The Lights of Tenth Street (63 page)

The satisfaction was clear in Tyson’s voice. “So we might get two million or more.”

“Two million.” Jordan rolled his tongue around the words. “Ten times more than Hiroshima and Nagasaki together.”

“And in such a simple way, too. No nukes to hide, no protected materials to steal, no massive money layouts. The victims even pay for the instrument of their destruction. Even if it’s not Super Bowl Sunday, the clients are still getting their money’s worth, boss.”

“I can’t wait to tell them.”

D
oug heard a tentative knock on his office door. “Come on in!” The tech-wizard poked his head around the door. “Uh—sir?” “Come in. Any progress?”

“Well, sir,” the kid said, laying the Palm Pilot on Doug’s desk. “Good news and bad news. The good news is that I got into the device—”

“Great! Good work!”

“Uh, thanks. But the bad news is that I can’t get into the file.”

“You found it?” Doug’s face was eager.

“Yeah—well, you said it was the last file in, right? Easy enough. It’s an audio file of some kind, but it was encrypted when it was downloaded. And
that
encryption is something I’ve never seen before. I don’t know how to crack it.”

“Well—thanks.” Doug looked down at the face of the Palm Pilot, now lit up as if ready to bare its secrets. “Which file is it, by the way?”

“Let me show you. This is one sophisticated device, by the way. All the bells and whistles, and more. Fascinating.” He looked up, curious. “Where’d you get it?”

“Long story.”

The kid used a stylus to navigate a few steps. “Here you go—this file, right here.”

Doug looked at it, reading aloud. “ ‘Speedcode.mp3.’ What does that mean?”

“No idea. Except it’s an audio file in MP3 format. But like I said—can’t open it.”

“Can I download it?”

“Yeah, you might be able to.” A grin crossed his face. “Well,
I
might be able to. I can try a few tricks to get around the system. You want me to try?”

“Please. But on my computer only.”

The intern nodded. “I’ll be back in a jiffy Let me get a hard-link cable.”

In minutes he was back, fiddling with the Palm Pilot and Doug’s computer, linking one to the other, working his magic on the keyboard. Doug stood and watched quietly.

“Okay … did it.” The kid looked up. “I put it in this document folder, see? You still can’t open it, but at least you have it on your hard drive.”

“Great. Thanks.” Doug peered at the screen. “Anyone else at the company you think might be able to break into the file?”

“Well … I probably shouldn’t say this, but there’s no one in my department that could do it better than me.”

“I see.” Doug could feel his lips twitching.

“But—say. You know who might be able to manage it is Jordan. He rocks.”

“Really? I guess it makes sense. He’s been doing computer security stuff since before you were born.”

“Yeah. But, I mean, I talked to him once in the cafeteria. I was fiddling with a laptop, trying to get something to work, and he walked right over and showed me how. He said I was the company’s rising star, and he had his eye on me. What a gas!”

“Well, I’d agree with him there.” Doug clapped him on the shoulder. “Please keep this between us. I’ll call you if I need anything more.”

When the intern left, Doug stood staring at his computer. Then he copied the file onto a disk and headed down the hall. Might as well make one more try.

He approached the secretary carefully. “Sorry, I’m back.”

She gave him a slight smile. “Sorry I was rude earlier.”

“Hard to be polite in the middle of a stampede, isn’t it?”

“You can say that again. But Jordan has cheered up a bit in the last half hour. He’s no less busy, though. You still need help?”

“I do.” Doug showed her the disk. “We did break into the Palm Pilot and retrieved the file we need, but that’s where we got stuck.”

The secretary took the disk from him. “And you want …?”

“Jordan’s probably the only person in the company who can break the encryption and get into that file—if anyone can, that is. We urgently need to see the contents. Actually,
hear
the contents, as it’s apparently an audio file.” Doug considered explaining, and then decided it would raise too many questions. “Please just ask him, if you can.”

“I’ll try.” She laid the disk in an inbox on her desk. “I’ll buzz you if he can take a minute.”

“Thanks.”

Doug headed back to his office, briefly stopping by Mary’s desk. She, too, was unusually stressed, her temper a bit frayed by all the last-minute work she had laid on Doug’s desk for review that he hadn’t gotten to yet.

“Mary, I promise I’ll get to all those files in the next hour.”

“Okay.” She looked like she was forcing a smile, her normally sweet nature set on edge. “I’d really like to get out of here before it gets too late.”

“Sorry.” Doug gave her a contrite smile. “Tell you what, keep everyone away for
an hour. I’ll turn off my cell phone, and punch out all this stuff.” He thought. “Unless it’s Jordan, they can all wait one hour.”

She smiled in relief. “Deal.”

An hour later, the secretary looked up as Jordan emerged from his office, tension jangling in his body like an electric wire. He picked up the few things from his inbox.

“What’s this?” He held up the disk.

“Doug dropped it off. He said there’s some encrypted file on there that they need to see, and he was wondering if you could break into it.”

Jordan dropped the disk back into the inbox. “I don’t have time for that today.”

“I know … I told Doug. But he said it was urgent. He’s come by twice.”

Jordan seemed hardly to be listening. “Too bad. Can’t do it.”

“I told him.” She shrugged. “He tried first with this Palm Pilot that he couldn’t get into, but then he must’ve gotten someone—”

“The what? What Palm Pilot?”

The secretary looked up, surprised. “I don’t know … just some encrypted Palm Pilot he wanted to get into. He must’ve gotten someone else to help because he was back an hour ago with that disk, saying he’d gotten into the device but couldn’t open the file. He was wondering if you could.”

Jordan picked up the disk, his eyes narrowed. “What sort of file?” His voice was slow, almost disbelieving.

“I don’t know, boss. Some type of audio file—”

Jordan darted back into the office and slammed the door. She made a rude noise under her breath and turned back to her work. That man could be so exasperating at times!

The phone rang at Mary’s desk. She answered, her voice rushed. “Doug Turner’s office.”

She listened for a moment, then picked up a pen. “I’m sorry, sir, but he’s asked me to hold all calls.” She winced and held the phone away from her ear. “Well, sir, he’s got some big deadlines today, that’s why he has his cell phone turned off. But I’ll get him the message and—”

She sighed in exasperation as the caller interrupted her again.

“Okay, FBI, I understand.” As she scribbled the message, another line rang on the phone. “Sir, I promise I’ll get him this as soon as I can … okay … okay.” The
man finally hung up and she punched in the next call, moving on to the next emergency.

Jordan hurried to his computer and slotted the disk in, muttering under his breath as he waited for the computer to bring up Windows Explorer, an internal debate raging.

It couldn’t be anything … could it? How on earth could it have any connection to what they were looking for?

Windows Explorer popped up, and he clicked on the A: drive to check the file name. His mouth dropped open. He looked at the file name and blinked his eyes. Speedcode.mp3.

His eyes went wild with fury, with haste. How had one of his
own people
come into possession of the code? He dialed a number with shaking fingers, got Tyson, and left him speechless.

They conferred in quiet, urgent sentences, Tyson dispatching his henchmen even as they talked.

Jordan buzzed his secretary, keeping his voice pleasant, level. “Could you buzz Mary and tell her that I’d like to see Doug down here?”

“Will do, Chief.”

Caliel listened to the call come over Mary’s intercom, listened to her ask Doug down to Jordan’s office.

Lots of others were listening, too. The building looked as if light and dark, good and evil were split down the middle.

A shining cadre of great beings flanked Doug’s office. His whole end of the hallway was bathed in crystal light, luminescent with the fierce presence of stern-faced warriors.

Beyond Mary’s desk, the office grew dark, shadowy. Great dark beings hissed at the shining interlopers. The whole rest of the hallway was nearly black in shadow, only a thin no-man’s-land separating deepest dark from shining white.

And they all listened as Mary told Doug of Jordan’s summons.

As Doug emerged from the office, Caliel swept a giant hand over the contents of Mary’s desk. She brushed her elbow over the stack of messages, and they fell to the floor. Doug passed her desk and had taken two steps down the hall when Mary saw the message slip.

“Doug!”

Doug turned, irritated. He had way too much to do—he couldn’t keep jumping from task to task.

Mary held out a slip of paper, and Doug retraced his steps to take it.

“I figured I should tell you … this guy from the FBI called. He wouldn’t say what about, just asked you to call him immediately. He seemed to think it was critical.”

Doug wavered, then hurried back into his office. Over his shoulder he called back to Mary.

“If Jordan calls, tell him I’m on the phone and I’ll be right there.”

The dark creatures hissed and spat at the angels, now completely prevented from seeing or hearing what was delaying Doug. Even their unearthly sight could not penetrate the zone of painful light. Their eyes were red with fury. So close—so close! Well, they were still so close. Several of them sped off to take a look and came back with the report. Tyson’s men were only a few minutes away. They would make quick work of this measly person who insisted on throwing a wrench in the works. They whispered the news among themselves, their eyes gleaming with expectation.

Caliel issued orders, and his frontline warriors advanced, faces fierce, pressing the zone of light just a little farther down the hallway … a little farther. The dark armies made threats, but none of them seemed inclined to be the first to take on one of the warriors. They backed away slowly … slowly.

Caliel eyed the space … just a little more … a little more.

“Halt!”

That should be enough. He called forward several watch-care warriors, briefed them, then assigned others to various posts. He watched as they sped off.

The heavenly host was infected with a firm exigency from above, each angel keenly aware of how much hung on every move, every step in the battle from this point forward.

Doug listened with alarm to the voice on the other end of the phone.

“Mr. Turner, I don’t have time to explain. You must get that Palm Pilot down to the FBI immediately! And bring those girls!”

“But they’re at home—”

“Don’t waste time going and getting them. Just tell them to get down here!”

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t explain over the phone. Leave your office immediately and turn on your cell phone. I’ll call you back in two minutes and give you directions as you go. Just head toward downtown!” He spewed out a phone number. “If something happens, call me back at this direct number! Get going!”

Doug scribbled the number as the phone clicked off in his ear. He grabbed the Palm Pilot, his cell phone and coat, then took several precious seconds to fiddle with his computer. He raced out the door, stuffing things in his pockets.

Mary looked up as he raced by. “What—?”

“I can’t explain! I’ll try to call you from my cell phone in a few minutes.”

“Okay—” her words were lost behind him as he headed for the elevators, midway down the hallway from his office.

The angels’ cordon was holding. The dark forces stirred, muttering, but they couldn’t see! They couldn’t see Doug leave his office, couldn’t see him putting things in his pockets … heading out of the building. Several brilliant warriors escorted him down the elevator and to the parking lot, covering him as he raced out of the security gates and pulled onto the highway.

The dark forces still milled around the executive hallway, not quite looking at the blazing, impenetrable zone of light, impatient for Doug to emerge and head into their trap.

Doug’s cell phone rang in his pocket, and he fished it out, driving with one hand.

“Yes!”

“Directions!” The special agent gave him simple, short directions. “Pass those along to the girls, then call me back.”

“They’re coming from a different direction. We should be there about the same time—maybe fifteen minutes?”

“Great.” The line went dead.

Doug made the call and stunned Sherry. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he finished, “but Ronnie and Tiffany need to get down here right away.”

“Okay.” He could hear Sherry calling them in the background, hear their answering queries.

“Give them my cell phone number so we can coordinate where to meet and I can give them more information as we go.”

“Ronnie’s cell battery is almost out. So many people from the club were trying to call her that she finally turned it off.”

“Lord,” Doug said, “extend the life of that battery. And protect those girls!”

“I’ll get them on the way.”

Doug hesitated. “I’m wondering if you and the kids should join us, too.”

There was a long pause. “Are you worried about something? Vance and Jo are arriving here any minute to help make dinner.”

“I don’t know. I’m probably overreacting. You go ahead and stay there. I’ll call you, though, if I hear anything to change my mind!”

“Deal.” They could both hear the sound of someone beeping in on Doug’s phone. “You get that. I’ll get the girls on the road.”

“Okay.” Doug pressed a button. “Hello?”

“Did you get them?”

Doug recognized the special agent’s voice. “They’re on their way.”