Stephanie Doyle - Calculated Risk

Sabrina sat at the computer and had to connect to the Internet via a traditional phone line. The library had what they called a research center, which translated to a medium-size room filled with three long tables that held three aging PCs on each table. She and Quinlan chose the table farthest from the door and the last computer to the right. They were the only ones in the room and pretty much the only two people in the building at this hour, other than the librarian, of course.

The sound of the modem ringing faintly had Sabrina rolling her eyes. “Some research center. I’m dialing out on a 56K modem. I might as well be back in the stone age. They need a DSL.”

“Be grateful for what we have.”

Finally, a standard MSN browser blinked into focus. Sabrina didn’t waste time with the search engine, but immediately went to the Web-address line at the top and started to type.

“You’re kidding me,” Quinlan said as he leaned over her shoulder.

“Never let it be said the man doesn’t have a twisted sense of humor.”

The Disney World logo came into focus, then slowly inch-by-inch the Web page revealed itself on the screen.

“You’re going to contact the world’s most vicious terrorist through the Disney home page?”

“Not exactly the home page. The message board.”

“Hmm, excuse me. Are you finding everything you need?”

Together they lifted their heads at the voice. They had company. The librarian. A stereotypical elderly woman with her gray hair pulled tightly into a bun, she had an annoying habit of poking her head into the computer room every few minutes and asking them if they needed any help.

Sabrina couldn’t tell if the woman was bored or perhaps suspicious. She imagined she looked like hell and Quinlan was no fashion plate in blacks slacks and a ski jacket.

“We’re fine,” Sabrina told the woman, but she continued to linger.

Then Quinlan’s phone rang.

“Oh, sir, I’m terribly sorry, but we don’t allow the use of cell phones in the library.” She pointed to a sign next to the door that showed a cell phone in the center of a circle with a red line painted through it. “Too distracting for people trying to read and work, you understand.”

She waited for a minute so she could see that he had actually turned the phone off, before she shuffled away.

Sabrina actually giggled. “Our national security system thwarted by a librarian. You’ve got to love it.”

“I’ll take this outside.” He made a motion as if to leave, then stopped, his eyes watching her as the screen continued to load.

“Alarm go off again?” she wondered aloud, feeling his indecision.

She wished she could have said that the look in his eyes was concern over leaving her on her own. But Quinlan knew better than anyone that she could take care of herself. She thought about the next few hours and how they were going to manage Kahsan’s capture or kill when it was clear he still didn’t completely trust her.

He was trying; she supposed she should give him that.

Perhaps bringing him with her wasn’t the best move. His suspicion could end up getting them both killed. In the end, though, it came down to the odds. Two against one was always better than one on one. So she sucked in her breath, gritted her teeth and tried to pacify him.

“All I’m going to do is give him the location you gave me. And I’m going to be doing that in code, so it’s not like you would have been able to follow it even if I was passing on a secret warning.”

Grimly, he turned and left the room with the two-way phone clutched in his hand.

As she stared at the slowly processing monitor she thought back to earlier in the hotel room. He’d been the first to kiss her. He’d been the first to break.

Deliberately, she ran her tongue over her lips, still tasting him there. The urgency in his kiss had been on the point of desperation. As though he’d waited as long as was humanly possible for the contact he needed.

A man didn’t kiss a woman that way when he believed she ultimately would betray him. At least not a man like Quinlan. She was going to have to count on that. She was going to have to have faith that when push came to shove, he was going to believe her. Believe in her.

It might be the only thing that saved their lives.

Finally the message board appeared on the screen and Sabrina logged on with the name she’d given Kahsan earlier. Minnietothetenth was welcomed back and a white box appeared ready for her to type. A primitive but effective coding system allowed her to embed a message into the text. Anyone on the board would read about a recent vacationer who was looking to make contact with a couple she ran into at Pleasure Island, wanting to stay in touch and delivering the promised recipe for her famous chicken casserole.

Kahsan would read something else.

Just as she hit the send button, Quinlan returned. She leaned back in the hard chair.

“Is it done?”

“I sent it. How often he’s patrolling the message board, I don’t know. Where he is and how long it will take him to get to the location? I don’t know that, either.”

“You didn’t set up a method for him to reply?”

She shook her head. “No point. The plan was for me to pass the address then go along with the agent to the location and simply stall until he got there. But he knows I would only be able to stall for so long before someone got suspicious.”

“And you passed along the number of agents with you,” he assumed.

“I told him one,” she answered.

Quinlan swore softly. “He’ll never believe that. He’ll never buy that we only sent one agent to pick you up and deliver you to Arnold’s computer.”

“I told him you. He knows you. He’ll believe that.”

“Maybe,” he allowed.

Sabrina had more confidence. “All of this hinges on the bluff. If he believes that I’m doing this for the money, then he has to believe I’ve kept our contact secret. Since the government isn’t expecting him, there would be no reason to send me with a troop of spooks to Arnold’s cabin. One actually sounds more plausible.”

Quinlan nodded. “Plus, if he’s smart, he’ll check the area upon his arrival and find nothing. No traps, no ambush. That will work to our advantage, as well.”

“And leave us completely exposed.”

He met her eyes. “Worried I’ll miss?”

“No. You know what they say…fourth time is a charm. What did Krueger say?”

“Before or after the shouting?”

“Either.”

“He’s sending reinforcements, but it will take them time before they get here. Let’s move.”

“Sir, you have a message.” The driver had lowered the partition between the front and back seats. He held a cell phone up and Kahsan leaned forward to take it.

“You don’t mind if I take this, do you?” he asked his fellow passenger. Since the question was rhetorical he took the phone and read the text message that was appearing on the small monitor. He was forced to scroll it a few times before he understood the coded message. Then he cleared it and put in a set of coordinates. He passed the phone back through the partition.

“Plug those coordinates into the GPS and get us to that location immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

The partition slid back into place and Kahsan leaned back in the deep leather cushions. He smiled serenely at his guest. “Well, you’ll be happy to know everything is going according to plan. My dear friend Ms. Masters is cooperating as expected and for an added bonus we’ll be running into an old rival of mine. It will be good to see Mr. Quinlan again. A shame I’ll have to kill him immediately after that, but it can’t be helped.”

The passenger said nothing.