Digital Fortress Chapter 76-80

Part 76 Outside the Seville air terminal, a taxi sat inactive, the meter running. The traveler in the wire-edge glasses looked through the fortified glass windows of the sufficiently bright terminal. He realized he'd showed up in time. He could see a light young lady. She was helping David Becker to a seat. Becker was obviously in torment. He doesn't yet know torment, the traveler thought. The young lady pulled a little item from her pocket and held it out. Becker held it up and examined it in the light. At that point he slipped it on his finger. He pulled a heap of bills from his pocket and paid the young lady. They talked a couple of moments longer, and afterward the young lady embraced him. She waved, bore her duffel, and took off over the concourse. Finally, the man in the taxi thought. Finally. Part 77 Strathmore ventured out of his office onto the arrival with his firearm leveled. Susan trailed not far behind, thinking about whether Hale was still in Node 3. The light from Strathmore's screen behind them tossed frightful shadows of their bodies out over the ground stage. Susan crawled nearer to the officer. As they moved away from the entryway, the light blurred, and they were dove into dimness. The main light on the Crypto floor originated from the stars above and the swoon dimness from behind the broke Node 3 window. Strathmore crawled forward, searching for where the tight flight of stairs started. Changing the Berretta to one side hand, he grabbed for the rail with his right. He figured he was likely similarly as awful a shot with his left, and he required his appropriate for help. Tumbling down this specific arrangement of steps could injure somebody forever, and Strathmore's fantasies for his retirement didn't include a wheelchair. Susan, blinded by the obscurity of the Crypto vault, plummeted with a hand on Strathmore's shoulder. Indeed, even at the separation of two feet, she was unable to see the officer's layout. As she ventured onto each metal track, she rearranged her toes forward searching for the edge. Susan started reconsidering about gambling a visit to Node 3 to get Hale's pass-key. The authority demanded Hale wouldn't have the guts to contact them, yet Susan wasn't so certain. Robust was frantic. He had two alternatives: Escape Crypto or go to prison. A voice continued revealing to Susan they should sit tight for David's call and utilize his pass-key, yet she knew there was no assurance he would even discover it. She considered what was taking David such a long time. Susan gulped her worry and continued onward. Strathmore plummeted quietly. There was no compelling reason to caution Hale they were coming. As they approached the base, Strathmore eased back, feeling for the last advance. At the point when he discovered it, the impact point of his loafer tapped on hard dark tile. Susan felt his shoulder tense. They'd entered the threat zone. Solidness could be anyplace. Out there, presently taken cover behind TRANSLTR, was their goal Node 3. Susan asked Hale was still there, lying on the floor, whining in torment like the pooch he was. Strathmore let go of the railing and exchanged the weapon back to his correct hand. Without a word, he moved out into the murkiness. Susan held tight to his shoulder. On the off chance that she lost him, the main way she'd discover him again was to talk. Solidness may hear them. As they moved away from the wellbeing of the steps, Susan reviewed late-night rounds of tag as a child she'd ventured out from command post, she was in the open. She was helpless. TRANSLTR was the main island in the huge dark ocean. Each couple of steps Strathmore halted, firearm ready, and tuned in. The main sound was the swoon murmur from beneath. Susan needed to pull him back, back to wellbeing, back to command post. There appeared to be faces in obscurity all around her. Most of the way to TRANSLTR, the quiet of Crypto was broken. Some place in the obscurity, apparently directly on them, a sharp blaring penetrated the night. Strathmore spun, and Susan lost him. Frightful, Susan shot her arm out, grabbing for him. In any case, the administrator was no more. The space where his shoulder had been was currently simply void air. She lurched forward into the vacancy. The signaling clamor proceeded. It was close by. Susan wheeled in the haziness. There was a stir of dress, and out of nowhere the signaling halted. Susan solidified. A moment later, as though from one of her most exceedingly terrible youth bad dreams, a dream showed up. A face emerged legitimately before her. It was spooky and green. It was the essence of an evil presence, sharp shadows extending upward across distorted highlights. She bounced back. She went to run, however it got her arm. â€Å"Don't move!† it directed. For a moment, she thought she saw Hale in those two consuming eyes. In any case, the voice was not Hale's. Also, the touch was excessively delicate. It was Strathmore. He was lit from underneath by a gleaming article that he'd quite recently pulled from his pocket. Her body hang with alleviation. She felt herself begin breathing once more. The article in Strathmore's grasp had a type of electronic LED that was radiating a greenish sparkle. â€Å"Damn,† Strathmore reviled softly. â€Å"My new pager.† He gazed in nauseate at the SkyPager in his palm. He'd neglected to draw in the quiet ring highlight. Amusingly, he'd gone to a nearby hardware store to purchase the gadget. He'd paid money to keep it mysterious; no one knew better than Strathmore how intently the NSA watched their own-and the computerized messages sent and got from this pager were something Strathmore unquestionably expected to keep hidden. Susan glanced around precariously. On the off chance that Hale hadn't realized they were coming, he knew now. Strathmore squeezed a couple of catches and read the approaching message. He moaned discreetly. It was all the more awful news from Spain-not from David Becker, yet from the other party Strathmore had sent to Seville. 3,000 miles away, a portable reconnaissance van sped along the obscured Seville lanes. It had been appointed by the NSA under â€Å"Umbra† mystery from an army installation in Rota. The two men inside were tense. It was not the first occasion when they'd got crisis orders from Fort Meade, yet the requests didn't for the most part originate from so high up. The operator in the driver's seat brought behind him. â€Å"Any indication of our man?† The eyes of his accomplice never left the feed from the wide-edge video screen on the rooftop. â€Å"No. Keep driving.† Part 78 Underneath the curving mass of links, Jabba was perspiring. He was still on his back with a penlight grasped in his teeth. He'd become accustomed to working late on ends of the week; the less rushed NSA hours were frequently the main occasions he could perform equipment upkeep. As he moved the super hot patching iron through the labyrinth of wires above him, he moved with outstanding consideration; burning any of the dangling sheathes would be calamity. Simply one more barely any inches, he thought. The activity was taking far longer than he'd envisioned. Similarly as he brought the tip of the iron against the last string of crude weld, his mobile phone rang strongly. Jabba alarmed, his arm jerked, and a huge glob of sizzling, melted lead fell on his arm. â€Å"Shit!† He dropped the iron and essentially gulped his penlight. â€Å"Shit! Poo! Shit!† He scoured angrily at the drop of cooling weld. It moved off, leaving an amazing welt. The chip he was attempting to patch set up dropped out and hit him in the head. â€Å"Goddamn it!† Jabba's telephone called him once more. He overlooked it. â€Å"Midge,† he reviled faintly. Damn you! Crypto's fine! The telephone rang on. Jabba returned to work reseating the new chip. A moment later the chip was set up, yet his telephone was all the while ringing. For the wellbeing of Christ, Midge! Surrender it! The telephone rang an additional fifteen seconds lastly halted. Jabba inhaled a moan of help. After sixty seconds the radio overhead popped. â€Å"Would the boss Sys-Sec please contact the fundamental switchboard for a message.† Jabba feigned exacerbation in dismay. She simply doesn't surrender, isn't that right? He overlooked the page. Section 79 Strathmore supplanted his Skypager in his pocket and looked through the obscurity toward Node 3. He went after Susan's hand. â€Å"Come on.† Be that as it may, their fingers never contacted. There was a long throaty cry from out of the obscurity. A roaring figure lingered a Mack truck hunkering down without any headlights. A moment later, there was an impact and Strathmore was slipping over the floor. It was Hale. The pager had parted with them. Susan heard the Berretta fall. For a second she was planted set up, uncertain where to run, what to do. Her senses advised her to get away, however she didn't have the lift code. Her heart advised her to help Strathmore, yet how? As she spun in franticness, she expected to hear the hints of a real existence and-passing battle on the floor, yet there was nothing. Everything was out of nowhere quiet as though Hale had hit the authority and afterward vanished go into the night. Susan paused, stressing her eyes into the haziness, trusting Strathmore wasn't do any harm. After what appeared to be an unfathomable length of time, she murmured, â€Å"Commander?† Indeed, even as she said it, she understood her misstep. A moment later Hale's smell gushed behind her. She turned past the point of no return. Abruptly, she was turning, panting for air. She ended up squashed in a recognizable headlock, her face against Hale's chest. â€Å"My balls are executing me.† Hale gasped in her ear. Susan's knees clasped. The stars in the vault started to turn over her. Part 80 Solidness cinched down on Susan's neck and shouted into the dimness. â€Å"Commander, I have your darling. I need out!† His requests were met with quietness. Solidness' grasp fixed. â€Å"I'll break her neck!† A firearm positioned legitimately behind them. Strathmore's voice was quiet and even. â€Å"Let her go.† Susan flinched in torment. â€Å"Commander!† Solidness spun Susan's body toward the sound. â€Å"You shoot and you'll hit your valuable Susan. You prepared to take that chance?† Strathmore's voice drew nearer. â€Å"Let her go.† â€Å"No way. You'll slaughter me.† â€Å"I'm not go