‘Some. I’m restricted to areas specifically related to my project and have no outside access at all.’
‘We won’t need it. Are you logged in to the network?’
‘Da.’
‘Good, then I’ll go to work.’
Using a mix of mouse clicks and keyed-in commands, Kilkenny opened up a window on the laptop’s color active-matrix screen. The faint sound of a telephone being dialed pulsed out of the laptop’s speakers before Kilkenny turned off the sound.
‘What was that?’ Avvakum asked.
‘Nothing much, just a little communications program.’
In silence, the laptop completed dialing the preprogrammed sequence that Kilkenny had requested, initiating a satellite phone call from its internal modem to the network switchboard at MARC in Ann Arbor.
The MARC network answered, and the two machines electronically shook hands — exchanged communications protocols — verifying that they could trade information without difficulty. Once the two machines synchronized themselves, the window filled with the MARC network logo and requested Kilkenny’s user name and password. He typed in both and logged on to the MARC network.
A message appeared across the top of the window.
NOLAN, YOU READY TO GO TO WORK?
Kilkenny smiled. YOU BET, he typed in reply.
Kilkenny knew that on the other side of the world, Grin had the Spyder primed and ready to attack Orlov’s computer network. The window went blank. Kilkenny minimized it, making all but a small icon disappear from the screen. Now that the Spyder controlled the connection between the two computers, there was no reason to waste time displaying what it was doing.
‘Well, now that our computers are all talking to one another, I guess we could try and decode some more of Johann Wolff’s notebooks.’
From a new window, Kilkenny tapped into Avvakum’s computer and downloaded one of the scanned image files from Wolff’s notebooks that had been stolen five days earlier. He brought up the decoding program and selected the image file for processing.
‘That’s all there is to it; you just pick the encrypted file and tell my program to translate it.’
Avvakum watched eagerly as the computer slowly, character by character, transformed the blocks of unintelligible characters back into the thoughts of the long-dead physicist.
Kilkenny sat back in his chair. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Back in Orlov’s office, when you read the pages I’d already decoded, what did you find?’
‘You haven’t read them?’ she asked incredulously.
‘Not really. I don’t speak much German, and even less quantum physics. I assume you’re fluent in both.’
Avvakum smiled and turned her head, embarrassed by the compliment and the attention.
‘The work of your colleague, Ted Sandstrom, is brilliant. He has made remarkable strides with his experiments, and his discovery may well change how many things are done. From what little I’ve seen of the work of Johann Wolff, I believe he was developing theories that promise to open a new way of thinking about the physical universe.’
59
‘All right, we’re in!’ Grin announced as the Spyder took control of VIO FinProm’s computer network.
Inside the MARC Computer Center, Mosley walked out of Grin’s office, which was serving as his local base of operations, and over to the semicircular console where Grin sat surrounded by keyboards and computer screens.
‘What’s happening?’ Mosley asked.
‘Nolan just opened the door into Orlov’s network. Our Spyder has latched on and taken control of network security. Right about now, it should begin issuing a series of new user log-ins and passwords to some friends of mine who are going to help us out today. These new log-ins will have unlimited access and control over pieces of Orlov’s computer networks. Every other user’s privileges on those networks will be knocked down to read-only status.’
The window displaying the Spyder’s actions showed a series of new user identities being created and E-mail messages being sent by the owners of those new identities. One of the monitors on Grin’s console announced, ‘You’ve got mail.’
Grin opened the message and scribbled down his new user name and password. He then switched to a different window on the screen and keyed the information in to a waiting log-in prompt.
‘Cal, I’m in FinProm’s accounting system.’
The third monitor on Grin’s console began filling with text as his closest friends in the hacker community began to report in. Grin turned to study his cohorts’ progress.
‘Jazz is in Orlov’s petrochemical company, and Hemmy says he’s digging into the television stuff. Way to go! Dredd, my man, has VIO shipping by the short and curlies. Oh my — Surfgrape, I bow before your greatness.’
‘What did Surfgrape do?’
‘Surfgrape, bless her heart, has just broken into Orlov’s Swiss bank accounts and is downloading his transaction history for the past decade. She’s freezing accounts as she finds them. VIO FinProm is in a world of hurt.’
‘It still scares me that there are people who can do this.’
‘Yeah, but aren’t you glad me and my crew are on your side? Fly, my pretties, fly!’ Grin shouted excitedly as updates on the electronic assault on Orlov’s business empire scrolled in.
60
Dawson pored over the collection of maps and satellite photos that were strewn across the chart table of the Sharon S. Notations made in water-based marker indicated the positions of his men near the remote hunting cabin.
Angel had reported ‘feet dry’ twenty minutes earlier, transitioning from the water phase of the mission to land. Their stealthy approach from the bay up the Rifle River had apparently gone undetected by the Tangos.
Once they’d reached the shore, the SEALs had disconnected their masks from the Draeger rebreathers. A rotary valve closed off the dual hoses, preventing any contamination of the rebreather’s CO2 scrubber. Angel approached the cabin in water that varied from knee to waist deep. From their last report, Angel was in position along the levee east of the cabin.
Dawson’s satellite phone, which lay near the corner of the chart table, emitted a soft, pulsating sound.
‘Dawson,’ he answered.
‘Admiral, it’s Grin. Nolan is on-line.’
‘Good. Everything going okay?’
‘Yeah, the connection is clean, and we’ve got access to all the goodies. Does it look like they’re going to release Kelsey and Elli?’
‘No,’ Dawson replied with near absolute certainty.
Grin said nothing for a moment, finding himself at a loss for words. ‘Good luck, Admiral.’
‘Thanks,’ Dawson replied sympathetically before ending the call.
Dawson gazed down at the charts. The cabin was situated near the shore of the bay on an elevated patch of ground surrounded by an earthen levee. Water from the river flooded the surrounding area, creating lightly wooded wetlands ideal for hunting migrating ducks and geese.
God, the two-man sniper team, had worked their way on foot to the cabin from the adjacent Ogemaw State Forest. A knoll, approximately two thousand yards from the cabin across a wide expanse of cattails and marsh grass, provided the snipers with an unobstructed view of the northern and western sides of the rustic, one-story building.
‘Heaven to God,’ Dawson called out.
‘This is God. I read you, Heaven.’
‘Say status of Halos.’
‘Halos are unchanged. Repeat, Halos are unchanged.’