The President left and she could see the IRS auditors already outside the meeting room waiting for them. Cat was miffed that they had such free reign in the Pentagon but what she didn’t know was that a part of the Pentagon was hosting the temporary Supreme Court and the Judicial Committee of the Senate. A whole wing was vacated for civilian use.
“Miss Wallenstein, thank you for receiving us,” a woman with a managerial aura entered. She, for the lack of a better word, dressed, looked, and yes, smelled “corporate”. Maybe it was a new fragrance by Sephora or Yves Saint Laurent. “I’m Kelly Parish from the IRS and this is my team.”
“Welcome to my humble… borrowed meeting room, I guess,” Cat awkwardly stumbled on her words. Mrs. Parish was imposing and a little intimidating, not to mention the IRS was kind of viewed as the boogieman of every rich person. After the meeting, she had some time to do some soul-searching and figured it was something in Catherine’s subconscious affecting her.
“Thank you. We need your help,” Kelly wasted no time with pleasantries, going straight to the point. “There’s a computer virus in the IRS systems, and it seems to affect every one of our systems, but most of all it corrupts every record related to you or the Wallenstein trust funds and related companies and structures. It has reached a point where we don’t know what they own or what they don’t. The President suggested you can help us sort it out,” She said the last sentence with a lot of skepticism.
That was terrible news. The demon’s influence had destroyed the Wallenstein dynasty trust. Or did it?
“Agatha, can you check with Phillip if they have the audit reports from the trustee? And the records from previous reports? I have my last tax report here with me along with all the documentation.”
“I’m already calling New York,” the lawyer said.
“Kelly, my credit report is also completely FUBAR, if I can borrow a term from the military. I believe the credit bureaus have the same virus.”
“We have contacts with them. I’ll request disclosure of their data on you and we can check it when it arrives.”
William was no tax expert but he placed himself well above the average when it came to navigating the tangled web of legislation and tax codes. Cat sat with the IRS auditors and spent the rest of the day as they poured over her files, the records sent from New York and the IRS databases. The verdict was as expected. While the documents she showed were valid, the IRS had no way to even validate most of them. And when they entered new data in their databases, the demon virus corrupted the new records in seconds.
Her credit score was also completely bullshit. All the negative items on file could easily be disputed if the judicial system wasn’t completely dead. Bogus collections, late payments that were older than seven years (when Catherine was twelve years old) but still tainted her report, accounts she paid in full (and had the receipts to show) were on default and a lot of things that were physically impossible to be on a credit score like bounced checks she couldn’t even have signed.
It was like someone had used her credit report and IRS records as a canvas for abstract digital graffiti. Absolutely nothing made sense.
With the documents Cat provided, the auditors could tell that everything was in order, from her side. They also noticed that the virus reacted more violently to truthful data than gibberish whenever they attempted to fix the damaged records. That gave Kelly’s computer experts an idea to develop a bot that would enter new records in the IRS database and “bait” the cyberweapon. Yes, the virus classification was updated.
Cat had little hope to recover the Wallenstein’s fortune. One good news was that she could write everything off as a loss for tax purposes, meaning she would probably not owe anything next time she filed them.
----------------------------------------
It was almost midnight when they called it a day. The government arranged a hotel room on the same floor as Agatha so the two women left the Pentagon to get some rest. While in the car, Cat ordered some feline products to be delivered to the hotel, like litter and some food for Mr. Mouser. The Pentagon provided a litterbox and cat food for him but it stayed behind.
At the lobby, she was stopped by the hotel security. “Good evening.”
Tired, she almost forgot her manners. The body language of the woman seemed to indicate something was wrong. “Good evening. Is something the matter?”
“Miss Wallenstein, we’ve been informed you have a service cat with you but we must know, is your cat neutered or spayed?”
She rolled her eyes. More bullshit. Cat took a step backward, letting Agatha do her thing. “Ma’am, why are you asking that? I’m her lawyer, by the way.”
“Hotel rules stated that unneutered felines are too aggressive to keep in the premises,” the security agent recited.
Mr. Mouser yawned.
“Based on what?” Agatha pressed. “You’re violating the ADA law and Virginia state laws.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“I’m sorry but the ADA states that we can bar entry to service animals that pose a direct threat to health and safety. Unneutered cats are under this classification.”
While Agatha debated with the security guard, Cat asked her head's guest about Mr. Mouser’s status.
[That’s a very strong opinion. Some vets--]
[I won’t argue.]
Cat did as her guest asked and started live-streaming the hotel argument between the lawyer and security guard. She approached them and joined the conversation.
“You know, I’m not sure if he’s neutered or not. It’s close to midnight and I had a very stressful day. I’m staying for only one night and I assure you that he’s well-trained and behaved. Do you have a certified veterinarian to check him and confirm if he’s neutered or not?”
The security guard was about to answer when she raised one hand and covered an ear with the other. She was unfocused as if she was hearing something on her earpiece.
“Miss Wallenstein, management has denied you entry because you are a person of general bad reputation. We’ll refund your fees.”
She was about to reply when Agatha held her back. “Don’t. I see you’re recording the conversation, that’s enough. Save the video, we’re suing the hotel. Ma’am, is this the final decision of the hotel?”
“Indeed it is, Miss Stewart. I’m sorry.”
They heard people entering the hotel room. Cat turned around to see the same two FBI agents that were with her on the flight from New York to Las Vegas and stayed around. This time, they had their badges out in the open.
“Miss Wallenstein, good evening,” the lead agent said. “We learned of your plight here, and on behalf of the federal government, we wish to apologize. Our choice of hosting services clearly was inadequate. We would like you to come with us. Miss Stewart, you are free to come with us too. We have arranged proper accommodations for both of you. And Mr. Mouser, of course.”
“What, what?” The hotel security guard froze.
“Miss Stewart,” the other agent said, “We are willing to testify if you bring this issue to court. Also,” she faced the security guard, “Tell management the federal government will no longer use the services of your hotel chain and subsidiaries until such a time they properly apologize and compensate Miss Wallenstein to her satisfaction.”
Agatha snorted. Mr. Mouser chuffed in a way that sounded much like a chuckle.
Cat switched cameras to the frontal one. “Well, guys. Seems I won’t have to bivouac in the open tonight. Cya soon.” Before she ended the stream she checked the viewer count. Twelve thousand. She turned around and saw a man coming from the concierge desk and focused the camera on him.
“Miss Wallenstein!” He shouted. “Wait, there’s a misunderstanding!”
“I don’t think so, mister… Well, you’re wearing the hotel uniform but your agent here was very clear and precise in her statement. I’m not welcome on grounds of being a quote-unquote ‘person of general bad reputation. Whatever that means in your rule book.”
“No, there was a misunderstanding! We mistook you for another person,” he hurriedly tried to misdirect.
“I don’t think so, she called me by my name before I even walked ten feet past the door. It seems she knew very well who I was and was expecting me.”
The hotel manager (it was embroidered on his uniform) looked at the security guard, “She acted on her own, without our knowledge. Jessica, you’re fired.”
Cat was shocked. He was that eager to throw the security guard under the bus to salvage a situation and was digging himself even deeper.
“WHAT? You cannot fire me, I work for the security provider! You’re not my boss, Hector! And you clearly told me this hooker wasn’t welcome in the hotel!”
Agatha whistled. “Wait, Mrs. Jessica, did the hotel manager call my client a hooker?”
“Yes. He called her a hooker and a ‘Vegas prostitute’ when he showed me her picture and told me to turn her back at the door.”
The manager raised a fist. The male FBI agent moved forward and interposed himself in front of the man. “I don’t recommend doing that. Sir.”
Catherine squealed excitedly. Cat was thankful the only other person who could hear her was on the other side of the country.
“I... I wouldn’t… no, this is a misunderstanding.”
Miss Wallenstein,” the female agent approached her. “We shouldn’t stay here much longer. We have a safe house for witness accommodations a few miles from here, I got authorization to use it. Please come with us.”
“Sure. We need to get Agatha things in her room,” Cat replied.
Agatha gave Jessica her card, “If you need legal representation, give Rothman & Sullivan a call. We’ll offer you a discount on all our fees, Miss Jessica.”
Cat glanced at her phone. The view count had skyrocketed to almost two hundred thousand, rising every second. “I vouch for their services, they’ve literally saved my life at least once.” then she spoke in a hushed tone near the phone, “This stream is not sponsored. Disclosure, I exclusively use Rothman & Sullivan for accounting, legal, and tax services.”
The male agent returned to his partner's side, “Stay here with Miss Wallenstein, backup is underway. I’ll go upstairs with Miss Stewart to get her things.”
He and the lawyer went to the elevator while the four left behind stayed in awkward silence. When the elevator arrived, a dozen hotel guests that were probably summoned by Cat’s live stream poured into the lobby and approached them, with their phones and cameras pointed at them like weapons of social destruction. The female agent whose name Cat didn’t catch moved to protect her from the approaching crowd. Cat thanked her viewers and ended the stream.
[Not without Agatha vetting it. I don’t want to jeopardize the lawsuit,] Cat sub-vocalized without parting her lips.
Two police cruisers and another two unmarked FBI cars parked in front of the hotel a minute before the media arrived. The circus outside the hotel was armed. Cat stood as calmly as she could manage next to her luggage with Mr. Mouser lounging in her arms.
When Agatha and her escort returned, they went to one of the FBI sedans with the other agents and police keeping the reporters away from them. She heard one of the agents saying she was a witness in one of their cases before the car was on its way to the safehouse.