Sliding on my gloves and coat, I exit the car and take the path I haven’t walked in decades. Mentally crossing my fingers, I knock on the tottering door, hoping the password hasn’t changed.
The door swings open, and my old friend squints as if she doesn’t believe it’s me. “Hunter?”
“Hey, Jian,” I return.
She smiles, standing to the side. “Get in here, you.”
Jian Wei has known me for longer than I’d like to admit, and it doesn’t show. She looks like she hasn’t aged a bit.
Jian opened this place despite the pushback she received for being a woman owning a small business. She’s been able to remain open for so long because she’s not just a pretty face. She knows her stuff.
Exiting the cold, I look around the dank back hallway of Lucky Dragon Repairs. Most things are the same, except for the paint on the walls.
“What’re you doing here, Mr. Big Shot?” Jian questions, crossing her arms and faking her distaste.
“I need to go downstairs,” I inform her.
Jian crosses her arms. “What for? You run a multibillion-dollar business with all the best technology. What can my humble amenities offer you?”
“I’m looking for some help.”
“Having troubles?” She cocks a brow.
Dipping my head to the side for a moment, I answer, “You could say that.”
She squints but eventually relents. “Alright, but rules still apply. You may be a veteran, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get special treatment.”
“Understood.” I nod my head in agreement.
She leads me to the secret door and says over her shoulder, “We have a full house, so it’s standing room only.”
“Not a problem.”
Admittedly, I was born with a silver spoon, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know hard work. I can stand without crying myself to sleep tonight.
We’re through the first door and approaching the second in no time.
“Hey, Ren,” I say with a jut of my chin.
Ren is Jian’s younger brother, but still older than me. He’s always been her muscle.
“Hunter Reed,” he greets back. “Long time, no see.” He holds his hand out for me, and I take it gladly. “Rules are rules, old friend,” Ren apologizes hollowly, handing me a Faraday bag.
Placing my phone in the bag and sealing it shut, I acknowledge him. “No worries. I get it.”
I’m scanned with a metal detector, which beeps when it goes over my pocket. Showing them what I have in there, they deem me safe to enter.
Jian wasn’t lying when she said it was standing room only. When she first opened The Circuit, it consisted of a couple of Sun Ultra computers and possibly a Dell Dimension. But now, every inch of space is being utilized. She has servers, desktops, towers, and cables everywhere. The room glows with green and blue lighting from all the technology.
It’s every hacker’s wet dream.
“You’ve done great, Jian,” I comment.
“It’s something,” she replies. “To think, this all started as a way to openly share information. And now, it’s a whole network.”
“Really?” The shock in my voice is so clear that my question almost seems insulting.
But Jian doesn’t act offended. Instead, her smile feels sly and prideful. “We have hubs in San Francisco, Houston, and Los Angeles.”
