The Russian Crisis

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hungry. It was getting late in the morning and Jackson realized that he hadn't eaten much over the past few days. Little wonder. He made his way out of the JPI building and turned toward a small eatery that he recalled from his CEO days. He could beat the lunch rush.

As he walked along the sidewalk, Jackson kept an eye on windows that allowed him to see behind him. 'Yep,' the two men were still on his tail. They were total amateurs, he thought. Who would assign characters like this to follow a man with decades of experience in remaining alert to everything around him?

It was easier to keep track of known stalkers than to re-acquire new ones, so Jackson gave the men no reason to think he knew of their presence. Easy to do with this bunch.

He did, however, ask himself, 'Who are they? Do they belong to the thief or to someone he was trying to sell the code to?' Jackson dismissed other players. A competitor wouldn't follow the retired CEO, nor would police or one of the security services that might be concerned with software thefts from tech companies. These outfits were far better than the two men on his coattails. He would find some way of identifying the two behind him - the Middle Eastern types.

Toronto is one of the most diverse cities in the world. There are people from every one of the earth's nations living in the 630 square kilometres covered by the city's spread. More than 225,000 of these people are described as Arab. Not that every person from the middle-east is an Arab, of course, but Jackson thought of these two as 'the Arabs.'

It made Jackson more comfortable to think of the men in this way; he had worked with many Arabs and Arab-Canadians in the past. Most were solid citizens who were, in the majority, intelligent, well-spoken, extremely polite and fun-loving. He counted many among his friends. Thinking of them made him regret his self-imposed exile from the city in past months of retirement. It also gave him an idea.

He made a mental note to contact some of his old friends. Maybe they would like to meet these two, chat them up and find out what the two characters thought they were doing.

After lunch, Jackson returned to JPI and to the PR offices.

"So, what's the plan?" He and Mariah were in the local boardroom with cups of coffee in front of them.

Mariah looked excited. She pushed her iPad across the table to Jackson. The screen contained a list. "The plan, sir..."

An hour later, second cups of coffee cooling on the table, Jackson returned the iPad and leaned back into his chair.

"Not much more I can say. With the tweaks we just made, I think this will do." He smiled and reached for his cup.

Mariah had begun, she explained, with the crisis communications plan Jackson and his team had implemented when he was CEO. She assumed the role as head of a crisis communication team consisting of just two other people, a senior tech manager named Al Stringer and an office manager named Jia Wong. Mariah described Al as a 'genius and a communicator - a rare combination.' To her, Jia Wong was 'the greatest organizer imaginable.'

The team had looked at every conceivable crisis that could erupt at JPI. Their work resulted in chart after chart of the actions that could be taken in each crisis with the expected results of the actions. No example matched the current problem exactly but several scenarios came close enough to make Jackson shudder.

A theft of critical code or software prototypes would affect the company, its several thousand employees, JPI's board, suppliers who entrusted their products to JPI, customers including a large number of armed forces units in a number of countries, and the public.

Jackson let Mariah's work seep into the crevices of his mind as he sipped his coffee. He put down the cup and looked at the young woman who was shutting down the device. "A hell of a lot of depressing stuff, Mariah."

She looked up in alarm. Jackson was smiling. "This is superb work. Thank your team for me."

"Unfortunately," she said sadly, "... we haven't done much for the past few months. Mr. Blax put a stop to this kind of work." Jackson looked at her in dismay.

She grinned. "Oh, the team still plods along. A few BBQs at Al's place. He lives outside the city on a hobby farm. Long talks on lazy afternoons. But only on weekends."

Jackson didn't smile. "Mr. Blax seems disengaged, to say the least."

"Yeah. He's changed a lot since I came here about a year ago. In the beginning, he was great. On board with PR and the crisis audit. But, over the months..." She halted and looked grim.

"I like your ideas to meet this kind of crisis head-on," Jackson told her. "I'll take them up with the board in our meeting tomorrow. See if I can get them approved for instant action and get funding."

Jackson stood with a sudden surge. Mariah hurried to follow him and the two left the boardroom. Without saying goodbye, Jackson turned toward the elevator bank. Maria watched him for a moment before heading back to her office, iPad in hand.