The Voss Coin

by A B Alexander

  “All right, John, I made a serious misjudgment. In Japan I met with a few big-shot Asian investors and I shared with them some ideas regarding a potential Intelias project. I didn’t discuss it with you because the basis of the project is launching a new cryptocurrency and you have no background expertise on this subject. I’m aware that Intelias is not a financial institution and it’s not our industry. However, the idea is brilliant and we can successfully bring innovation to the financial markets. You spoke about Google earlier, well I’m one hundred percent certain that this project will sky-rocket our growth and turn us into one of the big-five U.S. corporations. Our Asian counterparts have bought into the idea and the news spread like wildfire, so that’s definitely a positive sign.”

  Kevin paused, analyzing John’s stunned eyes. He could sense the veil of panic sweeping over his face like an oncoming tsunami.

  “I saw your interview on TV the other day, you defended the stock climb by claiming it was natural and justified. You know the implications, I’m so sorry John. I know that we could both be indicted for insider trading because of this fuck-up. The only real way I see to avoid an investigation is to get approval for this project and make the news public as quickly as possible. The other option is that you call in the Feds right now and lay it on me. The way this stock has been climbing, I’ll be looking at twenty years minimum in the cage.”

  Kevin took a deep breath, he couldn’t have said it better. Even though he gave John an option, essentially there was none. He would not risk an investigation; it would be a fatal blow to Intelias and his reputation would be permanently tarnished. John was so close to retirement that he probably already envisioned the sea breeze on his yacht while it cruised gently through the Pacific. He wouldn’t flush his life’s work down the toilet just to do the right thing. He would have to trust him like he always did and go ahead with this project even if he knew little to nothing about it.

  John placed his hands behind his head and leaned back in his seat, resigned to the inevitable.

  “I really thought I knew who you were, Kevin, but I guess we all have a dark side. I didn’t expect you to blindside me with news like this. This is an extremely fucking dangerous move, and that’s putting it mildly. You’ve placed our lives and the future of the company in your hands. The too-big-to-fail fallacy is long gone, history has taught us differently. I really don’t understand your motives and why you felt it was necessary to breach my trust and endanger our futures. Looks like a real ego trip. If I knew you were that power-hungry, I would’ve retired earlier. To tell you the truth, it doesn’t really matter anymore. The stock is climbing like a hot air balloon and we’re all going to be fucked unless you can successfully pitch your idea to the board and we can go public with some news that’ll justify the rising price. You have my vote. When will you be ready to present it to the board?”

  Kevin smirked, he had him exactly where he wanted. John’s natural arrogant flare dissipated before his eyes. He owned him now, exactly the same way that his captors did.

  “Great, thanks for your understanding, John. I don’t care about your position as CEO, you can keep it, that’s not what I’m after. I want the new cryptocurrency to be named the Voss Coin. This project is a work of art, and its creator should be known. It is the only way to eternalize my work. I’ll be ready with the board presentation in a few days.”

  John stood up and stretched out his beefy right hand, his gold watch shimmering under the spot lights. They shook hands with a firm grip. “You have a deal, Kevin. Now it depends on the board for approval. I thought I was a pretty good judge of character and I never took you for the totalitarian type. So either I was delusional or you’ve undergone some major changes in mindset. I just want to make something clear. If you screw this up, I’ll make sure that you go down for this ahead of anybody else.”

  Kevin nodded and turned toward the door. He walked out into the expansive lobby and smiled. That was a move precisely from his captors’ playbook. John was right, he did have another side to him. Survival had unleashed his dark side and he wanted it all.

  12

  The Vote

  The thunderous sound of clapping palms rang around the Intelias boardroom. Kevin smiled contently, relieved by the outcome. He shook hands with each of the fifteen Intelias board members. Moments earlier they had voted fourteen to one in favor of the Voss Coin. The only vote against came from Bill Parsons, the longest-serving member of the Intelias board. Bill was an elderly Wall Street veteran with a deep sense of value and purpose. He was the former CEO of a fairly large hedge fund, so he had more financial experience than any board member. His main argument during the presentation was that the Voss Coin had no intrinsic value. There was nothing physical required to produce it, making it a bad stand-alone investment. Its value would be determined by what people were willing to pay for it. He also believed this project would corrupt the core values of Intelias and turn the company into a rogue money-making operation. He went as far as to threaten to quit his position and share his arguments with the media, a dangerous step that was viewed unfavorably. Luckily for Kevin, the rest of the board regarded Bill as an overly conservative old-timer. By the end of the presentation, Kevin barely managed to calm him down and organize a private meeting to discuss his concerns and future role in the company. He would worry about Bill later and find a way to keep the old man’s mouth shut. More important, the project officially belonged to Intelias and John was scheduled to make a public statement the next morning.

  Kevin returned to his office and poured himself a large glass of whiskey. He slumped onto the designer two-seater sofa and leaned his head against the headrest. He had popped two Xanax before he entered the boardroom; his senses felt numb and robotic. Each sip of whiskey was like a splash of cold water to the face, it revived him. Over the last few days, he was solely preoccupied with the presentation. He had gone through all the aspects of the Voss Coin Protocol and perfected every feature. He finally understood why his captors wanted it to be named after him. There were specific instructions in the documentation provided, they wanted a back door in the code. A perfectly disguised coded loophole that would give them an advantage when mining the Voss Coin. Since the Voss Coin code itself would be open source, it would undergo intense scrutiny by the SEC and the public, so it was impossible to manipulate it. However, what was possible was to create unique mining software tailor-made for the Voss Coin program, like a custom-built plug created to fit perfectly into the socket. It would be able to solve any complex mathematical puzzle generated by the Voss Coin network in order to validate transactions much faster than anybody else. Effectively, if it worked, they could completely monopolize the mining process and control the entire ecosystem. If the Voss Coin gained mainstream popularity and got incorporated into the modern banking system, they could control it at any time they wished. If their intentions were nefarious, the damage they could inflict would be irreparable. The world’s payments systems would be hijacked, and in an instant people’s lives would be a modern version of the dark ages.

  He downed the entire glass of whiskey, in no mood for sipping. On the one hand, he was relieved that he got over the hurdle of receiving the board’s approval, but on the other hand, the project was official and would be public knowledge tomorrow. His mind instinctively switched back to the words of his captors.

  “The Voss Coin will have more power than all the world’s atomic bombs in one room.”

  He rightly assumed that because his name was behind the project, they indeed intended to wreak havoc. With the foreseen damage, he would be regarded as the technological Hitler. He couldn’t allow that to happen, nobody should have that kind of power. He would have to find a way to prevent it. In coding terms, he needed to somehow develop a cable that would be attached to the plug, so that if the plug was ever inserted in the socket, he could yank it out by pulling on the cable. In addition, whoever was inserting the plug in the socket would have to be oblivious to the existence of the cabl
e. He understood the solution in theory, but technologically couldn’t find a feasible way to create it without it being noticeable. At face value, it seemed impossible. In any case, even if he did manage to create this failsafe to stop his captors, he seriously doubted it would help him. Maybe it would save the world from chaos, but his family would be murdered. There was no chance that he was going to sacrifice them for the greater good. He resolved that for the moment, he was going to collect evidence that he was being instructed. He needed proof that he was not the mastermind of this catastrophic plan.

  He stood up and paced around the office like a caged animal. He had to photograph the documents in his drawer before they retrieved them. He couldn’t use his mobile because he assumed they installed software that recorded his every action. He couldn’t risk it; his family was at stake. He had to find a way that was completely discreet and untraceable.

  Then he remembered Teddy, a skinny young recruit of Chinese descent that was part of the Intelias data security team. A few months back, Kevin overheard Teddy in the office elevator showing off some new spyware gadget to his colleagues on the way back from lunch.

  “You see this pen, guys, we caught one accountant from finance trying to steal confidential company information with this little beauty. One click is for taking a picture and two clicks is for video recording. We caught the fucker and now he’s in deep shit.”

  At the time, it piqued Kevin’s interest and he clearly recalled the conversation. He raced out of his office and headed toward the elevator. The data security team was located on the ninth floor and he sure as hell hoped Teddy was around. He brushed through the elevator doors and ran around like a headless chicken in search of Teddy. The ninth floor was an open space consisting of over fifty compact cubicles. Very quickly he realized that his chances of locating Teddy were close to none. It left him no choice.

  “Hello, everybody,” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Is Teddy here?” The intermittent clicking sound of the keyboards stopped and a gallery of faces appeared over the cubicle partitions. A guy to his left lifted up his arm, “Yes, I’m Teddy. I’m sorry, but do we know each other?”

  Kevin ran over to him and flopped down on his desk, flashing him his company ID card. “What can I do for you, Mr. Voss?” Teddy asked politely.

  “Teddy, I was in the elevator a few months back and I overheard your conversation about the guy from finance you caught using the pen gadget. Do you still have the pen, by any chance?” Teddy frowned his brow, surprised by the question, “Yeah, I remember, nothing to worry about. The guy was fired and we placed charges against him. He’s screwed. We also successfully prevented any leak of information from the pen, so it’s all good. I have the pen in my drawer, kept it as backup in case we ever needed it again.”

  Kevin stood up and pulled $200 from his wallet and dropped it on the table. “This is for the pen, I need it urgently.”

  Teddy opened the drawer and handed him the pen. It looked like an exact replica of the Mont Blanc ballpoint pen.

  Kevin raced toward the elevators with the pen in his pocket, he heard Teddy shout from behind, “Hey man, it’s cool, you don’t need to pay me. Let me show you at least how it works.” It was too late, he was already in the elevator. He didn’t have time to waste and saluted Teddy goodbye as the elevator doors slid shut.

  A minute later, he swung open his cabinet drawer and spread the documents on his desk. He inconspicuously held the pen in his right fist and aimed it at the relevant pages. He cautiously clicked once to capture an image, his eyes constantly scanning the pages. The sound of the click reverberated through his body; he feared being discovered. He flipped through as many pages as possible, clicking the pen every few seconds in habitual fashion. In truth, the clicking actually calmed him down in some weird way. He had managed to scan through almost all the key sections when suddenly his phone rang. It sounded like shattered glass. It felt like the floor beneath him had caved in and he was about to be smothered by the building’s rubble. He slowly put the pen in his pocket and reached for his phone. “Hello?” he croaked, his voice barely audible. The mechanical voice answered, “Hello, Mr. Voss. It’s good to see you working on the documents. We expect to see progress very soon. Congratulations on today’s board meeting, you achieved the required result, we’re on track. However, I understand that we have a problem?” The man went silent. Only Kevin’s deep rapid breathing was audible.

  “No, no problem. Oh God please no, I had no choice. Pleaaassssse,” Kevin stammered on the verge of tears. He was fucked.

  “Look out the window behind you,” the man ordered. He swiveled his chair around, overlooking the city. Suddenly, a human body flashed past his window.

  “Jesus Christ, what was that?” he screamed out, dashing toward the window. The man spoke calmly as if nothing had happened. “That was Mr. Bill Parsons, unfortunately he just committed suicide. No more problem. You continue to focus on the task at hand. Goodbye.”

  He stood rooted to the spot, engulfed in a deep state of shock, gawking in disbelief. He kept the phone pressed to his ear even though the line went dead. The cold metallic case of the mobile phone tapping against his temple, hand shaking violently. Bill was a good man, he didn’t deserve this. He breathlessly sprinted toward Bill’s office, directly above his, one floor up. He took the staircase, leaping over three to four steps at a time. Nearing the office, he heard Bill’s secretary weeping. Dorothy was kneeling in front of the open window, her hands in her face. She was a small, elegant lady with frizzled grey hair, and she had been Bill’s secretary for the last thirty years. He bent down and hugged her tightly.

  “I don’t understand how he could do this. He was telling me about the birth of his grandchild this morning and he just sounded so happy,” she wailed, tears streaming down her face.

  “Dorothy, did you see or hear anything?” he asked gently.

  “I just heard him scream out, probably as he jumped. I ran into the office immediately after that and he was gone.”

  She continued to sob inconsolably.

  He heard the wailing sirens of the emergency services arriving at the building. He left Dorothy on the floor and quickly dashed back to his office. He gathered the documents and shoved them into his drawer. He placed the pen in his saddle-brown briefcase and sprinted for the exit. He wanted to avoid any questioning relating to Bill’s death. A murder and a suicide in quick succession, where he was the only common denominator, would surely raise the authority’s suspicions. The last thing he needed was a new enemy.

  13

  The Visitor

  Kevin poured himself a cup of coffee and switched on the kitchen TV. He felt sickened after yesterday’s events. These people were out of control, this was the second murder they had committed in U.S. territory. They were capable of anything. He listened in carefully as the financial news anchor started the morning’s broadcast.

  “Good morning, America. Tragic news at Intelias. Bill Parsons, their longest-serving board member, leapt to his death yesterday. Police found traces of cocaine and anti-depressants in Bill’s office. His family, friends, and colleagues have been left in complete shock and deny that he was battling any personal issues. The investigation remains open for any further possible reasons for Bill’s suicide. Despite the tragedy, Intelias’s share price continues to rise like a comet with a five percent gain this morning. The Intelias CEO John Lukach issued a statement to the public today by first offering condolences to the family of the late Bill Parsons. Surprisingly, he went on to reveal that Intelias is launching its own cryptocurrency this fall. After months of speculation regarding the phantom price movement, analysts can finally confirm that the price action was justified. The project is to be headed by their legendary CTO Kevin Voss. Shareholders and the markets have reacted favorably, further sparking demand for their stock.”

  His throat tightened, choked by rapid pounding heartbeats, adrenaline hormones pumping through his system. The project was public news, there was no t
urning back. His own life was permanently altered but soon enough the financial markets and possibly the world would be as well. He needed to start working on the backup plan. He was pleased that he’d managed to retrieve images of the documents undetected. If all hell broke loose, he had a possible way out. The pen was his only leverage.

  His phone rang, the caller ID was from the office.

  “Good morning, Kevin. John would like to see you in his office as soon as possible,” Meghan said politely. He gulped the coffee, grabbed his briefcase, and raced to Intelias.

  He didn’t bother to stop by his office, directly heading to see John. Entering the classy office, he noticed a pot-bellied bald man seated opposite John.

  “Thank you for joining us so quickly, especially after what happened yesterday. Really horrific what happened with Bill. I can’t believe it. At the board meeting he’d launched such a vehement argument and looked so energized, there was no indication that he was battling any demons. Poor bugger, I’m sad to see him go.” John paused and sighed deeply, on the verge of tears. Kevin noticed that he was clearly very distressed. His eyes were puffy, and his face flushed. He wasn’t so sure that it was Bill’s death alone that disturbed him. John was a narcissist by nature, so this overly emotional reaction was out of character for him. John continued, “It’s a difficult situation, but what can I tell you, the show must go on. We dropped the bomb this morning. I’m sure you saw it on the news and so far so good. On that note, I believe you’ve already met Mr. Nishikawa from Japan.”

  The burly man stood up and turned toward Kevin, outstretching his beefy palm. Kevin recognized him instantly, the chubby, cherubic face, royal eyelashes revealing intimidating dark brown eyes. This time, in stark contrast, he was dressed in sharp dark navy suit with brown brogue shoes. His potbelly stretched his white twill shirt to the limits. It seemed like the buttons were going to burst at any moment and reveal the hidden waves of flabby flesh.