Digital Fortress Chapter 94-99

Chapter 94Midge Milken s in additiond fuming at the water cooler more or less the entrance to the conference get on. What the hell is Fontaine doing? She crumpled her paper cup and threw it forcefully into the trash can. Theres both(prenominal)thing fortuity in Crypto I can feel it Midge knew on that point was besides one personal manner to prove herself honorable. Shed go check bulge Crypto herself-track pop bulge away Jabba if need be. She spun on her heel and headed for the door.Brinkerh aside appe atomic number 18d out of nowhere, blocking her way. Where are you headed?Home Midge lied.Brinkerh take out refused to let her pass.Midge gla reddened. Fontaine told you non to let me out, didnt he?Brinkerhoff looked away.Chad, Im telling you, in that respects something happening in Crypto-something big. I dont know why Fontaines playing dumb, except TRANSLTRs in trouble. Something is non right down in that location tonightMidge, he soothed, walkway past her toward the mantlepieceed conference direction windows, lets let the director wrap up it.Midges gaze sharpened. Do you have any idea what happens to TRANSLTR if the cooling g all everywherenance fails?Brinkerhoff shrugged and approached the window. Powers probably put up on-line by now anyway. He pulled away the curtains and looked.Still dark? Midge asked.But Brinkerhoff did not reply. He was spellbound. The scene downstairs in the Crypto dome was unimaginable. The entire glass cupola was filled with spinning lights, split second strobes, and swirling steam. Brinkerhoff stood transfixed, teete wicket light-headed against the glass. Then, in a frenzy of panic, he raced out. theater director DirectorChapter 95The blood of Christ the cup of salvation spate collect some the slumped frame in the pew. Overhead, the frankincense swung its peaceful arcs. Hulohot wheeled wildly in the boil down aisle and scanned the church. Hes got to be here He spun anchor toward the communion slacken. Thirty rows ahead, holy communion was proceeding uninterrupted. Padre Gustaphes Herrera, the head goblet bearer, glanced curiously at the quiet commotion in one of the center pews he was not concerned. Somemagazines some of the older folks were outstrip by the holy spirit and passed out. A little air roughhewnly did the trick.Meanwhile, Hulohot was searching deucedly. Becker was nowhere in sight. A hundred or so people were kneeling at the long altar receiving communion. Hulohot wondered if Becker was one of them. He scanned their sustains. He was prepared to shoot from fifty yards away and fuddle a dash for it.El cuerpo de Jesus, el pan del cielo.The young priest overhaul Becker communion gave him a disapproving stare. He could understand the strangers eagerness to call for communion, but it was no excuse to cut inline.Becker bowed his head and chewed the wafer as best he could. He sensed something was happening behind him, some tell apart of disturbance. He thought of th e man from whom hed bought the cap and hoped he had listened to his admonishment and not taken Beckers in exchange. He started to turn and look, but he feared the wire-rim glasses would be staring back. He crouched in hopes his black jacket was covering the back of his khaki pants. It was not.The chalice was coming quickly from his right. People were already swallowing their wine-colored, crossing themselves, and standing to leave. Slow down Becker was in no hurry to leave the altar. But with two thousand people delay for communion and only eight priests serving, it was considered bad form to linger over a sip of wine.The chalice was just to the right of Becker when Hulohot spotted the mate khaki pants. Estas ya muerto, he hissed softly. Youre already dead. Hulohot locomote up the center aisle. The judgment of conviction for subtlety had passed. Two shots in the back, and he would grab the ring and run. The biggest cab stand in Seville was half a block away on Mateus Gago. He reached for his weapon.Adios, Senor BeckerLa sangre de Cristo, la copa de la salvacion.The thick scent of red wine filled Beckers nostrils as Padre Herrera lowered the hand- delicate, bills chalice. minute early for drinking, Becker thought as he leaned forward. But as the silver goblet dropped past eye level, at that place was a blur of movement. A figure, coming fast, his shape warped in the reflection of the cup.Becker adage a flash of metal, a weapon being drawn. Instantly, unconsciously, identical a off caste from a starting block at the sound of a gun, Becker was vaulting forward. The priest fell back in horror as the chalice sailed by the air, and red wine rained down on white marble. Priests and altar boys went scattering as Becker dove over the communion rail. A muffler coughed out a single shot. Becker landed hard, and the shot exploded in the marble floor beside him. An blatant later he was tumbling down triad granite stairs into the valle, a narrow passageway through which the clergy entered, allowing them to tog out onto the altar as if by divine grace.At the bottom of the steps, he stumbled and dove. Becker felt himself sliding out of control across the slick polished stone. A dagger of pain shot though his gut as he landed on his side. A moment later he was stumbling through a curtained entryway and down a set of wooden stairs.Pain. Becker was running, through a dressing room. It was dark. There were screams from the altar. Loud footsteps in pursuit. Becker burst through a set of double doors and stumbled into some sort of study. It was dark, furnished with rich Orientals and polished mahogany. On the far wall was a life-size crucifix. Becker staggered to a stop. Dead end. He was at the tip of the cross. He could hear Hulohot ending fast. Becker stared at the crucifix and cursed his bad luck. goddam it he screamed.There was the sudden sound of breaking glass to Beckers left. He wheeled. A man in red robes gasped and moody to eye B ecker in horror. Like a cat caught with a canary, the holy man wiped his communicate and tried to hide the broken bottle of holy communion wine at his feet.Salida Becker demanded. Salida Let me outCardinal Guerra reacted on instinct. A the Tempter had entered his sacred chambers screaming for deliverance from the house of God. Guerra would grant him that wish-immediately. The freak had entered at a most inopportune moment.Pale, the cardinal pointed to a curtain on the wall to his left. Hidden behind the curtain was a door. Hed installed it three years ago. It led directly to the courtyard outside. The cardinal had grown trite of exiting the church through the front door like a common sinner.Chapter 96Susan was wet and shivering, huddled on the Node 3 couch. Strathmore captive his suit coat over her shoulders. impels system lay a fewer yards away. The sirens blared. Like ice thawing on a frozen pond, TRANSLTRs remove let out a sharp crack.Im going down to down power, Strath more said, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Ill be right back.Susan stared absently after the commander as he dashed across the Crypto floor. He was no longer the catatonic man shed get holdn ten minutes before. Commander Trevor Strathmore was back-logical, controlled, doing whatever was necessary to get the job solve.The final linguistic process of Hales suicide note ran through her mind like a tag out of control Above all, Im truly sorry about David Becker. concede me, I was blinded by ambition.Susan Fletchers nightmare had just been confirmed. David was in hazard or worse. Maybe it was already too late. Im truly sorry about David Becker.She stared at the note. Hale hadnt even signed it-hed just typed his name at the bottom Greg Hale. Hed poured out his guts, pressed print, and then shot himself-just like that. Hale had sworn hed never go back to prison hed kept his vow-hed elect death sort of.David She sobbed. DavidAt that moment, ten feet below the Crypto floo r, Commander Strathmore stepped off the running game onto the first landing. It had been a day of fiascoes. What had started out as a superpatriotic mission had swerved wildly out of control. The commander had been labored to make unthinkable decisions, commit horrific acts-acts hed never imagined himself capable of.It was a solution It was the only damn solutionThere was duty to think of country and honor. Strathmore knew there was still quantify. He could shut down TRANSLTR. He could use the ring to just the countrys most valuable entropybank. Yes, he thought, there was still time.Strathmore looked out over the disaster around him. The overhead sprinklers were on. TRANSLTR was groaning. The sirens blared. The spinning lights looked like helicopters closing in through dense fog. With every step, all he could see was Greg Hale-the young cryptographer gazing up, his look pleading, and then, the shot. Hales death was for country for honor. The NSA could not feed an other(a) s candal. Strathmore needed a scapegoat. Besides, Greg Hale was a disaster time lag to happen.Strathmores thoughts were jarred free by the sound of his cellular. It was barely audible over the sirens and raspberry fumes. He snatched it off his belt without breaking stride.Speak.Wheres my pass-key? a familiar representative demanded.Who is this? Strathmore yelled over the din.Its Numataka the angry voice bellowed back. You promised me a pass-keyStrathmore kept moving.I want Digital shelter Numataka hissed.There is no Digital Fortress Strathmore shot back.What?There is no unbreakable algorithmOf course there is Ive seen it on the Internet My people have been try to unlock it for eldIts an encrypted virus, you fool-and youre damn lucky you cant open itBut-The traverse is off Strathmore yelled. Im not nitrogen Dakota. There is no North Dakota Forget I ever mentioned it He clamped the cellular shut, turned off the ringer, and rammed it back on his belt. There would be no more inter ruptions.Twelve thousand miles away, Tokugen Numataka stood stunned at his plate-glass window. His Umami cigar hung limply in his mouth. The deal of his lifetime had just disintegrated before his look.Strathmore kept descending. The deal is off. Numatech Corp. would never get the unbreakable algorithm and the NSA would never get its back door.Strathmores dream had been a long time in the planning-hed chosen Numatech carefully. Numatech was wealthy, a plausibly winner of the pass-key auction. No one would think twice if it finish up with the key. Conveniently there was no company less likely to be suspected of consorting with the U.S. government. Tokugen Numataka was old-world Japan-death before dishonor. He hated Americans. He hated their food, he hated their customs, and most of all, he hated their cargo hold on the worlds software market.Strathmores vision had been bold-a world encryption standard with a back door for the NSA. Hed longed to share his dream with Susan, to carry it out with her by his side, but he knew he could not. Even though Ensei Tankados death would save thousands of lives in the future, Susan would never have agreed she was a paci fistic. Im a pacifist too, thought Strathmore, I just dont have the luxury of acting like one.There had never been any doubt in the commanders mind who would overcome Tankado. Tankado was in Spain-and Spain meant Hulohot. The forty-two-year-old Portuguese mercenary was one of the commanders favorite pros. Hed been working for the NSA for years. born(p) and raised in Lisbon, Hulohot had done work for the NSA all over Europe. never once had his kills been traced back to Fort Meade. The only catch was that Hulohot was deaf yell communication was impossible. Recently Strathmore had arranged for Hulohot to receive the NSAs newest toy, the Monocle computer. Strathmore bought himself a SkyPager and programmed it to the alike(p) frequency. From that moment on, his communication with Hulohot was not only instan taneous but in like manner entirely untraceable.The first message Strathmore had sent Hulohot left little room for misunderstanding. They had already discussed it. Kill Ensei Tankado. Obtain pass-key.Strathmore never asked how Hulohot worked his magic, but somehow he had done it again. Ensei Tankado was dead, and the authorities were convinced it was a heart attack. A schoolbook kill-except for one thing. Hulohot had misjudged the location. Apparently Tankado dying in a public browse was a necessary part of the illusion. But unexpectedly, the public had appeared too soon. Hulohot was forced into hiding before he could search the body for the pass-key. When the dust settled, Tankados body was in the hands of Sevilles coroner.Strathmore was furious. Hulohot had blown a mission for the first time ever-and hed picked an inauspicious time to do it. Getting Tankados pass-key was critical, but Strathmore knew that sending a deaf assassin into the Seville morgue was a suicide mission. He had pondered his other options. A second scheme began to materialize. Strathmore suddenly saw a recover to win on two fronts-a chance to realize two dreams instead of just one. At six-thirty that morning, he had called David Becker.Chapter 97Fontaine burst into the conference room at a full sprint. Brinkerhoff and Midge were close at his heels.Look Midge choked, motioning frantically to the window.Fontaine looked out the window at the strobes in the Crypto dome. His eyes went wide. This was definitely not part of the plan.Brinkerhoff sputtered. Its a goddamn disco down thereFontaine stared out, trying to make sense of it. In the few years TRANSLTR had been operational, it had never done this. Its overheating, he thought. He wondered why the hell Strathmore hadnt shut it down. It took Fontaine only an instant to make up his mind.He snatched an interoffice phone off the conference table and punched the extension for Crypto. The receiver began beeping as if the extension were out of o rder.Fontaine slammed down the receiver. horseshit it He immediately picked up again and dialed Strathmores private cellular line. This time the line began to ring.Six rings went by.Brinkerhoff and Midge watched as Fontaine paced the length of his phone agate line like a tiger on a chain. After a full minute, Fontaine was crimson with rage.He slammed down the receiver again. Unbelievable he bellowed. Cryptos about to blow, and Strathmore wont answer his goddamn phoneChapter 98Hulohot burst out of Cardinal Guerras chambers into the blinding morning sun. He shielded his eyes and cursed. He was standing outside the cathedral in a flyspeck patio, bordered by a high stone wall, the west plaque of the Giralda tower, and two wrought-iron fences. The gate was open. Outside the gate was the square. It was empty. The walls of Santa Cruz were in the distance. There was no way Becker could have made it so far so quickly. Hulohot turned and scanned the patio. Hes in here. He must beThe patio , Jardin de los Naranjos, was famous in Seville for its 20 blossoming orange trees. The trees were renowned in Seville as the birthplace of side marmalade. An eighteenth-century English trader had purchased three dozen bushels of oranges from the Seville church and taken them back to London only to find the fruit inedibly bitter. He tried to make jam from the rinds and ended up having to add pounds of sugar just to make it palatable. Orange marmalade had been born.Hulohot moved forward through the grove, gun leveled. The trees were old, and the foliage had moved high on their trunks. Their lowest branches were unreachable, and the thin bases provided no cover. Hulohot quickly saw the patio was empty. He looked straight up. The Giralda.The entrance to the Giraldas spiral staircase was cordoned off by a rope and small wooden sign. The rope hung motionless. Hulohots eyes climbed the 419-foot tower and immediately knew it was a ridiculous thought. There was no way Becker would have bee n that stupid. The single staircase wound straight up to a square stone cubicle. There were narrow slits in the wall for viewing, but there was no way out.David Becker climbed the last of the steep stairs and staggered breathless into a tiny stone cubicle. There were high walls all around him and narrow slits in the perimeter. No exit.Fate had done Becker no favors this morning. As hed dashed from the cathedral into the open courtyard, his jacket had caught on the door. The fabric had stop him mid stride and swung him hard left before tearing. Becker was suddenly stumbling off balance into the blinding sun. When hed looked up, he was heading straight for a staircase. Hed jumped over the rope and dashed up. By the time he realized where it led, it was too late.Now he stood in the confined cell and caught his breath. His side burned. cut slats of morning sun streamed through the openings in the wall. He looked out. The man in the wire-rim glasses was far below, his back to Becker, s taring out at the plaza. Becker shifted his body in front of the crack for a better view. Cross the plaza, he willed him.The shadow of the Giralda lay across the square like a elephantine felled sequoia. Hulohot stared the length of it. At the far end, three slits of light cut through the towers viewing apertures and fell in crisp rectangles on the cobblestone below. whiz of those rectangles had just been blotted out by the shadow of a man. Without so a great deal as a glance toward the top of the tower, Hulohot spun and dashed toward the Giralda stairs.Chapter 99Fontaine pounded his fist into his hand. He paced the conference room and stared out at the spinning Crypto lights. terminate Goddamn it AbortMidge appeared in the doorway waving a saucily readout. Director Strathmore cant abortWhat Brinkerhoff and Fontaine gasped in unison.He tried, sir Midge held up the report. Four time already TRANSLTRs locked in some sort of endless loop.Fontaine spun and stared back out the wind ow. Jesus ChristThe conference room phone rang sharply. The director threw up his arms. Its got to be Strathmore About goddamn timeBrinkerhoff scooped up the phone. Directors office.Fontaine held out his hand for the receiver.Brinkerhoff looked uneasy and turned to Midge. Its Jabba. He wants you.The director swung his gaze over to Midge, who was already crossing the room. She activated the speaker phone. Go ahead, Jabba.Jabbas metallic voice boomed into the room. Midge, Im in the main databank. Were showing some strange stuff down here. I was wondering if-Dammit, Jabba Midge came unglued. Thats what Ive been trying to tell youIt could be nothing, Jabba hedged, but-Stop saying that Its not nothing Whatevers going on down there, take it seriously, very seriously. My data isnt fried-never has been, never will. She started to hang up and then added, Oh, and Jabba? Just so there arent any surprises Strathmore bypassed Gauntlet.