CHAPTER TWO
I was rather concerned as I trudged my way to Greg Driscoll's office; he was the director of internal and external operations - my boss. Many questions were preventing me from focusing properly; could it possibly just be a hoax? How serious is it? What's it all about? I hated being kept in the dark! As I approached his mahogany office door I knocked and let myself in; unfortunately his secretary, who Pam, my best friend here, said was after me, was sitting behind her desk, adorned with all things pink and fluffy, painting her finger nails an eye hurting shade. She was the only person I know who could pull off pink in a traditional office suite.
"Umm ... hi Sasha."
I said as softly as possible to save her painting her fingers instead; she looked up at me, startled, set the vile smelling varnish down on her desk, and blew and shook her hands repeatedly over and over.
"Hi Kris" she said moving towards my seductively; her cleavage on public show. "Are you ever going to take me up on that dinner date honey? I can guarantee an exciting night" she said, in her trademark squeaky voice, leaning over showing me yet more of her ample sized womanhood. I began to panic a little as she had me pinned up to the office wall groping my body in every place imaginable and ... did she just pinch my ass? She began to move her pretty face closer to mine and, try as I might, I found myself being drawn towards her soft lips and the cleavage she taken upon herself to thrust into my chest; thank god Greg walked in and saved me.
"Are you two quite finished?" he said in a louder than normal tone looking rather perplexed. Sasha began buttoning up her blouse, straightening her skirt, sorting out her hair and doing some 'constructive' work. Greg turned giving me an x-ray like stare and said "Kristoffer please leave my secretary alone in future; she has lots of work to be getting on with." After shaking his head from side to side he nodded for me to proceed into his office.
"Bye ... stud" was the closing remark I heard from Sasha. I waved my hand behind my back telling her to shut up; all she did was giggle and smile.
Greg's office wasn't very big by senior staff comparison; it was well kitted out with bookshelves, paintings, a desk/computer and a black leather sofa for more 'informal' meetings. I took a seat at his desk where he proceeded to roll his eyes and hand me a tissue; I looked at him puzzled whilst he rubbed his finger up and down the right side of his cheek -- I rubbed, with the tissue, at the same side of my cheek and, sure enough, lipstick, bright pink lipstick. I looked up to see the older man smile and turn a little red
"I'm sorry son -- I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, I know what she's like" I smiled and brushed his comment aside.
"Since when did having a high sex drive get classed as a disability?" I joked which led to both of us having a giggle. I enjoyed moments like this; the less stressful the better.
"You know you say that son but I see more of her than you and she is very, very different towards the other men in this place -- she's never so ... so" he looked lost trying to find an appropriate word.
"Bold?" I suggested smiling. He nodded in agreement and slid a folder in front of me with the word `confidential' printed all over it in bold print.
"I'm sorry to get straight down to business Kris but this is rather important" he said pulling himself into his desk and crossing his arms leaning forward; I set the dossier down and nodded in response. "Financial analysts have begun expressing certain concerns about cyber espionage, perhaps even sabotage, attacks against Britain and her foreign interests from China."
I sat up and stiffened a little upon hearing this. I wasn't sure whether Greg knew but several Asian countries were sending out financial mail shots around Britain to various businesses; they were not as cleaver as they though, however, because they foolishly send one to our mail room prompting us to investigate further. I was still trying to remember what the mail shots were asking for when Greg, not caring whether I was listening or not, continued.
"Nothing except monitoring of UK financial institutions has been detected so far -- but who knows what they can do with the data?" The poor guy must have had a hell of I night, I thought to myself, as he rubbed his face with both his hands and yawned for a second time. He looked as though he wished he was anywhere but here.
"I understand the current situation Greg, but why me, there are other people in this office far better equipped to deal with financial situations?" I said adding to his frustrations. Greg opened his mouth and closed it almost as quick; he proceeded to press a rather obscure looking button on his desk. I wasn't 100% sure what it was, I had never seen him use it since I began working here, but I believed it was an electromagnetic jamming device; incase his office was bugged! Although I had never made it a practice to become friendly with my superiors, I always saw them as interfering, me and Greg shared a certain bond between us; we never liked to see each other upset. "Look Greg it can't be that bad surely -- you know I respect privacy and won't repeat anything you tell me" I said to try and put him as ease as I began to notice the windows get darker and the lights slightly more bright. He nodded his head several times -- his thinning pale brown hair becoming troublesome and unruly; beads of sweat making his head shine.
"Alright Kristoffer -- but you must listen carefully! The UK and her various associates have a lot of government and private money tied up in overseas companies and investments. I'm asking you personally to oversee the British side of this operation because, as you will see on the blue sheet in the dossier, a safe house/listening post in Sabac, Serbia has evidence the clandestine Chinese cyber attacks are being ran from within Serbia and its neighboring countries -- our agents and the BIA have been informed. With your knowledge of Serbia and her bordering countries you are an invaluable asset to us Kris -- you just have to help!" I was warmed and touched by the trust Greg was showing in me; I had began to believe, because of my feelings towards managers, and the like, that I would never be chosen to be part of an important operation. I leaned forward ready to raise the point of my financial skills, or lack of, when Greg tapped his desk button once more, stood up, and turned to view outside the brightening windows whilst informing me "as for the financial matter the BIA, your previous employer, is sending someone from their head quarter's, with skills in both Serbian and English banking processes, to help you in this investigation. He is flying in specially but i'm not sure when he's due to touch down."
Noticing my dossier was staggeringly lacking in what implications these attacks could have for the UK I posed the question to Greg; I certainly had no idea. Greg was becoming rather preoccupied with removing a stubborn stain on his window frame. Whilst continuing with his `cleaning spree' he said, without turning, "I have no idea Kris -- I am not clued up on fiscal matters either but there will be in meeting in my office, towards the end of the day, with a member of HRM treasury to address this matter. I'm sorry this is a short meeting son but I have been up half the night worrying and I don't feel at my best."
I certainly empathised with Greg's predicament, no man deserved this, and so I thought it best to leave him to it; I only paused when I approached his office door and remembered who was occupying the room opposite. I pointed to Greg's private office door and said.
"Umm ... do you mind?"
The older gentleman looked up at me from his mountain of paperwork, followed my hand and only laughed and nodded; signaling his consent. I flashed a smile in his direction and made my way across his plush cream fluffy carpet towards the door. I had only placed a hand on the polished gold door knob when there was a light knock at Sasha's door; I turned, out of pure nosiness, to see who it was; ready to volt if it was her.
The person standing at the opposite end of the room was like a figure plucked from my wildest dreams; he was dressed in a rather tight fitting black wife beater and dark jeans which were clearly containing a large looking ... no I can't possibly entertain those kind of thoughts. He was in stark contrast to myself; he had rather long, dirty blonde hair and the most honest looking chocolate brown eyes I had ever seen ... Sasha had certainly taken a shine to him by the way she was gawking at his rather nice looking ass. I definitely had competition now! I, on the other hand, had jet black hair, on my mother's side, and dark cobalt eyes that led many people to believe I was a cold/heartless individual; I often hoped that that was far from the truth! The only thing we shared in common, from what I could see, was a slightly pronounced tan and 'Baltic' looks. I, unfortunately, was so transfixed with this curious individual that I had failed to spot the two of them looking in my direction; Greg wondering why I hadn't left, the new guy wondering who I was and Sasha ... well she had forgotten I even existed. I promptly closed the door, hesitantly, with just a slight feeling of embarrassment. Just the sheer presents of that guy made me want to run back into the room, rip his clothes off and have my wicked way with him whether Greg and Sasha were their or not.
I made my way over to my desk in a kind of dazed stupor not noticing Pam sneaking up behind me until she yelled out.
"OW YA DOIN' SWEETHEART?"
It felt like everybody in the entire building watched as my arms flew up in the air; along with this `confidential' file. Luckily I caught it in time and bopped Pam on the head with it; all she did in response was grab me in the sort of tight hugs close friends do. Pam was about 40ish, a proud cockney and an all around great laugh; she was only one of a handful of people who knew I liked to bat for the home team. She seemed to be one of these rare breed of people who just have people flock to her.
"Have you been for a fag break without inviting me Pam?" I joked with her as I sat down and logged onto my area; she looked up at me pushing her newly bought black, complete with white floral, designer glasses back in place saying
"You know me darlin' I can't wait till Christmas!" I smiled at her quick comeback -- touché Pam. I spent the next three hours trying to contact various contacts across the globe trying to piece together what, exactly, the Chinese, and, potentially Serbia, were up to regarding Britain's finances whilst, simultaneously, trying to hack into the Central Bank of China to do some 'research' of my own. I had managed to circumvent their primary security protocols with our software but, somewhat surprisingly, each account and transaction was idiosyncratically encrypted and progress was becoming a royal pain in the ass! With the trouble I was having I referred a rather tasty looking Chinese government account over to our encryption/decryption department but was told it could take some time for a result. Happy with the, somewhat limited, progress I had made in three hours I leaned back in my black leather chair, yawned and stretched while a single, solitary cigarette rolled its way across Pam's desk to mine.
"C'mon darlin' -- you look like you could do with it" she said smiling as she nodded towards smokers corner.' I smiled and we both made general chit chat on our way out. Smokers corner' was a rather attractive outdoor garden area compete with decking, plant, patio heater and ... the `band stand;' a covered area for when the weather turned British! Altogether a rather attractive area. Me and Pam were privileged enough to be the only people outside. We started talking about random things; what she was cooking her family for dinner, how I should have my hair styled and, most importantly, who I was taking to the services Valentines Day bash.
"Pam, you know me and Ricky aren't together any more; I just don't feel like doing Valentines Day this year." I said in a rather somber mood; dropping my fag on the floor and stamping on it. Pam looked up at me oddly as she, once again, pushed her glasses back up to their right place. She took a long, hard drag of her cigarette; I knew she was thinking of a response -- I really wished she wasn't so mothering sometimes.
"Honey; I worry about ya'! I know you have taken it hard" I tried to say something but she waved her hands, cutting me off "Kris -- you're a young guy! You should be out enjoying yourself sweetheart! You use to be so different you know; I miss ya'." She said as she rubbed my back in a comforting gesture; I just looked at her. I was saved from having to answering her when the door slammed open and out came Hillary Zwarez and her cronies;' me and Pam called them the slag pack.' All five of them looked like identical clones; peroxide blonde hair, fake tans, makeup that looked as though it had been trawled on and, most amusingly, the same brand of cigarettes and coloured lighters. They were the bitchiest people we had on staff; moaning about everything and anyone. Surprisingly, today, they all seemed to be in a happier mood than normal; I couldn't make out all of their conversation because they chose to stand a few feet away from me and Pam but they seemed to be laughing and giggling over some new stud' that had started today -- nothing new there I thought to myself! I did hear them mutter the name Niko a lot. Not a very English sounding name I must admit. There was a time, long ago, when me and Hillary, the self appointed leader' of the pack, were friends of a sort but all that changed when I told her, in confidence I might add, that I preferred her brother to her. She never spoke to me after that drunken night and had gone out of her way to make my life a living hell! I wasn't much bothered to be honest -- it's not like she was as popular as she liked to kid on.
Pam, who had been sneering ever since the slag pack descended upon us, unfolded her arms, shook her hands and stomped back into the building "see ya' later darlin'" she said as she walked away. I wasn't inclined to stay outside so followed her back inside. Once inside, after asking Pam if she wanted anything to eat or drink, I made my way over to the refectory to stock up on some much needed caffeine. Coffee in one hand and munchies in the other, a difficult task to coordinate!, I made my way back over to my desk, however, as I approached my seat I noticed the guy who was in Greg's office sitting at my desk. He was holding the only picture I had left of Ricky in both hands with a perplexed look on his face; his long hair was shining in the light. I wanted nothing more at that point to turn around and sit in the refectory till he had gone, however, luck was not on my side today as he carefully placed the picture back on my desk, looked up, saw me and smiled a killer that seemed to draw me to him.