Digital Fortress Chapter 27

On the Crypto floor, the shadows were exploitation hanker and faint. Overhead, the automatic lighting gradually increased to compensate. Susan was still at her terminal silently awaiting news from her tracer. It was taking longer than expected.Her understanding had been wandering-missing David and unbidden Greg wedge to go home. Although sweep up hadnt budged, thankfully hed been silent, engrossed in whatever he was doing at his terminal. Susan couldnt care less what squeeze was doing, as long as he didnt access the Run-Monitor. He obviously hadnt-sixteen hours would have brought an audible yelp of disbelief.Susan was sipping her third cup of tea when it finally happened-her terminal beeped once. Her pound quickened. A flashing envelope icon appeared on her monitor announcing the comer of E-mail. Susan shot a quick glance toward drag. He was absorbed in his work. She held her breath and double-clicked the envelope.North Dakota, she whispered to herself. Lets suck up who y ou are.When the E-mail opened, it was a champion line. Susan read it. And then she read it again.DINNER AT ALFREDOS? 8 PM?Across the room, Hale muffled a chuckle. Susan checked the message header.FROM email protected Susan felt up a surge of anger only when fought it off. She deleted the message. Very mature, Greg.They make a great carpaccio. Hale smiled. What do you say? Afterward we could-For touch on it.Snob. Hale sighed and turned back to his terminal. That was strike eighty-nine with Susan Fletcher. The brilliant female cryptologist was a constant frustration to him. Hale had often fantasized about having shake with her-pinning her against TRANSLTRs curved hull and taking her right there against the warm obscure tile. nevertheless Susan would have nothing to do with him. In Hales mind, what made things worse was that she was in love with any(prenominal) university teacher who slaved for hours on end for peanuts. It would be a pity for Susan to dilute her superior gene pool procreating with some geek-particularly when she could have Greg. Wed have perfect children, he thought.What are you working on? Hale asked, trying a different approach.Susan said nothing.Some group player you are. Sure I cant have a peek? Hale stood and started moving around the circle of terminals toward her.Susan sensed that Hales curiosity had the potential to urinate some serious problems today. She made a snap decision. Its a diagnostic, she offered, travel back on the commanders lie.Hale stopped in his tracks. Diagnostic? He sounded doubtful. Youre spending Saturday running a diagnostic instead of playing with the prof?His name is David.Whatever.Susan glared at him. Havent you got anything better to do?Are you trying to get rid of me? Hale pouted.Actually, yes.Gee, Sue, Im hurt.Susan Fletchers eyes narrowed. She hated being called Sue. She had nothing against the nickname, but Hale was the only one and only(a) whod ever used it.Why dont I help you? Hale offered. He was suddenly circling toward her again. Im great with diagnostics. Besides, Im dying to see what diagnostic could make the mighty Susan Fletcher come to work on a Saturday.Susan felt a surge of adrenaline. She glanced down at the tracer on her screen. She knew she couldnt let Hale see it-hed have too many questions. Ive got it covered, Greg, she said.But Hale kept coming. As he circled toward her terminal, Susan knew she had to act fast. Hale was only a few yards away when she made her move. She stood to meet his towering frame, stoppage his way. His cologne was overpowering.She looked him straight in the eye. I said no.Hale cocked his head, apparently intrigued by her odd display of secrecy. He playfully stepped closer. Greg Hale was not ready for what happened next.With unwavering cool, Susan pressed a single force finger against his rock-hard chest, stopping his forward motion.Hale halted and stepped back in shock. patently Susan Fletcher was serious she had never touched him before, ever. It wasnt quite what Hale had had in mind for their first contact, but it was a start. He gave her a long flummox look and slowly returned to his terminal. As he sat back down, one thing became perfectly clear The lovely Susan Fletcher was working on something important, and it sure as shooting as hell wasnt any diagnostic.