Your mission should you choose to accept it...
A few weeks later we were no closer to a viable solution to our problem of breaking into the highly secure server room. Sure, I had come up with some pretty amazing ideas, but they were largely ignored by the group for some reason. After I suggested I sky dive off of a helicopter and through an air vent located on the roof Owen confiscated my Mission Impossible DVDs, and kindly asked me to refrain from helping formulate the plan. Since shortly thereafter I got medical clearance to return to work I didn't burn his bungalow down in protest. I still think the air vent was a viable option should we need it.
Since today was Sunday, and we had nothing better to day no matter how hard I tried to come up with something, Owen decided to start his DIY extension for his house, aka "the shed". I was supposed to help, but after I inadvertently shot a nail out of the nail gun into his camper he gave me a computer and promptly sat me down in a lawn chair. In my defense I've never been around power tools before, that could happen to anyone. However, I think I got the better end of the deal considering Owen and Barry were currently drenched in sweat building what essentially looked like a glorified shack while I sipped a cold beer, setting up Owen's email on his laptop.
"Are you sure you don't want me to help? That nail gun accidentally discharging was a one time thing," I called over to the pair. I didn't really want to help, but felt obliged to offer.
"If I hadn't moved that nail would be in my leg," Owen responded dryly.
"So, no?"
"No!" both Owen and Barry yelled at the same time. Jeez, almost shoot someone with a nail gun one time and they get all kinds of touchy.
"Alrighty then, let me know if you change your mind," I hollered, finishing up the Outlook setup, "I've almost got your email setup. How is it you've worked here this long and haven't done this? I'm surprised Claire hasn't murdered you in your sleep."
As soon as the system installed Owen's inbox exploded, the bing of incoming mail so constant it sounded like a hum. The red dot in the corner was climbing up towards 100 at an impressive rate. I didn't blame Owen for his aversion to email, it sucked, but this was cray cray.
"Well, the good news is I got your email account set up," I said, grimacing as the email count hit the hundred mark and showed no signs of slowing down.
"And the bad news," Owen replied, walking over to peer at the computer.
"You have 387 unread emails."
"I guess we know what you'll be doing today," he said, smiling.
"What! Why me? This is your email. You deal with it!" I screeched, standing up, attempting to hand him the laptop. Email was the devil. It was the equivalent of someone walking into your living room, crapping on the floor, and then expecting you to do something with it.
I had a hard time keeping up with my own email account, and by hard time I meant I walked around pretending to know what people were talking about when they referenced anything they sent me. It worked for me. However, sorting out this catastrophe was where I drew the line. Owen put his hands on his hips looking at me expectantly. I was getting ready to deliver the mother of all tongue lashings when I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. I let my eyes roam across his chest, down the flat planes of his abs, to that sexy V at his hips that disappeared underneath his board shorts.
I was fascinated watching the beads of sweat roll down his chest to his abs before disappearing behind the waistline of his shorts. I've never wanted to be a bead of sweat so bad before in my life. Licking my lips I resisted the urge to fan my face. Had someone cranked up the heat out here or something?
I wasn't thinking about his email anymore, in fact, I forgot what we were talking about all together. I wasn't sure I could form words at this point. It should be a crime to look that good in just board shorts and sweat. I wonder how dedicated Owen was to building that shed or if I could convince him to spend his time in a more "productive" manner. My inner slut had dug out her copy of advanced Kama Sutra and was brushing up on the finer details of The Bridge position. Personally, I think she may be overestimating my athletic ability on that one, and most definitely my flexibility. Just sayin'.
"See something you like?" he said in a deep voice saturated in desire, taking a step closer to me.
Yes, yes I did.
In fact, I hadn't seen something I liked this much since I'd seen Wendy Drake ride her brand new pink bicycle to school after Christmas break when I was nine years-old.
Just like that bike, I wanted to grab Owen, drag him home, and inspect him much, much closer.
Owen leaned over whispering in my ear, "While I'm all for you inspecting me to your heart's content, Barry's here."
I shot back away from him covering my mouth with my hands. I said that out loud?! Oh good lord, just kill me now.
"Besides, you did almost shoot me with a nail gun so you owe me on the email, don't you think?" He walked past me, slapping me lightly on my ass as he went.
"It wasn't even close to you!" I yelled, "And don't slap my ass or I will shoot you! On purpose!"
Owen just laughed, rejoining Barry to continue their man project. I huffed even though no one was around to see it, sitting back in the lawn chair looking at the laptop. While I think Owen was overreacting with the nail gun incident, it would have only grazed his leg after all, laptop duty was better than the other option. Trying to pretend like I was contributing to the shed while really fantasizing over Owen's half-naked body standing right next to Barry. My dignity, and my lady garden, was safer with the computer.
I decided to start with the newest emails and work my way down. Most were irrelevant since someone else had either responded or the email was so old it obviously wasn't important. There were numerous emails requested progress reports on the raptors, mostly from InGen, Hoskins specifically. Deleting those without reading them made me smile, a lot.
About two-thirds of the way down I saw an email from Simon's secretary, Skeletor, with the subject 'Annual Investors Gala'. Opening it I noticed almost everyone in the company was included on the 'to' line. It outlined the details surrounded the upcoming event to be held at headquarters. Scrolling down, I saw that Masrani Global Corporation had invited numerous potential investors to the party in hopes of securing funding for the park. Attendance at this event for employees was mandatory, and the attire was listed as formal.
I sat back in the lawn chair, biting my lip in contemplation. The gala was in a little over a month, and almost everyone on the island would be there. According to the invitation the event was being held on a private floor in the headquarters building at the main park, on the same floor as the server room as fate would have it. Slowly, but surely a plan was forming in my mind.
I grabbed my cell phone quickly dialing Lowery. For this to work I would need to ensure a few details were covered first.
"Hey Jo," Lowery answered.
"Hey, did you get an invite to the investor's gala next month?"
"Yeah, I think so. I'm pretty sure everyone got one."
"You're not going. You're going to be in the control room that night," I spoke rapidly, the idea taking shape in my mind.
"I am?" He sounded disappointed.
"Yes, but don't worry I'll make it up to you." I didn't know how I would make it up to him, but I would. Maybe I could try to convince Vivian he wasn't a creepy stalker. "Before, you said there were only a few people with access to server room."
"Yes, there are only five people who have access."
"And they will all be at the gala that night, right?" I questioned.
"For sure, Mr. Masrani is on a rampage about 100% attendance."
"Who are the five people who have access?" Please let there be someone on the list I could use.
"Hold on, let me check." I heard him typing in the background. "OK, Craig Simmons, Alan Watson…"
"Watson. Is that the short, kind of heavy set guy who's balding and is always starring at my ass when we're in the cafeteria?" I asked him.
"Yeah, that's him. Jo, what…"
I hung up the phone, dropping the laptop into the lawn chair and racing towards Owen and Barry. I rounded the bungalow, the two of them deep in discussion on whether they should bolt the addition directly into the camper or build a frame instead. Here's an idea, light the thing on fire.
"I know how to get to the server!" I said impatiently.
They both stopped talking, turning to stare at me.
"Jo, if this involves a parachute and an aircraft of any kind…" Owen started.
I glared at him. "No smartass, next month is the annual investor's gala at headquarters. Everyone will be there, which means the server room will be empty. That's the perfect opportunity to sneak in and poke around."
I glanced back-and-forth between them as they silently considered my plan. They both seemed skeptical.
"That takes care of the server room being empty, but we still need an access card to get in," Owen pointed out.
"I'll take care of that," I assured him, bouncing back and forth of my feet. We finally had an opening and I was pumped up. It was a shame I'd have to wait a whole month to put my amazingness on display.
"Care to fill us in on the details?" Owen asked pointedly.
Not really.
"One of the guys who works there has a soft spot for my ass," I told him.
Barry burst out laughing as Owen frowned, his eyes narrowing on me.
"Want to run that by me one more time?" he asked, his jaw ticking slightly.
"The guy likes me or at least likes to look at me. I'm going to borrow his access card. Discreetly of course."
"By borrow, I'm assuming you mean steal?" Barry asked, smiling bright. He knew me so well.
"Technically no, I'm not going to keep it so it's not considered stealing." Didn't he watch Law and order? "I'll leave it in the server room after we're done that way when he eventually finds it he'll think he just accidentally left it," I smiled back at him.
"It's as good a plan as any," Barry said, turning to Owen who hadn't moved an inch. I wasn't sure he was even breathing. The veins on his throat were protruding, and he was opening and closing his fists methodically.
"How exactly do you plan to just borrow a highly restricted access card?" Owen asked in a clipped tone. Jeez, hadn't this man learned I was unstoppable when I put my mind to something diabolical. It was were I made my money, and this time I was aiming for the jackpot.
"They're called boobs Owen."
Owen's eyes flicked down to my chest with a crooked grin, and I resisted the urge to puff out my boobs. Sports bras didn't offer a very realistic interpretation of what I had to offer. Barry, on the other hand, had his eyes trained on the ground with the focus of a tomahawk missile. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't move his head if a nuclear bomb exploded in the front yard.
"Did you just quote Erin Brockovich?" he asked smiling slightly.
"Maybe." I've had way too much free time lately.
"If you steal his access card he'll report it and have a new one issued before the day is out," Owen supplied, eyebrows raised. This guy was a one-man rain cloud on my parade today.
"Borrow, not steal. And that's why I won't borrow it until the day of the gala. I can arrange for us to run into each other that afternoon. By the time he realizes it's missing we'll have what we need," I said smugly. I was on a roll today.
Owen shook his head, looking out towards the ocean. Barry and I eyed each other silently, he shook his head, a smile on his face. It was our best option. Hell, it was our only option.
"We need someone in the control room that night. Otherwise we'll be flying blind once we get in the lab," Owen spoke up, his back still turned to us.
"Lowery. I can get him uninvited to the gala, and suggest the safest place for him with potential investors roaming around is the control room. It won't be that hard of sell considering how outspoken he is about the park," I supplied.
"This could work Owen. If we are serious about finding out what InGen is doing concerning genetics, not to mention the raptors, this is our best shot," Barry said.
"It's a good plan," Owen replied, finally turning to face us.
I jumped up and down clapping my hands. Finally, we had something we could use. A plan that would finally propel from our stagnant position. We could only hope all the risk would be worth the reward. I had to admit, as reluctant as I was to have others involved in this plot there was no way I'd be able to see this to fruition without them. It was a strange feeling to depend on people. It was scary as shit to realize I cared bout those same people.
Taking a deep breath I tried to calm myself down. We could pull this off, it was a solid plan. I mean, all we had to do was borrow a highly restricted access card from one of only five people, break into a secure server without getting caught, and take a look at classified corporate information. Easy.
"You're going to need a dress Josephine," Owen commented sweetly.
"Wait, what?" I asked, suddenly confused.
Owen slung his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. "It's a formal event. I'm assuming tuxedos for guys and evening gowns for women."
Crap.
Every time I thought I had my ducks in a row, I turned around and one of those fuckers had waddled off.
OtakuWhovian1224: Patience young grasshopper, it's coming :) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!
sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it!
xxyangxx2006: Thanks for the great review...hope you enjoyed the latest.
DesertVulpesZerda: I'm too lazy to do most things pretty much all the time, no judgement here :) I'm digging Jowen, nicely done!
animagirl: You're back! Yeah! Thanks for sticking it out and for thinking Owen is hot again ;)
angelicedg: You are right, Jo's never had any kind of relationship like the one she has with Owen. She's flying by the seat of her pants...thanks for reading!