Digital Fortress Chapter 76-80

Section 76 Outside the Seville air terminal, a taxi sat inert, 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 clearly 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 considered 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 spooky shadows of their bodies out over the ground stage. Susan crawled nearer to the administrator. As they moved away from the entryway, the light blurred, and they were dove into murkiness. The main light on the Crypto floor originated from the stars above and the black out dimness from behind the broke Node 3 window. Strathmore crept forward, searching for where the thin flight of stairs started. Changing the Berretta to one side hand, he grabbed for the handrail with his right. He figured he was most likely similarly as terrible a shot with his left, and he required his appropriate for help. Tumbling down this specific arrangement of steps could disable somebody forever, and Strathmore's fantasies for his retirement didn't include a wheelchair. Susan, blinded by the darkness of the Crypto arch, dropped with a hand on Strathmore's shoulder. Indeed, even at the separation of two feet, she was unable to see the leader's framework. As she ventured onto each metal track, she rearranged her toes forward searching for the edge. Susan started thinking again 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 edgy. He had two choices: Escape Crypto or go to prison. A voice continued disclosing to Susan they should hang tight for David's call and utilize his pass-key, however she knew there was no assurance he would even discover it. She thought about what was taking David such a long time. Susan gulped her misgiving and continued onward. Strathmore plummeted quietly. There was no compelling reason to alarm 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 risk zone. Sound could be anyplace. Out there, presently holed up 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 firearm 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. Sound may hear them. As they moved away from the security 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 tremendous dark ocean. Each couple of steps Strathmore halted, weapon ready, and tuned in. The main sound was the black out murmur from underneath. 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 dimness, apparently directly on them, a sharp blaring penetrated the night. Strathmore spun, and Susan lost him. Dreadful, Susan shot her arm out, grabbing for him. In any case, the officer was no more. The space where his shoulder had been was currently simply void air. She lurched forward into the vacancy. The blaring clamor proceeded. It was close by. Susan wheeled in the obscurity. There was a stir of attire, and abruptly the signaling halted. Susan solidified. A moment later, as though from one of her most noticeably terrible youth bad dreams, a dream showed up. A face appeared legitimately before her. It was spooky and green. It was the substance of an evil presence, sharp shadows extending upward across twisted highlights. She bounced back. She went to run, however it snatched her arm. â€Å"Don't move!† it instructed. For a moment, she thought she saw Hale in those two consuming eyes. Be that as it may, the voice was not Hale's. Also, the touch was excessively delicate. It was Strathmore. He was lit from underneath by a shining article that he'd quite recently pulled from his pocket. Her body drooped with help. She felt herself begin breathing once more. The article in Strathmore's grasp had a type of electronic LED that was emitting 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. Unexpectedly, he'd gone to a neighborhood 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 advanced messages sent and got from this pager were something Strathmore certainly 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, however from the other party Strathmore had sent to Seville. 3,000 miles away, a versatile observation van sped along the obscured Seville lanes. It had been dispatched 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 typically originate from so high up. The specialist 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-point 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 acclimated to working late on ends of the week; the less furious NSA hours were regularly the main occasions he could perform equipment upkeep. As he moved the intensely hot patching iron through the labyrinth of wires above him, he moved with extraordinary consideration; scorching any of the dangling sheathes would be debacle. Simply one more not many 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 bind, his phone rang pointedly. Jabba frightened, his arm jerked, and an enormous glob of sizzling, condensed lead fell on his arm. â€Å"Shit!† He dropped the iron and basically gulped his penlight. â€Å"Shit! Poo! Shit!† He cleaned irately at the drop of cooling patch. It moved off, leaving an amazing welt. The chip he was attempting to bind 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, however 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 alleviation. After sixty seconds the radio overhead popped. â€Å"Would the boss Sys-Sec please contact the principle 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 a crash and Strathmore was sliding 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, however how? As she spun in franticness, she expected to hear the hints of an actual existence and-demise battle on the floor, however there was nothing. Everything was out of nowhere quiet as though Hale had hit the administrator and afterward vanished go into the night. Susan paused, stressing her eyes into the murkiness, trusting Strathmore wasn't do any harm. After what appeared to be an unending length of time, she murmured, â€Å"Commander?† Indeed, even as she said it, she understood her slip-up. A moment later Hale's smell gushed behind her. She turned past the point of no return. All of a sudden, she was contorting, panting for air. She ended up squashed in a recognizable headlock, her face against Hale's chest. â€Å"My balls are murdering me.† Hale gasped in her ear. Susan's knees clasped. The stars in the vault started to turn over her. Part 80 Robust clasped down on Susan's neck and hollered into the haziness. â€Å"Commander, I have your darling. I need out!† His requests were met with quietness. Robust's 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 jumped 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 murder me.† â€Å"I'm not go