by Karl, Victor
Ms. Brown continued by saying, “I understand that you have engaged realty firm on Long Beach Island to manage your home in Loveladies. I have heard good things about them and if you ever want to sell that lovely property please consider listing with us.” Thanks Lucy, I sure will consider you if it comes to that, but I love that property going back to when I was just a little kid and cannot ever see getting rid of it. Shaking her hand I thanked he again, and walked back to the front of the house and climbed up into the Ram pickup, which I had decided to keep.
I drove over to Taylor’s home pulled into his long winding driveway which brought me to a beautiful three story Georgian style home with immense field stone chimneys and a beautiful porch. Taylor was outside waiting for me, and directed me to park my truck alongside the garage. My parents said you could park it there as long as you need. Getting out of the truck, I grabbed my bag, and said, “Appreciate you driving me to the airport.” I followed Taylor over to the third bay door of the garage where his beamer stood. I threw my bag in the open trunk and got into the passenger seat of Taylor’s rocket. One thing about Taylor, he defined the term ‘need for speed’ and driving with him was always an adventure. I could never figure out why he never got any speeding tickets since he always seemed to be doing 20-25 miles over the speed limit on the highways. Even though my stomach ended up in my throat when driving with him more often than I want to admit saying it, he was a gifted driver with spectacular reflexes.
I caught my flight to Hartsfield airport with no problem. Sitting in coach for the 2-hour flight, I focused on school. Having missed a week should not hurt me all that much, however I was working on a team project that would be the main portion of my final grade for my Computer Forensics Handling class and I would have to kiss ass on my team mates and work twice as hard over the final of weeks of school. My team mates where all great and we texted back and forth over the last week and I so appreciated their support. If I avoided a meltdown, I will be graduating from Georgia Tech in late May after completing a 5-year Master’s program in Computer Science and Cyber Security with close to a 4.0 grade point average.
Just a month ago, I had expected to share this achievement with my grandparents however, it now looks like I will just have to pat myself on my own back. Receiving four legitimate job offers before even graduating was a real ego boost and prior to the events of last week, I focused on a mid-Atlantic based cyber security firm specializing in forensic investigations for both the commercial and government sector. With the change in my personal situation, I was thinking about a job with more change involved. This led me down the path of a San Diego based startup firm that is specializing in helping commercial companies’ combat industrial espionage as well as government-sponsored actors. I pondered this as the plane was taxiing to the gate and became more determined that this would be the best decision before unbuckling my seat.
Chapter 5: Two Years Later
Life could be pretty good at times, I thought to myself, as I raced my black 2012 Chevrolet Camaro down to the Coronado Naval base cruising over the bay on Route 75 on a stunning Saturday morning. I was thinking quite a bit about my good friend Bill. Bill was now the closest person to family for me since the tragic death of my grandparents two years prior. After graduation, I came out west to San Diego and started working for Clavis Aurea Incorporated. One reason the company caught my eye was the meaning of the company’s name, which in Latin translates to something like ‘discover hidden meaning.’ This was a creative name for a computer forensic company that deals with others using ingenious methods to circumvent computer controls, plant system back doors and Trojans and then try to obfuscate their existence. Bill stayed with me for 2-weeks before going aboard the Darkhorse, an undersea recovery vessel. We were sober for about 10 minutes of that time together since I took off a good chunk of my vacation time to carouse with him. We closed a bar a night and had a steady stream of lady visitors back to my loft. It was a great time, which I sorely needed, and I was able to catch up on what our friends had been doing over the last 2 years. Bill garnered a reputation within our circle of friends as a gossip queen, which he gladly accepted with pride. When I offered him free rent to take his newly educated brain and move it to California after graduation, he jumped on it without hesitation.
By now, I was pulling into the visitor’s lot at the naval base. The place was so large that I could not see if his ship was actually at the dock. His last text did say he should be in the visitor’s lot by noon. Putting a Dave Mathews tune on my iPhone, which played through the car system, I reclined my seat and waited. Bill’s impending arrival made me think about back east. I had not been back there since I wrapped up the myriad of details regarding the final will and real estate sale. I still had the LBI house, which was regularly used by friends and their family as well as a large climate controlled storage shed, which contained most of my past life, and reminders of my parents and grandparents.
With the trust fund from my parents, which my grandparents established, and the inheritance from my grandparents, I was sitting on just over $26 million dollars. I knew my grandparents were wealthy, but did not realize how well my grandfather had done in business and investments. My parent’s trust fund for me had almost doubled in value since their death and added up to about a fifth of the total. Except for the half million dollars I needed to purchase a 25000 square foot 2-story mixed use building at the edge of an industrial park, the money had not been touched. Even though the market had yoyo’d numerous times my anonymous investment team had made some solid choices and the account had never lost money and steadily increased.
Chez Rico, as I called it, was my pride and joy. The building, just off 17th street in San Diego, originally had a downstairs that was set up as a machinist and fabrication shop similar to the older Orange County Chopper shop floor seen on TV. I had purchased it at a bankruptcy sale and got all the tools and machines included with it. A couple of small offices on the second floor cordoned off the space, but the majority was wide open. This was an older building and much of the support beams were made of roughhewn wood with windows that were almost 2-stories high. I made a number of initial improvements upstairs so that it would be comfortable to live in. For the most part, the upstairs walls were red brick except where the bathrooms and sleeping areas occupied. New energy efficient windows, upgraded heat and cooling systems and new electrical panel were at the core. The entire floor was finished with a textured porcelain tile in a rich terra cotta color. The kitchen was open to the main room and separated by a long granite countertop with a built in sink. A separate sink sat beneath a large palladium style window with a view of the activity on 17th street. None of the other windows had an interesting view. A Viking gas range and oven took up the next six feet ending with a massive side-by-side refrigerator and freezer.
In the farthest corner from the kitchen were two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master bedroom was about 20 feet by 20 feet and sported a huge bathroom completely tiled from top to bottom with a spacious shower and no enclosure door. A few large tropical plants accented the shower area from the rest of the room. The walls of the bedroom only extended upwards to 10 feet and not to the ceiling giving the impression of unlimited space.
It cost me about 20 grand to refurbish the old freight elevator, but the place now had its own working elevator as well as a staircase. The final upstairs ‘pesto resistance' was the spiral staircase I had installed to access the roof. The staircase in the back left corner brought you to a small protected enclosure on the roof. When stepping out of the enclosure, visitors to my roof top paradise were treated to a teak platform that spanned a good portion of the roof and was equipped with chaise lounges, umbrellas, a humongous natural gas grill and eight-person hot tub. I also had a section where I grew different herbs and vegetables. Let us just say, that I really liked to hang out on the roof around dusk with a cold beer, tasty steak and an all-weather refrigerator stocked with cold drinks.
I jumped up alert from dayd
reaming as something wet and cold entered my ear. If I had not still had my seatbelt on I think I would have actually hit the roof as Bill stuck his pinkly finger into my left ear, wet from his obviously cold bottle of water. Laughing at catching me un-prepared, he yelled at me saying “Eugeeene open the trunk for me so I can dump my crap in.” Apparently, he had to jam his duffel bag and other items into the trunk since it was not a very large space. Jumping into the front seat he fist bumped me and said, “Dude can I drive?” “When was the last time you drove anything,” I said. “Not since you last saw me,” he answered. To which I replied, “no way man, you’ll have sea legs for the next day.” “Rico my man, as soon as we get to your place I need to show you something and then pack it up and send it back east to the professor. Do have any shipping materials around?” We’ll see I said, as I pulled back onto 75 and opened up the Camaro with a comforting roar.
The 15-minute ride back was uneventful and Bill had me in stiches the whole time as he regaled me with stories of how his shipmates good-naturedly hazed him the entire time. The funniest story was the one where the crew put a blanket over his head during his 60 second shower and made him stay out on the deck buck-naked as they entered a small South Pacific port. I wish I had a picture of him standing on deck with a floatation device hanging around his front waist while his butt was burning in the sun, waving to all the locals as if was in a Miss America pageant.
Driving around to the rear of the building, I hit a button on one of the two remote controls in the car. Immediately the far left loading dock door started to rise. I drove the car inside and out of the sun into the dark cool area. The floors were natural cement and polished into a low shine. In addition to the Camaro, a new Dodge Ram pickup was there, as well as a 2007 Hummer H2 with a ton of gaudy accessories. Bill was dying to drive the Hummer so he immediately asked if I had gotten it running. The Hummer had come with the building, but the engine appeared to be blown. I hesitated fixing it since GM dropped the Hummer and many people viewed them as a symbol of excessiveness since it guzzled gas in gallons per minute. “No Bill,” I said, “I am still not sure what to do with it. If you want it it’s yours.” “Sure rich guy, make yourself feel better around the little people by giving away your castoffs. I have too much pride, he quickly responded.” “Shut up you idiot and welcome back,” I said with a big grin.
Getting out of the car and opening the trunk, I helped Bill with extracting his luggage from the cramped cargo area. It came out harder then it went in. With all this junk, I figured we would make one of those rare uses of the elevator. The elevator was close to the loading doors for obvious reasons. Pulling the gate across the doorway, Bill hit the button for the top floor. As we started to rise, he said, “That looks new” as he nodded in the general direction of my mini gym and dojo. “Yeah” I said, “the job had me sitting in front of computers all day or on flights all over the globe and I really needed to work up a sweat every now and then.” I will give you the tour later.
Grabbing Bill’s heavy bag, I left him with his smaller ones as well as his backpack and PC. We carried everything to the spare bedroom and just threw it on the floor. The spare bedroom and bathroom were just slightly smaller versions of my room and bath. Heading back to the kitchen I grabbed a couple of cold Bass Ales out of the fridge and popped the caps with my official fake old fashioned brass Pepsi Cola opener. About 10 minutes later Bill came out of the room carrying two plastic bags. “I almost started to drink your beer and it’s probably warm by now,” I said. “That’s right; you’re used to it being warm since you can never keep up with the real men,” Bill responded lamely. “Screw you bud you know I’ve left you sleeping under the table when we went head to head in the past,” was my retort. Laughing, I asked him what was in the bags. The big bag he said is my laundry and I have to warn you it is rank. No girls to impress while out to sea. The other bag is what I want to show you. Let’s head back downstairs so I can get the stink out of my clothes and I will show you something really cool.
While Bill was loading up his laundry, I was loosening up on the gym mats and taking a few shots at my heavy bag. Solid right, BAM, left right combination BAM, BAM, moving to my left I let out three quick solid jabs WAK, WAK, WAK. I took a full step back and I let loose with a roundhouse kick with my right leg and connected with the bag about neck high of an average person with a deep resonating THUMP, jerking the bag violently on its chain. Bill had already moved over to one of the many workbench surfaces and flicked on a bright fluorescent desk light. He dumped an object still sealed in a large zip lock bag on the table from the larger bag it was originally stored. He also took a quart bottle of Ethyl alcohol out of the same bag and two more zip locks. Getting curious, I looked more closely at the object. Just visible through the clear bag was what looked like a rubbery object with a pale green tint in about a quart or two of liquid.
Using the original bag to protect the workbench surface, Bill unzipped the other bag, reached in, took out the object and laid it on the larger plastic bag. “This Rico, is a never before seen aquatic plant that grows somewhere around 1500 feet below the South Pacific Ocean’s surface. My professor cannot find anything comparable and wants me to send this to him ASAP.” “How did you get it,” I asked. “I am probably breaking about 10 points in my non- disclosure agreement by telling you, but we salvaged parts of a crashed Navy plane from about 1500 feet under the sea and this came up with the biggest part. The weird thing was that when I first picked it off the plane, it gave me such a jolt that I actually dropped it. Since then, other than a slight tingle, I haven’t felt anything.” Peering even closer, the plant appeared to be almost like a silicone mold, similar to those squeeze toys they used to sell. I also noticed there was just a faint brine smell similar to those smells experienced by people living in coastal areas. The surface was interwoven and formed an interconnected mesh. It was certainly nothing like I had ever seen before.
Searching around the bench area, Bill came up with a carpet knife and ceremoniously cut off a 4-inch by 6-inch piece of the plant. Still looking down he said, “This is just in case it gets lost in shipping.” Grabbing one of the bags, he asked me to hold it open. When I had pried it open, he took the larger piece of plant and dumped it in the bag. Next, he grabbed the alcohol, and warning me not to breathe the fumes, dumped the entire contents into the bag. “Hold that thought” he said to me as he jogged over to the laundry sink and filled the alcohol bottle about a third the way up with water and then when he came back, dumped the new contents of the bottle into the bag. He saw me looking at him and he just said that is was a simple preservative. Draining a little of the preservative out into a small plastic bag, he put the smaller specimen in there. Taking the larger bag from me, he eased out any air pockets and had me zip up the bag. He next put it into a second zip lock and leaving some air in it to act as a cushion, zipped that one up.
Glancing around the room, Bill asked if I had any small cardboard boxes and shipping tape. “I got just what you need,” I said and told him to grab the bag and follow me. About 20 feet away was a whole bench area dedicated to shipping stuff, compliments of the previous owner. Bill bent down, pulled out a couple of used boxes from under the bench, picked one and exclaimed, “This should do the trick”, and dumped the bag into it to see how it fit. It looked to me to be perfect since it left little room for shifting around. He must have agreed since he started to tape it up.
I let Bill drive to the post office as I called a local pizzeria and ordered a couple of pies. My stomach was gurgling I was so hungry. Bill had whined that I did not let him drive the Camaro and was now trying to squeeze the big pickup truck into a spot about a foot wider than the truck. He had to wiggle his lanky body through the door that only opened about 8 inches wide so not to scratch the Lexus next to him. He was taking a long time, so I used my iPhone to see if I had any email or text messages. Derrick from work had sent out and email to a number of coworkers informing them he was going to be at the ’Whine Not‘ c
lub after 10 tonight. He suggested that if anyone wanted to join him to meet him there. The Whine Not club was one of my favorite hangouts, because they usually had some good up and coming musical talent play there on weekends and tonight was no exception. It was also only about 10 blocks from my place and I could crawl home if needed.
Bill came out of the post office in a bit of a prissy mood. Getting back into the truck did not help his mood, as he had to perform as a contortionist to get back into the truck. Apparently, one of the clerks inside felt it necessary to ask about everyone’s family and pets while trying to process the mail. With only two clerks, it really backed up the line. Then he could not make up his mind regarding what service to use, register the package or certified delivery. He told me in exasperation, “I just went with was most expensive.” To cheer him up, I told him I was taking him to the Whine Not tonight, as a welcome home present with drinks on me. This had the immediate effect on him that I expected. He broke out in to goofy wide ass grin and we both said ‘Charlene’ at the same time. Charlene was a server and barmaid that worked there and was as funny as she was good looking. Whenever Bill was in town, they seemed to be together often. They both had the same weird sense of humor and when both of them got together, everyone around them spent the night in stiches. Of course being on a boat for a few months might have added to the breadth of his grin, Mike thought to himself.
Grabbing the pizzas, we zipped up to the second floor and then climbed the spiral stairs to the roof where we dumped ourselves into a couple of lounge chairs. The sun had already begun to set and the sky was showing some nice color. Bill got up and went to the fridge. Opening it up and with his head inside, asked if I was staying with the Bass, which I said “yes” to. As he was opening them, I was putting my iPhone in the cradle to play music through the surround sound system built into the deck area. “Thank God,” he said, “I am so tired of the playlist on my phone after listening to it for months. I think I could listen to Rap at this time and actually think it was good.”
