Chapter 6 Chapter 6

Susan was still distraught by this confrontation with Halle.She considered whether she should call Strathmore. Susan sometimes sees David in Strathmore.They have a lot in common --- tenacity, selfless dedication, quick-witted.Her thoughts were interrupted by the "hissing" sound of the pneumatic door opening.Strathmore stopped suddenly when he saw Greg Hale. "Good evening, Mr. Hale," he said, frowning, eyes narrowed. "Saturday too. How do we have the honor?" Hale said with a serious smile: "Just hope I can do a good job." "I see," murmured Strathmore, apparently planning a countermeasure.After a while, it seemed that he, too, had decided not to bother himself.He turned to Susan calmly, "Ms. Fletcher, can I have a few words with you? Is it okay outside?"

Susan hesitated. "Ah... yes, sir." She glanced uneasily at the monitor, then at Greg Hale across the way. "Please wait a moment." After tapping the keyboard a few times quickly, the screen immediately went black. "What the hell is he doing here?" "Still the same," replied Susan, "nothing." Strathmore looked worried. "He didn't say anything about TRANSLTR?" "No. But if he goes into the running display and finds that it's showing seventeen hours, he'll have something to say." Strathmore considered it. "There's no reason he'd be in the running monitor."

"You're sending him home?" "No. We'll let him go." Strathmore glanced at the Systems Security office. "Has Chartrukian gone?" "I don't know. I didn't see him." "My God," murmured Strathmore, "it's a lot of fun in here." He stroked the stubble that had just grown out in the past thirty-six hours. "Is there any news from the tracking program? I don't feel like I'm making any progress." "Not yet. Any news from David?" Strathmore shook his head. "I told him not to call me until he found the ring."

Susan looked surprised. "Why not? What if he needs help?" Strathmore shrugged. "I can't help here - he's on his own. Also, I don't want to talk to him on an unsecured phone in case someone eavesdrops." Behind the one-way glass of Branch Three, Hale glanced outside at the Deputy Director and Susan.Then he carefully pressed five keys on Susan's keyboard.A moment later, her monitor lights up again. In Branch No. 3, each terminal is equipped with an identical detachable keyboard.One night, Hale took his keyboard home and installed a chip that registered every keystroke.This allowed Hale to get the code without any effort.

Hale steals PINs just for the thrill of it.He was happy now that he had succeeded, and the program that appeared on Susan's computer screen looked like a big deal.This is by no means a diagnostic procedure.He only knew the meaning of a few of the words, but that was enough.Tracker Searching... "Searching for what?" Halle immediately felt uneasy.Taking a good look at the screen, glancing up at Strathmore and Susan, Hale began to improvise. A moment later, the computer beeped. The tracking process has been suspended, and Hale has a smile on his face.No matter what she was looking for, she could only continue to wait.In order not to leave any traces, Hale skillfully deleted all the commands just typed, and then re-entered Susan's personal password.

The display screen suddenly turned black. Greg Hale was sitting quietly in front of his terminal when Susan Fletcher returned to Branch Three. Hotel Alfonso XIII is a small 4 star hotel.Behind the counter marked "Receptionist" stood a tall, slender, well-dressed man. "What can I do for you, sir?" "Mr. Roldan from Bellany Escorts told me you could—" The receptionist waved Baker to be silent, and glanced nervously around the hall. "Speak this way, please." He led Baker to the end of the counter. "Now," he went on, almost in a whisper, "what can I do for you?"

Baker lowered his voice and continued: "I want to say a few words to one of his escorts. Her name is Rocio. I want to see her immediately." "But, sir, she is present with a visitor." Baker nodded, apologized, and then said, "I have something very important. I can do it in a while. Is she in the restaurant?" "The restaurant closed half an hour ago. I'm afraid Rocio and her guests have gone to bed. If you want to leave her a message, I can give it to her tomorrow morning." number of the message box. "I'll just call her room—" "Sorry," the receptionist replied, the previous politeness gone. “Hostel Alfonso XIII has strict rules regarding guest privacy.”

"Sorry to bother you." He turned and walked back to the hall.There are pens and envelopes on the table.Baker put a blank piece of paper into an envelope, sealed it, and wrote on the envelope: Rocio. Then he put the envelope on the counter. "Thank you." Baker smiled and turned to leave. The wary receptionist, sure that Baker had turned around, picked up the envelope from the counter and turned to the numbered slot on the wall behind.The instant he dropped the envelope into one of the slots, Baker turned and asked one final question: "Where can I get a taxi?" The timing was perfect.The receptionist's hand was being drawn from the box labeled "Suite 301."