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.He had that gooey look in his eye.Like she'd date a guy who wore a coat and tie to work.An hour later the stuttering of the jackhammer had died down, and they wereinto the shovels and pickaxes portion of the excavation."Got something here," Melvin Cowznofski called out.Jane beat the NYNEX suit to the hole.Partially buried in the dirt was abraided steel cable, half-severed.Twisted strands of copper wire lay exposedto the early-morning light.The strands were protected by bright red rubbertubing."Looks like a phone line," Jane muttered."Let me see," Larry said anxiously, pushing through the ring of gas companyworkers."That look like a phone line to you?" Jane demanded."Yeah.But an old one.It's a copper analogue line.All the cable on theisland is fiber-optic.""Is it a problem?""I gotta call this in.Don't do a thing till I get back." Three minutes laterLarry Lugerman came back, relief on his youthful face."It's okay.They haveno record of it."Jane Kotzwinkle looked at him pointedly."So?""That means you can cut through it, work around it, do anything you want.""Just because they don't have a record of it?"Larry shrugged."If there's no record, it doesn't exist, as far as we'reconcerned.""But it's a phone line.You said so yourself.How can it not exist?""It's probably an old test line upgraded or abandoned years ago that some lazySOB forgot to remove.""You're the authority," Jane said aridly, picking up a pickax and choppingPage 43ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlaway.The line parted.Nothing happened.There was no spark of complaint, notthat anyone expected a spark.As a piece of the copper wire came flying out of the hole, Larry picked it upand said, "Boy, this is really old.They haven't used two-wire lines like thisfor carrying voice since I don't know when." He noticed the red rubbersheathing, looked into the hole and saw that every line in the cable wasprotected by the exact same red rubber coating."This makes no sense," he muttered."They always color code the individuallines.Otherwise, how would the linemen know which lines were which?"Nobody paid him any mind.They were busy excavating the gas pipeline.After awhile Larry dropped the utterly fascinating copper telephone wire and staredat Jane Kotzwinkle's ass as she bent to her work.He was wondering if she was up for lunch.Chapter 12After Harold W Smith got IRS agent Bryce Ballard squared away and out of hisoffice, ledgers in hand, he returned to his desk to punch the concealed studof the CURE computer system.His finger stopped short of the button when a muffled ringing came from theright-hand desk drawer.It was the red presidential phone.Smith dug it out of the drawer and brought the receiver to his ear."Yes, Mr.President?"The Chief Executive's tone was hoarse and urgent."Smith, I need an update forthe hounds of hell.""The White House press corps.Someone leaked the Harlequin story.I've gottato issue a statement to settle things down.""Mr.President, I regret to say I've not been able to get to the matter.""What?""Sir, an IRS revenue agent unexpectedly walked in.""For God's sake, why?"Smith cleared his throat unhappily."Er, it appears I have been targeted foraudit.""What the hell do you do up there that the IRS would want to target you?Scratch that.I don't want to know.If I don't know where you operate out ofor your cover, I have limited deniability.""Very wise, Mr.President."The President pitched his voice low and conspiratorial."Want me to pull a fewstrings? Squash the audit? I can do that-I think.""I am tempted, Mr.President, but for the White House to order the auditsquashed would be so highly unusual as to call undue attention to my coveroperation.""Yeah.Good point.Now, let's get back to this submarine thing."Smith hesitated."Mr.President, there has been another difficultdevelopment.""Yeah.""It appears that the CURE operating fund has been possibly, ah, embezzled.""Embezzled! I thought you and only you controlled that fund.""I do.It appears to be a bank embezzlement.""Well, can't it wait until this Harlequin incident is dealt with?""Without operating funds, I cannot replace the missing gold the Master ofSinanju is demanding in order to start the next contract.""You telling me you don't have any agents?" the President asked sharply."I'm afraid so.""And you're caught between contracts?""Yes.""Smith, what kind of operation are you running there?""One that has suffered a regrettable cluster of setbacks," Harold Smithadmitted, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice."Well, they couldn't have come at a worse time.""I know.""You know I have serious reservations about this operation," the PresidentPage 44ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlcontinued."If it wasn't for the fact that the past President I most admireset you up, I would have shut you down my first week in office.""I have had that sense," Smith admitted."Goddamn it.The country is spending a billion dollars a day servicing thenational debt, and you've let twelve million slip through your fingers.Not tomention another five million in gold bullion lost with that sub.""I am certain it will be recovered.""Well, Well, recover it.""I am trying, Mr.President.All I can say is that my best efforts are beingput forth.""Well, your best efforts aren't worth spit in a wind-"The line went dead.The President's voice was simply cut off.There was noclick.No dial tone.Nothing but dead air.Harold Smith said, "Hello? Hello?" several times and hung up.He waitedexactly thirty seconds by his Timex wristwatch before lifting the receiveragain.Dead air.He repeated the operation twice more with the same disappointingresult and finally replaced the receiver and nervously waited for thePresident to call back.Ten minutes crawled past before Harold Smith knew the President of the UnitedStates wasn't going to call back.Or couldn't call back.For a cold moment Smith wondered if the President, whose voice had been on theverge of being coldly furious, had not simply ripped the red White House phoneout of the baseboard in anger.And in failing him, he had resolved to dissolveCURE.If so, Smith realized after a moment's thought, there was no way he couldissue that directive until the CURE telephone line was restored to workingorder.That gave Harold Smith time to deal with the growing crisis.Again he reached for the concealed stud.Again he withdrew his finger as his intercom buzzed."Mr.Ballard has aquestion," Smith's secretary said."Send him in," Smith said tightly, simultaneously restoring the red telephoneto its desk drawer.Ballard poked his head in and asked, "Dr.Smith, do you have a calculator Icould borrow? The batteries in mine seem to be failing.""Mrs.Mikulka will see to it.""Thanks."The door closed and Smith reached for the stud.The door reopened and Ballardstuck his head in again.His hand hovering under his desk, Smith looked up, trying to keep the tensionout of his patrician face."Do you have any problem with my eating in thehospital cafeteria? It's a long drive to the nearest restaurant, and I'm underpressure to have this audit done by the weekend.""By all means," said Smith, making a mental note to instruct the cafeteriacashier to charge Ballard the higher visitor's price rather than thesubsidized Folcroft employee rate.The door closed again [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]