Coding Isis (37 page)

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Authors: David Roys

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BOOK: Coding Isis
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Salter wasn’t sure. He knew he couldn’t call Ben a friend, he hardly knew him after all, but he pitied him. He seemed like a good guy, hard-working like a bloodhound sniffing after clues.

‘He was a friend,’ he said. ‘At least I hoped he would be.’

FIFTY-FOUR
 

Chris walked into Frank Myers’s office and was greeted like the prodigal son. It had been over a month since Chris was last in this office, and nothing had changed, except Frank had a contagious smile that didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. 

‘I’m pleased you came to your senses,’ Frank said. ‘I knew you would. I haven’t even advertised your position yet. The students have missed you.’

Chris settled in to the leather chair and smiled. It did feel good to be back.

‘I’ll need a bit of time to get things sorted, I haven’t thought about lectures for quite some time.’

‘Don’t worry about it Chris, take your time. Jesus, it’s good to see you again. So tell me, what happened in the private sector, what made you change your mind?’

‘I don’t know, I guess it just wasn’t for me. I’m looking to settle down some, spend more time with Michelle and less time glued to a computer screen. I won’t be taking on any more research contracts, but I came to an agreement with my previous sponsor and they’ve agreed we can keep the equipment. I think the students are going to enjoy playing with that kit. Who knows we may even get my headsets working, possibly find a buyer?’

Chris was pleased to find his own office was still tidy. He was determined to keep it like this. He switched on his computer and checked his email, then decided he would delete the lot and start responding to messages from now on. A fresh start.

He pulled out his folder with his notes and lecture plans, trying to remember where he was up to with his various groups. He’d arranged for each of his students to come and see him throughout the day so he could get a good understanding where each of them were with their projects and how they were getting on in general. There was a knock at the door and he figured this for his first appointment.

The man who entered was in his late forties, maybe early fifties. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and dark blue tie.

‘I know I’ve been away for a while,’ said Chris, ‘but I’m pretty sure you’re not one of my students.’

The man walked over to Chris and held out a business card, which Chris took and read: Special Agent Eric Salter, FBI.

‘I believe we have a mutual friend,’ said Salter. ‘I tracked you down from the hospital, you went to see Detective Naylor.’

‘How’s he doing?’

‘Not good I’m afraid, but he’s a fighter, and I’m sure he’s going to pull through.’

‘So what can I do for you Mr. Salter?’

‘Word on the street is that you know a thing or two about computers. Is that right?’

‘I’ve never been one to argue with the word on the street.’

‘How much do you know about terrorism Chris?’

‘More than you would expect,’ said Chris. This received a strange look from Salter. It was not the answer he was expecting but he continued with his speech.

‘The days of terrorists planting bombs on buses and shooting up shopping malls is fading fast, Chris. The new battleground for the terrorists won’t be in our cities, but instead will be in our infrastructure. We are entering a new era of cyber-terrorism, where politically motivated hackers rip our government systems apart and collapse our economy.’

‘I’m not sure we need terrorists to do that.’

‘The threat is very real Chris. I’ll be honest with you, I’m looking for recruits to help in our war on cyber-terrorism. I’m offering you a job Chris.’

‘I have a job already.’

‘Can you at least think about it?’

‘I don’t need to think about it. I’ve had enough of protecting our citizens against the evils of terrorism, it’s time for me to have a break. You need to pick on some other guy. I’m not interested.’

Agent Salter seemed disappointed. ‘You have my card,’ he said, ‘if you change your mind.’

Chris waited for Salter to leave the room and then dropped the card in the trash can. He’d had enough of saving his country to last a lifetime.

Chris met with his students, one at a time and it took him most of the day. It was good to find out how they were getting on, but most of them just wanted to know why he hadn’t made a killing in the private sector.
If only they knew
, he thought to himself when he heard them use that phrase. He decided that he would lecture the kids on the importance of getting it right first time when programming. After all, you never knew when you wouldn’t have sufficient time to test your work.

Chris left University early and drove back to be with Michelle. He was amazed at how he hadn’t been tempted to stay late and start to hack some code. He had missed it in a way, but he wanted to make up for lost time. When Chris opened the door, Michelle came bounding up to him and leapt up, throwing her arms and legs around him.

‘Wow, I thought you’d be pleased to see me, but I wasn’t expecting this.’

Michelle kissed him passionately and Chris dropped his briefcase on the hall floor and carried her up to the bedroom. He lowered her on to the bed and let himself down on top of her. Her legs were still wrapped around his waist.

‘I’ve got something to show you,’ said Michelle. ‘Come with me.’

She let go of Chris and squirmed out from under him, then made her way to the ensuite. She turned to Chris, her wild and impish grin made her seem excited and childish, in a nice way.

‘Come on,’ she said.

Chris got up from the bed and followed her through into the bathroom. Michelle pointed to the sink. There was something by the tap, it looked a little like a thermometer.

‘What?’

‘It’s positive.’

‘What is?’

Michelle kissed him again. ‘Considering you’re such a smart guy, you really can be pretty dumb sometimes. I hope our baby gets its common sense from me.’

‘Our baby?’

‘I’m pregnant.’

Now it was Chris’s turn to beam. He grabbed Michelle and hugged her, then kissed her.

‘Damn,’ he said, ‘just when I thought my life was getting easier.’

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

David Roys was born in Scunthorpe, England in 1970. He now lives in Christchurch, New Zealand with his wife and two beautiful daughters.

Coding Isis was written in Christchurch between 2009 and 2011 when there were over 9,000 earthquakes, the largest of which was a magnitude 7.1. David really hopes that 7.1 will remain the largest earthquake he has ever experienced.

After gaining an honors degree in computing science, David has worked in a variety of programming and IT consulting jobs. In 2009 he co-authored a book on implementing financial systems which helped him to discover his love of writing.

http://Facebook.com/DavidRoysAuthor

 

 

 

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