The sum of all fears - Tom Clancy [355]
"Looks to me that we got what we want," the linguist observed.
"Where's your communications guy?" Clark asked the Station Chief.
"I can do it myself." It was, indeed, easy enough. The Station Chief transcribed the two typed pages into a computer. Attached to the computer was a small machine that looked like a video-disc machine. On the large disc were literally billions of random digital numbers. Each letter he typed was randomly transformed into something else and transmitted to the MERCURY room at Langley. Here the incoming signal was recorded. A communications technician selected the proper description disc from the secure library, slid it into his own machine, and pressed a button. Within seconds, a laser printer generated two pages of cleartext message. This was sealed in an envelope and handed to a messenger, who made for the seventh-floor office of the Deputy Director.
"Dr Ryan, the dispatch you were waiting for."
"Thank you." Jack signed for it. "Dr Goodley, you're going to have to excuse me for a moment."
"No problem." Ben went back to his pile of papers.
Ryan pulled the dispatch out and read it slowly and carefully twice. Then he picked up the phone and asked for a secure line to Camp David.
"Command center," a voice answered.
"This is Dr Ryan at Langley. I need to talk to the Boss."
"Wait one, sir," the Navy chief petty officer replied. Ryan lit a cigarette.
"This is the President," a new voice said.
"Mr President, this is Ryan. I have a fragment of conversation off the 747."
"So soon?"
"It was made before engine start-up, sir. We have an unidentified voice - we think it's the PM - saying that he made the deal." Jack read off three lines verbatim.
"That son-of-a-bitch," Fowler breathed. "You know, with evidence like that I could prosecute a guy."
"I thought you'd want this fast, sir. I can fax you the initial transcript. The full one will take until twenty-one hundred or so."
"It'll be nice to have something to read after the game. Okay, send it up." The line went dead.
"You're welcome, sir," Jack said into the phone.
"It is time," Ghosn said.
"Okay." Russell stood up and got into his heavy coat. It would be a really cold one outside. The predicted high temperature was six above, and they were not there yet. A bitter northeast wind was sweeping down out of Nebraska, where it was even colder. The only good thing about that was the clear sky it brought. Denver is also a city with a smog problem, made all the worse by winter-temperature inversions. But today the sky was literally cloudless, and to the west Marvin could see streams of snow being blown off the Front Range peaks like white banners. Surely it was auspicious, and the clear weather meant that the flight out of Stapleton would not be delayed as he had feared a few days before. He started the engine of the van, rehearsing his lines and going over the plan as he allowed the vehicle to heat. Marvin turned to look at the cargo. Almost a ton of super-high explosives, Ibrahim had said. That would really piss people off. Next he got into the rental car and started that one, too, flipping the heater all the way on. Shame that Commander Qati felt so bad. Maybe it was nerves, Russell thought.
A few minutes later, they came out. Ghosn got in next to Marvin. He was nervous, too.
"Ready, man?"
"Yes."
"Okay." Russell dropped the van into reverse and backed out of the parking place. He pulled forward, checking that the rental car was following, then headed off the parking lot onto the highway.
The drive to the stadium required only a few uneventful minutes. The police were out in force, and he saw that Ghosn was eyeing them very carefully. Marvin was not concerned. The cops were only there for traffic control, after all, and they were just standing around, since the traffic had scarcely begun. It was almost six hours till game time. He turned off the road onto the parking lot at the media entrance, and there was a cop he had to talk to. Qati had already broken off, and was now circling a few blocks