Chapter 1
Monday 9 a.m. Honolulu time, 11 a.m. Seattle time
Arnold recognized the 206 area code as Seattle’s. But who the hell was Noah Cain?
The SIM card in his iPhone accommodated two different phone numbers and the call was ringing his “business” line. More work? Hopefully. Although his present workload was maxed. For now.
Arnold swiped Accept, put the phone to his ear.
“Gold and Associates.”
He’d chosen this rather ambitious name for his new business in spite of it being a one-banana show. At least, for now. If you thought about it, it sounded... well, more established than, say, Gold Rent A Geek.
“Mr. Gold?” A silky-smooth tenor, the voice of an older man, a professional.
“At your service. What can I do for you?”
“I am Noah Cain, senior partner of the law firm, Cain, Tidwell, Stowell. We wish to engage your services immediately and I emphasize immediately. We’re up against an extremely difficult matter at a critical time that requires your expertise.”
Arnold waited, expecting further explanation of “the matter,” but heard only the hushed background static of a satellite connection. After a few beats, Arnold said, “Cool! What’s the problem?” Who could argue with a new client, right?
Cain hesitated.
“Because of the extremely sensitive nature of this issue, the group will only discuss specifics in person, and then, only after our non-disclosure agreement is signed. These stipulations are non-negotiable.”
Wow! He’d never faced a situation like this before. This alone piqued his interest.
“Ah…” Arnold’s mind now racing at Mach II, grappling with how best to handle such an unusual situation, “you’re in Seattle, right?”
“We are.”
“Well then, there’s a slight problem. Although this is my 206 number, I’m actually in our Honolulu offices at the moment.”
Our Honolulu offices. Absolutely loved the sound of that. At the moment he was kicking back on the deck of his house with a fresh cup of Kona blend, scanning Google News on his Surface—his morning ritual.
“Your website states your group maintains offices in Seattle and Honolulu. We assume this means that you provide services in both cities. Is this not correct?”
“No, no, it’s one hundred percent true. I do work in both cities.” Although this was the first time this particular dilemma presented itself. Probably, only on account of one hundred percent of his present clients were in Honolulu. Yes, he’d worked for a handful of Seattle clients, but those jobs were easily handled remotely via internet. Fact was, his real “Honolulu Office” was nothing more than a desk in the guest room which housed SAM, his ever-expanding artificial intelligence system. With his new Green Lake house now ninety-nine percent complete, his Seattle Office would likely become a laptop on the kitchen table.
“The problem, Mr. Cain, is I’m in Honolulu at the moment, so meeting in person is impossible. I’m happy to schedule a Zoom call now if you like. How does that sound?”
“No, a virtual meeting is unacceptable. I feared this might be the case, so the firm is prepared to dispatch our corporate jet to pick you up and fly you here straightaway. But I must know now if you’re willing to come or not. If not, we will, of course, move on to another company, no harm no foul. What’s your answer, Mr. Gold?”
Private jet? Awesome!
He’d never flown in one, much less set foot in one. And thinking about it now, he’d never been within a hundred feet of one. That experience alone would make the trip worthwhile. Not only that, but here was an opportunity to enjoy his much-anticipated first night in his newly built home (although he would prefer the inaugural sleep-over to include Rachael). The combination of these two experiences would make the mondo pain in the ass of delaying his present work seriously worth it. Adding to the rapidly growing list of pluses: an opportunity to lock in a new customer for a business he was building solely on word-of-mouth.
What’s not to like, right?
“Wow, that’s extremely generous, Mr. Cain, but just out of curiosity, why me?” Uh oh, that didn’t sound so hot. There had to be a more diplomatic way to phrase the question without sounding so, well, surprised at being offered work. Truth be told, he totally sucked as a salesman.
“You were chosen because of an excellent reputation for being extremely discreet. I can’t emphasize too strongly how greatly we value discretion. I also understand you’re quite canny at quickly and effectively resolving extremely complex IT issues. These attributes elevated you to our first choice.”
Seriously? Sounded as if Cain was blowing smoke up his ass. Regardless, the mystery cloaking this job offer was making it as alluring as a bug zapper to a moth. The problem he now faced—should he accept the trip—was how to handle his pending projects. Yes, he could put them aside for a few days, but new work would, hopefully, always be popping up and he didn’t want to become too backlogged or he’d piss off customers. On the other hand, each project seemed to boil down to nothing more than boring routine security evaluations and software updates. None of which would suffer horribly from a delay of whatever few days this job might take.
Assuming, of course, he accepted the mystery gig. That remained to be seen.
“Well?” Cain asked, clearly growing impatient.
So why aren’t you jumping at this, dude?
Ill-defined tentativeness cautioned him. Why?
Well, for one thing (and a major thing at that), was Cain’s reluctance—especially after extolling Arnold’s reputed discretion—to disclose the slightest hint of the “issue.” This was a mondo red flag. And then there was the expense of sending their jet for him. Would it make him feel indebted? Pressured? Unduly force him to accept a job he might otherwise decline? Most definitely.
“Mister Cain, I have no idea what the cost of flying a private jet here and back but can only imagine it’s a bundle. I’d hate to see your firm waste the money if your issue’s not one I’m equipped to handle. I guess what I’m saying is that unless you can at least give me a clue as to what the problem is, I’ll be forced to decline your generous offer.”
There! Can’t be faulted for that one, right?
Cain hesitated, then: “I can tell you it involves ransomware. But that’s all.”
All right! Arnold had worked a couple of cases as a consultant for an internet security firm operated by two other hackers who required his particular expertise on a specific aspect of the case. The only big issue was that “ransomware” spanned a vast spectrum of case difficulty, ranging from absurdly easy cases to the you’re-impossibly-screwed-fork-over-the-money scams, so in good conscience he wanted to make sure they weren’t overlooking other options.
“Mr. Cain, I’m sure you’re well aware of this—seeing how you’re a lawyer and all— but have you considered contacting the FBI? They’re experts on—”
“To be painfully blunt, Mr. Gold. We do not want the FBI—or any other law enforcement agency for that matter—involved in this. Am I clear?”
Wow, emphatic. And strange.
“Oookay... so next question: have you considered simply paying the ransom to make it go away?”
Although he didn’t have a clue how much money was being demanded or if Cain’s firm could afford it, his conscience insisted that he ask.
Cain uttered an exasperated sigh.
“Mr. Gold, shall I dispatch the jet or not? I need your answer. If not, we’ll move on.”
Hmm, good question. Attractive as the job sounded, a vaporous cautionary note echoed in the murky depths of Arnold’s consciousness. How concerned should he be over Cain’s reluctance to discuss their problem on the phone?
Am I just being hypercautious?
C’mon, dude, decision time.
The attraction of spending his first night in the new house in addition to flying in a private jet was producing a hyper-seductive cocktail strong enough to submerge his concerns. But to protect himself, he threw out one caveat.
“Okay, I’m in. But just to be crystalline, at this point I’m agreeing only to discuss the issue. Flying over does not mean I’ll accept the job. I can only make that decision after I know more details. Is this perfectly clear?”
A bit harsh maybe, but necessary.
“Outstanding! Now that that part’s settled, you can expect a non-disclosure agreement in your email inbox straightaway. Please sign and return it immediately as the plane will not leave the tarmac until I have your signed copy in hand. Be sure to also sign a hard copy to submit in person upon arriving in our offices. Any further questions?”
“Your email just arrived. I’ll take care the moment I hang up. Oh, before I forget, I require a two-day retainer paid in Bitcoin.” I figured the Bitcoin thing might slow the lawyer down. “Deposited into my account before I set foot on the plane.” Retainer. He liked the sound of that too. Sounded so, well, professional, like something Mr. Davidson would say.
“Done. What’s your daily fee?”
Arnold told him the fee and that he would include his Bitcoin wallet info with the signed NDA.
“Done.”
Really? I mean, how many lawyers have immediate access to cryptocurrency?
This too gave him pause.
“You said earlier that this is your cell, did you not?”
“Correct. Is this your cell as well, Mr. Cain?”
“It is. I’ll text you the moment the aircraft leaves the runway. The plane is already fueled and has two pilots standing by for the word. Anything else before we hang up, Mr. Gold?”
“No.”
Well, not for Mr. Cain, but at that moment he had several balls in the air that needed to be taken care of before he could leave for to the airport, but assuming the same flight time as a commercial airline, he estimated he wouldn’t need to go out for another six hours or so.
