Corner

THE CORNER OF DESPERATION AVENUE AND MIRACLE BOULEVARD CHAPTER 1: Becky & Duncan McInnes November 5, 2024 Times were tough, and John and Emma Swindler were drowning in debt. They, the typical family of four, with the “too big of a house”, in the Boston suburbs of Lexington, his and hers matching black Cadillac XTV SUVs, with double your pleasure monthly car payments, a son John Jr. age 13, and a daughter Lucy age 11, who were like money-sucking ATM machines, a country club membership courtesy of a wedding present from Emma’s parents, and an aging widowed mother of John’s, that was out of both money and her health. As an only child it was up to John to help usher his mother through the last chapter of her life. Nightly arguments with Emma about whether to move her mother-in-law in with them kept things more than lively. He had taken up muttering to himself that assets minus liabilities equalled net worth followed by a frowning emoji with elephant ears hanging out of his front pockets. The beginning ... John, a strapping, good-looking fellow, and Emma the blonde, curvaceous, model-like goddess, had met their freshman year at MIT. John was a scholarship-earning, mathematical wizard, while Emma was a Poli-Sci major, with aspirations of entering the political arena, as either an election consultant or a lobbyist. John was from a middle-class family with no social mobility. Emma was a debutante from high society in Boston. On paper, they were the “very odd couple”. He liked Samuel Adams Boston Brick Red beer, while she preferred Caymus or Silver Oaks as her drink of choice. He was a Boston Red Sox fanatic, while she was a constant theater-goer with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. John was a staunch Republican, while she was a left-leaning liberal Democrat. The common thread was sex. Oh god was it good. Even the rabbits were jealous. The early years were pure bliss, long walks along the Charles River, ending in romantic sex picnics in Esplanade Park, became an every weekend dalliance. Four years later... As they made their ways to collect their diplomas, and then a collective celebratory dinner, with both sets of parents at the high end downtown Boston eatery “La Voille”, John decided that prior to dinner, he would propose marriage to Emma with a student-loan financed engagement ring. It wasn’t a rock for sure, more like a pebble, but Emma teared up and enthusiastically accepted his proposal from the love of her life. When they announced their plans at dinner that night, John’s parents hugged each other in an outward display of happiness, while Emma’s parents politely took a sip of wine and grimaced at each other. The beginning ... John was a sought-after post-graduate commodity by several would-be employers. With a skill set that allowed him to think logically, and symbolically, about the abstract or the finite, spatial and quantitative numerical relationships, he could pick any industry or profession he wanted to pursue. “Honey, you are an absolute rockstar!” Emma mused one night, as they decided he should accept a position with State Street Global Advisors with their 4.13 billion dollars of assets under management. Starting salary: $190,000. Emma, named “Love Child” by John, went to work as an election-canvassing coordinator for the Democratic Party of Boston at $20 an hour. After an hour, Emma, to John, “This is the easiest job in the universe.” “Massechusets has voted democrat every year but four since 1928.... If it wasn't for Eisenhower and Reagan, it would be a clean sweep. “I say bring on the babies, Baby,” she whispered in his ear. Rapid fire babies in 48 months from betrothal was a shock to their social freedom and their dwindling savings. Emma quit her work for the donkey party and became a full-time mother of two, president of the Junior League, a daily wine whisperer, and a professional Amazon shopper. She had grown up with a silver spoon and no earthly sense of budgetary constraint. Saks Fifth Avenue and Nordstrom’s “triple points” on purchases were like a status symbol at the country club. John was a young star out of the shoot at State Street, analyzing P&Ls and balance sheets of various start-ups, utilities, defense manufacturers, national and international oil producers, Bitcoin and commodity futures, you name it, he found growth opportunities to plug and play in their index funds. While he was afforded some modest annual pay raises, and a couple of performance bonuses, he watched as their financial condition worsened by the month. He began to think “Past Due” was an advertisement for a pregnancy test. He dreaded opening the mail every night and began to obsess over betting websites and the various lottery games. He found himself staying up until all hours of the night, working on betting strategies that might get the financial anvil of his proverbial back. After all, probabilities and mathematical algorithms were his sweet spot. It was originally sports book betting that seemed the simplest and fastest way to make some cash. He began slowly using a savings account that Emma knew nothing about. He bet on favorite pitchers in baseball, the Celtics in basketball, and the Chiefs in football. He was winning but at a snail's pace. That’s when it hit him. He could master the lottery. “Power Ball and Mega Millions could be beaten”, he repeatedly reminded himself. After weeks of research, he knew there had been a 2 billion dollar winner in Power Ball in 2022, and at the starting Mega Millions jackpot, once claimed and cleared each time, was 20 million dollars. Hell, he didn’t need the whole enchilada, he just needed a piece of the pie. He knew that convenient stores connected to gas stations had produced the most winning tickets and that most winners use odd and even numbers flipped between high and low guesses, and that grouping numbers together was like pissing away any chance of success. He also knew that the day of the week that tickets were purchased had no statistical relevance. And so it began... A few hundred tickets here, and then even more aggressive investments and number of plays... that’s when Emma stumbled across a file folder in his den office at home with a mountain of lottery tickets. “What in the Sam Hell are you, and have you, been doing playing the lottery, John!” she exploded over dinner. I found thousands of dollars of losing tickets in your office. You have a better chance of getting hit by an asteroid than winning, Knucklehead.” And... I thought you said we had to tighten our financial belt. THE CORNER OF DESPERATION AVENUE AND MIRACLE BOULEVARD CHAPTER 2: Carol & Fred Hanley November 11, 2024 A Pickle…. First shouts, then food started flying and dishes hit the walls. Furious gestures of hate and discontent followed the couple into John’s office. “Who buys this shit”? Emma cried throwing lottery tickets at John and everywhere. “Well who the fuck pushed us onto the consumption train that’s burying us in our financial coffin”? Kids and dogs ran for their lives seeking safety in the far reaches of the house. The threats and insults continued with greater intensity for almost an hour, until simple exhaustion and no more new words of displeasure existed to throw. The weight of their problems left the house in horrible shambles. Kids whimpered but eventually fell asleep. An exhausted couple, of what had once appeared to be intelligent, successful, super star adults stumbled upstairs. “What a fucking pickle we’ve got ourselves into. And by the way, don’t even try to touch me!” she sobbed as they carefully slid into separate cold sides of their California custom king bed. An hour of restless fidgeting and no kisses - then a hand brushed her leg. Ever so slowly the feelings rose. With a barely audible apology from John she turned slightly and he lightly kissed her neck. A nipple firmed and he stiffened … Pickle Plan… Unable to sleep, free thoughts started to form in John’s mind to solve their “Pickle”. There has to be a solution. Crypto currency – there seems to be some renewed interest and perhaps de-regulation – Emma’s political connections. How much do we need? Morning meant cooperative cleanup with slightly civil conversation. Apologies to the kids, promises that all will work out well and discovery by the dogs of abundant people food in the dining room, temporarily calmed the household. “Emma, what motivates me and others to bet on sports, the lottery, getting lucky? Oh, but that’s a whole other need. Is it greed, reward, competitive need, or simply positive hope that we seem to want – help me?” asked John. “Ok John, in the middle of the night you kept mumbling the word Crypto – what was that all about?” “Emma, what do you know about Crypto? It seems to be somewhat like gambling on an unsecured, unregulated, ill defined, mysterious financial script. Some of it seems to be promoted to have a relative value to U.S dollars, but it apparently can’t be deposited or controlled by traditional banks. Who, why, and how do they buy this stuff?” Opening the Pickle Jar … “What would happen if we could create a lottery for Crypto? Algorithms of chance can’t be that complicated.” “Could the ‘Pickle Lottery’ be promoted by social media with purchase and winning payments made only in ‘Pickle Crypto’, all done simply by computer?” And the Pickle Juices began to flow…first John then Emma. They were smiling, laughing, shouting out ideas and having more fun than they’d had in a very long time “All of the world’s currencies are tied to the exchange value of the dollar. Could we make a play for both purchase and payment conversion of International Pickle Cripto?” “The PP Holding Company!” “St. Croix – our ‘Peter Piper Bank’ - perhaps with a church affiliation!” Our Pickle…  Eighty percent payout from the ‘Pickle Jar’ of maybe $100,000,000 to $500,000,000 initially; 10% for our administrative ownership; 10% to the Crypto organization – perhaps a government sponsored church…  Minimum investment for one Pickle Cripto ticket - $10,000 or equivalent in other currency  Crypto Pickle payouts from the 80% of the Jar: 40% for one winner of the lottery – the ‘Big Pickle”; 30% to ‘Pickle Slices’ - 20 winners; 20% to ‘Pickle Chips’ - 30 winners; 10% to “Pickle Relish’ – 50 winners.  Three month ticket sales with a drawing at the end of each quarter. Single entity lottery players, individuals or an affiliated group, would be limited to buying, owning or controlling only a total of 5% of the total Jar They toasted with their favorite libations and saw the dollar signs rolling. “Shit – how much are tickets to St. Croix?” THE CORNER OF DESPERATION AVENUE AND MIRACLE BOULEVARD CHAPTER 3: Cathleen & Shawn Pierce November 26, 2024 “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we have a lot of homework and research to do first, Em, we are not ready to pack our bags yet.” John and Emma sat staring at each other for the next few minutes. The giddiness and excitement of finally working together again filling them both with hope. ” There’s got to be a way out of this," Emma said, her voice tight with frustration and determination. John ran his hand through his disheveled hair, pacing back and forth. He could feel the weight of their situation pressing down on him, a constant pressure in his chest. Emma raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over her face. "A crypto lottery? John, are we actually serious serious? ” "I'm serious!" He grabbed his laptop and started typing furiously. "Think about it. Cryptocurrencies are exploding right now. Everyone’s talking about them. And lotteries? They're massive, we just have to combine the two. I don’t know if my spit balling about all the breakdowns are concrete but it’s an idea I really believe has wings.” Emma crossed her arms, still unsure. "You’re talking about gambling with people's money. That's a risky game." "I know, but hear me out. People already gamble with crypto. And lotteries are practically built on the idea of dreams—what if we could create something that lets people win big, with a twist of blockchain?" Emma sat down on the couch, letting the idea simmer for a moment. "It would have to be different, though. It can’t just be some generic lottery. We'd need a good hook—something that would make people trust us, want to play. Let’s back up and throw out the first actual steps, not just all the numbers you’re good at calculating.” John grinned. "Okay. We'd do it transparently, using smart contracts. No middlemen. No shady business. Everything would be out in the open, and players could see exactly how their money is being used." Emma leaned back, thinking. "Okay, but what about the legal side? Crypto is still a gray area in a lot of places." "We'll figure it out. We just need a plan. A website, a coin, some partnerships… we’ll make it happen. We’re already behind the eight ball, Emma. What have we got to lose?" She met his gaze, and for a moment, she saw the spark in his eyes—the same determination that had once made her fall for him. Maybe it was crazy, but maybe crazy was what they needed right now. "Alright," she said, her voice firm. "Let's do it. But if we're going to do this, we're going to do it right. No shortcuts." Over the next few weeks, John and Emma dove headfirst into the world of cryptocurrency. They watched endless YouTube tutorials, read whitepapers until their eyes bled, and attended virtual blockchain seminars. John used his finance skills to create a sleek, user-friendly business outline, while Emma did the legwork—contacting potential developers, legal advisors, and even a few influencers to get the word out. They called their new venture LottaPickles. The idea was simple: people could buy lottery tickets with cryptocurrency, and the winnings would be paid out in crypto. The lottery itself would be transparent—every ticket purchase and prize distribution would be recorded on the blockchain, visible for all to see. No shady dealings or rigged draws. Just pure, verifiable chance. But there were hurdles. They struggled to find a reputable developer who could build the platform they envisioned. After weeks of back-and-forth with a string of flaky coders, they finally stumbled upon a small but experienced team in Estonia who were willing to take a chance on their idea. The team worked tirelessly to build the back-end of the platform, while John and Emma worked on marketing. They started a social media campaign to generate buzz, using Twitter, Reddit, and Instagram to promote the concept. They created a meme-based ad campaign, capitalizing on the viral nature of crypto culture. They even offered a small amount of free crypto to early users to get them hooked. Things were moving, slowly but surely. But despite all their hard work, the launch day was a disaster. The night before the official launch, they were still ironing out the kinks. The smart contract that was supposed to handle the payouts was buggy, the site was down for several hours due to server issues, and there were problems with the payment gateway that allowed users to buy tickets in crypto. John and Emma stayed up all night, trying to fix everything before the clock hit midnight. "Are we sure we want to go live with this?" Emma asked, her face pale from lack of sleep. "What if it crashes? What if people lose money?" "We have no choice," John said, his voice steady despite the nerves running through him. "We've come too far. We have to go for it." Finally, as the clock struck twelve, they launched LottaPickles to the public. For the first few hours, things seemed to be going smoothly. People bought tickets, and the blockchain started recording transactions. John and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was all going to work out. Then, around 3 AM, the first report came in. A user had been trying to buy a ticket, but the transaction didn’t go through. Instead, their wallet was drained of all their funds. Panic set in. THE CORNER OF DESPARATION AVENUE AND MIRACLE BOULEVARD Chapter Four Jim and Mary Montgomery December 2, 2024 Estonia Bordering the Baltic Sea and the Finland Sound, squeezed between Russia and Finland, and having been invaded or occupied multiple times by the Germans, the Russians and even the Swiss, the Estonians have a culture that dislikes and distrusts foreigners. This attitude toward foreigners was further inflamed by the global financial meltdown in 2007 followed by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2023. And winter’s arrival, like invading Russian troops sweeping across the country and driving everyone inside, did not improve anyone’s attitude. Outside of Igor’s office, the sky was a colorless gray and the snow so heavy a thirsty soul would need snowshoes and an Iditarod trained dog to find the nearest bar. The temperature was -17 Celsius. As his space heater strained to chase the cold out of his small, dank basement office, Igor shivered and added another layer of clothing. The office, accessed by a stairwell, had cracked linoleum floors, bare concrete walls, a small window, and a neon ceiling light that was losing the battle to brighten up his office. A talented, University-trained computer scientist; Igor Tamm, PhD was dressed for success in his outdated Canneli sport coat, last year’s Hugo Boss slacks, Cartier belt, open collar Peter Millar shirt, and Proada loafers that were beginning to show more than a bit of wear. In his 30’s he was trim, fit, and clean-shaven – quite the contrast to the dim subterranean office to which he was now relegated. Igor’s dress for success belied his situation and his attitude: he was in denial and had an ax to grind. He had been unceremoniously demoted from his cushy executive vice president position at Inbank to head of IT. Sure, he was happy to be employed but, following the financial meltdown in 2007, Igor lost his officer position, his wife, and his upscale apartment. And in searching for someone or something to blame, he settled on the West, in particular greedy America, and its leading role in building the housing bubble that crashed, spreading economic instability around the world. In his spare time, Igor used his IT prowess to become an avid hobby hacker. He spent countless hours navigating around the dark web to maybe score some weed, sell publicly available “confidential” information, get a free ride on a porn site, or find a backdoor into the computer of a woman he met at his watering hole. Fun stuff but to Igor, a harmless hobby. But, when Igor learned that a buddy Ivan had scored a contract from an American entrepreneur to develop the software platform for an innovative cryptocurrency lottery, he was shocked to learn that the minimum price for a lottery ticket was going for $10,000. This got Igor thinking: Hmmm! I think there’s a pony in there somewhere. Maybe I can find a way to kill two capitalist Americans with one stone? The next day, he invited himself to Ivan Ivanof’s office with the thought that he might be able to pick up enough casual information to enable him to figure out how to hack into Ivan’s crypto lottery software and maybe -- just maybe -- develop an algorithm for skimming some of the crypto funds that were headed for the security of the blockchain. He knew that quantum computers, still in early-stage development and not widely used, could pierce the blockchain encryption. There was just one problem: Igor had no access to a quantum computer –so, he had to develop a better idea. Ivan, in his early twenties with a PhD in computer science from Estonia’s University of Tartu, looked the part. Rail thin with a wispy goatee, greasy, limp brown hair and the obligatory tats and piercings, wore a faded tee with a picture of Putin in a tutu that said, “Putin is a eunuch, and the Ukrainians know it.” Following a warm welcome, Ivan offered Igor either coffee, tea or a joint. He said, “tea would be great, thanks”. After Ivan went to the outer office to arrange for the tea, Igor slipped a thumb drive into Ivan’s desktop computer, looked over his shoulder and began downloading files. Worried he may not have enough time, Igor stepped into the outer office to tell Ivan he had changed his mind - could he have coffee instead of tea? He then stepped back in the office, noted the downloading was complete, removed the thumb drive and slipped it into his pocket. Once back in his office, Igor was busy working with AI to expedite the code for his clandestine software that he would install on Ivan’s proprietary software system. It would be passive – not malicious – software and would provide a harmless, yet quietly effective, backdoor into the computers of crypto lottery investors. Meanwhile, back at the Pickle Lottery … Panic was in full bloom. Before John and Emma could understand what was happening and take corrective action, new investors’ digital wallets were being drained before Pickle recorded the receipt and blockchain executed the transaction. And to rub salt in the wound, every time an investor’s attempt to invest was rejected, John’s computer would ding. Ding … ding … ding … ding … ding. John and Emma were frantically working with the FBI, and several anti-hacking consultants; Counter Hack; Hack Control, Mitnick Security; and Code Monitor -- all to no avail. And back in Estonia … In his newly remodeled penthouse office, Igor relaxed in his Burberry cashmere sweater, as he sat back with his feet up on the desk, smoking a Cuban Partagas cigar and sipping a glass of Beluga Noble Russian Vodka, neat. He was listening to his computer confirm incoming transactions with an audible two-tone sound: Ding-dong … ding-dong … ding-dong … ding-dong … ding-dong – and thinking, LIFE IS GOOD! Chapter 5 JOE AND SUZANNE DONNELLY Emma and John were at their wits end. It seemed their world, which was bad to begin with, was now a complete train wreck. Before they were only broke; but now they faced the loss of everything and there was good chance jail time was clearly in their future. LottaPickles was going to be their downfall. Truly, it had become Dill Pickles, sour to the core. Emma made a very difficult decision, it was time to go to her father for help. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but there seemed to be no other alternative. BACKSTORY Emma’s parents were members of the old guard of Boston society. Johannes Korhonen III and his wife Clara lived in Beacon Hill. Johannes was second generation Finnish. His grandfather, Johannes I, immigrated from Finland in 1910 and settled in Boston. His first job was in a commodity trading firm owned by Joe Kennedy. Joe took a liking to this young immigrant and moved him up through the ranks, ultimately becoming Joe’s right hand man. He became known as a “fixer”. When Joe began to import liquor during the early years of prohibition, he brought young Johannes along with him. The young man made a small fortune in the early ’20’s selling bootleg bourbon on the docks of Boston. When Johannes III’s father inherited this fortune he began to invest in real estate in the Back Bay and multiplied it tenfold, insuring that his dependents never had to work again. Much like the Kennedy clan, the Korhonen family was able to take the fortune they had grown in a somewhat dubious manner and transform it into a legitimate enterprise. BEACON HILL Emma and John drove to Johannes’s brownstone on Beacon Hill and described to her parents the catastrophe they had created for themselves. Emma’s was overwhelming. John walked Johannes and Clara through the complicated explanation of how they developed the idea for a crypto currency lottery scheme, and how they found Ivan in Estonia to build the systems platform that was the engine that made it all work. Johannes had a long list of contacts in government and law enforcement and he began to work the phones. His challenge was that he didn’t understand the world of crypto currency but knew that what was being done to his daughter was criminal and had to be dealt with quickly. He ran into a brick wall with all of his efforts with law enforcement. The three of them agreed that since the platform was built in Estonia it was there they needed to focus their efforts. Johannes had one last card to play. He knew no one in Estonia, but over the years he had stayed in touch with a cousin of his in Finland. Betrand Korhonen was his name, and like Johannes, had inherited a fortune from his father. HELSINKI Bertrand’s family had made their fortune in the ’60’s and ’70’s investing in banks and data processing companies. They later were investors in private equity firms specializing in computer start ups. With John’s help, Johannes explained to Bertrand the design and purpose of LottaPickles and that they had contracted with a programmer named Ivan to build the website. Bertrand was a quick study and knew immediately who he could reach out to in Tallinn, Estonia. Bertrand was well aware that Eastern Europe and Russia was a hotbed of computer hackers and criminals. Helsinki was across the Gulf of Finland from Tallinn, Estonia, Bertrand knew who he would contact to begin the search for Ivan and to crack the mystery of what must have been the hack of LottaPickles. He put a call into a security firm in Tallinn by the name of Task Consultants. Task had a long history of helping a variety of companies and governments with the arrest and prosecution of criminals who used the “dark web” to hack institutions around the world. Having been provided the name of the original programmer, Task began their search. It was only a matter of days before they found Ivan. Their first step was to hack into Ivan’s system to see what they could find. Bertrand paid them a hefty retainer and gave them permission to start the process. 24 hours later, Task Consultants called Bertrand and gave him some very troubling news. Yes, in fact they had easily gained access to Ivan’s computer. It showed evidence that the program called LottaPickles had been copied. A backdoor had been built into the system. And they were able to trace the duplicate back to a notorious hacker by the name of Igor Stravinsky. But that wasn’t the bad news. The bad news was Igor’s uncle was not a person to be trifled with and Task strongly suggested that Bertrand drop the matter immediately. The managing partner of Task also told him that they would be returning the retainer to Bertrand and would be closing their file immediately.