Cold Snap (39 page)

"You don't have to be a geek to use one of
these programs," Ahmad continued. "And whoever set up the password
didn't give it any bit strength. 'Tomorrowcomes'. I mean, give me a
break. No numbers or special characters. If you're serious, you're
not supposed to use real words."

"That sounds clear enough," Ari lied.

"I guess I should count myself lucky it isn't
in Arabic."

"But you know Arabic."

"Sorta," Ahmad shrugged. "But there's
something funny here..."

Ari peered at where Ahmad was pointing and
saw yet another incomprehensible string of numbers.

"Yes?"

"Aw cm'on, Colonel...you're military. Look
again."

37.382865, -77.423146.

"GPS coordinates," said Ari.

"Our GPS coordinates," said Ahmad. "I get the
feeling that if I bypass the security on this, it'll send a
signal."

"To the original owners?"

"Who else?"

"Is there any way to prevent it?"

"Not with wi-fi here."

"You mean we rented this expensive computer
room for no reason?"

"No, I needed to get online to see some
codes..." He tapped his own laptop. "Plus get advice. There's all
sorts of guys in cyberspace who get a kick out of this."

"You're communicating with guys in
cyberspace?"

"Sure."

"Will these guys be able to see what is on
this computer when you follow their instructions?"

"Maybe. Does that bother you?"

"Since I don't know what is on this computer,
I can't say."

"When the owners get the signal, they might
activate a worm and erase this hard drive."

"A worm?"

"So it's all a gamble. To top it all, even if
the hard drive isn't erased, the owners might zero in on us. We
won't be able to sleep here, tonight."

"This is most problematic," said Ari.

"It stinks of shit," said Abu Jasim, deep
into his second cup of Thunderbird.

"Well...since we have nothing as it is, and
we're at risk of having brought you all the way down here to no
purpose.... Should we go to a motel without wi-fi?"

"It might not open without access to the
Net," Ahmad sighed. "So...do it?"

"Do it."

Ahmad tapped the touchpad and the login
screen popped up. He typed in the password and then sat back,
popping open his soda and staring at the display.

"OK, we're in. Let's wait and see what
happens..."

Ari waited a minute and then said,
"Well?"

"It looks like we're OK. That doesn't mean
they aren't tracking us right now."

"We will slaughter any stranger who
approaches this room," Ari asserted.

"Aw, shit," said Ahmad.

"Do not be dismayed. Your uncle and I will do
all the shooting." He turned to Abu Jasim, swaying in his third
cup. "My friend, you might want to put aside that poison for the
time being."

"Sure," said Abu Jasim, pouring another
cupful. "I can shoot anything and everybody on a dime."

"C'est une catastrophe," said Ari.

There was a knock at the door. Ari peeked
through the window curtain, nodded, and opened up.

"Ben!"

Ben Torson entered, nodded at Ari. When he
saw Ahmad on the bed he offered a friendly wave. Then he turned and
saw Abu Jasim. His eyes widened in horror.

"Oh shit!" he cried out, staggering
backwards. "Oh shit!"

"Oh shit!" Abu Jasim chuckled, raising his
cup.

"It's you! It's him! Oh shit!"

"Ben!" Ari admonished. "You're swearing! This
is not like you!"

"But it's him! The Number One card!
Saddam!"

Ari was puzzled. "But you met before. He
delivered Uday to you."

"Oh shit! The father sold out his son!"

"You don't know what you see."

"I know what I see!"

Ari turned to Abu Jasim. "Tell him the truth,
that you are not Saddam Hussein."

Abu Jasim bowed. "I am Abu Jasim, Son of
God."

"Oh shit!"

"But did he react this way when he saw you
before?" asked Ari.

"Uh..."

"We put the ski masks back on before meeting
Mr. Torson," said Ahmad from the bed. "You want to hold it down?
I'm getting some wild shit, here."

"Stop your swearing!" Abu Jasim raised his
fist in the boy's direction.

Ari, Abu Jasim and Ahmad had worn Chicago
Bears Super Bowl novelty ski masks to disguise themselves in the
wilds of Cumberland. Apparently, Abu Jasim had thought it prudent
to put the masks on when meeting Ben. Judging from Ben's reaction
now, it was looking to Ari as if it had been a good idea.

"You had Uday, the real Uday!" Ben protested.
"What's to say you don't have the real father?"

"My father was an honest man," said Abu
Jasim. "He was a loser."

"If you trust me you'll believe me," said
Ari.

"I don't know if I trust you."

"Then just believe me. This is Abu Jasim, a
peasant of the lowest order, former fedai to Saddam Hussein—meaning
his body double—until his ass puckered so badly he had to escape.
Which I helped him to do, and which I wished he would remember and
be grateful for."

"Never forget," said Abu Jasim, slopping
himself onto the first bed.

"Would Saddam Hussein ever have been caught
dead in this position?" said Ari, pointing at the evidence.

"No," said Ben. "He had bodyguards to hide
him away."

Ahmad was staring at Ben intently. "Uh,
mister? You might want to look at this."

"His name is Ben Torson," Ari admonished.

"Hey, Mr. Torson. And you might want to look
at this."

"What?"

"You." Ahmad tapped the screen.

CHAPTER TWENTY

It was a photograph of Ben in dress uniform,
with the triangular yellow, blue and red First Armored 'Old
Ironsides' badge on his shoulder. Next to it was a schematic of his
face based on the photo.

"I wouldn't trust it for accuracy," said
Ahmad. "Not many nodes, and the grids are spaced far apart."

"What does it mean?" Ben asked.

"You tell me," said Ahmad. "There's a hundred
or so pictures in here like this. I've only looked at a couple. I
can search by file names...or the person's initials."

He went into Detail View and scrolled down
the list. "You know any of these guys?"

"Can you give another view, with
pictures?"

"You mean thumbnail." He switched to Small
thumbnail view, but skipped Medium and went straight to Large when
Ari grumbled.

"Ah, lots of faces," Ari said, pleased. "But
they all have those facial graphs or whatever you call them next to
them. And you have no idea what it means?"

"Someone converted old pictures of these
people into digital snapshots to create maps of people's
faces...maybe for passports. One thing they have in common, they'd
be perfect for biometric passport photos. Neutral expressions, no
smiles..."

"What would the Puppets be using such things
for?"

"The who?" Ben asked.

"There was a group of Korean importers—"

"You were in the middle of that?" Ben
demanded suddenly.

Ari raised an inquiring eye.

"It's all over the news," Ben continued. "Big
shoot-out, three Korean immigrants beat up...near the Seaboard
Building."

"I may have been in the environment," Ari
admitted.

"Vicinity," Ahmad corrected without glancing
up from the screen.

"Does that alarm you?" Ari asked Ahmad.

"Hey, another gunfight," the boy shrugged.
"Just so long as I wasn't there."

"The killers were downloading information
from the A-Zed computers when we arrived."

"'We'?"

"Perhaps the Koreans were using this as part
of their illegal immigrant database."

"You're losing me," said Ben. "But my
picture's in there and I'm Virginian born and bred."

"When did all this happen?" Ahmad asked.

"A few days ago."

"What's today's date?"

"A geek like you doesn't know the date?" Abu
Jasim half-moaned from the other bed.

"What's wrong with you?" Ari demanded.

"I have a headache."

"Ben, would you be so kind as to dump the
remaining contents of that poisonous grape bottle into the bathroom
toilet?"

"Sure."

"I gave up thinking of dates after Super Bowl
XLI," Ahmad fussed. "When you stuck me in the middle of the woods
and I missed—"

"Yes, yes," said Ari in annoyance. "Why do
you want to know when the mother of all gunfights happened?"

"If that's when they downloaded off the
A-Zed's computers, it would probably be in the Download file. I
mean, if you snatched this away in the middle of all the action,
they wouldn't have had time to rename it. I think this was on the
laptop already."

"What was taken from the company computer,
then?"

Ahmad alt-tabbed and searched the files.
"Here, just what I thought: a big file dated the same day you
executed whoever."

"I did no such thing." Ari made a sound of
protest when Ahmad began fiddling with his own laptop. "You're
looking at the wrong computer."

"I want to download some packet capture
software. Find out if we're being pinged."

"He won't give it up," said Ben, trying to
tug the bottle away from Abu Jasim. "Man, is it ever creepy,
stealing Thunderbird from Saddam Hussein."

"I need the poison for the cure," Abu Jasim
reasoned.

"Leave him be, then," said Ari.

Ben looked at Ari, then back down at Abu
Jasim. In a sudden flash of movement he snatched the bottle out of
the surprised man's hand and marched it to the bathroom. Abu Jasim
began reaching awkwardly under his jacket.

"Don't even think of shooting him," Ari
warned.

"But he's the enemy!"

"That was yesterday. Today he is our
companion in arms."

"Colonel, why don't you—"

Ari gave him a warning glance and Abu Jasim
subsided into a sulk. When Ben came back into the room he looked so
self-righteous that Ari himself was tempted to shoot him. Instead,
he took out his wallet and removed a hundred-dollar bill.

"Ben, could you go to the motel office and
rent the room next door? If this laptop is being tracked...we need
to be prepared. We will use the room as a hunting nest."

"A duck blind?"

"Yes, I believe that's an appropriate
analogy."

"All right..." Ben said uncertainly, taking
the money. "But what if the room's already taken?"

"Abu Jasim will evict them, if he can
stand."

Looking squeamish, Ben went to the door. He
froze.

"I hear someone out there."

Ahmad's head shot up, his face spread in a
grimace. "Shit! You're going to get me killed! Again!"

"Were you killed the first time?" Ari said,
drawing his Glock as Ben stepped away from the door.

There was a knock.

"Who is it?" Ari called out.

"A fucking popsicle! Let me in!"

Ari put his gun back under his coat. "It's
our other guest. You may safely open the door."

The reassurance made little impact on Ben,
who cautiously turned the bolt and jumped back. Elmore Lawson
shuffled into the room. Ahmad let out a breath of dismay. Abu Jasim
and Ben, familiar with the damage war could inflict on the human
body, were still impressed. That was one thing Iraq had not taken
from him. Lawson had always been and always would be an imposing
presence.

"This is Mr. Lawson, a former world
traveler," said Ari. "He will assist us in cremating the bad
people." Before he could be corrected, he added, "Ben, could you
proceed with my request?"

Ben looked down at the balled bill in his
fist. "I'm afraid I mangled your C-note."

Lawson exchanged neutral nods with Ari and
Ben. The nod in Ahmad's direction was met with a frozen stare. Then
he turned to the first bed.

"It's..." He turned to Ben.

"Don't start me to lyin'," said Ben. "Looks
like him to me."

"What are you gaping at?" Abu Jasim glowered
as Lawson turned back to him. "I'm Saddam. Get over it."

"Can I claim the reward, then?" Ahmad said.
Seeing how no one else seemed overwhelmed by pity or horror by
Lawson's presence, he quickly regained his composure.

Ben's eyes brightened. "Is there a
reward?"

"Just you try," snarled Abu Jasim. "But
before you do, run across the street and get me another
Thunderbird."

"Like fun I will," said Ben and left the room
for the office.

A small chime came from the A-Zed laptop.
Glancing down, the young man gave a hiss.

"What is it?"

Ahmad reached into his bag and took out an
external hard drive. He plugged it into the USB port.

"What are you doing?"

"Copying everything on the laptop. We're
being pinged. They know we're in their hard drive."

"Can they stop us from copying it?" Ari asked
tensely.

"Sure, they could send out a 'ping of death'
that would crash the laptop. But if they did that, the GPS would
stop working. They have to keep that going to know if we move."

"They know where we are," Ari sighed.

"Oh, yeah."

"Let them come!" Abu Jasim declaimed and
flopped back on the bed.

"Mr. Ciminon, what have you gotten me into?"
Lawson moaned.

"I thought gunfights 'enabled' you."

Ahmad, keeping half an eye on the laptop,
shifted his eyes from Ari to Lawson. "You've both been in a
gunfight?"

"With some of the same men who we encountered
before, I believe." Ari stood straight. "But now the odds are
better: five against four."

"Count me out!" Ahmad cried.

"Very well, four against four."

Ahmad pointed at his uncle. "And him,
too!"

"Three against four. Still acceptable."

"Uh, I don't want to overdose on enabling,"
said Lawson. "I was in a teleconference with UCLA when you called.
Operation Mend. I'm having some issues."

"Psychological?"