Read Online Project Northwest by C. B. Carter - Free Book Online

affixed two stamps and tucked the letter
in the back of his pants, under his shirt, and exited the bathroom.
No one was waiting. The hallway was empty.
    The elevator doors opened and a group of
businessmen made room for him to enter. The elevator button panel
showed they were heading to the data room floor and his heart began
to pound. He tucked his chin into his chest and tried to calm down,
purposely avoiding eye contact. The morning conversation was
centered on Shea Stadium and its impending closure and James
assumed the group was from New York.
    The doors opened, the group exited, and James
continued up to the employee patio. He found the floor standing
mailbox, looked around and when the coast was clear, he dropped the
envelope into the mailbox. His heart was pounding and he was
beginning to sweat from all the apprehension. He tried to calm
himself as he took the elevator back to the data room floor.
    Through security, he entered the data room
and immediately noted the bunch of suits outside a meeting room. It
was the same group with whom he shared the elevator. Mr. Stone saw
him enter and said, “There he is, James, come here for a moment,
would you?”
    James hesitated then walked over toward the
group of strangers.
    Mr. Stone was singing his praises. “James is
one of our best and brightest, you’ll have to excuse his
appearance—he was in a car accident on Friday and in true fashion
of team spirit, he arrived to work early this morning. We could use
more like James.”
    “Who couldn’t?” agreed the suits leader, as
he extended his hand and vaguely explained they were from an
insurance company, on property to look over the bank’s numbers.
James took his hand in a hearty shake and forgot each name
exchanged during the introductions. He repeated, “Car accident on
Friday,” when he saw the individuals’ reactions to the minor cuts
and bruises on his face.
    He did remember one name, not because of the
name, but because of the color of her eyes, a transparent blue-gray
stone color, almost like granite. She was absolutely stunning,
reminded him of a modern day Elizabeth Taylor, same curvaceous
body, black hair that was dyed, but done professionally at some
topnotch VIP salon, designer jacket, and shoes. She exuded
confidence, and those eyes...who would ever forget those eyes? She
could easily be on TV pushing her own perfume or lingerie product
line or on a pin–up poster in some past war.
    She introduced herself as Shelly Spenser and
when the moment presented itself, she placed her hand on James’s
shoulder and asked, “Are you clever, James?”
    James was taken aback. He didn’t know if she
was the contact, but she certainly fit the bill, what she said next
all but sealed the deal.
    “Bricks aren’t monitored James. Monitoring a
physical connection or hardware on the network is antiquated—it’s
your login that’s monitored. No damage done, but leave the clever
stuff to us, okay?” she implored as she patted James on the
shoulder with the true intent of reprimand. James, not slow on the
uptake, understood completely.
    James followed her into the meeting room and
found a seat opposite her. The leader, now representing himself as
a lawyer, quickly laid out the purpose of the meeting. His team
represented certain insurance institutions in the New York area,
primarily a collective group of Wall Street firms who were
interested in how the bank was fairing in the turmoil that was
happening in the financial markets.
    They didn’t want anything secret or
protected, but needed the publically released information first
hand. He further set out the team’s responsibilities; he and his
three associates would be doing a general audit, while Shelly
focused on an equally important but more manageable small side
project for the purpose of creating daily summary reports.
    The insurance lawyer presented each person
with a blanket non-disclosure and confidentiality agreement and
everyone signed, most not even