David Dun - Unacceptable Risk

When Benoit awoke, her mouth felt dry as dust. The first thing she saw were plastic tubes hanging all around her. As she turned her head to the left, she noticed her arm and shoulder in a giant cast and her hand above her, off the bed. The terrible ache came from her shoulder. By her bed stood a woman she did not recognize. The room was unsteady. She still had the awful headache. At once she remembered the box in the floor; then she was running and they were shooting. She felt so tired-exhausted, really. She closed her eyes.

When she next opened her eyes, she tried to put things to gether. There had been a hamper and a large crate in a store. She had been with Gaudet and in the river. Somehow it didn't seem to fit. The woman next to the bed was still there, al though now she was asleep. It must have been a long time. As she lay there, things began to become less elusive in her mind, and suddenly she remembered coming from France and prison, the government job, Baptiste and the admiral, the meeting with Sam and Spring. Georges.

"Cordyceps," she whispered.

The woman by the bed jerked and her eyes flashed open.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm Jill. I'm with Sam, but officially I'm your sister. Outside are the French SDECE and the FBI. Sam's people found you in the warehouse. During the shoot- out."

"Jean-Baptiste Sourriaux. Is he here?"

"No, a Rene Denard seems to be in charge."

"Don't let him in!"

"Yes. I understand."

"We have to get out of here."

"That will be tough."

"Cement trucks. Tell Sam that Cordyceps is cement trucks and helicopters."

"Got it."

"Did you get the laptop?"

"Yes."

"There is a code. Let me see. The year of the French rev olution, 1789. Then the telephone city code for my sister in Bordeaux, fourteen. Next one year after I was born, but one decade off. So 1977. Next it is… let me see… oh yes… it is BMW backward so WMB… then it is Gaudet's age transposed, so it is fifty-four instead of forty-five. Next it is the number of my driver's license. Gaudet did that because he used to be fond of me. I don't remember the number on my driver's license, but you should be able to look it up. Last it is Trotsky's birthday. He was born in 1959 on the day be fore Christmas. Put those numbers together, and if I have re membered correctly, you can enter a folder on the laptop where you will find another much more complicated code. Use that to get into Gaudet's computer, if he hasn't shut it off. I doubt he has because it's about to release a major com puter virus."

The woman called Jill pulled out a cell phone.

"Grogg, take this down. There is a password to a folder in the laptop." Benoit helped Jill repeat what she had told her. "Call me back when you've cracked it… Tell us your assessment of what we can do and we'll call Sam." Then there was a pause. "I don't care what you have to do to hide it. Tell them you have to take a shit and smuggle it into the rest- room." Another pause. "Okay, well, if that won't work, then take advantage of their boredom. But just do it." Another pause. "Yes, you can bring in gourmet food. Anything. Wine, whatever. Get it downloaded to Big Brain, give them the wrong code, and get back to our offices."

Jill hung up and dialed again.

"Ernie, it's cement trucks and helicopters." A pause. "Yeah, good. That's a hell of a lot of helicopters, but she says definitely also cement trucks." Then after a moment. "I have another call. Yes?" A pause. "That's all the French know? Shit, Figgy, you'd think they'd know more than that. What the hell good does it do to know Gaudet is going to do some thing in the next sixty hours?" A pause. "No. Benoit's still unconscious." She gave Benoit a wink. "We'll call you the minute she wakes up." A pause. "Figgy, of course we'll let the SDECE interview her, but only when the doctors say she's ready." Another pause. "I can't promise that. Hell, I probably won't even be here." A pause. "I gotta go, Figgy. Can't talk now. Sam's calling." A pause. "He's in New York looking for Gaudet. Where else would he be?" Jill discon nected. "Lying bastard."

Next Jill dialed Sam's satellite and left a message.

Sam turned on the sat phone every thirty minutes on the half hour when he could. This time he got an immediate incoming call.

"What's happening?"

"We got her. She's alive and awake. The vector is to be delivered in cement trucks and helicopters. The FBI found more helicopters painted like state police choppers and fitted with atomizers. A lot more. They've arrested some pilots. Now they're going after the cement trucks."

"Good."

"Benoit also gave us a way into Gaudet's server. Grogg's working on it. He's gotta get around the government guys."

"I'm gonna cover us the best I can. Tell him to call me when he gets it figured. If I'm unavailable, then release the antivirus."

"The government has forbidden us."

"I've cleared it with the vice president and the head of the FBI."

"Is that true?"

"For you it's true. Do what I say."

Thankfully, Jill didn't argue.

Next Sam did call the office of the director of the FBI and spoke to an assistant director with connections to Homeland Security.

"I need something."

"Go ahead."

"If I do something brilliant that works, I want you to say that the director gave his approval. Likewise, Homeland Security."

"Take credit for something brilliant that's already worked? What are we talking about?"

"Saving the free markets."

"This is the antivirus for the Internet, isn't it?"

Sam said nothing.

"We'll look into it. You got that?"

"Got it."

That meant they would more than likely do it. They wouldn't call him back or discuss it further.

With that business done, he turned his attention to the mountain. It was nearly dark and snowing hard. Fortunately, the wind had picked up and it was creating a blizzard. The hunters would try to bed down or get under cover, probably under the big trees. Now was the time to start back up the hill. Without a light he crept along, weaving back and forth across the ridge. Most of them would be just below the ridge on the leeward side-all but Gaudet, who would see the mistake in doing the obvious. Sam was certain they had n't made it to the chasm; they would still believe that the task was to climb and to catch the group high on the moun tain.

Sam kept low to the ground and moved at a snail's pace. In the dark and these conditions he would have to feel whoever was ahead. Then he saw the first fire. It surprised him. Yes, it was bitter cold on the mountain and these men weren't up to the elements. But to lose the advantage of surprise? He could smell the overconfidence.

As Sam crept to within thirty feet, he tried to figure how he might take out all five men around it without being shot. They sat close to their guns and looked jumpy.

Sam settled down and waited, the cold penetrating his clothes, making him miserable. First his ears started to ache; then things started tingling like they were going to sleep. A bit of a snowbank began building next to a log and he tried crawling into it and under the log for some insulation. Under the log he found moss and leaves and packed it in his cloth ing. It helped to insulate and cut the cold further. The part of him that was in the snowbank was 32 degrees Fahrenheit outside of his clothing. Inside his clothing, with the leaves and moss, it was considerably warmer. The part of him that was outside the snow was subject to windchill and below-freezing temperatures, so he did all he could to get himself covered in the white powder. After an hour the men near the fire were nodding off, but they frequently stirred because of the bitter cold and the need to throw on more wood. One man had his back near the fire and he appeared to be in a deep sleep.