Woman from Division

Michelle types some commands on the computer and a prompt comes up. She inserts the CD, loads it, and waits for it to work. A few minutes later and she has her answer.

"Your firewall is inadequate and your encryption is a joke," she tells the man standing behind her.

Ian Dales sighs, "How much of my data's vulnerable?" He's involved in taxes, which means his systems have a lot of sensitive information.

"All of it. Luckily, no one's tried to hack in yet," she says, turning to face him. Ian's in his mid-30s with short dark hair, brown eyes, glasses, and the look of an athlete that's started to spend more time sitting than moving.

"Whatever you need to do, you have my permission."

She smiles, "Thank you, Ian. We'll have someone over later today to install the new encryption program."

"You can't do it now?" He sounds a little worried. He glances at the screen.

She smiles apologetically, "I'm late for another appointment, but I think you'll be happy with the way the work turns out." She's really late to meet Tony for lunch, but these days that is something that needs to be scheduled.

"I trust you, Michelle. You and Tony." He says sincerely. Ian's wife, Erica, was one of Michelle's friends from college.

Michelle pauses in the middle of standing, blinking to stop her thoughts. For a moment he almost sounded like someone else.

"I appreciate that, Ian." She says finally, gathering the CD and equipment and placing them in her bag.

"Can't be too careful these days. Did you hear about the terrorist attack that was stopped in Toronto?"

"Terrorist strikes are stopped every day, Ian." She says with some authority.

"Yeah, but this one almost happened...fluke accident that it was prevented," he shakes his head. "The world's a dangerous place. Felt a little safer when I knew that at least one competent person was trying to keep us safe," he gives her a pointed look.

She feels guilty about leaving all over again, turning back to the computer so that he won't see her reaction.

She's silent for a few moments. "Can I use your restroom before I go?"

"Sure, it's right through those doors and to the left."

She takes the smaller bag with her when she leaves. She has to take her temperature, she hopes it's almost at the right point because the lunch date is really less about lunch and more about trying to make a baby.

But where she winds up looks nothing like a bathroom.