from one computer to the other, and then another one from the wall to the old CPU.
"This old CPU will take over what the malfunctioning one was doing without any break in coverage," Scott explained, typing a few lines of code into the malfunctioning computer. Satisfied, he pressed "Enter." The malfunctioning CPU shut down as the old CPU took over monitoring the security cameras. Scott unattached the malfunctioning CPU from the wall, monitor, and other CPU, and brought it over to another table. He started the computer up and attached a spare monitor and keyboard. The malfunctioning computer booted up slowly, and once it had Scott typed in some lines of code and ran a few diagnostic programs. Satisfied with the results, he started typing computer code furiously into a new command prompt window. While he was typing, the view on the monitor started shaking.
"I found a virus embedded in the RAM, but it's gone now," Scott eventually announced, looking up from the screen. "As far as the shaking view, the problem isn't with the software on the computer. It's probably with the output to the monitor."
"Can you fix that?" the manager asked, giving him a calculating look.
"Not a problem," Scott replied, shutting down the computer. As soon as the computer had finished turning off, he turned the CPU around, pulled his multi-tool out of his pocket, and started unscrewing the housing on the back of the CPU. When it was off, he located the monitor output. He detached the connector and examined it closely. Satisfied, he opened the back of another spare CPU and removed its output connector. Finally, he replaced the malfunctioning connector with the new one and screwed it in. As he was returning the CPU casing to its place, he happened to look inside and see an unfamiliar component attached to the motherboard. After carefully grounding himself with a wire, he reached in with the multi-tool and gently pulled the unfamiliar chip off.
"What is that?" the manager asked, staring at the circuit with a confused expression on his face.
"I'm not sure what it is, but whatever it is, it doesn't belong on the motherboard," Scott replied, examining the circuit closely. He turned it over in his palm and tested its weight.
After watching Scott examine the chip for a few minutes, the manager cleared his throat and said, "Well, I'm going to go report this situation up the ladder. If you could…" he indicated the other computers.
"Sure, no problem, boss," Scott agreed, setting the chip down on the table beside him.
"Okay, I will return in a bit, and then we'll get on with your tour of the facility," the manager told him nervously, backing out the door. All of the technicians in the room glanced at each other nervously and quickly excused themselves as well. Soon Scott was alone with the computers.
Scott had just finished examining all of the computers in the security center when the manager returned two hours later, followed by a pair of detectives. They were followed by a pair of additional Stark Industries security guards, who took positions on either side of the door.
"I checked all of the computers and found these devices in about half of them," Scott reported, holding up a handful of circuits and indicated the affected computers. "I don't know what they are for, but they look like a much more advanced version of a key logger."
"How did you find them?" one of the detectives asked, holding out an evidence bag.
Scott dumped them into the bag and answered, "The monitor on that computer over there was acting up, and I was trying to fix it. I determined that the problem was with the output connector, and after I'd finished replacing the damaged one, I happened to glance at the motherboard while I was replacing the cover on the back of the CPU. This piece of hardware caught my eye, I pulled it out, and realized it was not something that belonged there."
"We'll need to look into this," the other detective told the security manager. "We'll let you know what we find."
After the detectives left, the manager turned to Scott and said, "Mr. Lang, shall we take that tour now?"
Scott quietly followed the manager out of the security center. As soon as they were out of earshot of the security center, the manager asked, "How did you know how to do that?"
Scott let out a sigh and debated what to do. He could lie to the manager, though the lie could be found out. He could tell the truth, but then the manager would press to know why a man with two master's degrees was working as a security guard. For as understanding as Mr. Byrne was, Scott didn't know if the security manager would appreciate having an ex-con working the night shift. At a loss for what to do, Scott was silent.
Eventually, he made his decision. "I have a master's degree in computer programming," he began resignedly. "Actually, I have two, one in computer programming and one in electronics engineering."
"But with your qualifications, why are you—?"
"Because I earned them in prison," Scott interrupted with a humorless laugh. "Who's going to hire an ex-con? I wouldn't."
"We have a strict policy against hiring ex-cons. How'd you get this job?" the manager asked suspiciously.
"I convinced Mr. Byrne he could trust me. He said he would let me start off here and that if I proved myself, he would move me on to something more in line with my qualifications," Scott explained plainly.
"I'm sure there's more to it than that," the manager observed, stopping and looking Scott square in the eye. Seeing Scott's reticence, he continued, "but I suppose I don't need to know.
"I trust John Byrne's judgment; you certainly convinced me back there, especially with the way you fixed the computer and uncovered those circuit-things. After that, I don't care if you're an ex-con; I'm glad to have you working for me. Tell you what: I'll pay you overtime if you will handle all of the security department's technical problems. I hate having to call in the geek snobs every time a computer freezes up; I'd much rather be able to take care of it all in-house. You willing to do that?"
"It would be my pleasure, sir."
"Excellent," the manager smiled. He turned and started walking down the corridor. Scott hurried to catch up to him. "If you look to your left, this here is the security break room. The showers and locker room are through that door on the other end. We have a pot of coffee brewing at all times; it's automated, so it will automatically brew a fresh pot on the hour or when the pot is empty. No tar-like swill for us!"
The manager walked a little further down the hall and placed his hand on a palm reader recessed into the wall. The reader turned green momentarily, and a crack appeared in the wall. The crack slid apart a couple feet, just far enough for a man to walk in. Inside, Scott could see rows of weapons securely stored in specially-designed slots. "This is the security armory. Handguns, rifles, shotguns… we could fight off an invasion by a small third-world country with our armory." He turned to Scott and asked, "Do you have a felony on your record?"
"Mr. Byrne talked with my new LA parole officer and vouched for me. My parole officer agreed to sign off on giving me a concealed carry permit," Scott answered.
"Good," the manager nodded, pulling the nearest Smith and Wesson M & P .357 Sig. out of its recessed slot in the wall. "Put your palm on the reader," he instructed. When Scott did so, the palm reader blinked blue twice before turning green. The manager handed the gun over to him along with a clip and said, "This is now your service weapon. It stays in the armory when you're not on duty, and on your person when you are. Standard procedure is to use nonlethal means if possible, lethal force if necessary. You are expected to practice on the shooting range in the basement with your service weapon at least an hour each week. The first hour is paid; the rest we just pay for the ammo. You should also practice with one of the other weapons just in case."
Scott returned the gun to its place in the armory and stepped out. As soon as he and the manager were out, the door slid shut automatically. Scott hurried after the manager down the hall toward the exit. The two walked out of the security building and toward the main Stark Industries building.
After the manager showed Scott around the other Stark Industries buildings, they walked along the perimeter fence. Scott looked around himself carefully, trying to remember how everything looked in the daylight. Finally, they returned to the security building.
The security manager led Scott into his office and handed him a box. "Here are your security uniforms, along with mace, taser, flashlight, radio, holster, belt, and badge. Your ID card will be printed out and waiting for you at the gate when you arrive tomorrow night. Do you have any questions?"
Scott opened the box and pulled out the contents to inspect them. Satisfied, he returned them to the box and closed it up. He looked back up at the manager and thought for a moment. "No, sir," he finally said. "But I do want to thank you for still giving me this opportunity, even after finding out what I am."
The security manager looked back at him for a long moment. He slowly answered, "Lang, I decided not to make a fuss about your record because of what you are."
"Sir?"
"Scott, what you are is a good man," he said. "Smart. A problem-solver. Surprising as it sounds, I would even consider you to be honest; you wouldn't have gotten this job in the first place if John Byrne didn't think you were an honest man and could be trusted. Finding out that you spent some time in prison doesn't change that immediate impression of you. It just means you get to be my personal security department computer tech!"
