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A bulldog behind a desk wearing horn-rimmed glasses. Even though he could feel the wind off of Paul’s swear words whip against his face, Vince couldn’t take his eyes off that damn painting. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that his boss had such a silly painting behind his desk, but more the fact that the dog didn’t look anything like Paul.
He wondered if his boss had ever noticed that this painting that he had probably paid an obscene amount of money to have commissioned of him bore no resemblance to him. While Paul did have the same heavy-set build and blunted nose that matched a bulldog’s features, the painting showed a mutt that was stumpy, with a wide face and sagging jowls, in stark contrast to the man’s sharply chiseled jawline and long forehead.
Although Paul Volek loved his self-assigned nickname–the Bulldog–due to his reputation as a fierce litigator, his face was built more like a bird or perhaps more accurately a ferret. Volek walked into every room with his chest puffed out, as if he was trying to intimidate others with his stature. No one had ever tried to dissuade him of that notion, mainly due to his fiery temper that was prone to flare whenever anyone spoke out of turn. Although he was only five feet eight inches, his smaller frame could produce bellowing screams like those currently directed at Vincent.
“Did you hear a goddamn word I said Wong?” Paul finally said at the end of a deep breath.
“Yes sir,” Vince lied with a meek, humble tone.
“Then get the hell out of my sight.” Volek said as he turned his chair over to his computer screen.
As quietly as he could, Wong stood, turned, and swiftly exited the room. Carefully, he shut the glass door with the words “Paul K. Volek – Chief Legal Officer” stenciled on the front. He stole one final glance through the glass walls at Paul, to make sure he wasn’t already calling HR to see how quickly he could fire one of his junior associates, before moving down the hallway towards his desk.
Along the way, he passed several other juniors, all staring intently at their documents or computer screens and doing a very good job of pretending not to notice him. But Vince had been on the other side of these not-at-all soundproof walls, and he’d heard Paul’s screams as clear as if he was next to his ear. Of course, it only took less than a minute after he sat at his own desk before the sharks started circling.
“Whew man, he really laid into you in there eh Wong?”
“Yeah well that’s what happens when you’re a little forgetful-head who forgets that a key third-party defendant will preclude him from filing in county court and would instead require him to file in district court.”
Rob Benson and Charlie Woodcomb. Between them, you’d have two chiseled physiques that looked like they fell out of an Abercrombie catalogue and less IQ points than even the Warriors could score in a single game. He felt Rob’s hand clap down on his shoulder.
“I mean, even first year law students could have done this. Even for someone who graduated from a non T-14 school, you would think that wouldn’t be rocket science.”
The backs of his ears began to heat up as Vince breathed sharply through his nose. When he swung his chair around to respond, he tried to hide the contempt in his voice.
“Well it’s a shame that I wasn’t told that we were going to be including this third-party defendant in our suit. And of course, since I cannot just file a motion to amend our complaint, but must dismiss the complaint in county court before re-filing in district court, I’ll have to be here all night to get the documents drafted before tomorrow’s filing deadline.”
“What,” Benson said with mock shock, “Vincent you don’t think I would intentionally give you the wrong information pertaining to this very important case do you?”
Of course I do, you smug asshole. I think you’ll do anything to try and throw me off my game and under the bus. You know I’m ten times the lawyer you are, so the only way to get that promotion and cushy office I know you want ever so much is to kiss ass and drag everyone else down.
“No,” Vince answered evenly. “I’m sure it was just a mistake. I must have misunderstood you in your e-mail.”
“Well, if I caused any confusion I am profoundly sorry.” Benson bowed before he and Woodcomb turned their backs, snickering lightly.
Vincent turned back to his computer screen, gritting his teeth and swallowing the lump in his throat. For the last two months, ever since the first performance reviews and wave of firings, they’d been subtly undermining him, but this was the first serious salvo they’d thrown at him. He knew that his timeline would need to accelerate.
Tom Larsen took another sip of his coffee, resisting the urge to blanche. No matter what those kids said, he would never get used to the taste of that Keurig shit. He’d tried every flavor they had brought in, each fru-fru, sugary drink worse than the last. He wanted to spit it out, pour the scalding hot liquid over the heads of all of those young, preppy little insects.
God, what happened to the days of just the good old-fashioned coffee pot with just some cream and sugar?
After Benson and Woodcomb departed their pow-wow, Wong turned back around and began typing furiously. Each key he struck heavily and his brow furrowed with concentration. Larsen cocked his head, wondering what was going through that young man’s mind.
Most junior associates left the office at around 7. It was a godsend for many of them to only work ten or eleven hours a day, compared to their friends working at big law firms that basically lived in their offices during their first year out of law school. The general rule of thumb was once the senior attorneys left to wait at least half an hour before even thinking of leaving. Today, the gods smiled on the juniors as the seniors took an early day, leaving at 6 p.m. to make a happy hour before that night’s Phillies game. Even still, at 7:30 Vincent was one of two people remaining in the office.
“I can’t believe you’re still stuck here,” Annabelle said with a frown as she headed towards the door.
“Yeah,” Vince sighed. “Stupid filing deadline and all. Probably gonna be here all night.”
“You sure I can’t use any of my amazing paralegal skills to help you out?” she asked with a mischievous grin.
No need to go down that road again.
“No I don’t want to make you stay late for my sins. Have a good night.”
“Okay,” Annabelle replied with an encouraging look. “See you tomorrow.”
Vincent kept typing until he heard the door close behind her, then slid his chair back and pulled open the side compartment of his bag. He’d finished the filings an hour ago, it really hadn’t been too much of a burden, and in a way he was thankful to Benson and Woodcomb for giving him the excuse to stay late. Now it was time for the real work to begin.
He pulled out his personal laptop and began hooking it up to his station. He booted the Linux system and immediately activated the IP masking and VPN programs so he could work in peace. Even if IT walked in the room and saw him, they would swear that he hadn’t touched the system.
He’d been doing this piecemeal so far, just testing the company’s firewalls and securities, seeing how far he could push without getting caught. But he needed to push further. The fear that kept him from pushing deeper into the system to cause some actual chaos was gone, driven away by anger and resentment towards those two Ivy League douchebags. If he was going to really do this, all the way, a little revenge was the perfect way to start.
It took him less than a minute to break through the firewall and security. Cracking their passwords was all too easy. Even though both of their computers were at their sides as they toasted their fifth drink of the night, Vincent was already inside their systems as if he held the laptops in his hands.
Where to start?
He wanted to go right at Benson, the head of the snake. Unfortunately, he’d need the useless sap later in the game. So instead, he’d knock out his sidekick and cripple him. Isolate him, leave him alone and defenseless. With no allies, Benson would be at his mercy.
With a smile, Wong began to work..
Image via Shutterstock
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@joshetyler
@joshetyler
Ok this could be good, like a tv show that only lasts one season
Ok, I’m hooked
Its like a Suits and Mr. Robot mashup, I dig it.
And some Succession as well.
Buckle up, fucklehead
This is going to be great. Love that it’s taking place in Philly.
Of course Wong is a hacker
A Friday series to replace Flannigans?
I think there is enough traction to bring it back after all these requests. A lot of the traffic is victim to he time of day / day of week posted. I noticed they stopped doing the full dump right before lunch and are staggering things. That has to have an impact on traffic numbers.
Did I miss something or was this canceled?
It’s on his website bookofduda.com, you’re welcome JD
This took a hard left turn once Annabelle left… I’m sold.
Corporate MF warfare on a Friday. Hell yeah
Please let us see the end of this one. I don’t feel like I ask for too much
Awesome to see the Phillies reference in this piece. That team doesn’t get enough respect, even if they lost 24-4, yesterday.
This took a turn