Day 1 — When the World is Still Unaware

Could this be the start of a widespread issue? It was a possibility worth considering. I reached out to several clients, hoping to ascertain the scope of the crisis. Most reported no problems, but one confirmed that their IT department had advised them to visit their helpdesk on Monday.

I nearly forgot it was Friday.

My internal voice urged me, “We have time.” However, I decided not to wait. Monday would be too late; by then, we would be scrambling for makeshift solutions. I immediately contacted my Chief Product Officer, Oliver, who was in France at the time.

He answered promptly, and I wasted no time getting to the point. I expressed my concerns and stressed the need to have contingency plans in place before our clients awoke to the impending disaster.

He listened attentively before posing a crucial question: “Aldric, this is a Microsoft and Crowdstrike issue. Our products can function on other operating systems without Crowdstrike. Why are you so worried?”

I anticipated this inquiry. I explained that many IT departments operate with minimal resources. When issues arise, they often seek help but may not reach out to the right entities. Regardless, they are our clients, and we have a responsibility to assist them.

I then recalled the Lehman Brothers collapse, likening the situation to an ominous breeze that could escalate into a full-blown storm. Oliver, who had experienced that moment in London, seemed to understand the gravity of my analogy.

“I hope you’re wrong, but it might be wise to test our contingency measures,” he replied before promising to call back in two hours.

Day 2 — The Reality Sets In

I gathered the team. Isabelle, my Gen Z team member, was initially reluctant, but Dora, a diligent colleague, rallied her in. Joe, the pragmatic Gen Xer, and Ithipol, who had immigrated to pursue better opportunities, quickly joined the call.

I briefed them on the brewing storm and how it could affect us. I showed them my laptop and sought their agreement to work over the weekend to prepare.

Joe was the first to step up, recognizing the urgency. “Count me in,” he said. Ithipol followed suit, reassuring me he’d inform his family about his commitment to work through the weekend.

Dora expressed her concerns about feeling ineffective, but I reassured her that her contributions would be valuable.

Then there was Isabelle. After a moment of silence, she shook her head, firmly rejecting the request. She explained that her father, Director Ho, was coming to pick her up for dinner.

“How can you ask us to work on a Friday night without compensation? This is absurd,” she protested.

Exhausted, I let her leave. But as she walked toward the door, she gasped.

“Papa!” she exclaimed, spotting her father standing in the doorway.

Director Ho entered, quickly assessing the situation. “This could escalate. You need assistance. I have connections at Microsoft. I’ll reach out now to gauge the severity of this issue.”

With his intervention, we confirmed our fears: complaints and trouble tickets were piling up on Microsoft’s end, and more were expected.

“You might be onto something, young man,” he acknowledged.

He then called for an urgent Board meeting to discuss our findings.

Day 3 — A Weekend of Action

Joe, Ithipol, and I worked tirelessly through the night, opting to sleep at the office. The ladies returned later with lunch.

Angel arrived around noon, luggage in tow. After a brief update, she sprang into action, contacting our high-profile clients to assure them we were monitoring the situation closely.

“I’ll keep you informed,” she promised, and then connected with Oliver to strategize.

“We need to provide our clients with guidance on what to do if they can’t use our software for an extended period. This isn’t just downtime; it’s an operational crisis. We must be prepared with answers,” she insisted.

Poor Oliver had his work cut out for him, but he recognized the importance of prioritizing our clients’ needs.