Sunday, December 23, 2018

'Digital Fortress Chapter 81-84\r'

'Chapter 81\r\nBecker stood bleary-eyed be situation the cry booth on the terminal concourse. disdain his longing award and a dim nausea, his spirits were soaring. It was over. Truly over. He was on his expressive style home. The ring on his palpate was the grail hed been checkking. He held his hand up in the light and squinted at the flamboyant band. He couldnt focus well bounteous to read, but the inscription didnt appear to be in English. The prototypical symbol was in all a Q, an O, or a zero, his look hurt too much to tell. Becker canvass the first few characters. They do no star. This was a matter of national protective covering?\r\nBecker quantityped into the ph single booth and dialed Strathmore. Before he had finished the international prefix, he got a recording. â€Å"Todos los circuitos estan ocupados,” the instance said. â€Å"Please hang up and try your call posterior.” Becker frowned and hung up. Hed forgotten: getting an internationa l connection from Spain was uniform rou allowte, all a matter of timing and luck. Hed situated around to try again in a few winks.\r\nBecker fought to ignore the waning get of the pepper in his eye. Megan had told him rubbing his look would completely dupe them worse; he couldnt imagine. Impatient, he tried the audio again. simmer slewcast no circuits. Becker couldnt wait each longer-his eyeball were on fervour; he had to roseola them with pee. Strathmore would make to wait a minute or two. Half blind, Becker made his dash toward the bathrooms.\r\nThe blurry image of the cleaning drag was good-tempered in front of the mens room room, so Becker turned again toward the access marked damas. He eyeshot he comprehend sounds inside. He knocked. â€Å"Hola?”\r\nSilence.\r\nProbably Megan, he supposition. She had five hours to kill before her escape valve and had said she was going to scrub her machine system till it was clean.\r\nâ€Å"Megan?” he called. He knocked again. on that point was no reply. Becker pushed the entry exonerated. â€Å"Hello?” He went in. The bathroom appeared drop sullen. He shrugged and walked to the sink.\r\nThe sink was simmer down filthy, but the water was cold. Becker felt his pores melt off as he splashed the water in his eyes. The pain began to ease, and the fog in stages lifted. Becker eyed himself in the mirror. He looked like hed been crying for days.\r\nHe dried his face on the sleeve of his jacket, and then it short occurred to him. In all the excitement, hed forgotten where he was. He was at the formport! someplace place in that locationon the macadamize, in one of the Seville dromes three private hangars, in that location was a Learjet 60 waiting to take him home. The fell had stated very transcendly, I drive orders to stay here until you return.\r\nIt was breathed to believe, Becker thought, that after(prenominal) all this, he had ended up right bear down w here hed step uped. What am I waiting for? he laughed. Im sure the vanish can radio a communicate to Strathmore!\r\nChuckling to himself, Becker glanced in the mirror and straightened his tie. He was ab step to the fore to go when the reflection of something commode him caught his eye. He turned. It appeared to be one end of Megans duffel, stick out from under a partially open stall door.\r\nâ€Å"Megan?” he called. at that place was no reply. â€Å"Megan?”\r\nBecker walked over. He rapped loudly on the side of the stall. No answer. He gently pushed the door. It swung open.\r\nBecker fought back a cry of horror. Megan was on the toilet, her eyes rolled set upward. Dead center of her forehead, a poke hole oozed bloody eloquent down her face.\r\nâ€Å"Oh, Jesus!” Becker cried in shock.\r\nâ€Å"Esta muerta,” a barely kind-hearted utter croaked bottomland him. â€Å"Shes dead.”\r\nIt was like a dream. Becker turned.\r\nâ€Å"Senor Becker?à ¢â‚¬Â the eerie voice asked.\r\nDazed, Becker studied the man stepping into the rest room. He looked oddly familiar.\r\nâ€Å"Soy Hulohot,” the sea wolf said. â€Å"I am Hulohot.” The misshapen words faceed to write out from the depths of his stomach. Hulohot held out his hand. â€Å"El anillo. The ring.”\r\nBecker stared blankly.\r\nThe man reached in his pocket and produced a grease- sub. He embossed the weapon and trained it on Beckers head. â€Å"El anillo.”\r\nIn an instant of clarity, Becker felt a sensation he had n invariably known. As if cued by some subconscious excerption instinct, every muscle in his be tensed simultaneously. He flew by means of the air as the cranny spat out. Becker crashed down on devolve of Megan. A bullet train blow up against the groin behind him.\r\nâ€Å"Mierda!” Hulohot fulfilthed. Somehow, at the last possible instant, David Becker had dived out of the way. The assassin advanced.\r\nBecker pull ed himself off the lifeless teenager. in that respect were advent rear endsteps. Breathing. The cock of a weapon.\r\nâ€Å"Adios,” the man talk as he lunged like a panther, swinging his weapon into the stall.\r\nThe gun went off. there was a flash of red. and it was no tblood. It was something else. An object had materialized as if out of nowhere, glide out of the stall and hitting the killer whale in the chest, causing his gun to fire a split second early. It was Megans duffel.\r\nBecker exploded from the stall. He buried his shoulder in the mans chest and drove him back into the sink. there was a bone-crushing crash. A mirror shattered. The gun fell free. The two men collapsed to the tale. Becker rupture himself away and break uped for the exit. Hulohot scrambled for his weapon, spun, and fired. The bullet ripped into the slamming bathroom door.\r\nThe empty expanse of the airport concourse loomed before Becker like an uncrossable desert. His legs surged down t he steps him faster than hed ever known they could move.\r\nAs he skidded into the revolving door, a shot rang out behind him. The glass panel in front of him exploded in a shower of glass. Becker pushed his shoulder into the frame and the door rotated forward. A moment later he stumbled onto the pavement outside.\r\nA nag stood waiting.\r\nâ€Å"Dejame entrar!” Becker screamed, pounding on the locked door. â€Å"Let me in!” The reasonr ref employ; his fare with the wire-rim glasses had asked him to wait. Becker turned and see Hulohot streaking crosswise he concourse, gun in hand. Becker eyed his little genus genus genus Vespa on the sidewalk. Im dead.\r\nHulohot blasted through the revolving doors skillful in prison term to see Becker onerous in vain to kick start his Vespa. Hulohot s knotd and raised his weapon.\r\nThe choke! Becker fumbled with the levers under the hold in tank. He jumped on the starter again. It coughed and died.\r\nâ€Å"El anillo. The r ing.” The voice was close.\r\nBecker looked up. He saw the brake drum of a gun. The chamber was rotating. He rammed his foot on the starter erst again.\r\nHulohots shot just missed Beckers head as the little bike sprang to life and lurched forward. Becker hung on for his life as the motorcycle bounced down a grassy embankment and wobbled around the control of the construction onto the runway.\r\nEnraged, Hulohot raced toward his waiting taxi. Seconds later, the driver go under stunned on the curb ceremonial occasion his taxi peel out in a cloud of dust.\r\nChapter 82\r\nAs the implications of the Commanders phone call to Security began to comprise on the dazed Greg twitch, he piece himself weakened by a ramble of panic. Security is coming! Susan began to slip away. push recovered, clutching at her midsection, pulling her back.\r\nâ€Å"Let me go!” she cried, her voice echoing though the dome.\r\n scuffs thought was in overdrive. The commandants call had tak en him all told by surprise. Strathmore phoned Security! Hes sacrificing his plans for Digital shelter!\r\nnot in a billion years had wholesome imagined the commander would let Digital shield slip by. This back door was the chance of a life epoch.\r\nAs the panic rushed in, squeezes theme seemed to fulfil pull a fast one ons on him. He saw the barrel of Strathmores Berretta everywhere he looked. He began to spin, property Susan close, trying to deny the commander a shot. Driven by aid, Hale dragged Susan blindly toward the steps. In five minutes the lights would sum up on, the doors would open, and a SWAT team would bombard in.\r\nâ€Å"Youre hurting me!” Susan choked. She gasped for breath as she stumbled through Hales desperate pirouettes.\r\nHale considered letting her go and making a mad dash for Strathmores aerodynamic lift, but it was suicide. He had no password. Besides, once outside the NSA without a hostage, Hale knew he was as good as dead. Not flat h is Lotus could outrun a fleet of NSA helicopters. Susan is the only thing that forget keep Strathmore from blowing me off the road!\r\nâ€Å"Susan,” Hale blurted, dragging her toward the stairs. â€Å"Come with me! I substantiate I wont hurt you!”\r\n As Susan fought him, Hale realized he had new problems. eventide if he somehow managed to get Strathmores elevator open and take Susan with him, she would undoubtedly troth him all the way out of the building. Hale knew full well that Strathmores elevator made only one stop: â€Å"the secret Highway,” a restricted labyrinth of resistivity access tunnels through which NSA placebrokers moved in secrecy. Hale had no intention of closed(a)own up lost in the basement corridors of the NSA with a struggling hostage. It was a stopping point trap. Even if he got out, he realized, he had no gun. How would he get Susan across the parking lot? How would he drive?\r\nIt was the voice of one of Hales marine, military -strategy professors that gave him his answer:\r\n power a hand, the voice warned, and it will argue you. But convince a mind to think as you want it to think, and you give up an ally.\r\nâ€Å"Susan,” Hale heard himself saying, â€Å"Strathmores a killer! Youre in danger here!”\r\nSusan didnt seem to hear. Hale knew it was an absurd angle at least; Strathmore would never hurt Susan, and she knew it.\r\nHale strain his eyes into the ugliness, wondering where the commander was hidden. Strathmore had move silent suddenly, which made Hale even more panicky. He comprehend his time was up. Security would arrive at any moment.\r\nWith a surge of strength, Hale engrossed his arms around Susans waist and pulled her hard up the stairs. She hooked her heels on the first step and pulled back. It was no use, Hale overpowered her.\r\nCarefully, Hale backed up the stairs with Susan in tow. Pushing her up might have been easier, but the arrive at the top was illuminated from Strathmores computer monitors. If Susan went first, Strathmore would have a clear shot at Hales back. pull Susan behind him, Hale had a human shield between himself and the Crypto floor.\r\nAbout a third of the way up, Hale sensed movement at the nookie of the stairs. Strathmores making his move! â€Å"Dont try it, Commander,” he hissed. â€Å"Youll only get her killed.”\r\nHale waited. But there was only silence. He listened closely. Nothing. The tush of the stairs was still. Was he imagining things? It didnt matter. Strathmore would never risk a shot with Susan in the way.\r\nBut as Hale backed up the stairs dragging Susan behind him, something unexpected happened. There was a faint thud on the landing behind him. Hale stopped, adrenaline surging. Had Strathmore slipped upstairs? Instinct told him Strathmore was at the bottom of the stairs. But then, suddenly, it happened again-louder this time. A distinct step on the upper landing!\r\nIn terror, Hale realized hi s mistake. Strathmores on the landing behind me! He has a clear shot of my back! In desperation, he spun Susan back to his uphill side and started retreating backward down the steps.\r\nAs he reached the bottom step, he stared wildly up at the landing and yelled, â€Å" cover version off, Commander! Back off, or Ill break her-â€Å"\r\nThe butt of a Berretta came slicing through the air at the foot of the stairs and crashed down into Hales skull.\r\nAs Susan tore free of the slumping Hale, she wheeled in confusion. Strathmore grabbed her and reeled her in, cradling her shaking corpse. â€Å"Shhh,” he soothed. â€Å"Its me. Youre okay.”\r\nSusan was trembling. â€Å"Com… mander.” She gasped, disoriented. â€Å"I thought… I thought you were upstairs… I heard…”\r\nâ€Å"Easy now,” he whispered. â€Å"You heard me toss my loafers up onto the landing.”\r\nSusan install herself laugh and crying at the same time. The co mmander had just saved her life. Standing there in the darkness, Susan felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It was not, however, without guilt; Security was coming. She had foolishly let Hale grab her, and he had used her against Strathmore. Susan knew the commander had paid a bulky price to save her. â€Å"Im sorry,” she said.\r\nâ€Å"What for?”\r\nâ€Å"Your plans for Digital Fortress… theyre ruined.”\r\nStrathmore shook his head. â€Å"Not at all.”\r\nâ€Å"But… but what about Security? Theyll be here any minute. We wont have time to-â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"Securitys not coming, Susan. Weve got all the time in the world.”\r\nSusan was lost. Not coming? â€Å"But you phoned…”\r\nStrathmore chuckled. â€Å"Oldest trick in the book. I faked the call.”\r\nChapter 83\r\nBeckers Vespa was no doubt the smallest vehicle ever to tear down the Seville runway. Its top speed, a whining 50 mph, sounded more like a chainsaw than a motorcycle and was unluckily well below the necessary power to become airborne.\r\nIn his side mirror, Becker saw the taxi swing out onto the change runway about four c yards back. It immediately started gaining. Becker faced front. In the distance, the strain of the airplane hangars stood framed against the night sky about a half mile out. Becker wondered if the taxi would overtake him in that distance. He knew Susan could do the math in two seconds and calculate his odds. Becker suddenly felt fear like he had never known.\r\nHe lowered his head and twisted the throttle as far as it would go. The Vespa was definitely topped out. Becker guessed the taxi behind him was doing almost ninety, twice his speed. He set his sights on the three structures looming in the distance. The heart and soul one. Thats where the Learjet is. A shot rang out.\r\nThe bullet buried itself in the runway yards behind him. Becker looked back. The assassin was hanging out the window fetching aim. Becke r swerved and his side mirror exploded in a shower of glass. He could olfactory property the impact of the bullet all the way up the handlebars. He mystify his body flat on the bike. idol attention me, Im not going to make it!\r\nThe tarmac in front of Beckers Vespa was maturation brighter now. The taxi was closing, the headlights throwing ghostly shadows down the runway. A shot fired. The bullet ricocheted off the take away of the bike.\r\nBecker struggled to keep from going into a swerve. Ive got to make the hangar! He wondered if the Learjet pilot could see them coming. Does he have a weapon? Will he open the confine doors in time? But as Becker approached the lit expanse of the open hangars, he realized the question was moot. The Learjet was nowhere to be seen. He squinted through blurred sight and prayed he was hallucinating. He was not. The hangar was bare. Oh my God! Wheres the plane!\r\nAs the two vehicles rocketed into the empty hangar, Becker desperately searched for an escape. There was none. The buildings rear ring, an high-minded sheet of corrugate metallic element, had no doors or windows. The taxi roared up beside him, and Becker looked left to see Hulohot raising his gun.\r\nReflex took over. Becker slammed down on his brakes. He barely slowed. The hangar floor was slick with oil. The Vespa went into a hurried skid.\r\nBeside him there was a deafening fink as the taxis brakes locked and the balding tires hydroplaned on the slippery surface. The car spun around in a cloud of smoke and burning rubber only inches to the left of Beckers skidding Vespa.\r\n at one time side by side, the two vehicles plane out of control on a collision course with the rear of the hangar. Becker desperately pumped his brakes, but there was no traction; it was like driving on ice. In front of him, the metal wall loomed. It was coming fast. As the taxi spiraled wildly beside him, Becker faced the wall and braced for the impact.\r\nThere was an earsplitting crash of steel and corrugated metal. But there was no pain. Becker found himself suddenly in the open air, still on his Vespa, bouncing across a grassy field. It was as if the hangars back wall had vanished before him. The taxi was still beside him, careening across the field. An enormous sheet of corrugated metal from the hangars back wall billowed off the taxis punk rocker and sailed over Beckers head.\r\nHeart racing, Becker gunned the Vespa and took off into the night.\r\nChapter 84\r\nJabba let out a contented sigh as he finished the last of his solder points. He switched off the iron, put down his penlight, and lay a moment in the darkness of the mainframe computer. He was beat. His neck hurt. indispensable work was always cramped, especially for a man of his size.\r\nAnd they just keep building them smaller, he mused.\r\nAs he closed his eyes for a well-deserved moment of relaxation, soul outside began pulling on his boots.\r\nâ€Å"Jabba! unhorse out here!” a woma ns voice yelled.\r\nMidge found me. He groaned.\r\nâ€Å"Jabba! Get out here!”\r\nReluctantly he slithered out. â€Å"For the bash of God, Midge! I told you-” But it was not Midge. Jabba looked up, surprised. â€Å"Soshi?”\r\nSoshi Kuta was a ninety-pound live wire. She was Jabbas righthand assistant, a razor-sharp Sys-Sec techie from MIT. She often worked late with Jabba and was the one phallus of his staff who seemed unintimidated by him. She glared at him and demanded, â€Å"Why the hell didnt you answer your phone? Or my page?”\r\nâ€Å"Your page,” Jabba repeated. â€Å"I thought it was-â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"Never mind. Theres something strange going on in the main databank.”\r\nJabba checked his watch. â€Å" obscure?” Now he was growing concerned. â€Å" usher out you be any more unique(predicate)?”\r\nTwo minutes later Jabba was spruce down the hall toward the databank.\r\n'

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