Unknown to James, Yvonne had dropped a tiny transmitter into his inside jacket pocket after she was dismissed by LaForgue. Stumbling into the conference room’s coat rack had not been accidental or careless.
Seated comfortably in the media room’s easy-chairs, Emily, Sven and Nathan reviewed the document that each had now read.
“It’s like reading a cake recipe with all the ingredients provided, what the final result will be, but no instructions on what to do, what the pan size should be or what temperature to set the oven,” Nathan said.
“Good analogy,” Emily said. Nathan was an excellent cook.
“Think there’s any truth to this,” Sven asked.
“If you want truth,” Nathan said. “The All-Saints Chapel is just down the street. This document is fact.”
“You really think so?” Emily asked. Over the years she had learned that Nathan’s instincts tended to be remarkably accurate.
“Whoever sent this, knew that it would be intercepted by one of the government’s security agencies,” Nathan suggested. “Thing is, we don’t know from where the data originated. Also, did whoever sent it have an idea that it would eventually end up at SkyTech. Somehow, I suspect so, and they certainly didn’t want it public knowledge. I’m inclined to believe that this is genuine.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes while each mulled over what Nathan had just speculated.
“Think you can unscramble any of those illustrations?” Nathan asked, looking at Emily.
“If they’re embedded into the document as something like a layered Photoshop image, probably,” she answered.
“If not?”
“Let’s see what we’re up against first,” she said.
“Do you know what impact information like this could have if it fell into the wrong hands,” Sven said, stating the obvious.
Emily looked at both with grave concern. “Catastrophic.”
Chapter Twelve
Emily was right, Sven deliberated. Catastrophic was by no means an understatement. He looked up at the digital clock mounted above the media room’s large TV. “I’m heading off now, if you don’t mind. Let’s discuss with JW first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll bring him up to speed if he gets back from his meeting before Emily and I leave,” Nathan said. “Or, I could just text him later.”
“Oh, before I forget,” Sven said to Emily. “Can I quickly put something on your computer?”
“Sure, what?”
“Follow me,” he said.
Sven connected to Emily’s computer and transferred a small file from his own hard-drive. “It’s a macro that will attach itself to your email rules,” Sven said. “Any mail sent by that graphics user group from which you unsubscribed will be bounced back to the sender anonymously. If they open the email, another two will arrive in their Inbox.”
“So, the emails just continuously double up?”
“Yes,” he said, with an underhanded smile. “And if they delete the email, it will instantly redirect itself from the Trash folder back to their Inbox.”
“Oh, that’s too funny,” she said, laughing. “Mean, but funny. So how do they get rid of it?”
“Highlight the email and press Delete in conjunction with the Shift key,” he said. “It gets wiped out permanently without first going into trash. All email apps have that feature.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said.
“Very few people do,” he responded. “You did tell me that the user group was nothing but a bunch of attention seekers. Well, now they’ll be getting lots of it, but from themselves.”
“It’s great having the world’s foremost hacker so conveniently at our disposal,” she said, giving his elbow a friendly squeeze.
“Ethical hacker,” Sven corrected. “Well, I’ve got to go.”
“See you in the morning, Sven,” Emily said. “Give my love to Kayla.”
Sven, a single parent, was out of the office at the same time each day so that he could pick up his seven-year-old daughter, Kayla, from his mother who provided after-school care.
As a result of unintentionally eating genetically engineered food from an experiment gone horribly wrong, Sven’s wife, Elena, died in her thirtieth week of pregnancy. Both knew the gender of the baby and had already decided on a name. The baby was saved, and Kayla sprouted into a lovely young girl. Except for her height and ash-blonde hair which she inherited from Sven, the rest of her features and mannerisms were all Elena.
Physical development was normal, as was Kayla’s health, but her ability in learning was marginally impeded◦– common with children born prematurely. What Kayla lacked in intellectual astuteness, she made up for with the trust and unconditional love she imparted. Sven doted on his daughter.
On occasion, Sven would use the IBM’s voice module; not the commands for which he used the mouse or keyboard, but for the vocal feedback. Saying nothing, Emily knew what he was doing when he plugged in his headset. He had adjusted the voice for his workstation to sound like Elena. Although Sven never expressed emotion, Emily could often see the depth of sadness in his soft eyes.
By the time the surgeons had diagnosed the true condition of Elena, it was already too late. It was a miracle of nature that the poison in her system never reached her unborn child. Sven still used his old smartphone onto which he had stored Elena’s final laboured and rasping voice message.
He had quickly popped out from the hospital to get a bite to eat when his phone rang. He let it go to voicemail. Probably marketing again, he thought. He picked up the message while his food was being prepared.◦– ‘Sven, my precious, Sven, (cough). Don’t make a choice between me and our unborn child. She must live and be given a chance in life (coughing, wheezing). I know you’ll love and protect her. Please come back to my bedside (laboured coughing, a short pause). Sven, come back. I need you to hold my hand… I’m dying.’
Food forgotten, Sven raced back to the hospital. By the time he got there, the surgeons had already removed Kayla by C-Section and placed her in an incubator. Elena was already delirious and never uttered another word. Hand firmly clasped in hers, Sven sat by her side for three days.
With a great deal of pain and effort, Elena tilted her head and looked deeply into Sven’s eyes.
He understood.
Her gaze became distant as the last breath of air escaped Elena’s tormented lungs. Sven felt her gentle fingers abruptly going limp.
“If there truly is an afterlife,” Sven whispered to her. “I hope that you find your way.” Tears welled up in his eyes. Sven never set foot into a church again.
The finality of the heart monitor still echoed unceasingly in his mind to this day.
On occasion, Nathan and Emily introduced Sven to single women, but his heart was still firmly pledged to the loving wife he had lost so needlessly. All his energy was devoted to Kayla and the stimulating development work he did for SkyTech. Sven demanded nothing else.
Chapter Thirteen
James glanced briefly at Emily, Sven and Nathan who were seated around the coffee table in his office. Regardless of what Trish LaForgue had cautioned about keeping yesterday’s meeting under wraps until further notice, he trusted these three more than anyone else.
Monica came through the door holding a tray of refreshments; Perrier water for James, hot chocolate for Emily and strong black coffee for Sven and Nathan. In her usual prudence, Monica put the plate of assorted cookies near Sven. He would have consumed most of them before this discussion was over.