Dan Brown - Digital Fortess

Susan waited, straining her eyes into the darkness, hoping Strathmore wasn’t hurt. After what seemed like an eternity, she whispered, “Commander?”

Even as she said it, she realized her mistake. An instant later Hale’s odor welled up behind her. She turned too late. Without warning, she was twisting, gasping for air. She found herself crushed in a familiar headlock, her face against Hale’s chest.

“My balls are killing me.” Hale panted in her ear.

Susan’s knees buckled. The stars in the dome began to spin above her.

Hale clamped down on Susan’s neck and yelled into the darkness. “Commander, I’ve got your sweetheart. I want out!”

His demands were met with silence.

Hale’s grip tightened. “I’ll break her neck!”

A gun cocked directly behind them. Strathmore’s voice was calm and even. “Let her go.”

Susan winced in pain. “Commander!”

Hale spun Susan’s body toward the sound. “You shoot and you’ll hit your precious Susan. You ready to take that chance?”

Strathmore’s voice moved closer. “Let her go.”

“No way. You’ll kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone.”

“Oh, yeah? Tell that to Chartrukian!”

Strathmore moved closer. “Chartrukian’s dead.”

“No shit. You killed him. I saw it!”

“Give it up, Greg,” Strathmore said calmly.

Hale clutched at Susan and whispered in her ear, “Strathmore pushed Chartrukian‑I swear it!”

“She’s not going to fall for your divide‑and‑conquer technique,” Strathmore said, moving closer. “Let her go.”

Hale hissed into the darkness, “Chartrukian was just a kid, for Christ’s sake! Why’d you do it? To protect your little secret?”

Strathmore stayed cool. “And what little secret is that?”

“You know damn‑fucking‑well what secret that is! Digital Fortress!”

“My, my,” Strathmore muttered condescendingly, his voice like an iceberg. “So you do know about Digital Fortress. I was starting to think you’d deny that too.”

“Fuck you.”

“A witty defense.”

“You’re a fool,” Hale spat. “For your information, TRANSLTR is overheating.”

“Really?” Strathmore chuckled. “Let me guess‑I should open the doors and call in the Sys‑Secs?”

“Exactly,” Hale fired back. “You’d be an idiot not to.”

This time Strathmore laughed out loud. “That’s your big play? TRANSLTR’s overheating, so open the doors and let us out?”

“It’s true, dammit! I’ve been down to the sublevels! The aux power isn’t pulling enough freon!”

“Thanks for the tip,” Strathmore said. “But TRANSLTR’s got automatic shutdown; if it’s overheating, Digital Fortress will quit all by itself.”

Hale sneered. “You’re insane. What the fuck do I care if TRANSLTR blows? The damn machine should be outlawed anyway.”

Strathmore sighed. “Child psychology only works on children, Greg. Let her go.”

“So you can shoot me?”

“I won’t shoot you. I just want the pass‑key.”

“What pass‑key?”

Strathmore sighed again. “The one Tankado sent you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar!” Susan managed. “I saw Tankado’s mail in your account!”

Hale went rigid. He spun Susan around. “You went in my account?”

“And you aborted my tracer,” she snapped.

Hale felt his blood pressure skyrocket. He thought he’d covered his tracks; he had no idea Susan knew what he’d done. It was no wonder she wasn’t buying a word he said. Hale felt the walls start to close in. He knew he could never talk his way out of that one‑not in time. He whispered to her in desperation, “Susan . . . Strathmore killed Chartrukian!”

“Let her go,” the commander said evenly. “She doesn’t believe you.”

“Why should she?” Hale fired back. “You lying bastard! You’ve got her brainwashed! You only tell her what suits your needs! Does she know what you really plan to do with Digital Fortress?”

“And what’s that?” Strathmore taunted.

Hale knew what he was about to say would either be his ticket to freedom or his death warrant. He took a deep breath and went for broke. “You plan to write a back door in Digital Fortress.”

The words met with a bewildered silence from the darkness. Hale knew he had hit a bull’s‑eye.

Apparently Strathmore’s unflappable cool was being put to the test. “Who told you that?” he demanded, his voice rough around the edges.

“I read it,” Hale said smugly, trying to capitalize on the change of momentum. “In one of your brainstorms.”

“Impossible. I never print my brainstorms.”

“I know. I read it directly off your account.”

Strathmore seemed doubtful. “You got into my office?”

“No. I snooped you from Node 3.” Hale forced a self‑assured chuckle. He knew he’d need all the negotiating skills he’d learned in the marines to get out of Crypto alive.

Strathmore edged closer, the Berretta leveled in the darkness. “How do you know about my back door?”

“I told you, I snooped your account.”

“Impossible.”

Hale forced a cocky sneer. “One of the problems of hiring the best, Commander‑sometimes they’re better than you.”

“Young man,” Strathmore seethed, “I don’t know where you get your information, but you’re in way over your head. You will let Ms. Fletcher go right now or I’ll call in Security and have you thrown in jail for life.”

“You won’t do it,” Hale stated matter‑of‑factly. “Calling Security ruins your plans. I’ll tell them everything.” Hale paused. “But let me out clean, and I’ll never say a word about Digital Fortress.”

“No deal,” Strathmore fired back. “I want the pass‑key.”

“I don’t have any fucking pass‑key!”

“Enough lies!” Strathmore bellowed. “Where is it?”

Hale clamped down on Susan’s neck. “Let me out, or she dies!”

* * *

Trevor Strathmore had done enough high‑stakes bargaining in his life to know that Hale was in a very dangerous state of mind. The young cryptographer had painted himself into a corner, and a cornered opponent was always the most dangerous kind‑desperate and unpredictable. Strathmore knew his next move was a critical one. Susan’s life depended on it‑and so did the future of Digital Fortress.

Strathmore knew the first thing he had to do was release the tension of the situation. After a long moment, he sighed reluctantly. “Okay, Greg. You win. What do you want me to do?”

Silence. Hale seemed momentarily unsure how to handle the commander’s cooperative tone. He let up a bit on Susan’s neck.

“W‑well . . .” he stammered, his voice wavering suddenly. “First thing you do is give me your gun. You’re both coming with me.”

“Hostages?” Strathmore laughed coldly. “Greg, you’ll have to do better than that. There are about a dozen armed guards between here and the parking lot.”

“I’m not a fool,” Hale snapped. “I’m taking your elevator. Susan comes with me! You stay!”

“I hate to tell you this,” Strathmore replied, “but there’s no power to the elevator.”

“Bullshit!” Hale snapped. “The lift runs on power from the main building! I’ve seen the schematics!”

“We tried it already,” Susan choked, trying to help. “It’s dead.”

“You’re both so full of shit, it’s incredible.” Hale tightened his grip. “If the elevator’s dead, I’ll abort TRANSLTR and restore power.”

“The elevator takes a password,” Susan managed feistily.

“Big deal.” Hale laughed. “I’m sure the commander will share. Won’t you, Commander?”