The Hidden Man - Charles Cumming [69]
‘Randall,’ he said.
‘We may have a problem.’
‘Elaborate, please.’
‘I just got to the office. Macklin’s breakfast was cancelled. Lunch as well. It looks like he’s going to be there all day. I told him I was going out for a coffee so I could get to a phone and tell you.’
‘I see. So do you still want to go ahead?’
‘Do you?’
‘There’s no problem at our end. The network will go down at 11 a.m. as arranged. We have the team standing by waiting for your call. But you sound unsettled.’
Mark had not wanted to betray any of his anxiety. Think of Dad, he had said to himself. What would my father do? He braced his foot against the wall of the callbox and said, ‘I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I just thought you should know.’
‘Well, I’m pleased to hear that. So let’s press ahead. This is information that we need. Now, where are you?’
‘Leicester Square tube.’
‘Well, it’s almost half-past. Get backto the office. We’ll expect to hear from you within the next forty minutes.’
‘Sure.’
‘And Mark?’ Taploe said.
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t forget the coffee.’
‘What?’
‘You told Macklin you were going out for a coffee. Make sure to bring one back to work.’
Half an hour later Mark was sitting in an armchair in his office when he heard the distinct rumble of a Macklin ‘Fuck’ coming through the walls. Another voice - Kathy’s - cried out, ‘What the hell happened?’ and then a door opened in the corridor.
‘Why’s the fucking email not working?’ Macklin shouted. ‘Where’s Sam?’
‘Maternity leave,’ somebody said.
‘Fucking great.’
He swerved into Mark’s office, a shirt button popped open on his belly. Mark lowered the magazine he was pretending to read and tried to look distracted.
‘Your computer working, mate?’ Macklin asked him.
‘Mine just crashed as well,’ Kathy said, coming in behind him.
Mark stood up with perhaps an exaggerated non-chalance and walked across to his desk. Hitting a key at random, his stomach a swell of nerves, he prayed for total system failure.
Granted.
The small, frowning face of an Apple icon appeared onscreen and nothing Mark could do would remove it. Turning to face Macklin and Kathy he said simply, ‘Shit.’
At the reception desk, thirty feet away, Rebecca, a temp who had replaced Sam as office manager, answered a telephone call just as her own computer froze irreparably. She had been in the middle of writing a frankand erotic email to a one-night stand and was worried that it would now be discovered on the system.
‘Well, that’s fucking great, isn’t it?’ Macklin was saying. ‘I had twenty fucking messages downloading and now they’re all shot to fuck. Some cunt in the Philippines, probably, a prepubescent anorak who thinks it’s a fucking laugh infecting every computer in the civilized world with Macintosh Clap. Doesn’t he have something better to do? You know, watch football, play Virtual Cop or something?’
Mark caught Kathy’s eye and grinned. ‘It may not be that bad,’ he said. Momentarily forgetting the temp’s name, he called out to her, ‘Is yours down too?’
‘Yes,’ Rebecca replied from across the room, covering the telephone with her hand. The conspiratorial way she then soundlessly mouthed the word ‘Frozen’ made Mark wonder if she fancied him. ‘Well then, I’ll get someone to fix it,’ he said.
‘Who does Sam normally call?’ Macklin asked. ‘Of all the fucking days to be on holiday…’
‘The number’s in her magic book,’ Kathy told him. At this, Mark stepped in.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll call them,’ he announced, and then panicked that he might have sounded too enthusiastic. Why would he do it, after all, when Kathy was around and knew where to find the book? Rescue this. Say something. ‘Mack, you go next door. Kathy, make him a cup of tea. Virus or no virus, it’ll be fixed by lunch.’
‘What makes you so sure?’ Macklin asked.
‘Vibes, man,’ Mark said. ‘Just vibes.’
He was impressed by how precisely the men from A Branch looked exactly like computer technicians. For some reason he had been expecting lab engineers wearing white coats and protective helmets, but the three men who came to the