Jacki Comes Through
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Jack Be Quick Ch. 04 free porn video
If you haven’t read the earlier chapters you really ought to go back and read them now. Otherwise you’ll feel like the only guy in the conference room who doesn’t know what the meeting’s about.
In case you missed my earlier warnings, there isn’t any explicit sex in this story.
Hans
*****
NO GOOD DEED SHOULD GO UNPUNISHED
In the wake of the great entry and exit overhaul, morale seemed to pick up a notch. The place looked a lot more professional, less half-assed and temporary. It was like moving into a real house after having camped out in the backyard. The neat, finished appearance said that somebody cared about us, that we mattered, and what we were doing was really important. But just as we were feeling so good about our project, we experienced a catastrophe that cast a pall over the whole lab, and the abrupt change from glee to gloom almost crippled us.
We lost our leader.
George had been the lab supervisor from day one, and was simply the perfect man to get the geeks and nerds herded together and keep them marching in the same direction. He was patient and consistent, and he had earned a unique position in our minds, not quite as our father, but more like everybody’s supporter and protector.
A brief memo was distributed to all of us, saying that he had died in an automobile accident. We later learned that a Dodge sedan had lost control and collided with George’s Chevy, which then went off the road and hit a tree. The Dodge had been stolen. After the accident it was abandoned and its driver was never found.
The confusion and pain that George’s loss caused in our project was intensified by the way we were working. Our system was ultimately to be adaptable to a wide variety of users, including federal government agencies, banks, insurance companies, local governments, virtually any place that terrorists might want to infiltrate and disrupt. The whole system consisted of building blocks that we called modules. To equip a given user, we would take the core modules and adapt them to the user’s needs, first by picking and choosing from dozens of accessory modules and attaching them to the core, and then making user-specific modifications to special skeleton modules that were mostly input and output functions. When George’s accident happened, we were working long hours to get three of the core modules ready to demonstrate to our advisory committee. But on hearing the news, our productivity came crashing down to the ground.
Our team resembled a bunch of private subcontractors. Everybody began with the specification for a piece of module and supplemented that with his own notes, which usually were so sketchy that they’d be meaningless to anybody else. Then they headed off into the wild blue yonder, writing code while carrying some of the key information in their heads and nowhere else. If that sounds like a haphazard way to work, you’re missing two key points. Truly creative people work in flashes of inspiration, building a structure of logical transactions that don’t mean much until they are all linked together at the end. And to make it more confusing, every one of these near geniuses marched to the beat of his own drummer, had since early childhood, and had a unique way of organizing his creative work that was incompatible with regimentation.
For a day, not much got accomplished. I talked with a lot of my friends, and they all complained of feeling tired, not being able to solve simple problems quickly, making mistakes and having to go back and do large amounts of code over again, and not being able to remember where they had parked important variables. Things began to pick up on the day after that, but nothing like the blinding pace we’d all been working at before the accident.
Glenn Carlson came and used George’s office to interview several of our key people, and I was the last one he talked with. As I walked into the office, he gestured to a chair and sat for a minute with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Then he sat up straight and faced me, looking grim. ‘Jack, you knew George as well as anybody here. He talked about you so often, and he told me that you’re the youngest man on the team but the one he depended on the most. So I need your inputs. How do we get back on track? How can we get over this awful loss?’
How do you answer a question like that? How do you tell the Captain of the Titanic that he doesn’t have enough lifeboats? I took a deep breath. ‘Dr. Carlson, this project will live or die on the quantity and quality of work the programmers do, and their productivity depends mostly on how they feel about the project and about themselves. So I’d like you to try to see this from where we all sit. I’m young, but in a lot of ways I feel more mature than most of the people here. We were all hired because of our ability to create, and that’s what we do, starting with nothing and then piling one brick on another, with no regard for the rest of the world. Growing up, we depended on our mothers and fathers and siblings to handle the rest of the world for us, and when we came here we saw George as a surrogate for them. He was older and wiser and he’d let us come in here, close the door to shut the world out, and do what we do best, what we love to do. With George to watch over us and protect us we could work miracles, and the working environment he created and maintained was exactly what it took to make us happy to work here.
‘Now we need a new George. Not a professional manager, full of business school vocabulary and pie charts and clever stunts to manipulate us. But not exactly a nerd, focusing on the flyspecks. And he can’t try to micromanage us. That would spell the end of any useful output. We need somebody who can see the big picture without losing sight of the details. He needs to respect the nerds and geeks, to encourage and guide them without stifling their creativity. He needs to give us direction, the way a father does for his family, and then let us take the job in our teeth and run with it. And he needs to understand and appreciate and protect his flock of brilliant children, the way a mother does. I haven’t any idea where you can find somebody like that. But until you do, I’m afraid that very little of value will be produced. And unless you do, I’m afraid that you’re going to lose a lot of your best workers, and possibly your whole program.
Glenn looked astonished, as if I’d just slapped him in the face. He said nothing, and I felt as if I’d dumped this all in his lap too abruptly. ‘Look, Dr. Carlson, I didn’t mean to shock you. I’m sorry if I hit you too hard with this. I never meant to . . .’
‘No! No! Jack, you just told me exactly what I came here to find out. You’ve shown me what I need if I’m to find my way out of this problem. All the people I’ve talked with so far have told me exactly nothing. They’re very sorry to lose George. Holy Mother of God, I didn’t need to come here to find that out. I’m sorrier to lose him than anybody! But you’ve just made sense out of what it takes to run this lab, and why George was so good at it. You’ve given this problem some definition, added new dimensions. What you’ve said doesn’t make my problem seem easy, but you’ve given me a yardstick to measure possible solutions against. This is the first light I’ve seen at the end of this tunnel! I could hug you.’
I didn’t know what to say or do, so I sat still and kept my mouth shut. Glenn stood up so I figured maybe the interview was over, and I stood up too. ‘I’ve been in here long enough,’ he said as he flexed his arms and legs. ‘It’s about lunchtime. Let’s go find a quiet place to grab a bite. Any suggestions?’
‘How about the Green Goose? It looks terrible but the food’s good, and I’m pretty sure that the FBI has it swept clear of bugs.’
‘Green Goose it is!’ He led the way out of the lab to where he had a parking space with his name on it. When we got to the Green Goose I was chuckling as I got out and closed the passenger door. Glen
n asked me what was so funny, and I replied that this was probably the first Lexus ever to be parked in their lot.
The proprietor called out to me from the kitchen. ‘Hey there, Jack. Jerry coming?’
‘Not that I know of. Got a minute?’
‘Sure.’ He came out, wiping his hands on his apron.
‘Roger, I’d like you to meet Dr. Glenn Carlson. He’s a very big man at MIT, and he’s been a tremendous help to me ever since I got here.’
They exchanged a few words and I led the way to the back table where I usually met with Jerry. Roger followed us to the table. ‘Special today is pastrami on rye, with Swiss cheese and spicy mustard, cole slaw on the side. Interested?’
‘Sounds great to me,’ said Glenn.
‘Same here,’ I said. ‘Got any fresh coffee?’
‘Just dripping down right now.’
‘Make that two.’ said Glenn.
Our table sat at a 45 degree angle to the front of the building, and Glenn was facing toward the door, while across from him, I had my back toward it. I heard the door open, but was surprised to hear Jerry’s voice call out, ‘Hey, Glenn. I was planning to call you this afternoon.’
‘Hi, Jerry. C’mon back. We’ve got room for one more.’
Jerry shook Glenn’s hand. ‘Awful about George. Must leave you in a huge hole. He was a great guy.’ Then as he turned to pull out a chair, he saw me for the first time. ‘Hi Jack. Oh wait, you guys must be having a big discussion. I’d better not interrupt you.’
Glenn shook his head. ‘Jerry, I hardly know what I’m doing. Right now, I’m just having lunch with a young man who’s trying to keep me from taking a bad problem and making it worse. Please sit down and join us. Sadness is easier when you can share it with friends.’
Jerry pulled out a chair and yelled to Roger, ‘Special for me, please, Rog.’
Jerry said to me, ‘This is the first time I’ve ever been able to have lunch with Glenn. Showing up at his office or one of the better restaurants together wouldn’t be good for his reputation or for my cover, either.’
‘I figured you two knew each other well, but I wasn’t sure whether Dr. Carlson was supposed to know that you and I are friends,’ I explained. ‘That’s why I didn’t turn around when you walked in.’
‘Oh, we know each other, all right. This project is sponsored by one of those federal offices that aren’t supposed to exist, so the bureau was tapped to monitor it. But our project office has delegated its security coverage back to the bureau, so I just about wind up answering my own mail. The real way that things get done is like this, friends talking to friends. Friendship trumps org charts any day. Just like Utica.’
I smiled but kept quiet about the incident that officially didn’t happen.
‘Look,’ Jerry said, ‘there’s something that’s going to come out sooner or later but it’s best if you hear it from me. George’s accident wasn’t an accident. There, you know that now but I never said it, all right?’
Glenn looked shocked. ‘Do you know any more?’
‘No. I suppose something will crop up. I hope so, because the only way we can make any progress is if some fresh information comes to light. We’ve wrung all the meaning we can get from the evidence at hand, and it’s nothing. Could have been my grandmother. You know how some of these knowitalls like to say there’s no such thing as a perfect crime? Well this one looks as perfect as you can get. No witnesses, no prints, no DNA, no clothing left behind, no clear footprints, no carpet fibers, not a thing.’
‘Then how do you know it wasn’t accidental?’ I asked.
‘The way it was done, more than anything else. It was done professionally, all the earmarks they teach us to watch out for at the academy. The missing driver didn’t get hurt, for another. The fact that the Dodge was wiped down, not a single print anywhere. The location, running into the only big tree near the road for five miles or more in either direction. The fact that George was applying full power to try to force the Dodge back, but he couldn’t make it veer off to the left at all. The state police don’t know where else to look, and neither do I.’
‘You probably know what I’d do,’ I mumbled, almost without thinking.
‘What?’ asked Jerry and Glenn in unison.
‘Get Red out here. If it was done with a car, he’s the guy I’d ask.’
‘It’s not that simple. Good idea, but not that simple. Red is retained by the FBI office in your home town. If I want that sort of expertise I have to call in the guy who’s retained here, and while he’s good, he’s young and he’s never been through a murder investigation.’
‘That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard,’ I spat out. I was mad. Furious. I pulled out my phone and called Trudy. ‘Trudy, very important. Drop everything important! Call your Uncle Red and ask him to call me immediately. Please.’ ‘Great. Thanks, Babe.’
‘Trudy’s Uncle?’ asked Jerry. ‘Where’d that come from? I checked her background myself.’
‘Long story,’ I answered. I sat there, smoke probably coming out my ears but trying to get control of myself, when my phone rang. ‘Red, I need a favor. A big one. We’ve lost a key man in a fatal incident involving two cars and a tree. Everybody’s wringing their hands but nobody can get a handle on it. Can you come here and give your professional opinion?’ ‘Yeah, bring everything you need. Don’t assume that anybody here has a thing.’ ‘Well, it gets complicated because we’re out of your area, but if you can provide any useful information I’m sure we can work that out. For right now put down that your official contact is Gregory Bates.’ ‘Okay. Call me when you get over the state line into Massachusetts.
I put the phone away and looked at Jerry. ‘There, I did that. If the bureau doesn’t like it, send me to Leavenworth. But we need to know who killed George, and I’m in no mood for stupid excuses. I’ll probably apologize to you for being rude, maybe tomorrow. Right now I don’t feel like it. This crime may seem inscrutable, but the big picture is very simple. One, they tried to get me. Two, they got George. Three, the next victim will be one of the three of us at this table. I may be just a dumb kid who doesn’t understand how the government works, but I’m not dumb enough to sit still with a target on my back, waiting for my number to be called.’
* * * * * * * * * *
As Glenn parked his Lexus back at MIT, I told him, ‘I’m sorry if I embarrassed you by my outburst. I can’t do any more talking today. Tomorrow morning, that’s different, but for now I’m going home. I’ll try to rest and clear my head tonight so I can be more help to you tomorrow.’ He understood, and we parted in the parking lot.
Trudy had an early day, and would probably go to the library for a few hours. I called and told her I was headed home. She knew something was up, so she grabbed up her books and came home to be with me.
‘Honey, why don’t you sit down and stretch your legs out and tell me all about it from the beginning. All I know is that George is dead. Take it from there and fill me in.’
‘Okay. Here are the pieces that I know about. George was killed in a car crash. He was driving on a divided highway, two lanes in each direction. Another car came up to pass him, and seemed to lose control as it got alongside. It veered to the right, forcing George’s car off the road and smack into a big tree. George was killed instantly. The other car went a little way beyond George’s, and came to rest in a grassy patch alongside the highway. The driver of that car abandoned it there and left the scene, and nobody knows who he or she was.
‘The car that forced George off the road was stolen. There are no fingerprints on it that anybody can find. The driver didn’t leave anything behind. The FBI thinks this was a murder, not an accident. The investigation goes on, but it’s just wheel spinning for now. They’re trying to find somebody who knows something, but if they exist, they’re not saying anything.
‘I got pissed and asked
Red to come here and help investigate the cars. He’ll be here tomorrow some time. I don’t know whether he can come up with anything, but I do know that if nobody tries, nothing will happen. It’s like those TV commercials for the lottery, ‘You can’t win if you don’t play.’
‘Meanwhile Glenn Carlson is trying to figure out what to do to resurrect our project. We talked, and I told him what kind of a new supervisor he’s got to find for us. So now he’s got to find somebody, and I hope he does it soon because all our people are falling apart.
‘Oh, one other thing. The FBI is mad at me because I asked Red to come here and help. This is a different district or region or whatever and they’re supposed to use the experts they have here. I guess I made some sort of a mess for the bureau that will have to be straightened out in the near future. I was so disgusted with the way they were accepting the idea that they couldn’t do a thing, that I yelled at Jerry. I’m sure that I’ll get kicked off the Gregory Bates team, but I doubt that I’ll be fired from the lab. If I’m fired from Bates, you probably will be too. That’ll reduce our income by three grand a month. Back to hot dogs, I guess. But I like hot dogs.
‘The tradeoff was get Red here and maybe find out something to catch a murderer, while giving up a nice paycheck, versus sitting on my hands waiting for the next murder to happen, with the understanding that it could be mine and maybe even yours.
‘So there you have it. The lab is in a mess, there’s a murderer running around loose, Glenn Carlson has a personnel problem on his hands, Red is coming to help but may not find any clues, and the FBI is mad at me. Aside from that, everything is peachy.’
Trudy turned and gave me a kiss. ‘Go stretch out on the bed. I’ll get out of my school clothes and join you.’ All was quiet for a minute, and then Trudy said from the bathroom, ‘I’d love to have been a fly on the wall to see you when you blew up at Jerry. I bet that took him by surprise.’
‘Yeah, I guess so. He wanted to say, ‘You can’t do that,’ about calling Red, but I’d already done it. Oh, this bed feels great. Just what I . . .’ Long pause, as some wheels started to turn in my head. ‘Hey Tru! Quick! Call Red. Right now!’
She came out of the bathroom in her panties and bra, trailing a sweatsuit behind her. She grabbed her phone and made the call, then turned to look at me, but I was already on my phone, making another call.
I heard her say, ‘Uncle Red? Whatever you’re doing, can you stop for a minute and talk with Jack? Hold on.’
I wound up with two phones, one in each hand. Into Trudy’s I said, ‘Red, have you left yet?’ ‘When will you be ready to hit the road?’ ‘Go ahead and get ready, but call me before you start out. I hope to have a passenger for you to bring along. Got room for him?’ ‘Okay. I’ll expect a call from you in half an hour. Thanks.’
By then the other phone was making noises. ‘Hello, Jim? We’ve got a situation here that I can’t talk about on the phone. Can you pack some clothes in a bag and be ready to be picked up in forty minutes?’ ‘Yeah, tell them that you’ve been called out of town because of a death in the family, which is pretty much true. I can have you picked up by a friend who’s coming here to help me out. He’ll call you in thirty minutes or so and you can tell him where to meet you. His name’s Red. You’ll like him. Incidentally, better not tell anybody where you’re going. Could be dangerous.’
Then I hung up and made one more call. ‘Dr. Carlson? Jack here.’ ‘As soon as I cooled down I knew one person who’s made to order to replace George. Name’s Jim Mangrum. He’ll be here tomorrow morning so you can talk with him. Please keep the job open till then.’ ‘Okay, see you tomorrow.’
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Red called in the morning to say he’d just crossed into Massachusetts. Three hours later he and I were meeting with Jerry, while Jim was in conference with Glenn. Red went off with Jerry to visit the crash site and then inspect the two cars, and I went to the lab.
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