Page 6 of Whistleblower
“I stumbled across some incriminating information about Empress during my first day as Chief of Operations. I reported it to the authorities. Empress terminated me and filed a frivolous lawsuit against me for corporate espionage, which never came to fruition. The company was dissolved and charged on several felony counts.”
“What counts?”
Shielding my face with my hands so Ronnie can’t see my eyes roll, I grumble. “Ronnie, you know what counts. The corporation, along with the founders, were found guilty of conspiracy as well as aiding and abetting. It’s public record.”
It was a highly publicized case. From the moment I reported my findings to the feds, almost a year ago to the day, it was a media shitstorm.
“I know what they were charged with, but between you and I…” He leans in closer and I can almost feel his warm breath against my face. It makes my stomach twist with discomfort. “What did you find?”
What did I find? Evidence that Empress was attempting to start a civil war—which I can’t say. I’m also not allowed to say that, in addition to charges that were broadcasted publicly, they were also charged with the felony of domestic terrorism. I’m buried so deep under NDAs, that if I were to even say the words civil and war in the same sentence, I’d have FBI agents breaking down my door so fast.
“Legally, I can’t say.”
“Come on, Eden. Give me something. Help me help you.” Ronnie leans backward to my great relief. I relish the space between us.
Redd Tech is my final option. It was bad enough I had to beg Ronnie for this interview, but now I have the sneaking suspicion that I don’t actually have the job, and this interview is far more than a formality.
“Help me?”
“I had to pull some serious strings to even make this interview happen. We have concerns. My boss has big concerns.”
“About what?”
“We don’t want to go through what Empress went through. Every company has some skeletons in the closet—”
“Are you dabbling in felonies?”
“Eden, between the IRS and SEC, it doesn’t matter if you’re trying to do everything by the book, you’re bound to accidentally screw up one way or another. All companies get nervous around a—”
He stops himself, with a pained expression, like he just ate something sour. But I know the word that’s on the tip of his tongue.
“Just say it.”
I watch his eyes, but he’s suddenly very interested in his shoes.
“Whistleblower,” he says reluctantly.
We whisper it like it’s a dirty word, because in the corporate business world, it is. When I exposed Empress’s illicit activity, I thought I was doing the right thing—saving lives. Preventing a lot of pandemonium and suffering. And perhaps that’s still the FBI’s narrative, except they’ve buried that narrative from the public in an attempt to “mitigate mass panic.” I believe that was the verbiage they used. What they were really saying is that they didn’t want the public to know that the only thing that kept any major tech or data collection company from exploiting a user’s social security number, home address, bank account information, or personal internet searches was adherence to the law.
So what happens when a company decides to be unlawful?
Scary…isn’t it? That our personal safety is heavily reliant on the ethical behavior of money-driven strangers. Of course, that’s not a tidbit that the CIA, FBI, or DOJ necessarily want to shout through a bullhorn.
So, I told the truth…
Then I was told to shut up.
The entire world thinks I destroyed a beloved company and app because of a little bribery and coercion, when the reality is far grimmer.
“You can’t offer me this job, can you, Ronnie?”
He shakes his head slowly.
“Then why even entertain this interview?” I finally ask.
Using his top teeth, he tugs on his bottom lip. “Because I wanted to see you. To know how you’re doing. You wouldn’t respond to any of my calls or texts. I was worried, I know it’s been a rough year.”
No, you don’t know. It’s been hell.