PORTLAND, Oregon — January 6th, 2010 UTC — Avogadro Inc. today announced it is providing a secure, hosted version of Avogadro Applications with AvoMail for Governments.
The demand for secure, hosted Avogadro Applications with AvoMail came from various country level governments who were spending excessive amounts on IT services, while receiving inferior products and services, said Linda Fletcher, Marketing Manager for Avogadro’s Communication Products Division. Avogadro Secure Applications with AvoMail will reduce IT spending by governments by up to 80%, while providing feature-rich, easy to use communication applications, according to Fletcher.
The hosted platform is being adopted immediately by Germany, Canada, and Taiwan, with other countries to follow.
For more information, please visit AvogadroCorp.com
“Holy shit, did you see this press release?” Mike ran back from the bathroom with his AvoOS smartphone in hand. “We, I mean, Avogadro, that is, I think, ELOPe has…”
“Slow down Mike. What is it?” David asked, holding his hands up. It was two days after the conversation with Linda Fletcher, and David, Mike, and Gene were chaffing in a holding pattern, ineffectually waiting for Gary Mitchell to return from a vacation, from which they suspected he should have returned a week earlier.
“Jeez, Avogadro just put out a press release that we have the first government customers for AvoMail. David, governments using AvoMail,” Mike repeated, practically sputtering. “Do you realize what this means?”
“I think so,” said David with dread. “ELOPe has just expanded its sphere of influence. Now every government official who sends or receives an email via AvoMail will have it filtered, altered, or impersonated by it.”
“This service must be what Linda Fletcher was talking about in the meeting the other day when she rejected our proposal to bring the servers down. She must have known this was in the works.”
“I wonder who really initiated this secure applications platform,” David said, half to himself. “Could it have been Avogadro employees, or was it ELOPe? It certainly is convenient for ELOPe.”
The day after the Avogadro press release of the secure cloud services for governmental organizations, David, Mike and Gene met up again. At Mike’s urging, they met at Extracto coffee in Northeast Portland.
“Why here?” David asked when he arrived. Mike and Gene were already sitting at a table nursing their coffee.
“Best coffee in Portland, bar none. Perhaps best coffee on the entire West Coast,” Mike answered.
Gene nodded his assent.
“See, Gene hasn’t even had it before, and he’s already convinced,” Mike went on. “Get the Flores Island coffee. It’s the one on the left.”
David looked over at the counter, and there were two insulated coffee dispensers next to the chromed bulk of the industrial espresso machine. Walking over, he read the labels. The dispenser on the left was labeled “Flores Island” and contained descriptive text so flowery that David thought he was reading a wine review. “Subtle hints of carmel, chocolate, and cannabis?” David read out loud. “For real?” he called out doubtfully to Mike.
Mike just nodded and smiled.
So David got a cup. Out of the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but notice the disapproving stares from the other two as he loaded up his coffee with sugar and milk. He sighed.
On the way back to the table he noticed a large bag at Mike’s feet. “What’s in the bag?” he asked.
“Ten pounds of the Flores Island beans. It’s only harvested and roasted once a year, and once it’s gone, it’s gone,” Mike explained.
David sat down. “Did you make us meet here just for the coffee? We’re eight miles from the campus!”
“We’re only two miles from your house, and yes, we came here just for the coffee. You won’t have another experience like it.”
“We need to focus on ELOPe,” David said in frustration.
“Okay, okay,” Mike said, as he and Gene chuckled in amusement.
They got down to business.
“You guys remember Pete Wong, the engineer from Internal IT who wrote the email-to-web bridge?” Mike saw nods. “Well, I heard back from Pete.” Mike paused. “I have bad news, more bad news, and worse news.”
“Well, give us the bad news first,” David said with resignation.
“Pete started scanning computer systems at Avogadro looking for the digital fingerprint of ELOPe, as we had asked him to.” Mike paused for a sip of coffee. “He found it on every server he looked at in the Communication Products server pool, even ones it shouldn’t have been on.”
David groaned, and then asked, “And the more bad news?”
“Pete also looked for the digital fingerprint of his email-to-web bridge on the same servers. It was also present on every server. Pete guessed that the email-to-web code had been incorporated directly into ELOPe.”
“How is that possible?” Gene asked.
“The contractors,” Mike and David answered simultaneously, looking at each other.
Mike went on, “The contractors that were hired over the holidays made changes, and we don’t know what those changes were. At first we thought they were just performance improvements, but now it seems that ELOPe changed its own functionality as well.”
They all mused over that for a few minutes.
“What’s the worse news?” David asked, remembering how Mike had started the conversation.
“I went to Pete’s office yesterday afternoon to get an update from him, since we didn’t want to use email or the phone. I gave him my home address in case he had anything urgent for me. Then last night he showed up at my door just after I had eaten dinner. He had been fired.”
“What?” Gene barked, almost slamming down his coffee cup.
“Yup, he says he was in his office, working late, looking for more signs of server infection, when suddenly his network access was cut off. Just a couple of minutes later, Security showed up at his office, and told him he was fired. He wanted to talk to his manager, but the Security guards wouldn’t do anything other than let him pack a box of personal belongings, and then they escorted him off campus. So he came straight to my place, figuring it was all related.”
“We’ve got to do something,” David finally said, shaking his head. “Waiting for Gary is not an option anymore.”
The question facing them, as it had for days, focused not just on who had the authority to shut down the servers, but on who would believe their story and the limited evidence they had. After exploring various options, they came back to the same person, Sean Leonov.
“We’ve got to get an appointment with Sean,” Mike said. “Sean brought you on board to lead the ELOPe project, so you have credibility with him. I know we’re jumping several levels in the management hierarchy, but this has to be done. We’ve exhausted all of our other options, and we’re in a race against the growing influence of this thing.”
David hung his head. He knew Mike was right, but he couldn’t get over the fact once again that this would likely be the end of his career. “Alright, let’s do it. Let’s go together.”
Since they all lived relatively nearby, they carpooled together. David drove them in his old BMW. From the Fremont bridge, they took the Avogadro exit that led directly into the Avogadro underground parking garage. From there, they made their way to the executive building. Together, they trooped down the hallways winding their way to Sean Leonov’s office, with all the solemnness of a funeral procession. The executive offices were located close together in the uppermost floor of Building 7B on campus. As David looked around, he thought the executive floor seemed practically abandoned. Virtually one closed office after another.
They finally found themselves outside Sean’s door. They knocked, but there was no response. David tried the knob on a whim, and found it locked. “Now what? There’s no one around here.”
“Sean is traveling,” said a woman walking by. Her tailored suit suggested she was one of the VPs. “I’m Marissa. His admin, Rosie, will have his contact information. Just contact her.”
“Where could we find his admin?”
“She works from home when Sean is traveling. Just send her an email. Rosie Fendell at AvogadroCorp dot com. She’ll be in the directory as well,” Marissa said helpfully.
“Is there any way we could contact her by phone?” David asked. “We, uh, can’t send an email. It’s too sensitive.”
“Sorry, email is your best bet. Good luck.” Marissa turned and left.
They watched Marissa leave, then David broke the silence. “Just send an email,” he said sarcastically. “Sure. That’s so simple.”
“Well, one email can’t hurt, right?” Mike said optimistically, and clapped him on the back. “Let’s make it as simple as possible. We just need to meet Sean.”
They made their way to David’s office, and David sat down in front of his desk computer. While the others watched over his shoulder, David carefully crafted an email to Sean’s administrative assistant, making it sound innocuous. They all read the email and approved it before David sent it.
Gene went down the hall to get coffee for everyone, while they waited for a reply from Rosie. When he got back, Gene distributed the cups all around, while David opened up his desk drawer to pull out his stash of sweeteners. He put them on the table, but he was the only one who took one.
“I’m sure I’ve never been so much on the edge of my seat about an email before.” Mike joked nervously after David had gone through the ritual of preparing his coffee.
“No kidding,” David responded, as he sipped his coffee.
Gene sat and drank quietly from his mug.
“Maybe you’re right,” David offered, looking at Mike.
“I’m sure I am,” Mike answered, smiling, “But about what?”
“About the coffee. I always thought the coffee here was good, but it does seem bland compared to that Flores Island stuff from Extracto we had this morning.”
Mike sat back and smiled, a huge grin spreading across his face. “I don’t want to say I told you so…”
Suddenly they heard a sharp knock at the door. They practically jumped out of their seats. “Alright, guys, let’s calm down,” David said. “Whatever it is, it’s in the computer. It might be real good at faking emails, but it can’t hurt us for real.”
David went over and opened the door. “Yes, can I help you?”
Outside the door was a dark haired woman in a suit, with four uniformed security guards behind her in the hallway. “Mr. Ryan?” said the woman.
“Yes, that’s me,” David replied, a sinking feeling in his gut.
“Are Mr. Williams and Mr. Keyes in there with you?”
“Yes, we’re all here.” David opened the door wider.
“I’m Carly French, Director of Security. We’ve been contacted by several individuals that you’ve been harassing them. I’m afraid I’m going to have to escort you off the Avogadro campus immediately, pending a full investigation.”
David, Mike, and Gene all looked at each other. David’s assertion a minute ago that the computer couldn’t affect them in real life seemed to be falling apart before their eyes.
“Ms. French, I’m Gene Keyes, in the Controls and Compliance Group,” Gene said, standing up, and walking over to shake Ms. French’s hand. “I’ve been conducting an internal investigation into possible financial fraud and other inappropriate behavior that occurred just before the end of the year. Mr. Ryan and Mr. Williams have been assisting me. We have reason to believe that Avogadro employees are being manipulated through email. It’s called social engineering. The emails provide just enough information to seem legitimate. May I ask, were you informed by email of our so-called harassment?”
“Yes, I was informed by email. I’m well aware of what social engineering is. In any scenario where we have such serious allegations, of course I would confirm them directly with the individuals. In this case, I spoke to your manager, Mr. Keyes. Is Brett Grove your manager?”
“Yes, he is, and he could confirm what I’m working on.”
“What he confirmed in our phone call was that you’ve been belligerent to him, acting strangely, and that you would probably blame whatever happened on ghosts in the computer.” She shook her head sadly. “Look, I’m very sorry gentlemen. You all seem like nice folks, and I’d like to be able to just take your word for it. But the standard operating procedure in cases like this is that I escort you off campus and remove your access privileges as a precautionary measure, until a full investigation can be completed. If the facts don’t check out, you’ll have a full apology from me and my manager, and be back on campus in no time at all. Now, please let’s go without a lot of drama.”
Without any options that they could see, they allowed the security guards to escort them to the garage. Since they had carpooled in, they climbed back into the car again, and as David drove, the security guards walked alongside until the car exited the garage. Gene, sitting in the back seat, turned to see the security guards lined up across the entrance. For once Mike had no jokes to break the silence.
Arriving home with Mike and Gene in tow, David entered the silent house. Christine was at work. David went into the kitchen, grabbed some beers for everyone, and passed them around. They needed something to take the edge off their unnerving experience with Security.
David tried to call Christine on his phone, only to discover that his phone was dead. Looking at the inert plastic and metal lump in his hand, he thought about his phone. His phone was running Avogadro’s AvoOS operating system and used Avogadro’s internet data plan. It was totally dependent on Avogadro, and at the same time, Avogadro’s servers were totally aware of his phone. Where it was. What data it was sending. Whom he talked to. “My phone is dead,” he told the others in mixed surprise and relief.
“Same here,” said Gene, looking at his.
“Me too,” reported Mike, after checking his own phone. “It’s not surprising really given that it was all running through Avogadro. In fact, maybe we should be glad, otherwise ELOPe would have been monitoring our phone conversations.”
“Shit…” started David. He continued to fiddle with the phone, then slammed it down on the counter. “You know, it’s not just using the phone. It’s the data on there. I had Sean’s home address in my address book, from a BBQ I was invited to, back when I was hired. We could have gone straight to his house. Now I can’t even get a boot screen.”
“Doesn’t matter, he was traveling, right?” Mike said.
“Look, let’s just go to his house. I remember it was in the West Hills. It’s not that big of an area. If we drive around long enough, we can find it, and maybe he’s there. Or someone is there who knows where he is.”
“We got nothing to lose, boys. I don’t mind the beer, but I do want to get to the bottom of this,” rumbled Gene.
“Let me drive, and you navi-guess.” Mike offered.
David nodded, tossing his keys to Mike, and they took off again.
Two hours of exploration later, which included winding roads, switch-backs, and driving in circles in Portland’s West Hills, they finally came upon Sean’s house. In the one stroke of luck they had experienced since this all started, they found someone just coming out of the house as Mike parked the car.
David walked up to the youthful woman. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Sean Leonov. Is he home?”
The woman looked a little startled at being approached on the street. “No, he’s not home right now. Can I take a message?”
David pulled out his Avogadro ID badge, which thankfully had not been confiscated by security. “I’m a coworker of Sean’s at Avogadro. We have a major emergency on a project, and we urgently need to talk to Sean.”
“I’m a friend. I’m house sitting while Sean is away. He’s in Brooklyn, visiting his family.”
“Do you have any contact information for Sean?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m really not supposed to give any information out. Sean was adamant about that. Don’t you have his contact information at Avogadro?”
“Yes, of course. It’s just…” David stalled, not sure of what to say.
“It’s just that time is of the essence,” Mike put in, “and the matter is so sensitive that we can’t contact him by phone. Or email.” He paused, then added, “We have to talk to him in person.” Mike frowned at himself. It did all sound a little odd, even coming out of his own mouth.
At this, she started to look a little suspiciously at them, and started to back away. “I’m sorry, if it really is urgent and an official Avogadro matter, I know they have his contact information there. Please contact his office, they’ll know what to do.”
Still keeping her eyes on the group, she walked back into the house. “Goodbye,” she called from the door.
“Shit, that wasn’t very productive.” Mike complained when they got back into the car.
“The hell it wasn’t. We know he is in Brooklyn,” Gene growled.
“What good does that do?” Mike asked, focused on the road.
“Brooklyn has the largest immigrant population of Russians outside of Russia. If Sean went to Brooklyn, he’s almost certainly in the Brighton Beach neighborhood. He’s probably visiting his Russian parents. The Russian community is very tight-nit. On the ground, we could find them in no time.”
Mike and David turned to stare at Gene.
“What? I was a private detective before I joined Avogadro. I can find people. The old fashioned way. Without computers.”
“Let’s go to New York,” David concluded.