The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [140]
“What’d you do?” I blurt.
“Nothing… I just hit Print.”
“See, this is what I was talking about,” Gillian says.
The porno kid next to us once again starts to stare. The elevator doors close in the corner. Someone’s calling it from below.
Charlie tries to click back to the bank statement, but he can’t get past the password warning.
“Ask the lady at the reference desk,” Gillian says.
“I don’t think this is from the library,” I say, leaning in over his shoulder. “This may be a Duckworth precaution.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“We do the same thing on the important accounts at the bank. If you were hiding the smoking gun in the center of one of the world’s most popular websites—wouldn’t you bury a couple land mines just to buy yourself some safety?”
“Wait, so now you think it’s a trap?” Gillian asks.
“All I’m saying is we should pick the right password,” I tell her matter-of-factly. Charlie looks at me, surprised by my tone.
“Try putting in Duckworth,” I say.
He hammers the word Duckworth on the keyboard and hits Enter.
Failure to recognize password—To print this document, please reenter password.
Crap. If this is like the bank, we’ve only got two more chances. Three strikes and we’re out.
“Any other bright ideas?”
“How about Martin Duckworth?”I ask.
“Maybe it’s something stupid, like his address,” Gillian suggests.
“What about Arthur Stoughton?”Charlie adds, using the first name from the photos.
Gillian and I look at Charlie. As we nod, he quickly hunts and pecks Arthur Stoughton and smacks the Enter key.
Failure to recognize password—To print this document, please reenter password.
“I swear, I’m gonna put my foot through the screen,” he growls.
Only one more shot.
“Try the guy with the cleft chin,” I say.
“Try dad’s account number at the bank,” Gillian suggests.
“Try Gillian,”I blurt, my voice and confidence already wavering. I’m not the only one. Desperation settles across Charlie’s face. He knows what’s at stake. “Gillian,”I repeat.
Charlie rubs his knuckles against his cheek. He’s far from thrilled. Still, there’s no time to argue.
Turning to Gillian, he studies her penetrating blue eyes and searches for the lie. But like always, it never comes.
“Try it,” I say.
He looks down at the keyboard, types in the word Gillian, and goes to press Enter.But for some reason—just as his finger touches the key—he stops.
“C’mon, Charlie.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice shaking. “Maybe we should—”
“Just hit it,” I demand, reaching over and pounding the key myself.
All three of us squint at the screen, waiting for the computer’s reply.
There’s a long, vacant pause. In the distance, I hear someone flipping pages through a magazine. The air-conditioning hums… the porn-kid snickers… and to all of our surprise, the laser printer softly purrs.
“I don’t believe it,” Charlie mutters as the first page rolls off. “We’re finally getting a break.”
With a wild grin across his face, he leaps out of his seat, dives forward, and grabs the top sheet from the printer. But as he flips it over, the grin suddenly goes limp. His shoulders fall. I look at the page. It’s completely blank.
We spin back toward the screen just in time to see Duckworth’s account slowly fade to black. We just jumped on the land mines.
“Charlie…!”
“I’m on it!” he says. Clutching the mouse, he clicks every button in sight. There’s no way to stop it. It’s almost gone.
“Get the web address…!” I shout.
Our eyes lock on the address at the top of the screen. I take the first half; he takes the second.
Gillian’s lost. “What’re you doing?”
“Not now,” I snap, struggling to memorize.
The screen blinks off and a new image clicks into place. It’s the Seven Dwarfs, and a red button marked Company Directory.Back at the beginning. But at least we’re still in the internal employee site.
“Charlie, go to…”
Before I can finish, he’s already there, anxiously clicking the button for Directory. Hundreds of company photos appear on screen. Like before, he scrolls down to the Imagineering section. Like before, he finds the black man with the cleft chin.