Jeff Goes HAM on Crypto

The rain hammered against the panoramic windows of Jeff's penthouse office, blurring the gaudy lights of White Plains into an indistinct smear. He missed the smell of pine, the bite of sawdust in the air. This glass and steel cage, filled with the nervous energy of coders and the hollow pronouncements of venture capitalists, felt like a world away from the forests he knew. "Jeff, you got a minute?" A voice cut through the digital din. It was Tony "Fingers" Franchetti, a wiry guy with a shaved head and a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He wore a suit that looked like it had been slept in, and his eyes darted around the room like a trapped rat. Jeff had hired him for "security," though he suspected Fingers' talents leaned more toward the digital kind. "What is it, Tony?" Jeff swiveled in his Herman Miller chair, the leather creaking softly. He needed to talk to Tony about the security breach. Fingers hesitated, glancing at the busy programmers before dropping his voice to a raspy whisper, "We got a problem. Big one. The ledger... it's been tampered with."