Bad Good Bad: Special Edition

Book 1

Bad good bad

Chapter 1

Just picked up a car at the airport in Toronto.  They gave me a Camry this time, nice car, but I don’t enjoy driving anymore, especially in that kind of weather.  This will stop alternating between snow and rain once I head up north for sure, away from the lake effect.  December is here.

Big customer meeting, but I think I am ready.  Datacenter is too far out for a cab ride.  Whatever happened with that global warming thing...

What now?  Big accident on the highway, everybody stopped.  Shoot that big truck following me...

Chapter 2

Where am I?  What is this place?  Not a hotel room... Hospital bed.  There must be a button somewhere to turn on the light or get somebody’s attention. 

I see that you are awake, Mr Cole.  You have been lucky, we lost a few lives when that freighter slammed into your group of cars on the highway.  Black ice I guess.  Go easy on the light for now, it may give you a migraine.  You suffered a severe concussion.

I see a mini Christmas tree on the table beside the bed.  What day is it?  How long have I been here?

December 29.  You have been here a couple of weeks.  Your family got you transferred here, private clinic part of the Neocuris family, downtown Toronto.  Good  thing your employer has a great healthcare benefits plan, they cover all  the costs.  I am nurse Hanley, Jill, nightshift.  You probably want to call your family in the morning, we kept you in that artificial coma, you should fully recover, but we will monitor you over the next few months.

Kevin:  When can I expect to go home back in Montreal?

Jill:  Actually very soon, maybe in a couple of days.  See, they had to operate and remove some pressure in your brain.  They implanted a non-invasive monitoring chip to track your recovery inside your braincase.  You will be able to use your iPhone app to receive information from the chip and upload it to the secure patients vault over the internet.  We will need you to complete some forms here and authorize Neocuris to use this information, and you will be able to use the app to track your health metrics and be alerted if something is not right.

Kevin:  Wow!  Don’t think I’ve heard of those chips before.  Am I a bionic man or something like that now?

Jill:  Your family gave consent for you during your recovery, but we need your consent before you walk out if you still want to benefit from the vault.  The chip allowed us to have access to a very precise, real-time diagnostic so we could make the right decisions about your recovery program, at the right time.  Don’t worry, it is proven technology, we have been using the vault to track diabetes and epilepsy cases for a while.  Better diagnostics mean no overmedication and just-in-time remediation.  And full recovery for patients like you.  You family wanted to put all chances on your side.

Chapter 3

In the morning, after being awake for most of the night, I got out of bed with the nurses assistance, walked around the room a bit, then the hall.  They have a gym, top notch clinic, and they told me I could start some light exercise tomorrow if I feel okay.  We called home to talk to my wife Carolyn and the kids Sophie, Jonathan and Isabelle, holiday school break.  I could hear they were crying, but very happy to hear my voice.  I can’t wait to go back home and be with you.  Didn’t I leave just yesterday?

Slowly, I started to remember the last few months and weeks prior to the blackout.  I could not remember what I was doing in Toronto.  Apparently my family and some colleagues visited during my recovery, I can tell by looking at the cards by the window.  When I turned on my iPhone, there was a thousand plus emails, many of them good words from everybody judging by the titles alone, I could not hope to process all those emails and texts in a timely fashion, and anyway my concentration was slowly getting better but still I could not focus on complex tasks yet.  Looking at my calendar, I could see I had a customer meeting outside of Toronto that day, and a note for a rental car reservation, but I could not remember I was there.

After a few days, I was ready to go home, and my wife Carolyn flew to the island airport to meet me at the clinic and escort me back home.  For me, it did not feel like a 3-week separation, but clearly it did for my wife.  Anyway I started to appreciate that I was still alive, that I had a beautiful family and a beautiful wife, they all need me.  It felt like we met for our second or third rendez-vous as young lovers almost 20 years ago.  No word said about it, but we both knew exactly what the plan was whenever we would find ourselves alone together again.  Electricity like we have not felt between the 2 of us in many years.  Blame it on routine and busy professional and family agenda.  Getting so close to losing each other, and it started to filter in for me too, it’s a wake-up call, suddenly you see through all of it, what matters.  Why we live.

On the way out, the clinic’s secretary helped me install the application on my iPhone, after I had to sign all kinds of paperwork.  A secret code allowed me to unlock the app, a confirmation email allowed me to activate it, and a simplified visual dashboard with lights all green indicated that my vital signs and brainwaves were all clear for the flight home.  She explained to me that the dashboard would still work in flight, but the data collected during the flight would be uploaded to the Neocuris patients vault only once my iPhone would reconnect to the internet.  While in the taxi to the airport, I heard a sound from my iPhone, pulled it out of my pocket.  A little star like beetle logo was now on my screen, and a welcome message to Neocuris patients vault displayed in a pop-up box.  I clicked the OK button, then another pop-up informed me that the latest update had been successfully installed. Hey honey, I am patched.  Carolyn’s probably didn’t catch that geek joke, or she didn’t care about what it meant, but I think she was just happy to welcome me back in her life.

I tried to use my credit card to pay the taxi driver who dropped us off at the airport.  I realized that I had no clue what my PIN was.  I was looking at the 3-digit security code at the back, but no that’s not it.  I entered that PIN like a robot 1000 times before, muscle memory.  But now it’s gone.  The cab driver jumped on the opportunity to ask for cash, but I tried to punch my PIN once, twice, then I took a deep breath, concentrated harder, it came back to me, the third attempt was a success.

Before we boarded at the airport, waiting in the lounge, we could just not leave each other.  Carolyn had so much to say about how she and the kids missed me, how everybody was very worried about me, but how grateful they were to the clinic’s doctors and nurses, how they took good care of me and reassured them once my recovery program was advanced enough.

What happened when I was out?  While Carolyn quickly went to the lady’s room, almost running so she would be back with me in no time, I quickly glanced at the TV screen up a post in the lounge.  Some newsreel channel was on, I could read some of the latest news.  Sydney Australia firework for the New Year, the Opera, Bondi beach swimmers, and other recycled news on this January 3.  The text news kept defiling at the bottom.  Big bank got compromised, big data breach, 25 000 credits cards had to be suspended.  Good thing that is not about my bank.  Well, another scare that my company is going to flash in PowerPoint in front of customers to convince them to buy the next killer app that will close that gap left in between last year 2 killer security apps they just bought from the competition.  Moving target.

The flight was smooth, despite some small bumps on the way up.  Carolyn showed me pictures of the kids next to the Christmas tree at home, each holding a piece of paper side by side with the words ‘Merry Christmas daddy, come home soon’.  We are lucky to have such good kids, still good in their teenage years.  No troublemaker like daddy was at their age.

The taxi stopped in front of our house, which is just outside of the main city, close to the airport so I can beat traffic when I need to fly.  I tried to use my credit card again, but the transaction was refused.  I finally had to settle with cash this time, Carolyn’s card was also not working.  And nevermind trying to remember the PIN on my corporate card, I never user it.  I looked at my iPhone, I saw a missed call with a 1-888 number and I assumed the bank tried to call me and suspended my card for some reason, probably a false positive again, but anyway I had other priorities right now vs calling the bank and drilling down over the phone with the bank clerk about why they think my card got compromised this time. 

I know those flowcharts they use to justify themselves, and the behavior pattern software that they use to spot suspicious transactions and block cards.  The last time I tripped the software by using the card to book 2 back to back hotels in Italy for the family vacation, and within five minutes the bank called.  No, that was me, not the bad guys.

...

They are in their teenage years, but tonight they are my babies again.  Hugs and kisses, the smiles on their faces.  Carolyn looking at the picture perfect family reunion with a big smile on her face.  Special night, they all get to stay up a little later, ordered some pizza and pasta exceptionally and I am sharing a few glasses of wine with Carolyn.  I am light headed very fast, I guess I have been away from drinking wine for several weeks now, switched to some other cocktail.  I Pick up the iPhone, I click the beetle, the dashboard is almost green everywhere but a little warning informs me that I should not attempt driving at this time, and that I should probably put the cork back on the bottle now.  Not that I feel the urge to get behind the wheel again anyway in winter...

The kids are barely in bed.  Carolyn grabs my arm and drags me to the master bedroom, almost effortlessly since I am pushing as much as she is pulling.  I had not felt that electricity in years.  We both crawl out of our clothes in the most inefficient way, helping each other, breaking a couple of buttons and clips in the process.  Her skin is perfect, she’s my angel again.  I can feel her so passionate, we feed on each other’s urge.  Then several minutes into it, I hear a voice.  I turn around and check the door, expecting one of the kids in the frame, but no, the door is clean shut.  I ask Carolyn if she heard anything, but she does not look like she registered anything.  Normally that would be her asking ‘What was that?’  Not this time.  She just grabs my head and turns it so our eyes are locked again.  I kiss her, then her shoulders, and blame the concussion for this false alarm, I forget quickly about it.

In the morning, I get up first and start to make coffee in the kitchen.  It is 6:30 am and Carolyn soon follows me, as to make sure I am not leaving the house again anytime soon.  We make eye contact, a moment frozen in time with a smile, happiness spilling on the floor.  I am wondering for how long she will be my angel again.

I am grinding more coffee beans for Carolyn’s expresso.  I hear a voice again.  This time, very clear, from across the room.  I hear ‘Portland’.  So I turn around and ask Carolyn what’s up with Portland.  Her smile fades and she looks at me puzzled.  Clearly, she has no clue why I am asking this question.  Maybe a side effect of the medication that will wear out soon.  Nothing honey, sorry, I am still a bit confused I guess.

Why Portland?  My mind is running.  Yes, I have been there once or twice to meet customers.  I remember a very good restaurant downtown that has better tapas than Barcelona.  The grilled octopus, perfect!  I remember that many women over there did not dress up like the women in Montreal.  Cotton sport shirt and pants, come on!  I appreciate women who dress well, don’t put on too much make-up though.  I am very faithful to Carolyn.  I am not what some call a flirt let’s just say.  I am not able to lie to myself about my feelings.  But why Portland?

Finally I and Carolyn are finding ourselves in different rooms for almost the first time in some 15 hours.  I sit at my home office desk, I need to call the bank to sort things out.  I spot another missed call on my iPhone and a vmail on the home phone from the bank.  This time it looks like the clerk over the phone has real evidence.  2 transactions in the same hour, one in New York, one in Portland Oregon, while I was either at the airport or during my flight.  As far as I can gather, the 2 transactions where for airfare, but the clerk is reluctant to provide details despite my surgical technical interview.  Maybe he does not know all the details, or he does not have the technical background.

Portland, again.  Now I have a weird feeling inside.  What’s going on?  Maybe I am just confused, side effects from heavy medication or induced coma.  Give it a few days, things will go back to normal, right?  Then I call my manager at work, and a few coworker friends, I feel like I am ready to resume work, but they all insist that I wait until mid-January, not before that.  They all seem to be excited to hear my voice again.  I look through the frame, I see the kids walking by one by one and glancing at me with a big smile on their face.  Yeah, let’s plan on some fun stuff together before they go back to school.  As soon as FedEx shows up at the door with our new credit cards, overnight shipping, out the door we should go for something simple, cheesy family fun.

The next day, with the cards in our hands before noon, Carolyn drives the party to Mount Royal on this beautiful January day.  We just spend some time walking, taking in the fresh air.  Snowball fight!  Then we head over to a nice Portuguese restaurant and everyone gets to order whatever small plates they feel like testing.  We all share family style.  I and Carolyn each have one glass of wine.  Then we head back home.  Carolyn and I can’t get enough of each other again as soon as the kids turn the corner.

...

Morning again, but now that the kids are going back to school, the routine is picking up again. Lunchboxes for those who don’t want what’s on the menu today at the cafeteria.  But still that smile on everybody’s face, and the sparkles in the eyes of Carolyn I find whenever I spy on her.  God, she’s beautiful!  Carolyn takes a look at her iPhone and she realizes that she has a potential customer now that filled the form on her new home design web site to be contacted.  She is excited, and can barely wait for 9 am to call her potential first customer.

Carolyn tries to call her customer, she gets the vmail.  The kids are gone to the bus stop now.  I am just looking at Carolyn and I am thinking how lucky I am to be here, with her, and our family.  The doorbell rings.  Who’s this?  One of the kids forgot the lunchbox again, and will miss the bus?  I unlock and open the door.  A brunette that looks only a few years older than my older girl is standing on the porch, silent, looking me straight into the eyes, then scanning me up and down.  She sports a leather jacket that is unzipped despite the cold air outside, a pair of jeans, and a black NIN shirt with the second N flipped backwards, which I recognize as the Nine Inch Nails logo, white on black.  Kids still listen to that?  What is it? I ask the stranger.  She is just silent, staring.

Now Carolyn is joining me in the door frame.  I try to shut the door, but she throws a foot forward to stop that from happening.  Some sporty performance shoe.  Here comes one word from her mouth, ‘Portland’.  I am trying to process the scene, I turn around and look at Carolyn.  I am asking myself about what kind of world I woke up into from coma.  Honeymoon #2 = 48 hours + change.  Not the angel’s look anymore on her face. 

Carolyn:  Something you want to tell me? 

She is boiling inside.

Yes I have been in Portland at least once.  That was last year.  And no I do not register this stranger who is now trying to push the door wide open with her booth and both arms.  Now the phone rings?  We all freeze in that scene for the moment.  Carolyn’s potential first customer trying to return the call?  It doesn’t matter anymore at this very moment to Carolyn.  Carolyn does not even turn around.  5 rings, the answering machine picks up.  After listening to my own voice, recorded greeting, now the beep, we all 3 hear the caller happily going Hi, I am Tom calling you from New York.  This is the headhunter call of the year, the call YOU cannot just delete.  I have a great career opportunity for you, the kind that happens once in a lifetime.  Call me back as soon as you get this, night or day, 917-...  The girl in the door jumps in and says No, we need you on OUR team.  We need to talk.  Let me in.  Please.

Well, I have nothing to lose right now, glancing back quickly at Carolyn who is fuming, and I want to get to the bottom of this as much as Carolyn is about ready to punch me in the face.  I let the girl in.  She throws her leather jacket on the couch on the way to the kitchen.  We follow her there, where I move back one of the 3 high seats around the isle to sit down and make sense of this drama.  They refuse to sit.  I get up again.  Carolyn looks at her now, at least I don’t feel her laser eyes burning MY face anymore for a break.  He’s my man.  You stay away from him, you...  The stranger stops the train of insults by cutting her off in flight.  I’m Kim.  Hi Carolyn.  Great sex last night by the way guys.  Gee, thanks for that I guess.  She has a forced air of disdain on her face now, looking at Carolyn, but slightly sideways.

Now anger and jealousy turn into stupor on Carolyn’s face.  Carolyn, welcome to my club.  Kim, I guess thank you for throwing a hand grenade at my house this morning.

Kim:  Kevin, delete this voice mail.  We need you on OUR team.  The hell with Tom! 

She knows our names, our sex.  What else she knows about us?  She turns to the side, she lifts a bundle of hair above her left ear, I see a 2 cm red line parked in a square of shaved skin, under the regrown and shorter patch of hair.  I immediately reach to my own patch of shaved skin almost instinctivelly, I have to lift a smaller bundle of hair, while Carolyn looks alternatively at me and Kim, her mouth open, with a puzzled look nearing fear.

Silence in the Cole’s kitchen for a good 5 minutes, while everybody including Kim is trying to process the situation, and figure out what’s next. 

Kim breaks the silence:  Ethical Hacker.  Got recruited by Tom and Eric out of the university.  They said they had this great opportunity for me, to help a fast growing public healthcare global company to increase the security around their patients vault.  Top Secret, of course, because if the bad guys are looking over our shoulders, they could exploit those gaps before the customer can plug them.  Good money.  Better money if I wanted to go the extra mile.  She is pointing to the left side of her head again.

She pauses.  She turns around, and for the first time since I slided the door open, I she a different face on Kim.  Not the determined, I’m about to make a kill look anymore.  Vulnerability.  Fear.  Confusion.  But quickly she locks back in and recomposes. 

Kim:  The extra mile.  The beetle chip.  The update that adds some features...  But now she is losing it again, she needs to pause, recompose, she takes a deep breath.

We believe Neocuris is compromised.  We suspect Tom’s new team.  Maybe he flipped.  Eric says we cannot tell Neocuris yet because they would shut us down, our team too.  We would all go to jail, and we would not be able to stop Tom or whoever is behind the attack, or prove that we have nothing to do with it.  We still have a shot at this, but time is running out.  Both teams were just waiting for you to become active, not too many patients with your security credentials in the vault yet.

Kevin:  Become active, do you mean when I activated the app?

Kim:  "Exactly.  I got the chip implanted in a clinic, I had to make up a story around some epilepsy crisis in a local hospital, to get the script and then go to a Neocuris clinic to get the chip.  Eric took care of the money part.  My role was going to be the honeypot