Hale had Susan's arm twisted behind her back and her neckbent to one side. "This is your last chance, old man! Give methe gun!"

Strathmore's mind continued to race, searching for anotheroption. There are always other options! Finally hespoke-quietly, almost sadly. "No, Greg, I'm sorry. Ijust can't let you go."

Hale choked in apparent shock. "What!"

"I'm calling Security."

Susan gasped. "Commander! No!"

Hale tightened his grip. "You call Security, and shedies!"

Strathmore pulled the cellular off his belt and flicked it on."Greg, you're bluffing." "You'll never do it!" Hale yelled."I'll talk! I'll ruin your plan! You're onlyhours away from your dream! Controlling all the data in the world!No more TRANSLTR. No more limits-just free information.It's a chance of a lifetime! You won't let it slipby!"

Strathmore voice was like steel. "Watch me."

"But-but what about Susan?" Hale stammered."You make that call, and she dies!"

Strathmore held firm. "That's a chance I'm readyto take."

"Bulls.h.i.t! You've got a bigger hard-on for her thanyou do for Digital Fortress! I know you! You won't riskit!"

Susan began to make an angry reb.u.t.tal, but Strathmore beat herto it. "Young man!

You don't know me! I take risksfor a living. If you're looking to play hardball, let'splay!" He started punching keys on his phone. "Youmisjudged me, son! n.o.body threatens the lives of my employees andwalks out!" He raised the phone and barked into the receiver,"Switchboard! Get me Security!"

Hale began to torque Susan's neck. "I-I'll killher. I swear it!"

"You'll do no such thing!" Strathmore proclaimed."Killing Susan will just make things wor-" He brokeoff and rammed the phone against his mouth. "Security! This isCommander Trevor Strathmore. We've got a hostage situation inCrypto! Get some men in here! Yes, now, G.o.dd.a.m.n it! We alsohave a generator failure. I want power routed from all availableexternal sources. I want all systems on-line in five minutes!

GregHale killed one of my junior Sys-Secs. He's holding my seniorcryptographer hostage. You're cleared to use tear gas on allof us if necessary! If Mr. Hale doesn't cooperate, havesnipers shoot him dead. I'll take full responsibility. Do itnow!"

Hale stood motionless-apparently limp in disbelief. Hisgrip on Susan eased.

Strathmore snapped his phone shut and shoved it back onto hisbelt. "Your move, Greg."

CHAPTER 81

Becker stood bleary-eyed beside the telephone booth on theterminal concourse.

Despite his burning face and a vague nausea,his spirits were soaring. It was over.

Truly over. He was on hisway home. The ring on his finger was the grail he'd beenseeking. He held his hand up in the light and squinted at the goldband. He couldn't focus well enough to read, but theinscription didn't appear to be in English.

The first symbolwas either a Q, an O, or a zero, his eyes hurt too much to tell.Becker studied the first few characters. They made no sense. This was a matter of national security?

Becker stepped into the phone booth and dialed Strathmore.Before he had finished the international prefix, he got arecording. "Todos los circuitos estan ocupados," thevoice said. "Please hang up and try your call later."Becker frowned and hung up. He'd forgotten: Getting aninternational connection from Spain was like roulette, all a matterof timing and luck. He'd have to try again in a fewminutes.

Becker fought to ignore the waning sting of the pepper in hiseyes. Megan had told him rubbing his eyes would only make themworse; he couldn't imagine. Impatient, he tried the phoneagain. Still no circuits. Becker couldn't wait anylonger-his eyes were on fire; he had to flush them with water.Strathmore would have to wait a minute or two. Half blind, Beckermade his way toward the bathrooms.

The blurry image of the cleaning cart was still in front of themen's room, so Becker turned again toward the door markeddamas. He thought he heard sounds inside. He knocked."Hola?"

Silence.

Probably Megan, he thought. She had five hours to killbefore her flight and had said she was going to scrub her arm tillit was clean.

"Megan?" he called. He knocked again. There was noreply. Becker pushed the door open. "h.e.l.lo?" He went in.The bathroom appeared empty. He shrugged and walked to thesink.

The sink was still filthy, but the water was cold. Becker felthis pores tighten as he splashed the water in his eyes. The painbegan to ease, and the fog gradually lifted.

Becker eyed himself inthe mirror. He looked like he'd been crying for days.

He dried his face on the sleeve of his jacket, and then itsuddenly occurred to him. In all the excitement, he'dforgotten where he was. He was at the airport! Somewhere out thereon the tarmac, in one of the Seville airport's three privatehangars, there was a Learjet 60 waiting to take him home. The pilothad stated very clearly, I have orders to stay here until youreturn.

It was hard to believe, Becker thought, that after all this, hehad ended up right back where he'd started. What am Iwaiting for? he laughed. I'm sure the pilot can radio amessage to Strathmore!

Chuckling to himself, Becker glanced in the mirror andstraightened his tie. He was about to go when the reflection ofsomething behind him caught his eye. He turned. It appeared to beone end of Megan's duffel, protruding from under a partiallyopen stall door. "Megan?" he called. There was no reply. "Megan?"

Becker walked over. He rapped loudly on the side of the stall.No answer. He gently pushed the door. It swung open.

Becker fought back a cry of horror. Megan was on the toilet, hereyes rolled skyward.

Dead center of her forehead, a bullet holeoozed b.l.o.o.d.y liquid down her face.

"Oh, Jesus!" Becker cried in shock.

"Esta muerta," a barely human voice croakedbehind him. "She's dead."

It was like a dream. Becker turned.

"Senor Becker?" the eerie voice asked.

Dazed, Becker studied the man stepping into the rest room. Helooked oddly familiar.

"Soy Hulohot," the killer said. "I amHulohot." The misshapen words seemed to emerge from the depthsof his stomach. Hulohot held out his hand. "El anillo.

Thering."

Becker stared blankly.

The man reached in his pocket and produced a gun. He raised theweapon and trained it on Becker's head. "Elanillo."

In an instant of clarity, Becker felt a sensation he had neverknown. As if cued by some subconscious survival instinct, everymuscle in his body tensed simultaneously.

He flew through the airas the shot spat out. Becker crashed down on top of Megan. A bulletexploded against the wall behind him.

"Mierda!" Hulohot seethed. Somehow, at the lastpossible instant, David Becker had dived out of the way. Thea.s.sa.s.sin advanced.

Becker pulled himself off the lifeless teenager. There wereapproaching footsteps.

Breathing. The c.o.c.k of a weapon.

"Adios," the man whispered as he lunged like apanther, swinging his weapon into the stall.

The gun went off. There was a flash of red. But it was notblood. It was something else. An object had materialized as if outof nowhere, sailing out of the stall and hitting the killer in thechest, causing his gun to fire a split second early. It wasMegan's duffel.

Becker exploded from the stall. He buried his shoulder in theman's chest and drove him back into the sink. There was abone-crushing crash. A mirror shattered. The gun fell free. The twomen collapsed to the floor. Becker tore himself away and dashed forthe exit. Hulohot scrambled for his weapon, spun, and fired. Thebullet ripped into the slamming bathroom door.

The empty expanse of the airport concourse loomed before Beckerlike an uncrossable desert. His legs surged beneath him faster thanhe'd ever known they could move.

As he skidded into the revolving door, a shot rang out behindhim. The gla.s.s panel in front of him exploded in a shower of gla.s.s.Becker pushed his shoulder into the frame and the door rotatedforward. A moment later he stumbled onto the pavement outside.

A taxi stood waiting.

"Dejame entrar!" Becker screamed, pounding on thelocked door. "Let me in!" The driver refused; his farewith the wire-rim gla.s.ses had asked him to wait. Becker turned andsaw Hulohot streaking across he concourse, gun in hand. Becker eyedhis little Vespa on the sidewalk. I'm dead.

Hulohot blasted through the revolving doors just in time to seeBecker trying in vain to kickstart his Vespa. Hulohot smiled andraised his weapon.

The choke! Becker fumbled with the levers under the gastank. He jumped on the starter again. It coughed and died.

"El anillo. The ring." The voice was close.

Becker looked up. He saw the barrel of a gun. The chamber wasrotating. He rammed his foot on the starter once again.

Hulohot's shot just missed Becker's head as the littlebike sprang to life and lurched forward. Becker hung on for hislife as the motorcycle bounced down a gra.s.sy embankment and wobbledaround the corner of the building onto the runway.

Enraged, Hulohot raced toward his waiting taxi. Seconds later,the driver lay stunned on the curb watching his taxi peel out in acloud of dust.

CHAPTER 82

As the implications of the Commander's phone call toSecurity began to settle on the dazed Greg Hale, he found himselfweakened by a wave of panic. Security is coming!

Susan beganto slip away. Hale recovered, clutching at her midsection, pullingher back. "Let me go!" she cried, her voice echoing though thedome.

Hale's mind was in overdrive. The commander's call hadtaken him totally by surprise. Strathmore phoned Security!He's sacrificing his plans for Digital Fortress!

Not in a million years had Hale imagined the commander would letDigital Fortress slip by. This back door was the chance of alifetime.

As the panic rushed in, Hale's mind seemed to play trickson him. He saw the barrel of Strathmore's Berretta everywherehe looked. He began to spin, holding Susan close, trying to denythe commander a shot. Driven by fear, Hale dragged Susan blindlytoward the stairs. In five minutes the lights would come on, thedoors would open, and a SWAT team would pour in.

"You're hurting me!" Susan choked. She gasped forbreath as she stumbled through Hale's desperatepirouettes.

Hale considered letting her go and making a mad dash forStrathmore's elevator, but it was suicide. He had no pa.s.sword.Besides, once outside the NSA without a hostage, Hale knew he wasas good as dead. Not even his Lotus could outrun a fleet of NSAhelicopters. Susan is the only thing that will keep Strathmorefrom blowing me off the road!

"Susan," Hale blurted, dragging her toward the stairs."Come with me! I swear I won't hurt you!"

As Susan fought him, Hale realized he had new problems. Even ifhe somehow managed to get Strathmore's elevator open and takeSusan with him, she would undoubtedly fight him all the way out ofthe building. Hale knew full well that Strathmore's elevatormade only one stop: "the Underground Highway," arestricted labyrinth of underground access tunnels through whichNSA powerbrokers moved in secrecy. Hale had no intention of endingup lost in the bas.e.m.e.nt corridors of the NSA with a strugglinghostage. It was a death trap. Even if he got out, he realized, hehad no gun. How would he get Susan across the parking lot? Howwould he drive?

It was the voice of one of Hale's marine, military-strategyprofessors that gave him his answer: Force a hand, the voice warned, and it will fight you.But convince a mind to think as you want it to think, and you havean ally.

"Susan," Hale heard himself saying,"Strathmore's a killer! You're in dangerhere!"

Susan didn't seem to hear. Hale knew it was an absurd angleanyway; Strathmore would never hurt Susan, and she knew it.

Hale strained his eyes into the darkness, wondering where thecommander was hidden.

Strathmore had fallen silent suddenly, whichmade Hale even more panicky. He sensed his time was up. Securitywould arrive at any moment. With a surge of strength, Hale wrapped his arms aroundSusan's waist and pulled her hard up the stairs. She hookedher heels on the first step and pulled back. It was no use, Haleoverpowered her.

Carefully, Hale backed up the stairs with Susan in tow. Pushingher up might have been easier, but the landing at the top wasilluminated from Strathmore's computer monitors. If Susan wentfirst, Strathmore would have a clear shot at Hale's back.Pulling Susan behind him, Hale had a human shield between himselfand the Crypto floor.

About a third of the way up, Hale sensed movement at the bottomof the stairs.

Strathmore's making his move!"Don't try it, Commander," he hissed."You'll only get her killed."

Hale waited. But there was only silence. He listened closely.Nothing. The bottom of the stairs was still. Was he imaginingthings? It didn't matter. Strathmore would never risk a shotwith Susan in the way.

But as Hale backed up the stairs dragging Susan behind him,something unexpected happened. There was a faint thud on thelanding behind him. Hale stopped, adrenaline surging. HadStrathmore slipped upstairs? Instinct told him Strathmore was atthe bottom of the stairs. But then, suddenly, it happenedagain-louder this time. A distinct step on the upperlanding!

In terror, Hale realized his mistake. Strathmore's onthe landing behind me! He has a clear shot of my back! Indesperation, he spun Susan back to his uphill side and startedretreating backwards down the steps.

As he reached the bottom step, he stared wildly up at thelanding and yelled, "Back off, Commander! Back off, orI'll break her-"

The b.u.t.t of a Berretta came slicing through the air at the footof the stairs and crashed down into Hale's skull.

As Susan tore free of the slumping Hale, she wheeled inconfusion. Strathmore grabbed her and reeled her in, cradling hershaking body. "Shhh," he soothed. "It's me.You're okay."

Susan was trembling. "Com ... mander." She gasped,disoriented. "I thought ... I thought you were upstairs . .. I heard ..."

"Easy now," he whispered. "You heard me toss myloafers up onto the landing."

Susan found herself laughing and crying at the same time. Thecommander had just saved her life. Standing there in the darkness,Susan felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It was not, however,without guilt; Security was coming. She had foolishly let Hale grabher, and he had used her against Strathmore. Susan knew thecommander had paid a huge price to save her. "I'msorry," she said.

"What for?" "Your plans for Digital Fortress ... they'reruined."