Post by Susanna Gossamer on Apr 15, 2009 10:28:51 GMT -5
Thank goodness for her foresight to bring a change of clothes with her. Back at the Police Department after Bruce's party, Susie knew she would be completely uncomfortable in the heels and revealing dress she had worn earlier that evening. Much better was the jeans and tee she was wearing now, her shirt depicting a smiley face with exed out eyes which was one of her favorite tees and by now well worn. She sipped on the tall cup of coffee she had made herself while she waited for the flash drive the killer had left on the roof to finish processing, so she could actually see what mind be inside.
Finally, when the sun was rising back over the Gotham horizon, it was returned to her. She was grateful. The busier she kept, the less she thought about Brewsky and how she had failed him by letting him come to harm in the first place. Besides, this was kind of a revenge mission now. Though she hadn't been particularly fond of Brewsky - dead or alive, the kid was an idiot - but two cops had now been killed in as many weeks and she suspected, no, she knew there was a connection. She was hoping this thumb drive would give her a clue why.
She removed the drive from the evidence bag carefully, waiting for her computer to boot up properly before inserting the drive into the USB port. The offices were still fairly empty, with just the skeleton overnight crew milling about and a few of the officers who had been at the party processing their paperwork on the night, but she didn't close her door. She figured when it comes to investigating cop killers, there are no secrets, and no head detectives. For this case, she had an open door policy.
For a moment it seemed as if the flash drive did nothing at all, and housed no files, for the screen didn't respond at all. But then after a moment a DOS prompt flashed up for half a second, and then disappeared, and then the whole screen went black. Her eyebrows furrowed, but before she became really worried words began to materialize on the screen, on top of a black background with a faint question mark outlined in lime green. She blinked at the words carefully.
A detective is at the bottom of a well 30 feet deep. He crawls up 3 feet each day, but at night, he slips down 2 feet. How long does it take for the detective to crawl out the well?
A cursor blinked at her tauntingly, and Susie quickly did the math in her head. Obviously, it moved up one foot a day. So, it would take thirty days for it to reach the top. Shrugging at the apparent simplicity of the question, she typed in 30 and moved the mouse over the submit button.
INCORRECT
She frowned. Eventually an explanation came up letter by letter, as if it was being typed real time.
Once the detective reaches the top, he no longer falls back two feet. It would take him 28 days to reach the top.
Oh.
She hated riddles.
Her brows furrowed deeper as more text appeared.
Now that detective will never reach the top.
It was as if someone had let a single drop of ice cold water trickle down her spine. She felt the hairs rising on her neck for no apparent reason. This was stupid, she told herself. And then her monitor went blank.
Wha?? She tapped at a few keys to try to get it to recover. Damn it, she cursed silently, reaching to turn off the computer and turn it back on. It did so, powering down and back up again. On her monitor a cursor blinked. Just as if the hard drive had been wiped.
"Oh no..." She groaned, immediately realizing what had happened. "No no no," he added, praying to whatever God still listened to her (she didn't keep up with religion much, suffice to say), that the virus was localized. She rushed to Mary-Lou's desk and powered up the machine. It appeared to go through the normal boot up process and then a black screen appeared with a lime green question mark. A moment later, the monitor blacked out.
Someone in the next room cursed and banged their mouse on their desk, asking the empty room, "What's this??"
Groaning and cursing the God that hadn't helped her, whichever one it was, Susie ran out her open door and threw her hands up towards the many people who were now making their way through the area to their respective desks or offices.
"DON'T TURN ON YOUR COMPUTERS!"
This question mark person, whoever they were, had just unleashed a virus into the Gotham Police Department network. And she had helped.
Finally, when the sun was rising back over the Gotham horizon, it was returned to her. She was grateful. The busier she kept, the less she thought about Brewsky and how she had failed him by letting him come to harm in the first place. Besides, this was kind of a revenge mission now. Though she hadn't been particularly fond of Brewsky - dead or alive, the kid was an idiot - but two cops had now been killed in as many weeks and she suspected, no, she knew there was a connection. She was hoping this thumb drive would give her a clue why.
She removed the drive from the evidence bag carefully, waiting for her computer to boot up properly before inserting the drive into the USB port. The offices were still fairly empty, with just the skeleton overnight crew milling about and a few of the officers who had been at the party processing their paperwork on the night, but she didn't close her door. She figured when it comes to investigating cop killers, there are no secrets, and no head detectives. For this case, she had an open door policy.
For a moment it seemed as if the flash drive did nothing at all, and housed no files, for the screen didn't respond at all. But then after a moment a DOS prompt flashed up for half a second, and then disappeared, and then the whole screen went black. Her eyebrows furrowed, but before she became really worried words began to materialize on the screen, on top of a black background with a faint question mark outlined in lime green. She blinked at the words carefully.
A detective is at the bottom of a well 30 feet deep. He crawls up 3 feet each day, but at night, he slips down 2 feet. How long does it take for the detective to crawl out the well?
A cursor blinked at her tauntingly, and Susie quickly did the math in her head. Obviously, it moved up one foot a day. So, it would take thirty days for it to reach the top. Shrugging at the apparent simplicity of the question, she typed in 30 and moved the mouse over the submit button.
INCORRECT
She frowned. Eventually an explanation came up letter by letter, as if it was being typed real time.
Once the detective reaches the top, he no longer falls back two feet. It would take him 28 days to reach the top.
Oh.
She hated riddles.
Her brows furrowed deeper as more text appeared.
Now that detective will never reach the top.
It was as if someone had let a single drop of ice cold water trickle down her spine. She felt the hairs rising on her neck for no apparent reason. This was stupid, she told herself. And then her monitor went blank.
Wha?? She tapped at a few keys to try to get it to recover. Damn it, she cursed silently, reaching to turn off the computer and turn it back on. It did so, powering down and back up again. On her monitor a cursor blinked. Just as if the hard drive had been wiped.
"Oh no..." She groaned, immediately realizing what had happened. "No no no," he added, praying to whatever God still listened to her (she didn't keep up with religion much, suffice to say), that the virus was localized. She rushed to Mary-Lou's desk and powered up the machine. It appeared to go through the normal boot up process and then a black screen appeared with a lime green question mark. A moment later, the monitor blacked out.
Someone in the next room cursed and banged their mouse on their desk, asking the empty room, "What's this??"
Groaning and cursing the God that hadn't helped her, whichever one it was, Susie ran out her open door and threw her hands up towards the many people who were now making their way through the area to their respective desks or offices.
"DON'T TURN ON YOUR COMPUTERS!"
This question mark person, whoever they were, had just unleashed a virus into the Gotham Police Department network. And she had helped.
