Digital Fortress Chapter 66-70

Chapter 66Becker crossed the concourse toward the rest means doors only to find the door marked CABALLEROS blocked by an orange pylon and a cleaning cart filled with detergent and mops. He eyed the other door. DAMAS. He strode over and rapped loudly.Hola? he called, pushing the ladies room door open an inch. Con permiso?Silence.He went in.The rest room was typical, Spanish institutional-perfectly square, whiteness tile, one incandescent bulb overhead. As usual, there was one snuff it and one urinal. Whether the urinals were ever used in the womens bathrooms was immaterial-adding them saved the contractors the expense of having to build the extra stall.Becker peered into the rest room in disgust. It was filthy. The sink was clogged with murky browned water. Dirty paper towels were strewn everywhere. The floor was soaked. The old electric hand blower on the wall was smeared with greenish fingerprints.Becker stepped in front of the mirror and sighed. The eyes that normally stared bac k with fierce clarity were not so clear to dark. How long pass on I been running around over here? he wondered. The math escaped him. Out of professorial habit, he shimmied his neckties Windsor knot up on his collar. Then he turned to the urinal behind him.As he stood there, he implant himself wonde camp if Susan was home yet. Where could she have gone? To Stone Manor with come to the fore me?Hey a female voice behind him said angrily.Becker jumped. I-Im he stammered, hurrying to zip up. Im disturbing IBecker turned to face the fille who had just entered. She was a young sophisticate, right make the pages of Seventeen Magazine. She wore conservative plaid pants and a white sleeveless blouse. In her hand was a red L. L. Bean duffel. Her blond hair was perfectly blow-dried.Im sorry. Becker fumbled, buckling his belt. The mens room was anyway Im leaving.Fuckin weirdoBecker did a double-take. The blasphemy seemed inappropriate coming from her lips-like sewage flowing from a polis hed decanter. But as Becker studied her, he see that she was not as polished as hed first thought. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her left forearm was conceited. Underneath the reddish irritation on her arm, the flesh was blue.Jesus, Becker thought. Intravenous drugs. Who would have guessed?Get out she yelled. barely get outBecker secondmentarily forgot all about the plangency, the NSA, all of it. His heart went out to the young young woman. Her parents had probably sent her over here with some preparedness school study program and a VISA card-and shed terminateed up all alone in a bathroom in the middle of the night doing drugs.Are you okay? he asked, backing toward the door.Im fine. Her voice was haughty. You can leave nowBecker turned to go. He shot her forearm a last disturbing glance. Theres goose egg you can do, David. Leave it alone. today she hollered.Becker nodded. As he left he gave her a sad smile. Be careful.Chapter 67Susan? Hale panted, his face in her s.He was sitting, one leg on either side of her, his full weight on her midsection. His tailbone ground painfully into her pubis through the thin stuff of her skirt. His nose was dripping blood all over her. She tasted vomit in the back of her throat. His custody were at her chest.She felt nothing. Is he touching me? It took a moment for Susan to realize Hale was entirelytoning her top button and covering her up.Susan. Hale gasped, breathless. Youve got to get me out of here.Susan was in a daze. Nothing made sense.Susan, youve got to help me Strathmore killed Chartrukian I saw itIt took a moment for the words to register. Strathmore killed Chartrukian? Hale obviously had no idea Susan had seen him downstairs.Strathmore spotlights I saw him Hale spat. Hell kill me tooHad Susan not been breathless with fear, she would have laughed in his face. She recognized the divide-and-conquer mentality of an ex-Marine. Invent lies-pit your enemies against each other.Its true he yelled. Weve got to call for help I think were both in dangerShe did not believe a word he said.Hales muscular legs were cramping, and he rolled up on his haunches to shift his weight slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance.As Hales body rose, Susan felt the circulation surge back into her legs. Before she knew what had happened, a reflex instinct jerked her left leg back voiceless into Hales crotch. She felt her kneecap crush the soft sac of tissue between his legs.Hale whimpered in agony and instantly went limp. He rolled onto his side, clutching himself. Susan twisted out from under his deadweight. She staggered toward the door, knowing shed never be strong enough to get out.Making a split-second decision, Susan positioned herself behind the long maple meeting table and dug her feet into the carpet. mercifully the table had casters. She strode with all her might toward the arched glass wall, pushing the table onwards her. The casters were good, and the table roll ed well. Halfway across Node 3, she was at a full sprint.Five feet from the glass wall, Susan heaved and permit go. She leapt to one side and covered her eyes. After a sickening crack, the wall exploded in a exhibitor of glass. The sounds of Crypto rushed into Node 3 for the first time since its construction.Susan looked up. Through the jagged hole, she could see the table. It was pipe down rolling. It spun wide circles out across the Crypto floor and eventually disappeared into the darkness.Susan rammed her iron Ferragamos back on her feet, shot a last glance at the still-writhing Greg Hale, and dashed across the sea of broken glass out onto the Crypto floor.Chapter 68 now wasnt that easy? Midge said with a sneer as Brinkerhoff handed over the key to Fontaines office.Brinkerhoff looked beaten.Ill erase it before I go, Midge promised. Unless you and your wife want it for your private collection. on the dot get the damned printout, he snapped. And then get outSi, senor, Midge ca ckled in a thick Puerto Rican accent. She winked and headed across the suite to Fontaines double doors.Leland Fontaines private office looked nothing like the rest of the directorial suite. There were no paintings, no overstuffed curbs, no ficus plants, no antique clocks. His space was streamlined for efficiency. His glass-topped desk and black leather chair sat directly in front of his enormous picture window. Three file cabinets stood in the corner next to a small table with a French press coffeepot. The moon had risen high over Fort Meade, and the soft light filtering through the window accentuated the starkness of the directors furnishings.What the hell am I doing? Brinkerhoff wondered.Midge strode to the printer and scooped up the queue list. She squinted in the darkness. I cant read the data, she complained. Turn on the lights.Youre reading it outside. Now come on.But Midge was apparently having too untold fun. She toyed with Brinkerhoff, walking to the window and angling th e readout for a better(p) view.MidgeShe kept reading.Brinkerhoff shifted anxiously in the doorway. Midge come on. These are the directors private quarters.Its here somewhere, she muttered, studying the printout. Strathmore bypassed gauntlet, I know it. She moved closer to the window.Brinkerhoff began to sweat. Midge kept reading.After a few moments, she gasped. I knew it Strathmore did it He really did The idiot She held up the paper and shook it. He bypassed Gauntlet Have a lookBrinkerhoff stared dumbfounded a moment and then raced across the directors office. He crowded in next to Midge in front of the window. She pointed to the end of the readout.Brinkerhoff read in disbelief. What the?The printout contained a list of the last thirty-six files that had entered TRANSLTR. After each file was a four-digit Gauntlet clearance code. However, the last file on the sheet had no clearance code-it simply read manual bypass. Jesus, Brinkerhoff thought. Midge strikes again.The idiot Midge s puttered, seething. Look at this Gauntlet rejected the file twice Mutation set up And he still bypassed What the hell was he thinking?Brinkerhoff felt weak-kneed. He wondered why Midge was always right. Neither of them noticed the reflection that had appeared in the window beside them. A massive figure was standing in Fontaines open doorway.Jeez, Brinkerhoff choked. You think we have a virus?Midge sighed. Nothing else it could be.Could be none of your damn business the heavy voice boomed from behind them.Midge knocked her head against the window. Brinkerhoff tipped over the directors chair and wheeled toward the voice. He immediately knew the silhouette.Director Brinkerhoff gasped. He strode over and extended his hand. Welcome home, sir.The colossal man ignored it.I-I thought, Brinkerhoff stammered, retracting his hand, I thought you were in South America.Leland Fontaine glared down at his aide with eyes like bullets. Yes and now Im back.Chapter 69Hey, misterBecker had been walki ng across the concourse toward a bank of pay phones. He stopped and turned. Coming up behind him was the girl hed just surprised in the bathroom. She waved for him to wait. Mister, waitNow what? Becker groaned. She wants to press invasion-of-privacy charges?The girl dragged her duffel toward him. When she arrived, she was now wearing a huge smile. Sorry to yell at you back there. You just kind of startled me.No problem, Becker assured, somewhat puzzled. I was in the wrong place.This will sound crazy, she said, batting her bloodshot eyes. But you wouldnt happen to have some money you can land me, would you?Becker stared at her in disbelief. Money for what? he demanded. Im not funding your drug habit if thats what youre asking.Im trying to get back home, the blonde said. Can you help? get by your flight?She nodded. Lost my ticket. They wouldnt let me get on. Airlines can be such assholes. I dont have the cash to buy another.Where are your parents? Becker asked.States.Can you reach th em?Nope. already tried. I think theyre weekending on somebodys yacht.Becker scanned the girls expensive clothing. You dont have a credit card?Yeah, but my dad canceled it. He thinks Im on drugs.Are you on drugs? Becker asked, deadpan, eyeing her swollen forearm.The girl glared, indignant. Of course not She gave Becker an innocent huff, and he suddenly got the feeling he was being played.Come on, she said. You look like a rich guy. Cant you spot me some cash to get home? I could send it to you later.Becker figured any cash he gave this girl would end up in the hands of some drug dealer in Triana. First of all, he said, Im not a rich guy-Im a teacher. But Ill tell you what Ill do Ill call your bluff, thats what Ill do. why dont I charge the ticket for you?The blonde stared at him in utter shock. Youd do that? she stammered, eyes wide with hope. Youd buy me a ticket home? Oh, God, give thanks youBecker was speechless. He had apparently misjudged the moment.The girl threw her arms arou nd him. Its been a shitty summer, she choked, almost bursting into tears. Oh, thank you Ive got to get out of hereBecker returned her embrace halfheartedly. The girl let go of him, and he eyed her forearm again.She followed his gaze to the bluish rash. Gross, huh?Becker nodded. I thought you said you werent on drugs.The girl laughed. Its Magic Marker I took off half my skin trying to scrub it off. The ink smeared.Becker looked closer. In the fluorescent light, he could see, blurred beneath the reddish swelling on her arm, the faint analysis of writing-words scrawled on flesh.But but your eyes, Becker said, feeling dumb. Theyre all red.She laughed. I was crying. I told you, I missed my flight.Becker looked back at the words on her arm.She frowned, embarrassed. Oops, you can still kind of read it, cant you?Becker leaned closer. He could read it all right. The message was crystal clear. As he read the four faint words, the last twelve hours flashed before his eyes.David Becker found h imself back in the Alfonso XIII hotel room. The obese German was touching his own forearm and speaking broken English Fock off und die.You okay? the girl asked, eyeing the dazed Becker.Becker did not look up from her arm. He was dizzy. The four words smeared across the girls flesh carried a very simple message FUCK remove AND DIE.The blonde looked down at it, embarrassed. This friend of mine wrote it pretty stupid, huh?Becker couldnt speak. Fock off und die. He couldnt believe it. The German hadnt been insulting him, hed been trying to help. Becker lifted his gaze to the girls face. In the fluorescent light of the concourse, he could see faint traces of red and blue in the girls blond hair.Y-you Becker stammered, staring at her unpierced ears. You wouldnt happen to wear earrings, would you?The girl eyed him strangely. She fished a tiny object from her pocket and held it out. Becker gazed at the skull pendant dangling in her hand.A clip-on? he stammered.Hell, yes, the girl replied. Im scared afraid(predicate) of needles.Chapter 70David Becker stood in the deserted concourse and felt his legs go weak. He eyed the girl before him and knew his search was over. She had washed her hair and changed clothes-maybe in hopes of having better luck selling the ring-but shed never boarded for New York.Becker fought to keep his cool. His wild journey was about to end. He scanned her fingers. They were bare. He gazed down at her duffel. Its in there, he thought. Its got to beHe smiled, barely containing his excitement. This is going to sound crazy, he said, but I think youve got something I need.Oh? Megan seemed suddenly uncertain.Becker reached for his wallet. Of course Id be happy to pay you. He looked down and started sorting through the cash in his billfold.As Megan watched him count out his money, she drew a startled gasp, apparently misunderstanding his intentions. She shot a frightened glance toward the revolving door measuring the distance. It was fifty yards.I can give you enough to buy your ticket home if-Dont say it, Megan blurted, offering a forced smile. I think I know exactly what you need. She bent down and started rifling through her duffel.Becker felt a surge of hope. Shes got it he told himself. Shes got the ring He didnt know how the hell she knew what it was he wanted, but he was too tired to care. Every muscle in his body relaxed. He pictured himself handing the ring to the beaming deputy director of the NSA. Then he and Susan would lie in the big canopy bed at Stone Manor and make up for lost time.The girl finally found what she was looking for-her PepperGuard-the environmentally safe alternative to mace, made from a potent blend of cayenne and chili peppers. In one swift motion, she swung around and fired a direct stream into Beckers eyes. She grabbed her duffel and dashed for the door. When she looked back, David Becker was on the floor, holding his face, writhing in agony.