“Well, we’re talking about two different things here,” Carver said. “Plant security and data security. Let’s talk about the facility first.”
Carver covered a lot of the ground Chavez had already covered but Rachel didn’t interrupt him. Eventually, he homed in on the data center and offered some new information.
“This room is completely impregnable. First off, all the walls, floor and ceiling are two-foot-thick cast concrete with double rebar and rubber membrane to protect it from water sources. These windows are level-eight glass laminates that are impact resistant and ballistic proof. You could hit it with both barrels of a shotgun and you’d probably only hurt yourself with the ricochet. And this door is the only means of entry and exit and is controlled by biometric hand scan.”
He pointed to the device next to the glass door.
“Access to the server room is limited to server engineers and key personnel only. The biometric scanner unlocks the door after reading and confirming three distinct hand groups: palm print, vein pattern and hand geometry. It also checks for a pulse. So nobody can get away with chopping my hand off and using it to get into the server farm.”
Carver smiled but Rachel and I didn’t join in.
“What about if there’s an emergency?” I asked. “Could people be stuck in there?”
“No, of course not. From the inside you simply push a release button that opens the lock and then slide open the door. The system is designed to keep intruders out, not keep people in.”
He looked at me to see if I understood. I nodded.
Carver leaned back and pointed to the three digital temperature gauges located above the main window on the server room.
“We keep the farm cooled to sixty-two degrees and have plenty of redundant power as well as a backup cooling system. As far as fire protection goes, we employ a three-stage protection scheme. We have a standard VESDA system with a—”
“Vesda?” I asked.
“Very Early Smoke Detection Alarm, which relies on laser-based smoke detectors. In the event of a fire the VESDA will activate a series of alarms followed by the waterless fire-suppression system.”
Carver pointed to a row of red pressure tanks lined on the back wall.
“There you see our CO2 tanks, which are part of this system. If there is a fire, carbon dioxide floods the room, extinguishing fire without harming any of the electronics or the client data.”
“What about people?” I asked.
Carver leaned back again so he could see around Rachel to look at me.
“Very good question, Mr. McEvoy. The three-stage alarm allows sixty seconds for any personnel in the server room to escape. Additionally, our server room protocol requires anyone entering the server room to carry a respirator on their person as a WCS redundancy.”
From the pocket of his lab coat he withdrew a breathing mask similar to the two hanging in the case by the door.
“WCS?” I asked.
“Worst-Case Scenario,” Rachel said.
Carver put the mask back in his pocket.
“Let’s see, what else can I tell you? We custom-build our own server racks in a shop attached to the equipment room down here in the bunker. We have multiple servers and attendant electronics in stock and we can hit the ground running to provide for all our clients’ needs. We can replace any piece of equipment on the farm within an hour of malfunction. What you are looking at here is a reliable and secure national network infrastructure. Does either of you have any questions about this aspect of our facility?”
I had nothing because I was pretty much at sea on the technology. But Rachel nodded like she understood everything that had been said.
“So again, it’s about people,” she said. “No matter how well you build the mousetrap, it always comes down to the people who operate it.”
Carver brought his hand to his chin and nodded. He was looking out into the server room but I could see his face reflected in the thick glass.
“Why don’t we step into my office so we can discuss that aspect of our operation.”
We followed him around the workstations to his office. Along the way I looked down into the cardboard box that was on the chair of the empty station. It looked like it was mostly full of personal belongings. Magazines, a William Gibson novel, a box of American Spirit cigarettes, a Star Trek coffee mug full of pens, pencils and disposable lighters. I also saw a variety of flash drives, a set of keys and an iPod.
Carver held the door to his office and then closed it after we entered. We took the two seats in front of the glass table he used as a desk. He had a twenty-inch computer screen on a pivoting arm, which he pushed out of the way so he could see us. There was a second, smaller screen beneath the glass of his desk. On it was a video image of the server room. I noticed that Mizzou had just entered the farm and was walking down one of the aisles created by the rows of server towers.
“Where are you staying?” Carver asked as he moved behind his worktable.
“The Mesa Verde,” I said.
“Nice place. They have a great brunch on Sundays.”
Carver sat down.
“Now, then, you want to talk about people,” he said, looking directly at Rachel.
“Yes, we do. We appreciate the tour of the facility but, frankly, that’s not why we are here. Everything that you and Ms. Chavez have shown us is on your website. We really came to get a feel for the people we would work with and entrust our data to. We’re disappointed we were unable to meet Declan McGinnis and, frankly, a little put off by it. We haven’t received a credible explanation for why he stood us up.”
Carver raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Yolanda is not at liberty to discuss personnel matters.”
“Well, I hope you can understand our position,” Rachel said. “We came to establish a relationship and the man who was supposed to be here is not here.”
“Completely understandable,” Carver said. “But as a director of the company I can assure you that Declan’s situation in no way affects our operation here. He simply took a few days off.”
“Well, that is troubling, because that’s the third different explanation we’ve gotten. It doesn’t leave us with a good impression.”
Carver nodded and exhaled heavily.
“If I could tell you more I would,” he said. “But you have to realize that what we sell here is confidentiality and security. And that starts with our own personnel. If that explanation is not acceptable, then we might not be the firm you are looking for.”
He had drawn a line. Rachel capitulated.
“Very well, Mr. Carver. Then tell us about the people who work for you. The information we would store in this facility is of a highly sensitive nature. How do you ensure the integrity of the facility? I look at your two—what are they called, server engineers? I look at them and I have to say they look to me like the type of people you are protecting this facility from.”
Carver smiled broadly and nodded.
“To be honest, Rachel—can I call you Rachel?”
“That’s my name.”
“To be honest, when Declan is here and I know a prospective client is coming in on tour, I usually send those two out back for a smoke break. But the reality of this facility and the reality of the world is that those young men are the best and the brightest when it comes to this work. I’m being straight with you. Yes, there is no doubt that some of our employees have done their share of hacking and mischief before coming to work here. And that’s because sometimes it takes a sly fox to catch a sly fox or at least to know how he thinks. But every employee here is thoroughly vetted for criminal records and tendencies, as well as the content of their character and psychological makeup.