Net Force - Tom Clancy [97]
Yes, came Plekhanovs voice. It was terse.
All is well?
Basically. There has been an unexpected glitch. A small thing, but a bit worrisome.
Ruzhyo waited to hear whatever it was Plekhanov wanted him to hear. It was not long in coming.
That engineering matter you began has not been completed to my satisfaction.
Ruzhyo knew they were speaking of the action to divert Net Forces attention-the assassination of its leader, the dragons teeth sown to put that organization at war with the criminal group. He said, It is early, yet.
Nonetheless, we need to bring that matter along. The small glitch of which I spoke has arisen from that direction, and requires an earlier completion date for the overall project.
I see.
An attempt was made to, ah, duplicate your first experiment. By someone in the employ of the Italian company. They were unable to match your end results.
So. The Genaloni organization had tried kill the new head of Net Force and failed. Most interesting. He had not seen anything on the news about this.
And you want me to take care of that?
Very likely. However, I would like you to wait for my signal. It might be premature. I should know in a day or two.
As you wish.
It would perhaps be prudent to locate yourself close to that area.
Of course.
Good-bye, then. I will speak to you tomorrow.
Good-bye.
Ruzhyo removed the one-time scrambler and stared at it. The visual-purple biomolecular matrix that was the brain of the device would begin dying the moment the pressure switch left the phones mouthpiece. In twenty seconds, the devices memory would be blank, the circuitry dead. It was a nice toy, a slopover from fighter-jet research. If one had a jet crash in enemy territory, one did not wish for the computer systems to be recovered. Electronic storage was difficult to wipe completely clean, but a bio-unit, once it was completely dead, was impossible to bring back.
He stood there holding the scrambler for a full minute, then dropped it into the trash.
So, they would be going to Washington again. Actually, to a motel in Maryland, less than an hours drive away.
Grigory wandered over, away from the row of slot machines.
Are you done gambling? Ruzhyo asked.
Da.
Ruzhyo could not resist a small verbal jab. A needle, just enough to sting. He said, Your system apparently needs some refinement.
The Snake frowned. Ruzhyo took a certain amount of pleasure in the expression.
30
Sunday, October 3rd, 6:15 p.m. Quantico
Toni Fiorella stepped out of Net Force HQ into the cool evening air and headed for her car. The parking lot was nearly empty, of cars or pedestrians, but angling toward her, carrying a briefcase, was a figure she recognized.
Rusty. Whats up?
She saw him take a deep breath. Ive been doing some research on silat, got into some material on the net, a couple of books and old tapes. I was, ah, wondering, could we, you know, go over some of the stuff? Id like to get your opinion on it. He waggled the briefcase.
Sure. Ill look at it.
Well, good, thanks. But you know, I could show it to you at supper. I mean, we, that is-you want to get something to eat?
Toni stopped and blinked. He had obviously been waiting out here for her to leave. It certainly sounded as if he was asking her out on a date. And the question that brought up was, If he was, did she want to go down that path?
Ever alert, the voice of rationalization popped up: Dinner couldnt hurt. You have to eat, dont you?
She grinned to herself. A quick test of Rustys resolve might be in order. Are you asking me out?
If he wanted an escape hatch, there it was. Why, no, I was just suggesting that we eat while we discussed this here silat stuff I have here in this here briefcase.
Yes, maam, I guess I am.
She laughed. Ask a woman out and then call her maam. Thats probably as polite as Ive ever heard it.
So. What is it to be, Toni? Hes a student, but he is also an attractive man. Fit, bright, relatively adept. Got a nice legal degree to go with his FBI trainee status. Dating him might do bad things to the teacher-student