General Miguel leaned forward eagerly as Allan Jameson demonstrated the features of the new security program in the Residence surveillance room. "We've known for some time that the rebels have sympathizers even among the troops," the former UEO officer said, pressing keys. "With this new system, we can monitor all activities within the barracks ..." His voice trailed off as he became aware of Ree entering the room. He remained suspicious of the young woman, especially since the usually cynical and sexually jaded general showed all the classical signs of juvenile infatuation.
Ree, wearing a long, white nightgown with a high neck and carrying a book and a teddy bear, looked apprehensively around, then, seeing the general, her eyes lit up and she skipped into the room, making a wide circuit around the scowling Jameson.
"You promised to read me a bedtime story," she reminded him, leaning trustingly against his side and artfully twirling the top button of his uniform jacket.
"I know, querida, but I'm a little busy right now. Just let me finish up here and then I'll be with you," he replied with tolerant affection. Jameson sniffed audibly.
"Send her away," he ordered his superior officer brusquely. "She has no business in here at all."
General Miguel shot a glare at the other man. He deliberately drew Ree closer as she started to go, cuddling her against his side.
"Watch this, Ree," he said, and ignoring Jameson's start of indignation, he began to show Ree the way the security program worked. After a few moments, she squirmed away, bored.
"I want a story," she demanded petulantly, sticking her lower lip out. "I don't want that. I want a story."
With a rueful grin and shake of his head, General Miguel gave over his attempt to put Jameson in his place and pushed away from the monitor station. He started to shut the program down.
"Ah, Carlos? I still have to finish some initiation sequences?" the security officer reminded him. The general nodded and opened it again. He looked up as a thought occurred to him.
"By the way, Dr. Hermano will be in tomorrow to give Ree an examination. No blood for three days, so he thinks she should be healed enough for him to see what he has to."
"Come on," Ree insisted, tugging at his arm. "I want to go to bed now."
General Miguel blinked, and his face grew crafty. Instead of relinquishing the controls to Jameson, he scrolled down the menu until he came to an option labeled 'Residence'. Quickly, he disabled the a/v security in two rooms, locking them in place with his own personal code.
"I'm turning in for the night. If anything comes up, handle it. I don't want to be disturbed for any reason until the morning." He looked at Ree with a speculative smile, his eyes scanning her body up and down. "I'm going to be busy." Giving his subordinate a curt nod, he finally stood beside her. With one hand in the small of her back, he guided her out of the room.
Jameson gave a rude snort.
"About time, too," he said. "No good comes of coddling broads. None at all. If I'da done what I meant to to that Barlow dame when she first came...." Muttering to himself, he got down to work, his face a mask of disappointed jealous disapproval.
The party was going in full swing. It wasn' toften that the Lost Boys had the opportunity to kick back and raise a ruckus and they were making the most of it.Davide Desejosso sighed with resignation as he pushed the kitchen chair away from the table and the small, mobile aethyrnet computer on it. Malique had brought them to an abandoned estate, several miles away from the city, property of one of the many lost when the Macronesian's had hit the coast. While his compadres used the rest to get wasted, Davide had a more important task, hacking into the computers at the Residence. He closed the door against the noise and returned to his former position, poised and ready to type in whatever commands required.
Almost immediately, the door opened again. Exasperated, the young light-skinned man from the favela looked up, ready to give the intruder the rough side of his tongue, but the sight of his leader muted the protest. Malique carefully closed the door behind him.
"How's it going?" he asked, approaching the table and leaned over to peer into the screen himself. "Any progress?"
Davide sighed again, his attention returning to the screen where a password generation program was trying to work out the way into the military lock down program.
"Unless you count negative progress. I've got a dictionary of not-passwords." He shook his head, feeling helpless. "When we got word that Jameson was installing this, I thought 'great. piece of cake. just pop in lock down the barracks and break the armories wide open. no problem.'"
"Yeah, I remember you saying that," the other man answered. "I wasn't so sure."
"Well, now I think we are going to have to get some kind of inside help. Any word on the UEO officer in the Residence?" Malique shook his head grimly. Davide winced.
"From the briefs we've been getting lately, I thought she was some kind of super secret agent."
"Yeah, but ..." Malique took a deep breath and let it out, his face showing his uncertain feelings. He looked at the door, to make sure it was tightly shut, and leaned over.
"Look, I don't want this to get around, but I think Caesar might have been compormised."
Davide raised his eyebrows. "Dolphinboy? How?"
Malique have his head a quick, hard shake. He stood up and started to pace.
"I don't know. There's nothing I can really put my finger on except... I don't know. But, take this insistence that we wait for the girl to make a move, to get in touch with us. We've had operatives try to pass word to her, and they say she is totally non-compos. A complete idiot. I sent that on, and they came back with 'sit and wait'. We got hold of her medical records. She's never going to recover her full wits, Davide. But I still get 'sit and wait'."
Davide looked thoughtful. It was a breath-taking honor, for Malique to confide in him. He'd admired the older man even before he'd rescued him from certain death twelve years ago, along with the other so-called 'Lost Boys'. When the rest of them were being schooled and taught to fight, Malique had gone to special programs. He was different. Their leader. And Davide didn't want to say anything stupid to him now.
"Maybe ... Maybe it's all a long-term sting operation?" he suggested diffidently. "You know, she's a mole, getting into position to strike?"
Malique winced but nodded, agreeing that was a possibility.
"Or someone's sold us out," he added bitterly.
Shaking himself to dispell the dark thoughts, he managed a crooked smile and patted the other man on the shoulder.
"Oh, well, nothing we can do now. Keep trying Davide. Something's got to give."
He left a troubled computer hacker behind him when he walked out of the room. After a few seconds of staring blankly at the screen, the young man sighed and leaned forward. With computers, he knew exactly where he was.
Chapter 4
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