MBA - Moron$ Ba$ and A$ PG Version

by Jeff Blackwell

  Chapter Forty-Four

  After Midnight

  As I had so eloquently noted, late that evening I journeyed to my super secret spot inside the plant to enter temperatures and pressures for the upcoming X-400 batch. Given that Dusty was on the prowl for my numbers, I took a circuitous route from the parking lot employing the best spy-craft type serpentine walking style with frequent pauses and ninety (okay thirty-five) degree head snaps to spot anyone that dared attempt to try and follow me.

  “Hey, Mick, looks like you’re not feeling much pain. I thought we had a no tolerance alcohol policy here.”

  Those nightshift operators are a hilarious lot, especially when they are standing on the smoking pad taking a cancer enhancement break. Yeah, they are a riot.

  I got to my selected control room with a slightly red face but solidly assured that Dusty was no where around. I quickly entered the numbers using the formula that was firmly ensconced between my ears and left satisfied in my stealth.

  As I pulled into the driveway of my abode, I cranked down the rocking sounds of BTO’s Greatest Hits that had stretched my speakers and kept me awake on the twenty minute drive home. I pulled into the garage and was reaching to turn the car off when a random thought pinged against my wrinkled forehead. “C’mon, Mick, you know you logged off and shutdown the computer before you left. You always do. Yeah, but I’m not always dreaming about Dusty naked in a vat of Jello while I’m entering the numbers. And I am arguing with myself in my garage in the middle of the night. So maybe, this one time… No. You know you did. You wouldn’t do something that stupid.”

  I chuckled a bit about my paranoia getting the best of me and got out of the car. I took two steps and paused.

  “Dang it.”

  I re-inserted BTO into the CD player and headed back to the plant.

  “Darn, darn, darn.” I was ninety-nine point nine percent convinced that I had logged off. But, when the need for security was at its highest, even a drop of doubt must be wiped up.

  I got there around midnight. I waved to Diddy at the guard house, swiped my card at the gate and walked back into the plant. Diddy didn’t even look up. And his breathing seemed pretty rhythmic. At least somebody was getting a good night’s sleep. What a complete stupid waste of time this was going to be.

  “Hey, Mick, looks like you sobered up. This is a pretty popular spot for you tonight. What? Is the girlfriend out of town again?”

  What are the odds that I run into the same two chuckleheads in the same place taking another Camel break?

  “I guess you guys are sucking enough smoke into your lungs that you have plenty to blow up my backside. Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

  “Hey, cut us some slack. You know we will be busting tail tomorrow with the X-400 run. We are just doing some pre-planning out here in the fresh tar and nicotine filled Carolina night air. And speaking of busting some tail, I see you are heading back into the control room.”

  I didn’t really understand that comment. Given the grins and giggles that were coming from them, I was half tempted to be sure that was only tobacco they were smoking.

  “Yeah, that’s me, Mr. Workaholic.”

  I’m sure their witty comeback was a thing of comic genius. Fortunately, it was only for their own enjoyment as I let the control room door slam shut behind me. The control room consisted of a large open space with a square of desks in the middle butted up against each other. On the outer walls were monitors that gave the status of all the operating parameters of the units in this section. When there were no production runs, as was the case tonight, a skeleton crew covered several control rooms to ensure the idling units were, well, idling. That was a leftover from the Elwood instituted cost reductions that actually made some sense. Tonight, we seemed to have a smoking addicted skeleton crew of two. Both appeared to be more Red Skeltons then skeletons. The office where I had input the data was in an alcove in the back. As I approached, I could see that the lights were off but the door was slightly ajar. That was odd since I usually closed it when I finished. Maybe coming here wasn’t a total waste of time. As I glanced in, I didn’t see a glow from the desktop. I guess I had turned the computer off. Time to lock the door and head home a little more self assured. I think I could handle me and Randy belting out one more chorus of Roll on Down the Highway as we rolled on down the highway.

  I was just turning to go when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small sliver of light coming from underneath the desk. I reached over and flicked on the office lights without a second thought.

  A high pitched voice screamed, “Who’s there?”

  I know it wasn’t me since my voice doesn’t sound like that. I then heard a loud thunk and an even louder, “Ouch!”

  I think I might have been a little less surprised if Jimmy Hoffa had popped out from under the desk. Instead, it was Dusty. She had a mini Maglite in one hand. In her other hand was a small metal box with a thin wire dangling from it ending in what I think was an alligator clip. She sat it on the desk as she rubbed the top of her head.

  “Geez, Mick, you scared the daylights out of me. I think I might have peed myself a little bit.”

  “I scared you? Look at the puddle on the floor in front of me.”

  We both said at the exact same time, “What are you doing here?”

  Dusty stared back at me with a slightly scared look on her face and kept silent. I couldn’t help but notice that she was sporting a pair of tight black jeans and a black turtle neck that was snugly hugging her very huggable places. Her blonde locks were stuffed up under a black stocking cap. While she looked adorable, I had to wonder if Halloween had come early this year.

  “Ok, I’ll go first. I came back because I wasn’t sure I had logged off and shutdown the computer. Now it’s your turn. First of all, what is that thing on the desk?”

  “You mean this small metal box with a thin wire attached to an alligator clip?”

  Darn, I’m good. “No, I mean that slightly chewed pencil. Of course I mean that metal box.” I might have said that a little too loudly.

  I could see a twinkle slowly enter her eyes. Her scared countenance morphed into a bemused smile. I could almost hear the gears grinding as she thought about what to say. My sixth spider sense whispered to my subconscious that the next words out of her mouth might not be one hundred percent truthful.

  “Ok, you caught me Mick. But I also now have you. That’s probably why you are upset.”

  “Huh?”

  “You see, this is a keyboard stroke tracker. It will tell me what keystrokes you entered into the computer. I retrieve this after you enter your data and viola; I know the numbers you put in. Given the other parameters I have, I think I can reverse engineer your part of the formula. So, I say again, gotcha Mick!”

  She gave me an extremely cute look of haughty superiority. I think she expected me to bow to her brilliance and declare defeat. Instead, I took a minute to chew on what she had just said.

  “You know, I was born at night, but not last night.”

  Now it was her turn for confusion.

  “First of all, you are supposed to find out how an outsider could learn our formula. To put that gizmo onto my terminal, you had to gain access to the plant. Your other tricks were in the administrative office outside the plant gates. It’s easy to get into there. Getting into a control room inside the plant, not so much. You already had access granted by virtue of working here. An outsider would not. Second, how did you know which terminal to attach Mr. Wizard there to? We have five control rooms. I could have been in any of them. They all have multiple terminals. There are only a select few in each that connect to the X-400 reactors. Third, how did you know where I was tonight?”

  “Ok, Mick. First, I admit that getting into the plant might not be simple. But a stolen badge and some stage make-up could get you past the sleepy guard at the gate. You could also stow away in the ba
ck of a delivery vehicle. Second, I got the computer network schematic from Earl. It lists all the terminals that have access to the X-400 reactors. I put a tracker on each of them. Third, knowing which control room you went to was easy. I asked a couple of dudes on the smoking pad. After they stared at my chest for a few seconds, they pointed me in the right direction. Now, I’ll admit, an outsider may not have my outstanding breasticle attributes, but I don’t think following your trail would be all that hard.”

  Normally that would have elicited a laugh or at least a smile from me. But I knew she was lying about Earl giving her the schematic. I was starting to get mad.

  “Look, I don’t know what game you are playing, but I know you are telling me a bold faced lie. And I wonder why, Dusty? Is there something more going on here? I think I better take your Mr. Wizard box and we should all meet with Chuck in the morning.”

  “Mick, I thought you and I were good friends. I don’t understand your mistrust and bad attitude. But, if that’s what you want to do, fine with me.”

  She came out from behind the desk with the tracker in her hand. Her face came within inches of mine.

  “Mick, I think we really could have had something together. Such a pity.”

  She raised her hand to show me the tracker. At the last instant, I noticed it wasn’t the tracker she was holding. Instead it looked like some sort of small canister. Unfortunately, my nostrils were strongly inhaling the delicate scent of roses and raw sex that flowed off of her when she suddenly sprayed a large amount of God knows what directly into my face.