Eye Of The Storm - DK3 (60 page)

bangs that almost obscured her eyes. “What?”

Kerry came around the desk and perched on one end, folding her hands in her lap. “We went for a walk after dinner and ran into some real creeps.”

“I thought I told you to stay out of trouble?” Dar straightened and put her hands on her hips.

“Walking in the FDR memorial isn’t getting into trouble, Dar,” the blonde woman shot back. “Besides, we’re both grown ups, last time I checked.” She paused. “I seem to recall one of us is your mother, as a matter of fact.”

Dar sat down and rested her hands on the flat surface, staring at Kerry’s laptop screen without really seeing it. “Funny,” she commented quietly, adjusting the computer with a small, precise motion. “She and my father were always ‘us.’” She took a breath. “Something I was never a part of.” She blinked at the screen and moved the mouse pointer, as a silence fell.

Kerry opened her mouth, then shut it. Then she held both hands up.

“Whoa.” She realized she’d just tripped and fallen into a huge bowl full of hard feelings and didn’t much like the sensation. “Can we just rewind sixty seconds and redo that last minute?”

Dar looked up at her with a painfully vulnerable expression. “Okay,”

she agreed. “Sorry. I was just worried about you.”

Kerry slid off the desk and knelt, resting a hand on Dar’s knee to steady herself. “And I did promise to stay out of trouble, you’re right. I just didn’t think twice about taking a walk in a strange city at night and I should have.”

Dar merely nodded, tiny tensions moving through her face.

“Dar, does it bother you that I like your mother?” Kerry asked gently, holding a finger up at the startled reaction. “No, no. Level with me, okay? No BS between us. Does it bother you?”

Her lover lowered her head into her hands and stared at the tabletop.

Her eyes closed.

Kerry waited uneasily.

“I thought I had a handle on this,” Dar finally murmured. “And then it comes around the corner and kicks me in the ass.”

“Dar,” Kerry moved a little closer, “just because there are things I like about your mother, doesn’t mean I think what she did to you was right or that she doesn’t owe you some understanding and explanations and apologies.”

“I don’t think she owes me anything,” Dar interrupted.

“Bullshit, Dar. Of course she does.” Kerry put a hand on her arm, using touch to reinforce her words. “You are her child and she abandoned you at a horrible time in your life. A parent can’t just throw...” her words slowed, “throw a child away.” She took a breath. “Look at me talking, the expert here.”

That got through to Dar and she turned her head, her eyes warming and gentling. “Families are hell sometimes, aren’t they?” She covered 330
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Kerry’s hand with her own.

The green eyes searched hers. “You are my family,” she whispered, blinking back the tears.

Just because you’re dysfunctional, don’t let that ruin something she needs,
Dar
, a warning voice spoke softly in her mind. “My parents are your family too, Kerry.” She lifted the hand on her arm and kissed the fingers.

“And I’m very, very happy about that.”

Kerry rested her forehead against Dar’s shoulder. “Thank you for understanding me needing that right now.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, I wasn’t ready for this.”

Me either.
“Tell you what.” Dar nudged her. “Let’s take this thing over to the couch and put our heads together over it.”

Dar carried the laptop and Kerry brought over the snacks, and they settled on the couch in a tangle of arms and legs and cables, with chips and coffee milkshakes and enough combined brain cells to jump start a supertanker.

Kerry lay back against Dar’s chest, pecking at the keyboard as the arms curled around her shifted and a long finger moved the mouse button. “Okay.” She crunched on a chip. “Who are we going to yell at first?”

Dar rested her chin on Kerry’s shoulder, letting her tension dissolve as she felt the shift of Kerry’s breathing under her arms. “Mmm.” She clipped the cell phone to the adapter that routed it through the laptop’s speakers and dialed. A harried voice answered. “This is Dar Roberts.”

Hesitation. “Oh, good evening, ma’am. What can I do for you? It’s been a long time.”

Dar smiled. “I’m in Washington,” she burred, in a low, dangerous voice.

“Ah.”

“And I’m out of cash.”

“Oh.”

Dar mentally filled in the expletive after that and felt Kerry giggle silently under her hands.

“Uh, ma’am. They’re working on that.”

“Define they.”

“Uh…”

“Define working.”

“Um. Wouldn’t you like to talk to my supervisor?”

“Does he want to talk to me.”

“Um, probably not, no, ma’am.”

Dar laughed silently. “Nice to know I haven’t lost my touch,” she whispered into Kerry’s ear. “All right. Have they found the problem, yet?”

“Um, no.”

“Okay. What company is it?”

“That’s the problem, ma’am. It’s a big, shared facility, and they can’t figure out whose master switch it is. Everyone’s blaming everyone else.”

Kerry was busy typing and she reviewed the network. “Can we…oh,
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damn. That’s one of your new sites, never mind.” She tapped on. “Damn, we don’t have a reroute around that.”

“Okay.” Dar flipped open her palm pilot and found a number. “I’ll start at the top. One ATT CEO coming right up. Call you back, Netops.”

“Ooo.” Kerry scooped up some salsa. “He’s gonna be pissed.”

“Nah,” Dar disagreed, dialing a number. “He lives in Maryland and they get paid twice monthly just like we do.”

Kerry stopped in mid crunch. “Oh boy.” She picked up the television remote, clicked it on, muted the sound, and switched to a news station.

“Uh oh.”

“Hello, Alan? Dar Roberts.” Dar glanced at the screen. The news anchor was gazing seriously at the camera, as a violent scene rolled behind him. Fuzzily focused bodies were clustered around a building wall, kicking and throwing things at it. The caption “ATM Terror”

splashed across the screen. “We’ve got a problem, Alan. Either you solve it, or I’m gonna start calling people until we’ve got the most expensive conference call in the history of internetworking going.”

Kerry watched the screen, her eyes wide.

CECILIA TOWELED HER short, silvered blonde hair dry and stepped back into the room, aware of a stupid smile on her face caused by the sight of the man standing in only a pair of silk boxers at the window, evaluating the surrounding terrain.

Despite his violent protests to the contrary, she’d discovered her husband had developed a fondness for the soft underwear, and she’d had an enormously good time visiting Macy’s and buying him several different kinds.

No wild colors, though. Some things never changed. She walked over and slid an arm around him, leaning against his bulk and reviewing the scene outside. It was a misty day, gray and overcast, and a soft rain fell. “Nice.”

“Li’l rain never hurt nobody,” Andrew answered absently. “Guess I better go get me some coffee. See that stand down there?” He pointed.

“Honey, I ordered some,” Ceci objected. “You’re not going to go romping outside in your skivvies, are you?” She looked up and saw the expected scowl. “Let me go wake the girls up.” She patted him on the butt and walked to the connecting door, then eased it open, and knocked lightly on the inside surface. She heard voices inside, so she pushed the door open and poked her head around it. “Good mo—” She stopped, startled by the appearance of the two women crouched over a laptop computer on the desk, with a large coffee pot nearby. Dar was on the phone with someone, speaking sharply, and Kerry was pecking at the keyboard, her head propped on one hand and a harried, exhausted look on her face.

“Did you two get to sleep at all?”

Green eyes glanced over. “No.”

“What on earth are you doing?” Ceci kept her voice down, in defer-332
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ence to Dar’s hoarse tantrum.

“Saving the Western world.” Kerry tapped in a few other things then shook her head. “Dar, we can’t route this that way. It’s not going to work.”

Dar covered the receiver and glared at the laptop. “Fine. Then we’ll pull it.” She snapped in exasperation, going back to the phone. “All right, that’s it, I’ve had it.” Her voice rose to a savage growl. “I’m gonna have someone walk into CLIPC and take a wire cutter to the whole damn patch panel.” A desperate voice murmured through the receiver. “Look. We’re outta time,” Dar broke in. “It’s not my fault you guys decided to try an Y2K upgrade on a running system with no back up.” She picked up her cell phone with the other hand, ignoring both Kerry and Ceci, who had edged into the room and seated herself on the bed, watching her daughter in wary fascination.

“What happened?” Ceci whispered to Kerry, who was cradling her head in both hands.

Kerry turned around in her chair and rested her elbows on her knees.

“Our national carrier decided to put a patch into place last night and it trashed a major switching office.” She sighed. “Affecting most of the Eastern Seaboard, and, for some bizarre reason, Dallas, Texas.”

“Mmm.” Ceci nodded. “What exactly does that mean in English?”

Kerry pointed towards the television, which was on CNN. A reporter was mumbling in the mostly muted newscast, showing pictures of angry people surrounding banks.

Ceci peered at them, then shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, most people nowadays when they go to get money, don’t get it from a bank.” Kerry sighed. “They get it from an ATM machine, and they have their paychecks automatically deposited, right?”

“Okay, yes, I see.”

“Well, what happens when money can’t move into the bank, and people can’t get it out of the ATM machines?”

Ceci stared at the screen, then at Kerry. “Is that what happened?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “From Boston to Miami, no one’s getting paid electronically or getting cash from a machine.”

“Good grief,” the older woman blurted. “And that’s what you two are sitting here trying to fix?”

“Yep.” Kerry looked exhausted. “And I’ve got that breakfast to go to, then more grilling. It’s not going to be a good day.”

“All right. Mark, get to the punch down room,” Dar said into the phone. “Tell everyone to get the hell out of your way, or I’m going to be flying down there to personally kick their asses.”

Kerry winced.

“You there? Good. Take the following circuits and hot patch them.”

Dar read off a list of numbers and letters. “Put them in the high speed ports H1, H2, H3 and H4 on one big pipe, and H3 and H4 on the other.”

She took the keyboard and rapidly switched to a configuration program.

“All right, hang on.” Dar typed furiously, slamming the enter key in frus-Eye of the Storm 333

tration as she got to the end of each line. “This better work or…”

“Easy.” Kerry rubbed her knee under the desk. “Look there, wait, Dar, that’s the wrong—”

“I see it.” Dar closed her eyes briefly, then reopened them and corrected her error. She reset the port she’d just finished, then flipped over to Kerry’s monitoring program. “C’mon…c’mon, you little b—son of a bitch.”

“Dar, that’s the wrong speed.” Kerry took the keyboard from her and started typing, brushing the taller woman’s hands away. “Yell at Mark some more while I do this.”

Ceci watched as Dar’s face twitched in annoyance, but was unable to react as angrily as she obviously wanted to. “Mark, are you done yet?”

She growled into the phone. “Now?” A pause. “Now?” Another pause.

“Kerry, go.”

“Okay.” Kerry finished and wrote the configuration changes, then reset the device. She counted silently under her breath up to twenty, then reconnected to it. “Done…done…wahoo.” She exhaled in utter relief.

“Passing packets on those ports, Dar.”

“I see it.” Dar had been watching the monitoring tool in the background and now she flipped it to the foreground and watched the shifting charts, which pumped in comforting shades of green and blue.

“Jesus.” She leaned against the phone. “Good work, Mark. Thanks for flying up so early.” The MIS chief had spent the evening scouring their local resources and trying to help Dar find a way to resolve the problem without breaching their extensive contracts with the companies involved in the crisis.

No luck. So Dar had asked him to go personally to the switching center, where he’d been consulting with the switch programmers since six a.m.

No luck. The Y2K patch had made such a mess of the firmware, even Mark’s and Dar’s combined programming talents had been unable to make head or tail of it, leaving the executive with a sparse list of options.

Stay down or breach their contract, and remove the services from their vendor. “I’d better call Hamilton Baird and let him know to expect some screaming.” She sighed, referring to ILS’s legal chief. “And he loves me so much as it is.”

“Dar, you had no choice.” Kerry yawned, putting her head down on one arm. “Doesn’t he live in Boston?”

“Mmm.” Dar tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Yeah, he only sounds like he lives in Louisiana.”

Ceci kept quiet, assuming the green things and Dar’s obvious relief, were a good thing. She glanced up at the television, where talking heads were analyzing the problem, one that looked vaguely familiar. “Isn’t that your boss?”

Dar looked up. Sure enough, a very serious looking Alastair was front and center, freshly scrubbed and very concerned. “They dug him out of bed early.” She increased the volume. “Not the kind of publicity he 334
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wanted today, I bet.”

“Mr. McLean, can you give us some idea of what is going on?”

Alastair cleared his throat. “Simply speaking? There was an attempt made to make a piece of equipment year 2000 compatible and that attempt resulted in the equipment failing.”

“Your equipment, sir? Are you saying this is something ILS did?”

The reporter leaned forward.

“No.” Alastair shook his head gravely. “This was done at the national carrier level, although we were made aware of the fact that it was in process.” He shifted. “They’ve been working throughout the night to correct the problem, but it’s very complex.”