Whenever Jobs would come from his corporate office to visit the Mac team's engineers which was almost every afternoon
they would hurriedly find somewhere for Komoto to hide.
At one point Jobs ran into him at a newsstand in Cupertino and recognized him from the meeting in Japan, but he didn't suspect anything.
The closest call was when Jobs came bustling onto the Mac work space unexpectedly one day
while Komoto was sitting in one of the cubicles.
A Mac engineer grabbed him and pointed him to a janitorial closet.
"Quick, hide in this closet. Please! Now!"
Komoto looked confused, Hertzfeld recalled, but he jumped up and did as told.
He had to stay in the closet for five minutes, until Jobs left.
The Mac engineers apologized.
"No problem," he replied. "But American business practices, they are very strange. Very strange."
Belleville's prediction came true.
In May 1983 the folks at Alps admitted it would take them at least eighteen more months
to get their clone of the Sony drive into production.
At a retreat in Pajaro Dunes, Markkula grilled Jobs on what he was going to do.
Finally, Belleville interrupted and said that he might have an alternative to the Alps drive ready soon.
Jobs looked baffled for just a moment, and then it became clear to him why he'd glimpsed Sony's top disk designer in Cupertino.
"You son of a bitch!" Jobs said. But it was not in anger.
There was a big grin on his face.
As soon as he realized what Belleville and the other engineers had done behind his back, said Hertzfeld,
"Steve swallowed his pride and thanked them for disobeying him and doing the right thing."
It was, after all, what he would have done in their situation.