The Blockchain Revolution Read online

  “I don’t know,” he said, trying to squelch the mad spasm of tapping his right foot had just embarked upon.

  “If it’s the compensation, don’t worry. We’ve budgeted five hundred thousand dollars a year for base salary and up to a hundred seventy-five thousand dollars in bonus. On the equity side, we’ve allocated options to buy two hundred thousand shares of First Manhattan stock vesting over three years. By ‘vesting,’ I mean that the longer you stay, the more of those shares you’d be able to purchase at today’s low price per share.”

  Frank’s left foot had now joined the dance. “Well, that sounds great, but –”

  Cronin leaned closer. “Okay, I can see you’re a good negotiator. You’re right, the position might not last three years. How about we say you can exercise all those stock options after just six months?”

  Frank felt the walls closing in around him. “Gee, I don’t know. I live in Washington, DC. That’s too far to commute. And I don’t think I want to move.”

  Cronin frowned. “Okay. So, I guess we could deal with that. Let’s say you work remotely half the time and the other half here. We can provide a suitable place for you to stay when you’re in town.”

  Frank stared back and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  “All right,” Cronin said. “A two-year contract at six hundred thousand dollars a year, plus bonus, plus just six months to get all the stock options vested, and only two days a week here at the bank, but honestly, that’s as far as I can go.” He leaned back and crossed his arms, straining to keep the smile on his face. Who’d have thought the nerd would drive such a tough bargain? “So, what do you say?”

  What should he say? Frank pressed his hands down on his knees, trying to pin his hyperactive feet to the floor. Just the first year’s salary was more than he’d earned in the last five years combined.

  “Well, I –”

  Cronin could see Frank wasn’t there yet. “Okay, I didn’t mean to be pushy. Why don’t you think about it and get back to me in the next day or so?”

  “Sure,” Frank said, eyeing his escape route to the CEO’s office door. “Why don’t I do that.”

  “Good!” Cronin said, standing up and clapping Frank on the back. “Here.” He picked a business card out of a holder on his desk. “This is my direct dial number. Give me a holler any time if you have any questions at all.”

  “Great – thanks.”

  Cronin walked Frank to the door of his office. As if by magic, the receptionist materialized to escort him to the elevators. Before he knew it, Frank was walking up Lexington Avenue in a mental fog. Only after several blocks did he realize the Amtrak station was in the opposite direction.

  * * *

  Audrey Addams found Cronin sitting at his desk, staring out the window.

  “Did he take it?” she said.

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “Dunno. He’s a hard guy to read. Who else do we have on the list?”

  “I’m afraid he’s the last one. If he says no, we’ll have to start the search all over again.”

  “Then this guy Adversego better accept,” Cronin said with the tone of someone not used to being disappointed. “Our stock price still hasn’t fully recovered from that big data breach last summer. I don’t care who we get so long as next time the board has somebody else’s neck to choke instead of mine.”

  He waved Addams out of his office and swiveled back to stare out the window.

  Damn! he thought. I should have offered the geek another twenty-five thousand options.

  Chapter 2

  What Were You Expecting?

  “So, you’ll take it, right?”

  Marla, Frank’s daughter, was pushing him hard.

  “Well, I’m not sure. I don’t know much about blockchain design. And I’d have to travel back and forth to New York City every week.”

  “For six hundred thousand dollars, you can’t take a train or plane a couple times a week? And those options could end up being worth millions.”

  “Sure. But what would I use the money for? I don’t spend everything I make now.”

  He had her there. Other than a faster laptop, Marla couldn’t think of anything her father would want. It certainly wouldn’t be new clothes.

  “Well, you could travel.”

  “To where? I don’t like cities, and it doesn’t cost anything to camp in the backcountry.”

  Marla paused. What could make her dad realize a great opportunity was staring him in the face? “Well,” she said hesitantly, “it would take your mind off Shannon.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, you’ve been kind of mopey ever since she took that position with Boeing in Seattle.”

  “I have not been mopey!” Frank said. “And she did exactly what she should have – that was the dream job she’d always been hoping for. I couldn’t be happier for her!”

  “But you haven’t seen her once since she moved.”

  “We both agreed we weren’t long-distance-relationship types. And I’ve never liked talking on the phone.”

  Time to switch her line of attack, Marla thought. Truly, her father was impossible. Whether he admitted it or not, she thought he was lonely. Plus, he’d been whining that he might never get a good project again. Yet here he was, trying to come up with an excuse not to accept the golden egg laid in his lap. Then, she had a thought.

  “Still there?” her father said.

  “Well … so, I guess you might think about setting up a college fund.”

  Frank’s eyebrows shot up. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you until after my first trimester, but that ends next week. So, yes.”

  Frank had been looking out the window. Now he plopped into a chair. Wow.

  “So, Dad – are you still there?”

  “Yes – you just took me by surprise. But that’s wonderful! Do you know if it’s a girl? No, scratch that. I don’t want to know.”

  Marla smiled. She was looking forward to watching her father play with a grandchild.

  “Anyway,” Frank continued, talking faster. “That’s great! I mean, that’s really tremendous!” Then he frowned. “Are you okay? Is everything going well?”

  “Yes, don’t worry, everything’s great. I like my obstetrician a lot. She says the baby and I are both doing fine. Except I’m gaining a lot of weight.”

  “As you should! That’s normal. Don’t forget, you’re eating for two now!”

  Marla smiled again. Her father had already switched allegiance to a grandchild he’d first learned of only a few seconds before.

  “Anyway,” she said, “I’m glad you know now. I don’t like keeping things from you. And I’ve really wanted to share the news.”

  “I’m delighted you did! This is exciting.”

  “Absolutely.” Marla pursed her lips and then continued. “So, we plan to have at least two or three kids. I can’t imagine how we’re going to put them through college, and maybe grad school besides. If you wanted to help out, it would be a huge load off our minds.”

  Indeed, it would, Frank thought. Marla’s husband, Tim, still hadn’t found his long-term niche in the world. Marla wasn’t making much, either, working for a nonprofit. They had a small apartment and a used car. Things would have to be tight for them after adding a child into the mix.

  That put things in an entirely different light. He made his decision instantly. “I’d love to. I’ll take the job.”

  Marla felt simultaneously guilty, relieved, and concerned. “But only if you really want it!”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I don’t have anything else to do right now except sit around and fret. This should be a really interesting project. I
should grab it even without your news.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely. You’ve just helped me be realistic. Now, why don’t you go lie down for a while? You’re probably tired.”

  Marla grinned and said goodbye. It looked like she’d be enduring a lot of parental fussing over the next six months. Shipping her father off to New York City a few days a week might be as welcome as his help with tuition.

  * * *

  Frank’s alarm went off. He squelched the annoying buzz and woke his phone to see what had washed up on his digital shores overnight. Uh-oh. Rather a lot. Then the phone rang.

  “Hey, Dad – I see you’re famous again!”

  “Not so far as I know. What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you have a Google alert set up for your name?”

  “Of course not. Why on earth would I do that?”

  “So, you’d know it when a big bank issues a press release announcing your appointment as Chief Risk Officer for Blockchain Technologies.”

  Frank groaned. “Really?”

  “Really. Here’s the quote from First Manhattan’s CEO: ‘With the bank’s hire of the world’s foremost expert on cybersecurity –’”

  Frank sat up straight. “What? What did you just say?”

  “Didn’t you see the press release before they issued it?”

  “No!”

  “So, why did you give them a quote for it?”

  “What quote? I didn’t give them any quote for a press release. What does it say?”

  “Let me scroll down … okay, here we go: ‘I’m delighted to join First Manhattan’s world-class cybersecurity team,’ Adversego said, –”

  “I haven’t even met them yet!” Frank said.

  “Hold on, there’s more,” Marla said. “Your quote continues, ‘Together, we’ll personally guarantee that First Manhattan’s customers will be protected against whatever criminals send our way.’”

  “I’d never say that,” Frank protested.

  “That’s probably why they didn’t ask you for a quote.”

  “I’m sure. Look, I gotta go. I want to see what else they put in there.”

  Frank slumped back against the pillow and stared at his phone. It was crammed with new text, voice, and email messages. He opened the first text. It was from a coworker from his Library of Congress days: “So – I once shared a cube wall with ‘The World’s Foremost Expert on Cybersecurity.’ If only I’d known!”

  Frank groaned again. Just five minutes ago, he’d been blissfully unconscious.

  * * *

  “Next, I want to introduce you to your administrative assistant,” Audrey Addams said. Frank had to hustle to keep up as she strode down the hallway on the sixty-fifth floor of First Manhattan’s headquarters.

  As he did, he glanced nervously to one side. Each admin he passed was more attractive and self-assured than the last. He wondered whether appearance outranked ability on the management floor list of qualifications when it came to female employees. That wasn’t a good sign.

  On the other side of the hallway, every office held an executive – almost always male – each expensively dressed in a suit and tie. He didn’t even own a suit. He was wearing the only sports jacket to his name, and the last time his shoes had seen polish was a decade ago, before they left the factory. Frank began to perspire. He’d trade his first week’s salary for an invisibility cloak right now.

  They turned a corner, and Addams approached a drop-dead gorgeous young woman sitting at a workstation. “Margaret, I’d like to introduce you to Frank Adversego. Frank, this is Margaret LaCeroix. She also works with Hank Trammel, a vice president in the credit card group. His office is next to yours.”

  LaCeroix stood up. “Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Adversego. I’m looking forward to working with you.” Frank wished his expression was as confident as hers. He gave her hand a quick shake.

  “Very happy to meet you as well, Ms. LaCeroix.”

  “Oh, please. Call me Margaret.”

  “Yes, well, please call me Frank.”

  “And this is your office,” Addams said, turning around to the glass wall on the other side of the hallway. It was furnished with expensive furniture, a computer, and a large, threatening plant he couldn’t identify. Behind his desk was half of Manhattan and New Jersey beyond.

  “Someone from IT will be by shortly to log you into our systems,” Addams said, turning to leave. “If you need anything, tell Margaret.”

  Frank stared out the window for a minute and then eased himself into his new office chair. He’d never seen one before with electronic adjustment controls. People passing by in the hallway glanced in with mild curiosity. He turned on the computer and gazed at a login screen that required a password he didn’t yet have. Tapping his fingers, he wondered what to do until the IT guy arrived. Margaret looked up from across the hallway and smiled. He gave a lopsided smile back. He was beginning to feel like a goldfish in a bowl surrounded by bored cats.

  After two minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up and crossed the hall.

  “Margaret –”

  “Yes, Mr. Adversego? Oh – I’m sorry – Frank?”

  “Would you point me towards Ms. Addams’s office?”

  “Of course. Go this way and turn left at the end. Her office is right next to Mr. Cronin’s.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  He hurried down the corridor, turned the corner, and brought himself up short outside Addams’s office. She was sitting, erect and brow furrowed, at a desk bare of anything except a telephone, computer screen, keyboard, and mouse. Periodically, her fingers exploded into a flurry of percussive keystrokes.

  Frank bucked up his courage and tapped lightly on the glass wall next to her open door. Addams kept typing.

  He tapped harder, and this time, Addams’ head swiveled toward him, like an owl reacting to the sound of possible prey.

  “Ah, excuse me, Ms. Addams. But do you have a minute?”

  Addams looked at her watch, frowned, and grudgingly conceded she did.

  “Yes, Mr. Adversego?”

  Frank walked in and stood in front of her desk, feeling like a misbehaving student sent to the principal’s office.

  “Look,” he began, “I appreciate the great office. But it doesn’t make sense for me to be up here when the IT department is fifty floors downstairs. Most of what I’ll need to do will involve the people and the equipment down there. So, how about giving me a place to work on the IT floor instead?”

  Addams paused and considered his request. Frank certainly didn’t look the part of an executive, and that offended her sense of propriety. She’d already decided to tell visitors Frank was a second-career intern if she couldn’t avoid passing him in the hallway. Parking him downstairs with the rest of the disheveled IT mob would solve that problem most of the time.

  “Very well. You’ll still need the office up here, but let me see what I can do. I’ll get back to you.”

  Frank found himself staring at Addams’ ear as her head rotated back to the computer position.

  “Great – thanks,” he mumbled. He caught himself backing away and turned around to complete his retreat. Now what? Return to his office and fidget until someone arrived to unlock his computer? He took his time getting a cup of coffee on the way.

  When he returned, Margaret caught his eye. “Oh – Frank. I have Ms. Addams on hold for you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take it here.” She handed him the phone.

  “Hi, Ms. Addams. Frank here.”

  “Someone from the IT department will be there momentarily to show you downstairs.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the quick help.”

  “My pleasure,” she said brightly. For the first time, he detected a positive note in her voice.

  Before his backside
reached his desk chair, Frank saw a portly, middle-aged man with a sparse salt and pepper beard arrive at his office door. In the pocket of his wrinkled shirt was a vinyl protector holding two pens and a mechanical pencil. Frank felt a rush of relief surge through his body. It was one of his own tribe.

  “Frank Adversego?”

  Frank stood up. “That’s right.”

  “Hi. I’m Herb Fishbone, from IT. If you’re ready, I’ll take you downstairs.”

  Frank was more than ready. “Great! Thanks. Maybe you can show me around the department, too?”

  “Sure. Happy to.”

  Frank heaved a sigh of relief as the elevator doors closed behind him, his cruel sentence of executive floor incarceration now largely commuted. They might be paying him a lot but not enough to live in a fishbowl.

  When the doors reopened, it was as if they had been transported to a different building. No expensive carpets or glass walls here. There were almost no interior walls at all. Just a sea of cubicles from side to side and end to end. It felt great to be home again.

  * * *

  Ryan Clancy set the report aside and stared thoughtfully at nothing in particular. So, First Manhattan had hired someone named Frank Adversego to keep an eye on the BankCoin software. The name sounded familiar.

  The special FBI investigations unit Clancy led was barely three months old, created in the wake of a growing number of cryptocurrency thefts. He’d been struggling to put a team together ever since. The technology was brand-new, so talent was scarce. And the private sector was paying triple what the government did. In most cases, the best he could do was establish liaison relationships with cryptocurrency projects and exchanges and hope they’d share what they should. It was not ideal.

  Last week, the Department of the Treasury had made it even less so. BankCoin, they informed him, was now on the list of “critical infrastructure” covered by a standing presidential directive. Would the FBI be willing to coordinate with Treasury in protecting it?

  The FBI would. More specifically, it was willing to add protecting BankCoin to Clancy’s already over-long list of responsibilities. The higher-ups left it to him to decide what that meant in an operational sense, and he was still working that out. Should he invite Adversego in for a chat? Better check the FBI’s records first to see what they had to say.