-Not a fool…this time-
Walter sat at his desk in the silence of the empty garage. The only sound was the tap, tap, tapping of computer keys as he worked. His laptop was open on the corner of the desk; he was working with the more powerful desk top unit- doing the coding for the security system he had been contracted to provide. The last two security coding jobs paid off the garage and left a buffer in his bank account. He no longer had to worry about keeping a roof over his head. This job when finished would give him a very good buffer in his bank account.
Over the years he had written millions of lines for assorted hypothetical systems for business models. Having such files already written and ready, when one was needed, it was but a matter of some alterations specific to the customer and it was ready to go. Due to this his turnaround was exceptionally quick and he was gaining quite the reputation in the Fortune 500 'community'. It was turning into quite a lucrative line of work. Not HIS reputation, the reputation of 'Cyclone' the replacement for the long defunct 'Scorpion'. 'Cyclone' a family- made up of one. Scorpion was dead, eaten by a centipede. Cyclone, a family of one as he needed no others, as he had said many times.
He sat back, giving his hands a rest and got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. The garage was fairly empty now since the demise of Scorpion seven months ago. He had sent the Proton Arnold to the thriving Centipede Partners office for Ralph. The other desks were removed by the local thrift store, the Datsun sat in the garage bay where the rocket used to reside. Quiet, dark, solitude, a Cyclone of one. Walter returned to his desk, coffee in hand to continue his work. An hour goes by with nothing but the tap, tap, tapping of his computer keys.
The laptop on the corner of the desk signals incoming mail. He looks to it- from Homeland Security… directly into the trash. And he went back to work.
Homeland, after the demise of Scorpion did not renew his contract and transferred to Centipede Partners, and assigning Agent Gallo to them. Not much call for a mathematician/computer genius alone, so Cabe was gone, Homeland was gone, as were the Homeland paychecks- not a problem, he didn't need them.
Walter continued with his job, tap, tap, tapping away on his keyboard.
Another incoming mail alert- Homeland Security again…. straight to trash.
Returning once again to his job, a few more lines, aaaaaaaand DONE. Yes, this one will give him an even bigger buffer in his account. He pulled a desk drawer open, pulled out a new external hard drive, got it out and hooked it into his computer to download the completed security program. The customer has a currier coming in the morning to pick it up. The funds in a holding account to be released when the system is accepted. Did not have to interact with people other than the currier and he was developing a system of direct transfer of the program so everything could be done digitally. Who needed people in this day and age. How many times had he said he didn't need anyone- he is proving just how true those words were.
On his down time, while the transfer to the hard drive was working he used the laptop and scanned some science journals then got lost in the time warp of links to countless sites. One site was 'Can-u-Solve This' which had numerous equations, formula, theoretical, logical, hypothetical problems for people to attempt solutions. The comments after each were possible solution or discussions on how to solve and were generally interesting to read. Some people's usernames were humorous as were their attempted and failed solutions.
One hypothetical caught Walter's eye. He read it through then looked at the transfer bar 30%, so he had time and sat back to think. He closed his eyes and postulated. Being a hypothetical, he thought of three predicates, worked each through to logical conclusions. Mind games. He again checked the program transfer display- 82% so still had time. He set up a persona and wrote out the three conclusions in the context of the three assumptions of the hypothetical and hit send. If anyone tried to backtrack his entry it would be routed to a computer café in Denver, Colorado.
The transfer was completed. He pulled the external drive, placed it in a static free bag and boxed it up. Printed the customers information and safety taped it to ensure the box was tamper proof and set it aside for the currier in the morning. Another job done. Three in the morning- another good thing about working alone- he could keep the hours as he saw fit- work straight through for twenty-seven hours, sleep for six or ten as needed then do it again. He did fall into a rabbit hole a couple times, but managed to extricate himself- eventually.
The laptop again signaled incoming- Homeland Security AGAIN, so straight to trash. He then blocked that to make sure they did not bother him again. He was tired so he hiked up the stairs to the loft, took a shower and fell into bed for ten hours of dreamless sleep.
Seven months of doing these jobs and the electronic transfers of funds, now that the garage was paid off amounted to a bit over three million. Bless those Fortune 500 companies and their voracious need for security. Lots coming in, very little going out as he did not need much as long as he had electricity to keep his computers cranked up. He did not see or talk to anyone except through e-mail or when groceries or pizza was delivered, he was just part of his computer system, an extension of the machinery.
BANG, BANG. "Hey O'Brien"… BANG, BANG on the door.
He brought up his security feed to see Simone. Interpol agent Simone of all people banging on his door.
"Walter, you said if I needed you I knew where you were- need your help. BANG, BANG. "O'Brien!"
"Just a minute." He went to the door, unlocked it and let her in.
"My god, O'Brien, what happened to you?"
"Been working, what makes you think something is wrong?"
"Jeans and t-shirt, long hair, need a shave, and thin as a rail. Don't you eat?"
Walter pointed to the sofa for her to sit. "Want some coffee?"
"No thanks." She sat and watched him go into the kitchen and get himself a coffee.
He stood leaning against the kitchen doorway. "You didn't come here from Europe to comment on my attire and eating schedule. What is your problem and how can I help?"
"I am sure you are aware of the tech farms in Russia. They are wreaking havoc on financial systems throughout Europe. We have some of the best computer people that have put a small dent in their incursions, so now they have attacked the Interpol system itself. Has gotten to the point we can not transfer anything digitally, and that means we are practically at a standstill. I was here in the States working with FBI on some criminal bunch getting over here. Got that all cleared up when the Paris sector let me know of the problems that are going on over there. The FBI did some checking for me and said some Fortune 500 companies have been getting security system from an outfit in LA called Cyclone, a company owned by one Walter O'Brien. So, here I am. You said I knew where to find you if I needed your help, and I certainly do before the entire Interpol system is totally compromised."
Walter stood thinking for a few minutes, dark brown eyes staring off into the gods know where.
Simone watched him go into the 'zone'. She had seen a hint of this in the case he was on years ago so she just sat and watched, fascinated how his mind functioned. Five minutes passed as he gazed into space…. another seven minutes passed. She wondered if she should approach him, but hesitated and let it go. Another four minutes passed when he gave a little smile, blinked, went to his desk to start going through files on his desktop. Twenty-three minutes in and he said "coffee", so she took the empty cup from his desk into the kitchen and poured hot coffee and returned to put it on his desk within reach. "Thanks" he said without looking up from the flat screen and continued typing. A few minutes went by, he picked up the cup and drained it then went back to tapping the keyboard. Simone sat on the sofa watching his complete focus to the exclusion of everything around. Three hours later, he opened a desk drawer, pulled out an external hard drive, plugged it in and started to transfer the program to it. He then sat back looked at her and said "Should be ready to go shortly."
"OK, what 'should be ready shortly?" Simone asked. "A little explanation for the less than computer guru class would be nice."
"This hard drive, once my program is downloaded into it should secure your Interpol system from outside incursions. There will be numerous firewalls and layers of encryption and security protocols that should keep outside systems from infiltrating."
"You mean you just made a security system that will keep us from being hacked in a couple hours when our people have been working weeks to no avail?
"Simone, you need to understand I have made programs- millions of lines of code on hypothetical scenarios over the years. I just had to remember the particulars of the file involved. So, yes, I did in a few hours what your techs could not do in weeks because I spent years doing codes for such a hypothetical for years. That is what I do with downtime or when bored, I write programs for hypotheticals…. my kind of fun," he said with a smile.
Simone asked, "So, when the transfer to this hard drive is complete can anyone set it up? Would be nice if you would go to Paris and ensure it is done right….our guys are good, but it is your system. Interpol will foot the bill and you will get a very good paycheck when all checks out."
She looked at him- gaunt, long hair, needing a shave…. the jeans and t-shirt were not bad, though. "Looks like you could use some time away from LA and get some good French cuisine into you. Got a wife or girlfriend? Welcome to come along for a nice vacation while you work."
Walter looked at her. "No, no one, as usual."
"Well good. Go take a shower shave, dress decent and I will book us a flight to Paris- first class, thanks to Interpol."
"I have to be here for a currier to pick this up- ten in the morning, after that OK, off to France for a while. Will be good to get out of here- go ahead and book your flight earliest possible after eleven in case the currier is stuck in traffic." Walter looked at Simone for a moment then headed up to the loft to shower, shave and pack for a trip.
Simone pulled out her phone and called to book the soonest flight to Paris. Here it is, Monday and the earliest is Wednesday morning. Damn, stuck in LA another day. She booked two first class seats using the Interpol account, tickets to be picked up two hour before the flight at LAX.
She looked at Walter's computer showing the transfer bar display at 14%. Guess it really is a big program. Millions of lines of code- for fun…. go figure. She glanced at the loft hearing the water running. He is thinner than he was but still the same intense personality that attracted her when here the last time. She was disappointed he had 'somewhere else to be' that night.
He looks like he has been alone for quite a while, and Paris can do wonders for people…. and he really is European, after all. We shall see…..
She heard the water shut off and went to the foot of the stairs. She called up "Walter- how about some dinner? You maybe can go days without eating, but I'm hungry. What do you say?"
Walter came out of the loft to the top landing in just his jeans, no shirt or shoes, towel around his neck. "What are you in the mood for? Go out or delivery? Would like to keep an eye on the download- what is the per cent on the display?"
Simone looked at the computer screen "32%."
"'Bout right, big file, like I said."
"So pizza delivered I take it. You Americans and your pizza. Should I call the place on the placard by the refrigerator? That your usual? What should I order… you don't want anchovies, do you?"
"Good grief" Walter said coming down the stairs bare footed and still only in jeans, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "What do you like?"
"Anything- without anchovies."
He went to his desk for his phone, speed dialed the pizza delivery. Ordered one large sausage extra cheese to be delivered to O'Brien. "Yup, as usual. OK, thanks" Put the phone back on his desk and checked the display. "Pizza in forty-five minutes- no anchovies. I do not have wine, beer or booze, so you have a choice of water, coffee or tea." He went into the kitchen to get himself some coffee.
"The earliest I could get a flight was Wednesday morning at ten so you are stuck with me until then. What tea you have?"
"Earl Gray, black, orange spice. That's it…. stuck with you, huh?"
"Well, I have my stuff in the rental car- left the hotel that was across town figuring I could grab you kicking and screaming off to Paris to fix out problem in person. So much for my best laid plans. Orange spice, by the way, please."
Walter got a mug from the cabinet, filled it with water then put it in the microwave for a minute, then put a tea bag and a spoon in the cup and handed it to her as she was watching the downloading bar display on the desk top screen.
"Stuck with you, huh?" he said again. "Well, you have a choice- floor, downstairs couch, upstairs couch or in bed with me."
Bang-bang "Pizza is here" and he went to the door while pulling some bills out of his jeans pocket. He returned to the desk and put the pizza down, went to the kitchen to get plates, napkins and utensils. He pulled a chair next to his desk for her. then sat in his chair and opened the pizza box. He looked at the download display bar again, "47% so still have a way to go." He said. "Make your decision? Do I get pillow and blanket for the floor, couch of your choice, or can I expect some warm company? I was a fool to leave you the last time you were here. I do not want to be a fool again, but it is your decision."
Simone looked at him. "I don't know if you were a fool last time, but I guarantee I won't be a fool this time."