Answers for the Living- Story

 

Answers for the Living-Story

Rain lashed against the windows of Barbara’s house in downtown Honolulu. Barbara Millicent was a brilliant mathematician working as a cryptologist in the NSA and she was just drifting off to sleep at her usual time about an hour past midnight.

Her cell phone rang. She picked it up, “Who is there?”

” It’s me, Horatio.”

“Yes sir, what’s the matter?” asked a perplexed Barbara.

“You need to come here urgently, as soon as possible.”

“But, what’s the reason. What happened? ”

“Come urgently.”

Then the line went dead.

Horatio Magellan was the senior Deputy Director at the Cryptology Department of the National Service Agency. He was like a father to Barbara. He was the one who’d hired her. Magellan was a rangy, thick-fleshed man who demanded for perfection in every operation.

Barbara took the keys of her Volvo Sedan and quickly ignited the engine. After a mile, she was followed by a black cab.

A silhouette leaned out of the cab and shot a bullet on Barbara’s Volvo. The bullet hit the side mirror.

Barbara was panicked. She pressed the clutch and quickly changed the gear and the Volvo was now running at its top speed of 180. Distance between Volvo and the cab was increasing. The assailants fired again, hitting a tyre.  Barbara barely kept it under control for about a mile.  The rubber tyre went off the metal rim. The car now was on three tubeless rubber tyres. Her tyre came off and the car screeched and lurched on the rim, losing its balance as it skidded on three tyres, finally crashing into a tree. She slipped and fell out of the car. Blood flowed from her right temple. She frantically searched for her cell phone on the floor of the car. “Thank God it’s working!” Barbara could barely see or think by now, and her hand trembled as she made a call to Magellan. No one answered. She kept trying. It kept ringing. She gave up on the third try. She tried to see where she was. She was on the 42nd Ave, not quite far from the metro station. She made her way to the station.

The ticketing clerk gaped at her. “Do you need to call the cops, miss?” he offered.

She tried to laugh it away, explaining that she had just met with a minor accident. Maybe going to the cops was the right move. Then maybe it was not such a hot idea. She will have to ask Magellan before doing anything, she decided. She sat on the bench nearby thinking about the person in the cab,” Who might be he? Why he shot on me? “. Then a person came and sat on the same bench. The person took out his Beretta and jammed the pistol into her ribs. At the same time her train came. As soon as she felt the pistol, she got up and ran towards the open gate of the train. The person tried to get hold of his Beretta and ran after her. But she was fast enough to get into the train. The person quickly picked his pistol from the ground. But the train’s doors were now closed.

The train was full of people returning after overtime in their offices. She was not able to find a seat and stood for the journey. She was not able to understand what was going on with her. Every time the train stopped , she feared more. Her stop was last. She got out at her stop, and shakingly walked to the taxi stand and hid behind a closed florist’s counter. She was much feared to take a cab after the incident which happened with her just one and half hour earlier. But there was nothing else she could take.  After she had made sure no one had followed her out, she took a cab. She could hardly bring herself to look at the driver. Was he one of them? She shook the thought from her mind, and directed the cabbie to the NSA complex. The cryptology unit was buried behind the main complex into the woods, separated so much from the main building that it was out of a direct line of sight.

As she made her way to the unit, she noticed there wasn’t a single light on in any of the windows. It seemed like a power blackout, but the electronic entry lock still worked. As she entered using her usual ID, she took her small torch and made her way to the Magellan’s office. The door was ajar. He was sitting in his chair gazing out of the window.

 

Horatio Magellan sat dead in his chair, his life snuffed out by a little hole in his temple. She ran to the other offices, stumbling from one to another in a sort of a daze, unmindful of the horror of the gruesome scene or of the danger to her own life. It seemed surreal. Everyone was dead. The whole cryptology unit had been eliminated. She sat down on the floor and wept. She lost track of time. Then the realization dawned on her. She was the only one who might be able to do something about it. Several questions hung unanswered thickly in the air. Why had a sleepy small unit been targeted? And so cleanly? In the middle of the NSA complex? In the middle of the night? Why was the entire unit there in the middle of the night? They did not really work nights at all. Questions buzzed in and out in the darkness. Why? Was the police compromised? Was NSA compromised? And what about her? She was trained in code breaking, but she had never handled a gun in her short life. She was a sitting duck, and would in all probability be dead by the morning. She stopped the flow of thoughts. So be it. There had to be answers, and they had to be in Magellan’s office. She began checking the CCTV recordings. Nothing. As she rummaged in Magellan’s office, she noticed his computer was still on. She went closer to check and found that the Commander was getting mails from an unknown source - too many in a day. She surfed through the mails. The mails talked of a code - an unbreakable code which could change the whole world of cryptology. Some of mails had samples of coded messages, but no key. She looked for, found a pen drive, and copied the mails. Then she quickly and quietly made her way out of the building. There might be shooter about, she thought as she darted from door to door. There seemed to be a spooky man at the main gate – maybe he was an NSA guard, maybe not. Not taking the chance, she turned about and made her way to the emergency exit. Its existence was a closely guarded secret in the unit. She made her way to parking lot, and found Magellan’s car. She knew where Magellan kept the spare key. It was a precaution she had once thought was paranoid. With a dry smile she realized that the paranoia of a dead man might just save her life tonight! As she drove out of the parking lot, she realized she would have to go somewhere. But where?

She called up an old friend, a now retired field agent named Ted Shackleford. Working the whole night, Barbara broke the code as Ted kept a watch. By 7 in the morning she had a skeleton of a passkey in her hand. It wasn’t perfect but it worked. She was astounded to learn that Ikeuchi Takanaga, a Japanese intelligence operative, was the originator of the code. It didn’t say anything about an attack on the US. Ted tried to persuade his seniors at Langley and the NSA to assign a team to go to Japan and capture Takanaga but drew blanks everywhere.

 They decided that they would go to Japan through the Crypto’s plane, easy to get the criminal to US back again. They scheduled the flight to Kyoto, Japan.   

He had already made arrangements with his friends in the criminal investigation department in Kyoto, and got a safe house assigned. Barbara got quizzical with the next call he got from Konturo. Ted spent half an hour on the phone, and then turned to her. “It’s our lucky day. Takanaga is in the hands of the Yakuza. Apparently he switched sides from the security agencies to the underworld only about 10 days ago. They cut some sort of a deal. Word is it’s about a code the Yakuza want to sell to the Syrians!”

In Kyoto, Ted called up Takagi. He led the Kyoto faction of the Yakuza, and he’d run across him a couple of times. He had a feeling he could chisel Takanaga out of Takagi somewhat easily. He told Barbara to stay put at the safe house, and went out to meet Takagi.

“Well Noriyuki, how are you old cow?”

Takagi did not take the greeting kindly. “Why are you here?”

“We’ll cut straight to the chase. I have the passkey to Ikeuchi’s code. It’s useless to the Syrians. The bosses are very angry at you taking out a whole unit in the US. You’re cooked Takagi. But, just for old times sakes, I can cut you a deal. Give me Ikeuchi. And I will keep you out of the heat. Langley wants Ikeuchi.”

There was a long pause. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Takagi answered.

Ted pressed a small piece of paper in Takagi’s hand. “It’s part of the passkey for the code. Check it out. Takanaga is useless to you.”

Takagi smiled this time. “I still don’t what you’re talking about.” But a twitch betrayed him. Ted smiled. “Check it out.” Ted walked out of the house, glad to be alive and sure that he had done his job.

Takagi later found out that the passkey did indeed match. He didn’t know yet that Ted didn’t really have the whole passkey, or that US agencies had not really connected the dots up to him as of now. What mattered was that Takanaga was useless. He’d have to die. Takagi summoned Hiro for the job. Meanwhile, Ted watched the house from some distance. He phoned Barbara to rent a car, and be ready with the plane to fly out. He asked her to bring the car over.

Hiro took Ikeuchi to the garage and bundled him roughly into the car. Takanaga knew this was not good. Something was fishy. It occurred to him that he might no longer be necessary for the Syrian deal. Maybe Takagi had found a way to cut him out. Maybe there was another programmer in the picture. All he knew was the sudden love that Hiro had developed for fresh air was not good. As Hiro drove out with him to the waterfront, he had an inspiration.

“ You know, Hiro san, I have a new code.”

Hiro just looked at him. He was clueless about codes. And anyway Takagi wanted this guy dead.

“The old one was anyway useless. This one is the works. You do know you could be very rich on it if you can help me sell it.” Hiro was interested now. He dreamt a lot about money, but Takagi always kept him short.

“Keep talking.” He said to Takanaga.

As Ikeuchi kept rambling on the business prospects, Hiro failed to notice the red Mustang come out of the corner and screech as it accelerated. It was too late as the Mustang hit the car and backed off. Hiro hunched over, stunned by the impact and pinned between the wheel and the door. Ted raced out of the Mustang and grabbed hold of Ikeuchi. Ted was a tad surprised as Takanaga didn’t really offer any resistance. Maybe he knew he was about to die. Maybe Ted was his savior. As Ted pressed an old rusty 45 into his ribs, Takanaga felt cold again.

“Welcome to the US, honey” was all he heard in a very sweet voice before he blacked out in the speeding red car on the motorway to the airport.

Ted looked over at Barbara behind the wheel, “It begins now.”