"Are you on drugs?" Becker asked, deadpan,eyeing her swollen forearm.

The girl glared, indignant. "Of course not!" She gaveBecker an innocent huff, and he suddenly got the feeling he wasbeing played.

"Come on," she said. "You look like a rich guy.Can't you spot me some cash to get home? I could send it toyou later."

Becker figured any cash he gave this girl would end up in thehands of some drug dealer in Triana. "First of all," hesaid, "I'm not a rich guy-I'm a teacher. ButI'll tell you what I'll do ..." I'll callyour bluff, that's what I'll do. "Why don'tI charge the ticket for you?"

The blonde stared at him in utter shock. "You'd dothat?" she stammered, eyes wide with hope. "You'dbuy me a ticket home? Oh, G.o.d, thank you!"

Becker was speechless. He had apparently misjudged themoment.

The girl threw her arms around him. "It's been as.h.i.tty summer," she choked, almost bursting into tears."Oh, thank you! I've got to get out of here!"

Becker returned her embrace halfheartedly. The girl let go ofhim, and he eyed her forearm again.

She followed his gaze to the bluish rash. "Gross,huh?"

Becker nodded. "I thought you said you weren't ondrugs."

The girl laughed. "It's Magic Marker! I took off halfmy skin trying to scrub it off. The ink smeared."

Becker looked closer. In the fluorescent light, he could see,blurred beneath the reddish swelling on her arm, the faint outlineof writing-words scrawled on flesh.

"But ... but your eyes," Becker said, feelingdumb. "They're all red."

She laughed. "I was crying. I told you, I missed myflight."

Becker looked back at the words on her arm.

She frowned, embarra.s.sed. "Oops, you can still kind of readit, can't you?"

Becker leaned closer. He could read it all right. The messagewas crystal clear. As he read the four faint words, the last twelvehours flashed before his eyes.

David Becker found himself back in the Alfonso XIII hotel room.The obese German was touching his own forearm and speaking brokenEnglish: Fock off und die. "You okay?" the girl asked, eyeing the dazedBecker.

Becker did not look up from her arm. He was dizzy. The fourwords smeared across the girl's flesh carried a very simplemessage: f.u.c.k OFF AND DIE.

The blonde looked down at it, embarra.s.sed. "This friend ofmine wrote it ... pretty stupid, huh?"

Becker couldn't speak. Fock off und die. Hecouldn't believe it. The German hadn't been insultinghim, he'd been trying to help. Becker lifted his gaze to thegirl's face. In the fluorescent light of the concourse, hecould see faint traces of red and blue in the girl's blondhair.

"Y-you ..." Becker stammered, staring at herunpierced ears. "You wouldn't happen to wear earrings,would you?"

The girl eyed him strangely. She fished a tiny object from herpocket and held it out.

Becker gazed at the skull pendant danglingin her hand.

"A clip-on?" he stammered.

"h.e.l.l, yes," the girl replied. "I'm scareds.h.i.tless of needles."

CHAPTER 70

David Becker stood in the deserted concourse and felt his legsgo weak. He eyed the girl before him and knew his search was over.She had washed her hair and changed clothes-maybe in hopes ofhaving better luck selling the ring-but she'd neverboarded for New York.

Becker fought to keep his cool. His wild journey was about toend. He scanned her fingers. They were bare. He gazed down at herduffel. It's in there, he thought. It's got tobe!

He smiled, barely containing his excitement. "This is goingto sound crazy," he said, "but I think you've gotsomething I need."

"Oh?" Megan seemed suddenly uncertain.

Becker reached for his wallet. "Of course I'd be happyto pay you." He looked down and started sorting through thecash in his billfold. As Megan watched him count out his money, she drew a startledgasp, apparently misunderstanding his intentions. She shot afrightened glance toward the revolving door ... measuring thedistance. It was fifty yards.

"I can give you enough to buy your ticket homeif-"

"Don't say it," Megan blurted, offering a forcedsmile. "I think I know exactly what you need." She bentdown and started rifling through her duffel.

Becker felt a surge of hope. She's got it! he toldhimself. She's got the ring! He didn't know howthe h.e.l.l she knew what it was he wanted, but he was too tired tocare. Every muscle in his body relaxed. He pictured himself handingthe ring to the beaming deputy director of the NSA. Then he andSusan would lie in the big canopy bed at Stone Manor and make upfor lost time.

The girl finally found what she was looking for-herPepperGuard-the environmentally safe alternative to mace, madefrom a potent blend of cayenne and chili peppers. In one swiftmotion, she swung around and fired a direct stream intoBecker's eyes. She grabbed her duffel and dashed for the door.When she looked back, David Becker was on the floor, holding hisface, writhing in agony.

CHAPTER 71

Tokugen Numataka lit his fourth cigar and kept pacing. Hes.n.a.t.c.hed up his phone and buzzed the main switchboard.

"Any word yet on that phone number?" he demandedbefore the operator could speak.

"Nothing yet, sir. It's taking a bit longer thanexpected-it came from a cellular."

A cellular, Numataka mused. Figures. Fortunatelyfor the j.a.panese economy, the Americans had an insatiable appet.i.tefor electronic gadgets.

"The boosting station," the operator added, "isin the 202 area code. But we have no number yet."

"202? Where's that?" Where in the vastAmerican expanse is this mysterious North Dakota hiding?

"Somewhere near Washington, D.C., sir." Numataka arched his eyebrows. "Call me as soon as you havea number."

CHAPTER 72

Susan Fletcher stumbled across the darkened Crypto floor towardStrathmore's catwalk. The commander's office was as farfrom Hale as Susan could get inside the locked complex.

When Susan reached the top of the catwalk stairs, she found thecommander's door hanging loosely, the electronic lock renderedineffective by the power outage. She barged in.

"Commander?" The only light inside was the glow ofStrathmore's computer monitors. "Commander!" shecalled once again. "Commander!"

Susan suddenly remembered that the commander was in the Sys-Seclab. She turned circles in his empty office, the panic of herordeal with Hale still in her blood. She had to get out of Crypto.Digital Fortress or no Digital Fortress, it was time toact-time to abort the TRANSLTR run and escape. She eyedStrathmore's glowing monitors then dashed to his desk. Shefumbled with his keypad. Abort TRANSLTR! The task was simplenow that she was on an authorized terminal. Susan called up theproper command window and typed: ABORT RUN Her finger hovered momentarily over the ENTER key.

"Susan!" a voice barked from the doorway. Susanwheeled scared, fearing it was Hale.

But it was not, it wa.s.strathmore. He stood, pale and eerie in the electronic glow, hischest heaving. "What the h.e.l.l's going on!"

"Com ... mander!" Susan gasped. "Hale's inNode 3! He just attacked me!"

"What? Impossible! Hale's locked downin-"

"No, he's not! He's loose! We need security inhere now! I'm aborting TRANSLTR!"

Susan reached for thekeypad.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Strathmore lunged for theterminal and pulled Susan's hands away. Susan recoiled, stunned. She stared at the commander and for thesecond time that day did not recognize him. Susan felt suddenlyalone.

Strathmore saw the blood on Susan's shirt and immediatelyregretted his outburst.

"Jesus, Susan. Are you okay?"

She didn't respond.

He wished he hadn't jumped on her unnecessarily. His nerveswere frayed. He was juggling too much. There were things on hismind-things Susan Fletcher did not know about-things hehad not told her and prayed he'd never have to.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Tell me whathappened."

She turned away. "It doesn't matter. The blood'snot mine. Just get me out of here."

"Are you hurt?" Strathmore put a hand on her shoulder.Susan recoiled. He dropped his hand and looked away. When he lookedback at Susan's face, she seemed to be staring over hisshoulder at something on the wall.

There, in the darkness, a small keypad glowed full force.Strathmore followed her gaze and frowned. He'd hoped Susanwouldn't notice the glowing control panel. The illuminatedkeypad controlled his private elevator. Strathmore and hishigh-powered guests used it to come and go from Crypto withoutadvertising the fact to the rest of the staff. The personal liftdropped down fifty feet below the Crypto dome and then movedlaterally 109 yards through a reinforced underground tunnel to thesublevels of the main NSA complex. The elevator connecting Cryptoto the NSA was powered from the main complex; it was on-linedespite Crypto's power outage.

Strathmore had known all along it was on-line, but even as Susanhad been pounding on the main exit downstairs, he hadn'tmentioned it. He could not afford to let Susan out-not yet. Hewondered how much he'd have to tell her to make her want tostay.

Susan pushed past Strathmore and raced to the back wall. Shejabbed furiously at the illuminated b.u.t.tons.

"Please," she begged. But the door did not open.

"Susan," Strathmore said quietly. "The lift takesa pa.s.sword."

"A pa.s.sword?" she repeated angrily. She glared at thecontrols. Below the main keypad was a second keypad-a smallerone, with tiny b.u.t.tons. Each b.u.t.ton was marked with a letter of thealphabet. Susan wheeled to him. "What is the pa.s.sword!"she demanded.

Strathmore thought a moment and sighed heavily. "Susan,have a seat."

Susan looked as if she could hardly believe her ears. "Have a seat," the commander repeated, his voicefirm.

"Let me out!" Susan shot an uneasy glance toward thecommander's open office door.

Strathmore eyed the panicked Susan Fletcher. Calmly he moved tohis office door. He stepped out onto the landing and peered intothe darkness. Hale was nowhere to be seen. The commander steppedback inside and pulled the door shut. Then he propped a chair infront to keep it closed, went to his desk, and removed somethingfrom a drawer. In the pale glow of the monitors Susan saw what hewas holding. Her face went pale. It was a gun.

Strathmore pulled two chairs into the middle of the room. Herotated them to face the closed office door. Then he sat. He liftedthe glittering Beretta semi-automatic and aimed steadily at theslightly open door. After a moment he laid the gun back in hislap.

He spoke solemnly. "Susan, we're safe here. We need totalk. If Greg Hale comes through that door ..." He let ithang.

Susan was speechless.

Strathmore gazed at her in the dim light of his office. Hepatted the seat beside him.

"Susan, sit. I have something totell you." She did not move. "When I'm done,"he said, "I'll give you the pa.s.sword to the elevator. Youcan decide whether to leave or not."

There was a long silence. In a daze, Susan moved across theoffice and sat next to Strathmore.

"Susan," he began, "I haven't been entirelyhonest with you."

CHAPTER 73

David Becker felt as if his face had been doused in turpentineand ignited. He rolled over on the floor and squinted throughbleary tunnel vision at the girl halfway to the revolving doors.She was running in short, terrified bursts, dragging her duffelbehind her across the tile. Becker tried to pull himself to hisfeet, but he could not. He was blinded by red-hot fire. Shecan't get away!

He tried to call out, but there was no air in his lungs, only asickening pain. "No!" He coughed. The sound barely lefthis lips. Becker knew the second she went through the door, she woulddisappear forever. He tried to call out again, but his throat wa.s.searing.