“Call me Phil,” he said as they walked to the technology room.
Once he unlocked the door and let Frank in he was amazed at how large it was. It had four sections to it. There was a very dark corner section that looked like it had ancient artifacts of the I.T. industry in it. One section seemed to store supplies like printer toner cartridges, spare computers, monitors, and other ready for use equipment. Another section was where Phil obviously did administrative work and then there was an entire other room. It was a special room.
As a part of the special room there was a locked door and a glass window to allow viewing. This small room housed the server rack that had the network servers, network router, and switches. He pointed out that it had its own air conditioner, as well as the whole room used solar panels on the roof for power, and it could work on twelve hours of an uninterrupted power supply in case of black outs.
As they walked into the front door and made their way to the meeting room Frank smelled something interesting. He thought it was Marijuana. He noticed at the front desk a beautiful girl was sitting and talking on her cell phone. She was chewing gum, coloring her nails, and stapling all while talking. He also noticed that there were student art works in display cases that were in front of the business offices close to the front desk. Some of them were paper-mâché masks, which frequently resembled hideous monsters. One of them looked like Satan and had an upside down pentagram on its forehead as well as the Satanic Bible leaning against the mask.
Frank was a little unsettled to say the least. While no one was looking he brought his watch closer to the glass display case, and re-positioned his wrist as if stretching it. This pushed the camera button on the watch and thus notified Tony to remotely snap some pictures.
Wednesday morning came with another phone call. Frank looked at his caller id and it said Bureau on it. He answered, “Hello?”
An overly courteous effeminate voice said, “Gulliver Webster here, I’m calling to speak with Frank Nickels.”
The voice continued, “I’m with the BIA in this local area. Tomorrow at noon I’d like to have lunch with you to discuss the position you now have. Do you know where Harry Wang’s is? It’s within walking distance to the school.”
Frank’s cleanly shaved brown face humorously frowned because he thought he was hearing things, but he replied anyway, “No I can’t say that I do.”
“I’ll email you the directions. I look forward to meeting you. See you tomorrow,” Gulliver abruptly hung up leaving Frank holding his phone and almost responding with a parting word.
Interview day came and Frank found himself in the lobby of a very nice hotel waiting for Mr. Lark. Fifteen minutes passes in a black leather lounge chair, then a tall distinguished older gentleman wearing glasses and a dark blue business suite exited one of the elevators to his right and walked toward Frank. Frank connects his brown eyes to the gentleman’s blue eyes then stands up.
“Mr. Frank Nickels I presume?” he asked as he offered his hand.
“Yes that’s me. And you must be Mr. Lark?,” Frank said with a firm grip and shake.
“Yes, its nice to meet you. Here’s a brief rundown of the situation. There is an all Native American Boarding School in River City. You may have seen or heard of it, Herman Indian High School.” Frank politely nodded no. Mr. Lark continued on, “Well, the problem is that there are over 300 Windows 7 workstations, approximately 150 users, 400 students, and only one I.T. Support personnel. It’s simply too much work for one person. The systems are all antiquated and in dire need of maintenance and eventually a complete upgrade to Windows 10 along with Office 365. What you will be doing is assisting the I.T. person there with all of the extra work. How does that sound?”