Digital Fortress

"Chad!" Fontaine barked, from behind him. Fontaine had seen the look in Midge’s eyes when she left. "Don’t let her out of this suite."

Brinkerhoff nodded and hustled after Midge.

Fontaine sighed and put his head in his hands. His sable eyes were heavy. It had been a long, unexpected trip home. The past month had been one of great anticipation for Leland Fontaine. There were things happening right now at the NSA that would change history, and ironically, Director Fontaine had found out about them only by chance.

Three months ago, Fontaine had gotten news that Commander Strathmore’s wife was leaving him. He’d also heard reports that Strathmore was working absurd hours and seemed about to crack under the pressure. Despite differences of opinion with Strathmore on many issues, Fontaine had always held his deputy director in the highest esteem; Strathmore was a brilliant man, maybe the best the NSA had. At the same time, ever since the Skipjack fiasco, Strathmore had been under tremendous stress. It made Fontaine uneasy; the commander held a lot of keys around the NSA-and Fontaine had an agency to protect.

Fontaine needed someone to keep tabs on the wavering Strathmore and make sure he was 100 percent-but it was not that simple. Strathmore was a proud and powerful man; Fontaine needed a way to check up on the commander without undermining his confidence or authority.

Fontaine decided, out of respect for Strathmore, to do the job himself. He had an invisible tap installed on Commander Strathmore’s Crypto account-his E-mail, his interoffice correspondence, his brainstorms, all of it. If Strathmore was going to crack, the director would see warning signs in his work. But instead of signs of a breakdown, Fontaine uncovered the ground work for one of the most incredible intelligence schemes he’d ever encountered. It was no wonder Strathmore was busting his ass; if he could pull this plan off, it would make up for the Skipjack fiasco a hundred times over.

Fontaine had concluded Strathmore was fine, working at 110 percent-as sly, smart, and patriotic as ever. The best thing the director could do would be to stand clear and watch the commander work his magic. Strathmore had devised a plan… a plan Fontaine had no intention of interrupting.

Chapter 75

Strathmore fingered the Berretta in his lap. Even with the rage boiling in his blood, he was programmed to think clearly. The fact that Greg Hale had dared lay a finger on Susan Fletcher sickened him, but the fact that it was his own fault made him even sicker; Susan going into Node 3 had been his idea. Strathmore knew enough to compartmentalize his emotion-it could in no way affect his handling of Digital Fortress. He was the deputy director of the National Security Agency. And today his job was more critical than it had ever been.

Strathmore slowed his breathing. "Susan." His voice was efficient and unclouded. "Did you delete Hale’s E-mail?"

"No," she said, confused.

"Do you have the pass-key?"

She shook her head.

Strathmore frowned, chewing his lip. His mind was racing. He had a dilemma. He could easily enter his elevator password, and Susan would be gone. But he needed her there. He needed her help to find Hale’s pass-key. Strathmore hadn’t told her yet, but finding that pass-key was far more than a matter of academic interest-it was an absolute necessity. Strathmore suspected he could run Susan’s nonconformity search and find the pass-key himself, but he’d already encountered problems running her tracer. He was not about to risk it again.

"Susan." He sighed resolutely. "I’d like you to help me find Hale’s pass-key."

"What!" Susan stood up, her eyes wild.

Strathmore fought off the urge to stand along with her. He knew a lot about negotiating-the position of power was always seated. He hoped she would follow suit. She did not.

"Susan, sit down."

She ignored him.

"Sit down." It was an order.

Susan remained standing. "Commander, if you’ve still got some burning desire to check out Tankado’s algorithm, you can do it alone. I want out."

Strathmore hung his head and took a deep breath. It was clear she would need an explanation. She deserves one, he thought. Strathmore made his decision-Susan Fletcher would hear it all. He prayed he wasn’t making a mistake.

"Susan," he began, "it wasn’t supposed to come to this." He ran his hand across his scalp. "There are some things I haven’t told you. Sometimes a man in my position…" The commander wavered as if making a painful confession. "Sometimes a man in my position is forced to lie to the people he loves. Today was one of those days." He eyed her sadly. "What I’m about to tell you, I never planned to have to say… to you… or to anyone."

Susan felt a chill. The commander had a deadly serious look on his face. There was obviously some aspect of his agenda to which she was not privy. Susan sat down.

There was a long pause as Strathmore stared at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. "Susan," he finally said, his voice frail. "I have no family." He returned his gaze to her. "I have no marriage to speak of. My life has been my love for this country. My life has been my work here at the NSA."

Susan listened in silence.

"As you may have guessed," he continued, "I planned to retire soon. But I wanted to retire with pride. I wanted to retire knowing that I’d truly made a difference."

"But you have made a difference," Susan heard herself say. "You built TRANSLTR."

Strathmore didn’t seem to hear. "Over the past few years, our work here at the NSA has gotten harder and harder. We’ve faced enemies I never imagined would challenge us. I’m talking about our own citizens. The lawyers, the civil rights fanatics, the EFF-they’ve all played a part, but it’s more than that. It’s the people. They’ve lost faith. They’ve become paranoid. They suddenly see us as the enemy. People like you and me, people who truly have the nation’s best interests at heart, we find ourselves having to fight for our right to serve our country. We’re no longer peacekeepers. We’re eavesdroppers, peeping Toms, violators of people’s rights." Strathmore heaved a sigh. "Unfortunately, there are naive people in the world, people who can’t imagine the horrors they’d face if we didn’t intervene. I truly believe it’s up to us to save them from their own ignorance."

Susan waited for his point.

The commander stared wearily at the floor and then looked up. "Susan, hear me out," he said, smiling tenderly at her. "You’ll want to stop me, but hear me out. I’ve been decrypting Tankado’s E-mail for about two months now. As you can imagine, I was shocked when I first read his messages to North Dakota about an unbreakable algorithm called Digital Fortress. I didn’t believe it was possible. But every time I intercepted anew message, Tankado sounded more and more convincing. When I read that he’d used mutation strings to write a rotating key-code, I realized he was light-years ahead of us; it was an approach no one here had never tried."

"Why would we?" Susan asked. "It barely makes sense."

Strathmore stood up and started pacing, keeping one eye on the door. "A few weeks ago, when I heard about the Digital Fortress auction, I finally accepted the fact that Tankado was serious. I knew if he sold his algorithm to a Japanese software company, we were sunk, so I tried to think of any way I could stop him. I considered having him killed, but with all the publicity surrounding the algorithm and all his recent claims about TRANSLTR, we would be prime suspects. That’s when it dawned on me." He turned to Susan. "I realized that Digital Fortress should not be stopped."