Донна Эндрюс - Access denied

"Ready?" Claudia said.

"Do we have a plan?" Maude asked. "What if he's not alone, for example?"

"What ifhes armed?" Tim asked

"Maybe only one of us should approach first." Maude said.

"Let's circle around and go in from the garage side," Claudia said. "There's only one bathroom window facing that way, and it's curtained for privacy. From that side, we can probably get to the front door without being spotted."

"Makes sense to me," Maude said. "You lead the way till we get to the front door, and then I'll take over."

"Right," Claudia said. She slipped into the woods.

"Sam, you've got the two-way radio, right?"

Sam held it up.

"Mine's in my pocket. If you spot any danger, just hit the call button and I'll get the tone."

"Like this?" Sam said. Maude's pocket beeped slightly.

"Roger. Here we go."

Maude set off after Claudia. Tim brought up the rear.

"Be careful," I said, as they left the car behind.

Waiting in the car with Sam was better than nothing.

Not a whole lot better.

Technically I wasn't in the car, of course — only logged in though a wireless modem to the specially equipped laptop, which sat on the passenger seat beside Sam. I'd had Casey attach two high-pawered directional microphones and two tiny, digital video cameras, to make me feel less like a fifth wheel as I waited.

I still felt left out.

And highly vulnerable. I don't know why. Perhaps it was being outdoors. Actually in the convertible with the top down, but it certainly felt like the outdoors to me. The outdoors still made me nervous. I suddenly realized that perhaps that was one reason for my recent obsession with gardening. It could let me get to know the outdoors under controlled circumstances. Demystify it. Tame it. But maybe it u asn 't working, because out here in this wooded neighborhood, my anxiety about the outdoors didn't lessen.

Sam didn't seem bothered. She was slouched down in the driver's seat, watching through Tim's night-vision binoculars.

"I can see them," she said, when Maude, Tim, and Claudia had been gone nine minutes. "They're crossing the driveway."

I spotted them, and we sat in silence, her binoculars and my camera lenses glued to the three dark figures as they slid along the side of the house.

It seemed rather anticlimactic when they finally reached the front porch and rang the doorbell. Anticlimactic and more than a little dangerous. Maybe their theory was that people with sufficient manners to ring doorbells didn't look dangerous enough to shoot.

I hoped they were right.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief when they safely reached the front porch of the house. Irrational relief, maybe. They had no guarantee that Evans wouldn't shoot through the front door. But there was something dis-armingly normal about standing on the porch.

"Now remember," Maude said. "When we get in, Tim, you go to my left if possible while Claudia goes to my right. Flank me."

Tim nodded.

"And try not to look menacing," Maude added, raising her hand to the doorbell.

Menacing? Tim blinked in surprise. He wasn't sure he could look menacing if he tried.

Maybe that part was aimed at Claudia.

Maude rang the doorbell. No answer. She knocked on the door.

"We know you're in there, Kyle," she called.

"Who's there?" came a muffled voice.

"Friends. I know you got our e-mail. We can help you."

"Go away."

"We're not going away," Maude said. "You can talk to us,

or we can call the police and you can talk to them." ..: I ualk to you!"

"Because maybe we can help you."

A long pausr Maude was opening het mouth to speak again when they heard the rattle of a chain being unhooked. The click of a deadbolt lock. The door opened slightly.

"That's him-," Sam said-

"Kyle Evans? Are you sw

"Yeah, doesn't it look like h: >:se pictu*\

"I :hink so. but I'm still analyzing." I said. "I admit. I'm not as good as a human at identifying individual people. "

"What, do we humans all look alike to m said, u

laugh that sounded more cynical than amused.

"No, the problem is you don't look enough like yourselves sometimes. *' / said. "I have to start with a static picture taken eighteen months ago under one set of lighting conditions, and compare it with a moving image seen under very different lighting conditions, and then make allowances for a wide range of possible alterations in shape. color, hair configuration, and. since we're talking about a man. : ence or absence of facial hair — all the changes that could hate occurred in the intervening period. It's difficult. And yet you humans do it quite effectively, using only a fraction of the processing pou trli

"Nice to knou • u e still do a feu » things bt I said. "Oka).

the,

The door closed behind them. I scanned the house's u indows. but all were blocked by blinds or curtains. I boosted the volume or:

phones as far as possible, but all I could he« i insect and frog noises and the occasional sound of something mo: in the woods around us — nothing from the b on trying to filter out the nearby sounds.

"I >:jte waii: ; said, after a feu seconds.

"H m long

I heard a small noise, but Sam didn't ansu

Access Denied 221

/ was about to turn one of my cameras to look at her when something knocked it askew. I righted it again and spotted Sam's arm lying limp, palm up, on the seat beside my laptop. I swiveled the camera left and saw that Sam's head had dropped down and was tilted to the left. Her eyes were closed. I've seen Tim and Maude look like that when they fall asleep sitting up, but they don't usually sound so awake one minute and doze off the next. Something was wrong.

I could see the two-way radio Sam was supposed to use in case of danger lying on the seat near me. But since I had only a normal laptop, with no peripherals for manipulating the world around me, it might as well have been miles away for all the good it did me.

Then the picture in both my cameras shook and veered — someone was picking up the laptop. I realized a nanosecond in advance that someone had unfastened the battery latch, and then the battery popped out, blanking sight and sound.

I panicked, briefly — irrationally. Even though I wasn't, technically, in the laptop, I was so focused on what was happening there in the woods that suddenly losing all sight and sound there was terrifying.

I was safe. If Garcia or one of his allies hoped to capture me in the laptop, they were doomed to disappointment.

But while I was safe, my friends weren't. I began to worry for real. Something had happened to Sam —/ was right to feel nervous in that open convertible. I hoped she was only unconscious, not badly injured or dead.

And whoever attacked Sam was still free to go after Maude, Tim, and Claudia.

I sent warning messages to all three of their cell phones. Claudia's and Maude's voice mail eventually answered their calls. Tim's borrowed phone simply rang on unanswered.

Tim concentrated on smiling in

friendly fashion as the door swung slowly open. "Kyle Evans?" Maude said.

The young man in the doorway nodded and swallowed nervously. Tim could see that it was the face they knew from the driver's license, although he probably hadn't slept much in the last few days.

"Look, I can explain," he said.

"That's good," Maude said. "Why don't we talk inside?"

Evans backed away as she stepped through the door. Tim and Claudia followed. Evans glanced briefly at them and then focused back on Maude as if she were the most dangerous.

Not a total idiot, then, Tim decided. As planned, he and Claudia took up positions flanking Maude. Unmenacingly. Though seeing Evans's visibly nervous state, he figured just about anyone might look menacing to the poor guy. So he tried to keep his face calm and stuck his hands in his pockets in case they shook.