"So,"Alastair said, "you were saying?"
Dar wished she wasn't saying. "We have a problem. Verizon sent over the wrong type of fiber optics cable. They didn't realize it until they'd already rolled it part of the way out, and there's none of the right type anywhere near here."
Alastair folded his hands on the table. "I see."
"Aside from that, the path from the subway up to our office is problematical, and we don't know if we can bring the cable from the other subway to the one near the office," Kerry added. "But that's all pretty minor. The cable type isn't."
"Won't work?"Alastair asked. "Or is it just tough to make work?"
"Won't work," Dar said. "Not without optics that don't exist yet." She cleared her throat a little. "I've asked our networking vendor to look into it, but the design cycle for those things is around two years."
Alastair checked his watch, then looked at her. "Doesn't sound good. What's our plan B?"
"We have no plan B." Dar's voice remained quite steady. "If this doesn't work, it doesn't work. I won't have the right cable in until Wednesday, maybe Tuesday night. It weighs half a ton."
"I see." Her boss digested this. "Well. That sure sounds like a problem." He twiddled his thumbs, pondering the news.
Dar waited, watching his face. She'd known Alastair long enough to predict most of his responses, but the situation they were in was so extraordinary she found herself unable to imagine what he was thinking, much less what he would say.
She'd gotten used to the idea that they were screwed. At this point,she really wanted to get it all over with.
"Okay," Alastair finally said. "If it happens, it does. If not, I'll deal with it." He smiled as the waitress brought back tall, fragrant glasses of ice tea. "Thank you, that looks great." He took a sip. "I wish I could work up a froth over it ladies, but to be completely honest with you, I'm pretty much out of arm waving."
"Me too," Dar agreed. "I can't even get mad at the jackass from Verizon. He was scared enough to be wetting his pants. He just wanted out of that room."
"I think he thought he was doing the right thing," Kerry murmured.
"Probably did,"Alastair said. "I take it we're going to keep trying,right? I mean, we're not going to walk away from this, are we?" He cocked his head and regarded his table mates."I'm not going to say anything to the government people, of course. Let them think whatever they want."
Dar hesitated.
"We'll keep going." Kerry spoke up. "Because you never know until it's over, that it's over. I've learned that the hard way over the past couple of years."
Alastair nodded. "Is there anything more we can do? Anyone I can call and take my frustration out on?"
Dar shook her head. "Me." She added, after a pause, "Since I'm the one who didn't check to make sure they were using the right damn cable"
"You can't idiot proof the world, Dar." Alastair dismissed her admission with a gesture. "Fella who brought the stuff over to his own people to run should have known." He added, "I know we're trying to help out here, but hellfire."
Kerry smiled warmly at him, aware of the vaguely sheepish expression on her beloved partner's face. "We expect everyone else to be as good as we are. We get bit with that sometimes," she remarked. "You get used to people performing at a certain level which our people do,but not everyone else does."
"Exactly," Alastair said. "So Dar, don't be silly. It's not your fault." He peered around, pausing to watch the sushi chef behind the bar."That's the cook?"
"That's the sushi chef," Kerry said. "We usually sit near the bar at the sushi place near our office down south and watch him work. It's like food art."
"Interesting culture." Alastair commented. "Been to Japan a few times, to our regional office there. They're always wanting me to send Dar over to visit them for some reason."
"Some miso soup?" The waitress was back, with three steaming bowls. She set them down with spoons then smiled and vanished again."
Kerry settled in to enjoy her soup, her eyes drifting idly past their table at the small crowd around them. It was late for lunch, and the restaurant was only a quarter full, most of the tables with one or two occupants either engrossed in their papers or staring off into the distance as they waited for their meals.
"Is this tofu?" Alastair asked.
"Yes." Dar lifted her bowl and sipped directly from it, cradling it in both hands. "I'm not fond of it."
He studied the white block, and then bit into it gingerly, chewing and swallowing with a noncommittal expression on his face. "Hmph. Doesn't taste like anything."
"That's why I don't like it," Dar said.
Kerry let the conversation flow past her. She watched three men enter, and look around, then motion at the hostess. They were heavyset,and all had dark hair and irritated expressions. They pointed at a table, and walked over to it, sitting down as the waitress hurried over with menus.
"Gimme a pitcher of coke," one said. "Then get lost. "
Kerry's lip twitched. The waitress didn't seem fazed, though. She brought back a pitcher and three glasses, put them on the table, and walked away without a word. Was it the men being rude? Or was it something typical for New York that the woman was well used to?
"Ker?"
Kerry started, and turned her head. "Sorry. Just thinking." She scooped up a spoonful of mushrooms and tofu and munched them contentedly. Tofu didn't taste like much, it was true, but she liked the texture and the contrast between the silky blocks and the other vegetables in the soup.
"So anyway," Alastair lowered his voice, "after I got off the phone with the guy at the FBI main office, another fella called me and asked for something else, wanted to know if we had any telephone records from our customers."
"Telephone?" Dar's brows knit. "Did it not occur to them to call the telephone company for that?"
"Hell if I know. That's what I asked him. They were looking for something else though, they said something about narrowing the focus."
"But why our customers?"
"Maybe they asked the phone company, and they got what they asked for," Dar said. "And it was a trillion one line entries in tapes delivered in a big box on their doorstep. There's such a thing as too much data."
The waitress appeared with three plates. She set them down and smiled. "Please enjoy."
"Thanks, we will." Kerry glanced around, as the woman left. "Don't they need to have court orders for this kind of thing, Alastair? What's the legal part of this?"
Alastair was studying his sushi roll. "Now, what in the hell am I supposed to do with this?" He asked. "As for the legal stuff, I tossed that over to Ham. I'm not about to cough anything up without a subpoena, but y'know, he heard rumblings that someone told them they didn't need one."
"What?"
"Chopsticks." Dar held them up. "Put them in your hands like this." She demonstrated, watching him try to imitate her. "Or pick the damn things up with your fingers. We don't care."
"Dar." Kerry remonstrated her. "It's not that hard--here--do it this way."
Alastair bemusedly studied her fingers. "That's what Ham said they said." He continued the conversation as he tried to make the sticks come together. "That they didn't need any court order, they had orders from high up to get what they needed, however they had to."
"Wow."
"Scared Ham." Having achieved dubious success, Alastair applied the chopsticks to the sushi roll. "Not much does."
"So what does that mean for us?" Dar asked, fiddling with her own implements. "Is he saying we should--what is he saying?"
"Y'know, Dar..." Alastair studied the bit of sushi. "Now what?" He looked at Kerry.
"Dunk it like this." Kerry motioned with her own piece of sushi, dipping it into the little bowl of soy sauce near her plate. "Then you eat it."