The Term Sheet | Wattys 2016 Winner

Chapter 24

"I already know Cryptobit wasn't designed that way," said Shawn. "If it had been, we wouldn't be here right now, would we?"

Shawn stood over David as he summoned all the gravitas that years of practice had taught him. He hadn't run an interrogation since training camp in the late 70s, but Shawn knew what he needed to do. Brandon was ready to play the bad cop if needed. And it was clearly needed. Terrifying twenty-somethings wasn't fun, but David wasn't cooperating and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he needed.

He used all the old tricks he knew. Like making David sit in a chair that had its legs cut a foot shorter than normal, which left David significantly lower to the ground than a typical chair would. This made Shawn's already tall figure appear to tower over David's. He also had made sure that one leg was a tiny bit shorter than the rest to make the chair feel unsteady.

"I don't know what you expect me to do," said David. "If I can't help, then why am I here?"

"Oh, but you can help." Brandon grinned a grin as wide as a Cheshire cat's. He was taking his new role very seriously. "And you will help. It's a matter of national security. We just need you to rewrite your code. We need it to become tappable. That's why you are here."

"I wouldn't do that even if I could," said David as he tried to fix his posture. "It would break the trust of my users and sabotage the entire business. But let's say, for the sake of argument, that you forced me to do it anyway. Even if I did change the code, there's no guarantee that everyone would upgrade. If whoever you are after doesn't upgrade his copy of Cryptobit, it wouldn't make any difference. The only surefire way to do what you're asking is to insert the back door manually by breaking into his computer or forcing him to upgrade. I haven't written any auto-upgrade code yet, so there is no way to force an upgrade."

Brandon approached David with as much of an intimidating posture as a fellow lanky geeky guy could muster.

"Why can't we just tap your servers then?" said Brandon. He was proud of this question—it was one of a few questions that his techie friends had armed him with.

"None of the messages go through our servers. It's completely decentralized."

"Look, David," said Shawn in a sudden change of tone, softer and more agreeable. "I want to help you. I really do. I'll be the first to admit that I don't know much about computers. That's why I brought my friend Brandon here. But what I do know is that where there's a will, there's a way. I don't want to be a bully. I just want to catch a bad guy who is doing some really bad things right now. You are not a bad guy. You have a good heart. But you are putting us in a difficult situation. I understand your company is important to you. I get that. I feel for you. I wouldn't want to compromise my business if I were you either. But we're talking about life and death, David. Don't you want to save lives?"

"Of course I want to save lives, I'm not a monster. But that's a straw man argument. Look, if I could help you catch this guy, I would. Of course I would. But destroying someone's business—my livelihood—simply because you have a hunch that maybe someone might be using it for less than legal purposes is a massive overstepping of government power. From what you've told me so far, you don't have any proof that this so-called terrorist has done anything other than sign up for my waiting list. You don't even know for certain whether I've even invited him to use the service."

"Can you tell us that then?" asked Brandon.

David ignored him and kept talking: "And yet you want me to compromise the security of everyone else right now based on your hunch? And if you happen to find someone on Cryptobit admitting to having cheated on their taxes, will I now be liable for having aided and abetted tax fraud? Or if the government doesn't lock me up, will the users of Cryptobit end up suing me for misrepresenting their privacy? All because of your hunch?"

Shawn's face went into a deep frown as he continued. "David, if you don't help me, I can't help you. If you want to save lives, you will cooperate with us. If not, for whatever crazy ideals you think are important, so be it. But don't think you are protecting yourself or your business by not cooperating. Your business is fucked whether or not you cooperate. One way is just going to be easier on you than the other. If you don't help me, I'll freeze your assets and shut down your servers so fast that your head will spin. Then I'll freeze the assets of the people you love, starting with Megan. Imagine what your girlfriend will think when she goes to pay for a jug of milk at the supermarket with a long line of people behind her and the attendant says: 'Sorry lady, your card's been declined.' Then I'll freeze your sister's assets. Let's see how long they keep taking care of her at that home of hers when the checks start bouncing. Imagine what kind of reputation you'd have with all your precious users if your servers went away. I don't want these bad things to happen to you, but I need your help."

"There won't be a reputation to protect if I do what you are suggesting."

"I don't think you are understanding us," said Brandon, eager to chime in. "Your reputation is already over with. It's dead. It is like Night of the Living Dead dead. Your reputation is a zombie and you just don't realize it. Let's just put it out of its misery now."

Shawn stared at Brandon, trying desperately to get him to shut up, but he continued completely unaware.

"If I were a zombie," said Brandon, "it would be pretty terrifying to be compelled beyond reason to eat other people's brains. I mean think about it, wouldn't that suck to be a zombie? Imagine how scary and gross it would be. Wouldn't you prefer to be shot in the head and have it just be done with? I know I would. That's what we're offering you here. It's a good deal. I would take it if I were you."

Brandon smiled, pleased with his analogy, not noticing the puzzled look on Shawn's face.

"Let's go over this one more time," said Shawn. "We just need you to write a little piece of code that allows us to back door our way into one guy's machine. It shouldn't be that hard..."