The early-morning air is crisp and cool, and I shiver a little on the sidewalk. A host of questions runs through my mind, but I don’t have answers for any of them.

Why does Tom even want to talk to me now? What could I do to help him? How the hell am I going to get into the building?

“Ms. Haas.” I look up. It’s Barbara. For once she doesn’t have a clipboard. I think about making a joke about not recognizing her without it, and decide against it. “Please follow me.”

“Barbara, I—” She’s already walked off in front of me, down the street. Hurrying to catch up, I try to continue talking “I don’t know how I’m going to get in; Security took my access card for the main doors when I left.”

Three feet in front of me, she sniffs, loud enough for me to hear. “We’re not going to the main doors, Ms. Haas.” I follow her around the building, into an alleyway. She beckons impatiently. “Hurry, please. We don’t have much time before morning security arrives.”

There’s a small door with MAINTENANCE printed on it, and she walks up to that. Feeling in her purse, she produces a set of keys, and unlocks it.

“Am I supposed to be here, if I’m not an employee?” I frown at the door, and Barbara turns to me, regarding me severely.

“No, you most definitely are not. It is strictly forbidden for non-employees to access the building without signing in. That is why you are not accessing the building.” She brandishes the keys. “I do not have these keys, and this maintenance door definitely does have a functioning security camera.”

I nod, slowly, and decide not to say anything. The door swings open and Barbara points into the darkness. “Go down the corridor as far as you can, then turn right. You will come to a freight elevator, which will go all the way up to the twelfth floor. I dare say someone will meet you there.” She turns to walk away, then looks back at me. “One more thing, Ms. Haas.”

“Yes?” I really don’t know what to say to her at this point.

“I do not under any circumstances condone violating company rules. However, there are times when someone acts under the guidance of a higher moral authority. I believe your resignation to be one of those times.”

“Thank you, Barbara.” She sniffs.

“Don’t thank me. Dr. Macaulay believes your presence on the floor this morning to be vital to the continued future of this firm. If that means we must adopt,” she inhales deeply “a broader-picture view of compliance to company rules, then so be it.”

I try not to smile. “Very well.” She gestures again, impatiently.”

“Hurry up, Ms. Haas. You mustn’t keep Dr. Macaulay waiting.”

* * *

The corridor is narrow and dark, and I seriously doubt anyone’s done any maintenance here for a very long time. I get to the end, and press the button to call the elevator, fumbling in the gloom. In the distance, I hear the maintenance door slam shut behind me.

Well, I’m in for it now. Resigned from a company, then illegally accessing their building the very next day. Really grown up and responsible, Ronnie. Nice one.

The elevator doors are the old mechanical sort, and I force them open with some difficulty and get inside. There’s no light, and I have to use my phone’s screen to see the buttons. There’s one labeled ‘12’, but I have no idea where the hell on the twelfth floor it comes out; I’ve been all over that floor and never seen a freight elevator.

The elevator lurches into motion, and I hold onto my bag, trying not to feel like I’m ascending into some trial out of a video game. It crunches to a halt, and the number ‘12’ lights up above my head. I peer through the little window in the door, but everything is black.

Taking hold of the door, I pull it open, and am greeted by—a wall of boxes reaching up to the ceiling. Great.

Just as I’m staring into the boxes wondering what the hell to do now, there’s a scrabbling noise. One of the middle boxes shifts about, then slides out and is replaced by Tom’s face, lit by the glow from his phone. Inexplicably, he smiles.

“Ah, Ronnie. I’m glad you could make it.”

I try not to scream what the hell is going on? and look sideways at him. “Well, yeah. I didn’t have any plans today, anyway.”

“Hold on, let me clear some more of these boxes.” He pulls a few more out, creating a big enough hole for me to fit through. Reaching in, he holds out a hand. “Take my hand. We don’t have much time, and we need to have both of us on the floor.”

This time, I can’t resist. “Tom, what the hell is going on? I understand you don’t want to see me any more, but I honestly have no idea what I’m doing here, or even where I am.” He holds out his hand again, but, angry, I refuse to take it.

His face softens. “Ronnie, I’ll explain, I promise. Right now, I need your help.”

“Tom, I—”

“Ronnie, please. You’re the only one who can help me.”

I grab hold of his hand, warm and strong, and for a moment just being able to touch him is a relief. He helps me through the boxes, and waves his phone around. From its dim light, I can tell we’re in a storeroom.

“This room, it turns out, is actually a maintenance room, but some time ago the freight elevator was shut down, and these boxes were just piled up in front of it. Turns out nobody really knows it’s here. Come on.”

Opening the door, I suddenly realize where we are; in a small corridor off the main foyer. Tom grins at me. “Neat, huh?”

“Tom, how did you know this was here? It’s not like I see you wandering around looking at floor-plans most of the day.”

“Well, not really, no. Turns out that if you want to get someone into this building without authorization, it’s nearly impossible. In fact, the only person who knows how to do it is Barbara.”

I look at him goggle-eyed. “You mean this was her idea?”

“Not exactly. I approached her last night and asked hypothetically how I would get a certain former trainee into the building if it were essential for the firm’s survival, and it turned out she had a perfect solution. She didn’t even really need that much convincing, oddly enough. I think she has a soft spot for you.”

This is just getting weirder and weirder. “I, uh, yeah. So, tell me again what I’m doing here?”

Tom takes hold of my hand. “I’ll explain on the floor. Come on, we don’t have much time.”

* * *

Down on the trading floor, everything is quiet. Rows of computers lie dormant, waiting for people to come and wake them up, and for the day’s business to start. In front of me Tom strides in, flipping power switches as he goes.

“Right.” He turns to me. “Grab that whiteboard, and power up those computers. We’ve got work to do.”

“Tom, what are you talking about? I’m not even supposed to be here. Walters Capital is doomed, and it’s my fault.”

He holds up a finger. “Maybe not.” Pulling two chairs over in front of the computer screens, he indicates that I should sit down, and I slump into one of the chairs.

He stands in front of me, and kneels down, putting his hands on my knees. “In the short time I have known you, Ronnie Haas, you have taught me a lot of things. You’ve taught me that there’s more to my life than financial games. You’ve taught me that sticking to your principles can be painful—” I smile, ruefully, and he continues, “—but that sometimes, maybe, it’s not as foolish as I thought. And,” he turns back to the trading floor, “in your wisdom, you have pointed the way to how we can get out of this damn situation.”

This is pointless. What am I doing here? “Tom, how could we possibly get out of this situation now? Everyone in the whole world knows what’s going to happen in an hour’s time. The market in Singapore is going to open, and the first wave of investors are going to sell as fast as they can.”

I put my hands out, pleading. “Then, the market will drop as a result, and this will trigger a chain reaction across the rest of the world as each market opens, placing Walters Capital further and further in the red. By the time New York opens, the firm will either have had to sell at a massive loss, or be wiped out. Everyone is watching, and they have an opportunity to make virtually free money at our expense.”

Tom nods enthusiastically and turns to face the whiteboard. “Correct.”

I stand up, my frustration boiling over. “Why the bloody hell are you so happy? How can we possibly change things now everyone knows what we’re going to do?”

Tom turns back, and this time his eyes glitter like the downfall of angels. “Exactly.”