At 3:15 a.m., while hackers from Romania were trying to break into a bank’s customer accounts, I unplugged my headset and left. Not out of fear. Not out of incompetence. But because I’d just been told I was worth $4,500, while my colleague Jason was worth $32,000 for doing half as much.
My name is David Thompson. I am 47 years old. Until three months ago, I spent my nights in front of screens in Austin, preventing cyberattacks while Texas slept.
I didn’t slam the door. I didn’t make a scene. I left like you leave a building that has been crushing you for years: slowly, cautiously, with that strange relief when the weight finally stops bearing down.
The retention bonus
It all started with an announcement of a « retention bonus » on a Thursday morning. The kind of good company news that mostly sounds like fear disguised as motivational speeches.
I worked nights in cybersecurity for Apex Security Solutions, a mid-sized company that monitored banking networks. Nothing prestigious: when a threat breached our defenses at 2:30 a.m., I was the one scouring logs, blocking IP addresses, and preventing someone’s savings from disappearing onto a server abroad.
The day received the praise. The night inherited the reproaches.
There were five of us covering the night shifts. Two solid guys. A junior guy. Another one who was always « busy ». And then Jason Wilson: 29 years old, in charge of the day team, always relaxed, always self-assured.
When Lisa Roberts, the engineering director, announced bonuses for « critical contributors, » I already knew how it would end. After the meeting, the amounts were announced individually.
Jason received his call first. He returned to the team chat, feigning modesty, before sending me a screenshot: $32,000 in cash, with a 12-month commitment.
Twenty minutes later, Lisa called me. Prepared smile, polite compliments… then the number: $4,500.
I waited for her to correct herself. She didn’t.
« This reflects budgetary constraints, not your performance, » she said. « You are very much appreciated here. »
Valued at the price of an old pickup truck.
One night too many
That night, around 11:30 p.m., the alerts began. A coordinated attack against a financial institution’s customer portal. The procedures were outdated; my suggestions for improvement had been dismissed.
At 1:15 a.m., the attack intensified. At 2:15 a.m., the hackers were targeting our internal administrative systems: access to all clients, all accounts.
Jason asked me, « Should we call Lisa? »
« It’s up to you. You’re in charge, » I replied.
When Lisa finally answered the phone, still sleepy, the situation was critical. She told me, « Do what you have to do. Fix it. »
At 3:10 a.m., after explaining technical details that she should have mastered, she repeated: « Do what you have to do. »
At 3:15 a.m., I got up. I took off my badge. And I left.
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