Hood hadn't expected to see employees wandering about at night. But there weren't even cleaning crews afoot.
Just the occasional guard, who ignored them.
Despite the addition of lights, alarms, cameras, and modern flooring, the edifice retained its ancient character.
That is, until a guard admitted them to the computer room.
The former dining hall had been turned into something which resembled the National Reconnaissance Office. The walls were white and the ceiling lined with recessed fluorescent lights. There were glass tables lined with at least three dozen computer terminals. A vacuum-formed plastic chair was attached to the floor at each station. The only difference between Demain and the NRO was, again, that there were no people. Dominique wasn't taking any chances.
The warrant was due to expire in just over an hour. If no one were there to answer questions, it had to slow them down.
"This is some playroom," Stoll said as looked around.
Ballon said to him, "Start playing." Stoll looked at Hood. Hood, nodded silently. Stoll took a breath and looked at Nancy. "Got a preference?" he asked.
"It doesn't really matter," she said. "They're all hooked to the same master computer." Nodding, Stoll sat down at the nearest monitor, jacked his portable computer into the back of the computer, and powered up.
"They've probably dropped inhibitors into the system," Nancy said. "How do you plan to get past those to the master system? I can probably help you with a few, but it will take time." "We don't need a lot of time," Stoll said. He slipped a diskette into his B drive and booted it. "I always carry the Bulldozer program I wrote. It starts with my fast-acting Handshake Locator, which works on finding the mathematical keys to undo encryption. It doesn't have to hit them exactly. If one-through-six and eight-through-ten don't work, it doesn't bother trying seven. Once Handshake learns some of the language, which only takes a few minutes, Bulldozer rolls in and searches for menus. Once I get those, I'm in. And while we look at the data here, I'll be dumping everything into Op-Center's computers." Ballon squeezed Stoll's shoulder, shook his head, and put a finger to his lips.
Stoll drove his palm into his forehead. "Sorry," he said.
"Loose lips sink chips." Ballon nodded.
As Nancy gave Stoll some passwords to try, Hausen wandered over to Ballon.
"Colonel, what are we going to do about Dominique?" "We wait." "For what?" Hausen asked.
Ballon faced the German. He moved close to his ear.
"For Dominique to get nervous. As I indicated to M. Stoll, Dominique is certainly observing us. Hopefully, we'll find something in the computer." "And if we don't?" Ballon said, "I have you." "Me?" "I'll ask M. Stoll and Ms. Bosworth to send out a message on the computer; your account of the murders in Paris. In either case, we will cripple Dominique." Ballon grinned. "Although there is a third possibility. Dominique has waited twenty-five years for you. If he fears that you may finally reveal secrets about his past, the temptation will be great not to let you walk out that door." "You really think he'd send his New Jacobins against us?" "I've ordered my men to stand back," Ballon said. "If Dominique thinks he can get you before they can move in, he'll surely be tempted. Once he does that, I'll get all of you out and bring this place down." He winked charmlessly. "As I've said, I've waited a long time for Dominique as well. I intend to have him." Ballon withdrew then to watch what Stoll and Nancy were doing. Hausen remained where he was, as though he were bolted to the hardwood floor.
Hood was standing beside Stoll. He could tell from Hausen's expression that all was not well. The normally impassive face was taut, the brows dipped in concern. But he decided not to ask Hausen about it. The German liked to think things through before speaking. If he had anything to share; he'd share it.
So Hood just stood there, silently watching with a mixture of fear and pride as the fate of the world was decided by a perspiring young man at a computer keyboard.
CHAPTER SIXTY
When data began coming into Eddie Medina's computer from Matt Stoll in France, the young man took off his coat, sat back down, and told his evening replacement, Assistant Deputy Operations Support Officer Randall Battle, to notify General Rodgers.
Battle did, just as Stoll's:-) signature faded. It was replaced by a screen which announced a big file called L'Operation Ecouter.
Rodgers had Battle send the material to his own computer. Then he too watched the feed with Darrell McCaskey and Martha Mackall.
First up was a note from Stoll.
Eddie: I don't want to eat up too much line-time with notes.
Bulldozer cracked the Demain files. Primaries were erased but backups weren't. I'm going to download everything from this file.
Following the note were photographs of people who served as models for characters in the game. After these came test segments showing white men chasing black men and women. White men raping a black woman. A black man being torn apart by dogs. Then there was a note from Stoll.
Real games being hatched from a nest somewhere else. Point of origin well hidden.
There were different angles of black men and women hanging from trees. A bonus round in which a kid raced against a clock while he used black boys on swings for target practice. Martha was stone-faced. McCaskey's lips were rolled tight, his eyes narrow.
Ed— I must've set off an alarm of some kind. People running all around. Our French escort Colonel Ballon has got his hand full of gun.
I'm supposed to get down— bye.
The images continued to come in for a few moments longer but Rodgers wasn't watching them. He had switched to an alternate computer line, and within seconds had been patched through to the cockpit of the V-22 Osprey.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
"Get away from that keyboard!" Using his left hand, Colonel Ballon pushed Matt Stoll to the floor and then pressed a button on his radio as the gunmen entered. In his right hand was his own weapon. It was the only weapon of any kind among the five of them.
Squatting on the floor beside the others, Hood counted twelve… fifteen… a total of seventeen men passing by the door and taking up positions albng the corridor wall. Except for the high windows which would require a small ladder to reach, that door was the only exit.
Hausen was lying face-down between Hood and the crouching Ballon. "Congratulations, Colonel," he said.
"Dominique has swallowed your bait." Hood knew he'd missed something which had passed between the men. Not that it seemed to matter at the moment. Certainly Ballon didn't seem to care. Alert and cool, he was preoccupied with watching the new arrivals.
In the quick glimpse he'd had of the gunmen, Hood made them out to be a ragtag bunch. They were dressed simply, in several cases shabbily, as if they didn't want to stand out in the street. And they were holding a variety of weapons. Hood didn't need Ballon to tell him that these were New Jacobins.
"I guess these guys are the kind of evidence you were looking for, huh," Stoll said anxiously.
"Levez!" one of the men shouted as they trained their weapons around the room.
"He wants us to get up," Ballon whispered. "If we do, they may shoot us." "Wouldn't they have shot us already?" Nancy asked.
"They would have to come in for that," Ballon said.
"They don't know which of us might be armed. They don't want to take casualties." He leaned toward them and said more quietly, "I've signaled my men. They will be moving toward us, taking up positions." "By the time they're ready it may be too late," Hausen said.