Page 3 of Micah
Behind it sits enough battery backup to keep my entire system running for three weeks if the power grid goes down.
The old-fashioned weather station mounted near the barn?
Half weather instruments.
Half surveillance array.
Every inch of this place is layered.
Protected.
Hidden.
Exactly the way I like it.
People see cowboy.
They expect horses.
Hay.
Boots.
They don't expect quantum encryption.
Military-grade firewalls.
Private servers spread across three continents.
I smile to myself.
Good.
That's the whole fucking point.
Jersey Iron Ranch fills my days.
But my private cybersecurity consulting company?
That’s what makes me rich.
Most of my clients don't even know where I live.
They just know when their systems get tested, nobody gets past me.
Banks.
Medical companies.
Defense contractors.
A couple of billionaires who pay me obscene amounts of money just to sleep better at night.
If someone's trying to break into their network...
I'm already there, waiting.
Oh, it's easier than people think.
