Point of Contact

Jack and Paul complied as the security guard snapped on a pair of surgical gloves — computer keyboards were dirtier than toilet seats, collecting bacteria, fecal matter, and other unsanitary deposits. The first thing he did was to swab each device with a cotton trace detector.

“You’re checking for explosives?” Jack asked.

“Standard operating procedure,” Lian said.

The security guard tossed the swabs, then did a quick check of the applications folders on their laptops and phones. Seeing nothing obvious, he returned the items to them.

“Thank you.” The guard tossed his gloves in a garbage can and began inspecting their bags. He frowned when he rifled through Paul’s opened clamshell bag. His finger touched an object tucked beneath the material lining the fold, and with some effort, he finally managed to extricate a USB drive.

“Sir? Is this yours?”

Paul felt the floor fall out from under his feet. He swallowed hard. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

Jack saw Lian glowering at his partner. What was Paul trying to hide?

Paul shrugged. “It must have fallen down there. Sorry about that.”

The friendly security guard suddenly wasn’t as friendly. He took the drive and slipped it into the USB port on his computer.

Paul watched him tap a few keys, studying the contents intently.

Jack glanced at Paul. Shot him a look. Something you want to tell me?

Paul shrugged again and shook his head.

The guard’s computer beeped and he ejected the drive. “Nice photos, sir. Washington, D.C., isn’t it?”

“My last trip to the Smithsonian. I was wondering where that drive was. Thanks for finding it.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to keep the drive here. You can pick it up when you leave.”

Paul shrugged. “Okay, sure.”

Lian asked the guard a question in Mandarin. The guard shook his head as if to say “No problem.”

Lian pointed the way out. “All right, gentlemen. Please follow me.”

She led them toward the far end of the room, where there was yet another glass security wall, shut and secured by a card reader as well. They passed a steel emergency exit door leading to the stairwell, which was next to a large kitchen and dining area where someone was making coffee.

Lian showed them the rest of the floor beyond the security glass and pointed out the offices along both walls for the senior analysts following global markets and related research. Junior analysts sat at workstations on the floor.

At the far end of the room Jack saw another glass partition wall, but on the right side of the room leading up to it was a large glass-walled conference room. A dozen people were seated around a long table.

Lian motioned toward the door. “Gentlemen.”

When Jack and Paul entered, everyone else stood, all smiles. They were mostly in their thirties and forties, men and women, from East and South Asia, intense and earnest but friendly, like tech executives Jack had met all over the world.

Lian introduced them to several department heads and their assistants from around the company, including production, marketing, sales, and accounting. She further instructed her employees to answer any and all questions that the Hendley Associates auditors might have. “And they insist you call them by their Christian names, Jack and Paul.”

The brief meeting ended with more handshakes and smiles, and Lian led them to the next security door. She flashed her key card and they passed into the last section of the floor. Across the room along the far wall opposite the glass partition was Dr. Fairchild’s expansive office, spanning the entirety of the outer wall. On the left side of the inner wall were two offices — Yong’s and Lian’s. On the opposite wall were two more offices, both empty. Lian pointed at them. “Those are yours for the duration.”

Jack and Paul stepped over to one of them. They were spartan accommodations. Each office just had a desk and computer terminal with a landline phone, a small laser jet printer, and a single storage cabinet full of office supplies.

“Your laptops can’t be connected to the mainframe without the installation of proprietary software, so any work you need to do will have to be done on one of our terminals.”

“Can we download data from your system to our laptops so we can do work off-site?” Paul asked.

“No. For the purposes of the certification audit, our data remains on our hard drive. Of course, once our firms merge, Marin Aerospace will have complete and total access to all of our data, mainframe, and storage. Until then, the two of you are welcome to take notes on your machines or print hard copies of anything you need, but we can’t allow any kind of machine interface between your equipment and ours. That includes the use of any portable drives. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” Paul said.

He was screwed.

Lian checked her watch. “We just have time to visit the second and third floors before your assistant arrives, Mr. Brown. He’ll walk you through the accounting databases and software and be available to you for any further questions.”