Sam placed two contact lenses on the table in front of Sheila. She looked at them, then back up at Sam.
“Mr. Nelson will be down here in half an hour.”
“Oh no,” said Sheila.
“And when he does, we’re going to discuss the current conclusions you have been able to draw from our recent investigations,” Sam went on.
“Oh hell no,” said Sheila.
“And I will ask the others in the meeting to observe the monetary allocations we have assessed in my main office,” Sam paused. “At which time, you two will be alone.”
“Sam,” said Sheila.
“We need it. You got another way with such short notice?” replied Sam.
Sam prepared the briefing room for Mr. Nelson and his entourage. Two aides commonly accompanied him. Sheila arrived shortly thereafter.
Sam smiled. “That’s my girl,” he said.
“Fuck you,” Sheila replied.
Mr. Nelson arrived ten minutes late with three aides. One of them waited outside the briefing room, engrossed in the latest assignment Mr. Nelson had tasked. One down, thought Sam. Sam positioned Mr. Nelson at the head of the table with a view of the data projection and with a clear line of sight to a camera Sam had set up against the wall. Sheila was already poised in the adjacent seat. They had arranged the chairs to place Sheila in Mr. Nelson’s field of view while watching the presentation.
Sheila leaned forward in her chair as Sam began the report, seemingly pouring over the analytical details to cross check Sam’s facts. She had unbuttoned her shirt enough to reveal the pink lace hidden under the button-up. As she leaned in, her breasts pressed against the buttons, creating the allusion that they might break free, giving a happy onlooker the best view in the room. When Sam began noticing Mr. Nelson’s distraction, he started to pose question after question. After five minutes of this back and forth, Sheila leaned back in her chair voiding the previous view, which Mr. Nelson had been the lucky recipient of.
“So Mr. Nelson, as you can see from that last set of data, there is no conclusive evidence. What would you like to do in this case?”
By this time, Mr. Nelson obviously had no idea what Sam was talking about and the hesitation in his answer prompted Sam for the next move. “Mr. Nelson, Sheila has the data summarized according to a different model, which might describe the financial implications a little bit more clearly.”
Sheila leaned in once again as Mr. Nelson glanced over at her.
“Why don’t I go over some of the legalese with these two gentlemen, while Sheila gives you,” Sam paused, “the quick and dirty?”
Mr. Nelson awkwardly rearranged himself and sat up a bit straighter, stuttering to answer Sam.
“Yes. Yes Sam. That is an outstanding idea.”
With that, Sam led the other two from the room, closing the door behind them.
****
Amazingly, another button seemed to have come undone from Sheila’s form fitting blouse. She began relating the substance of Sam’s brief to Mr. Nelson in excruciating detail. As she did so, she moved closer and closer to him, aiming to give him a better vantage at what she was talking about or anything else that might continue to capture his interest for that matter. Within ten minutes, Mr. Nelson was completely lost.
“So, what do you think?” Sheila asked with a pathetic attempt at a giggle. The schoolgirl façade was not her forte. Luckily for her, she could have spit in Mr. Nelson’s face at this point and he still would have found her charming.
Mr. Nelson looked up, following her question. Sheila leaned in, now scarcely an inch away, peering deep into his eyes. As she did so, she brushed his lapel exposing the passkey, pretending to wipe a piece of lint from Mr. Nelson’s otherwise immaculate suit.
“Sure,” he said dreamily.
“Great,” said Sheila as she stood with her equipment and walked to the door. “Sam, all done. Mr. Nelson is on board. Right, Mr. Nelson?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Sheila,” stammered Mr. Nelson as Sam led him out to the hallway to meet his aides.
After he had gone, Sheila handed over the contacts. “I need a shower,” she said and walked out.
****
The contact lenses were developed to image a person’s own eyes. The common medical use, a means to preserve the characteristics of a person’s eyes while at a young age, provided a template for replacements should they deteriorate. With a little engineering, the lenses could be turned inside out, now enabling the outer side of the lenses to do the imaging. As with any lens, the quality of the reproduction is proportional to the distance to the subject. Sheila had been able to take a snapshot of Mr. Nelson’s eyes with the contact lenses while capturing his passkey on the camera across the room. Sam flipped the lenses inside out, now ready to be worn again. Good girl, thought Sam as he accessed the images on the camera positioned across from Mr. Nelson. Sam cropped the image to the size of his own passkey and printed the result. After Sam had pasted the image over the spare passkey blueprints, he packaged it all together for Charlie.
****
Charlie relaxed in the plush seat on the British Airways flight to Istanbul. On either side of him were Pam and Dan, both enjoying the service and complimentary cocktails provided around the clock. They had splurged for the added luxury of First Class presuming their excursion would end either with them saving the world or in a body bag. Pam sipped her champagne and leaned against the armrest attached to Charlie’s seat. He smiled, content to stay on this airplane forever.
Charlie had the passkey and lenses packed into his carry-on. Now, all he needed was for Timber to come through. He had his doubts well before Dan had laid out all the reasons why they shouldn’t trust her. The simple question though, was, who else? If they didn’t turn to Timber for help, who were they going to rely on? It’s not like Dan and Charlie grew up on the mean streets of the hood and had computer savvy gangster friends on speed dial. Timber was their only solution.
Istanbul has been at the heart of the world for centuries. Whether as Byzantine, Constantinople, or City 21, there was no denying the volume of life that emanated from the city’s core. The World Government chose Istanbul as the head of its world headquarters for two reasons. It was an immense city with easy access to multiple continents. And it gave citizens from around the world the perception that this government was in touch with the past.
The second theory was subsequently toppled when the government destroyed the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia, carving out an enormous piece of land overlooking the Golden Horn. The state of the art multiplex system built on top of the ruins that dwarfed an already enormous city was designed to project the power of the government across the world. The Proxy sat south of where the Blue Mosque stood. The location provided access to the city while capable of being defended from its isolated position. The government established security measures to control the flow of people in and out of the giant landscape.
Charlie, Dan, and Pam spent the day touring the carpet shops surrounding the area. As a display of good will, the World Government had spared the hundreds of carpet vendors in this cultural district. The three were met by welcome sales pitches and homemade Turkish coffee as they cased the area. None of them knew what exactly to look for. Again, Charlie winced at their reliance on Timber. It was even more evident as they strolled the sprawling streets that Timber’s part in this process was critical.
Dan hired a trusty steed at one of the rental bike stands, leaving the other two to get a better beat on the area. Dan was in his element, despite being half way across the world, cruising up and down the thoroughfares of Istanbul. Charlie instructed Dan and Pam to ensure they maintained at least three good escape routes at all times. Dan’s job was to internalize the maps they were carrying, including memorizing the nuances of each of the streets in the district. A compromised mission followed by a dead end street would prove disastrous for them all.
While Dan was gone, Charlie and Pam took a ferry to the Asian side of the c
ity. They sat outside on the deck of the ferry, enjoying the hot summer air. Technology abounded, but Istanbul had retained many of its customary forms of transportation. It was a unique mix of ultramodern with a twist of traditional. They relaxed, breathing in the salty air on this old diesel ferry, while beholding the monstrous headquarters that dwarfed the surrounding landscape. Pam leaned into Charlie’s shoulder while they both rested on the guard railing, enjoying everything and each other at the same time.
They stepped off the ferry and headed for a communications bank located in the heart of the city.
“Do you think she’ll do it?” asked Pam as they traipsed through the streets that dissected the city. Food stalls and open-air markets had been erected throughout the urban spider web in an attempt to avoid the heavy taxation levied within the city.
“She better or our adventure stops here,” replied Charlie. He wanted to sound reassuring when he answered Pam but the attempt failed. Instead, a strong sense of desperation escaped his mouth, which surprised even him.
Pam grabbed his arm and squeezed it gently. She then took his arm in hers, and they walked the rest of the way as if they were an old married couple, out for an afternoon stroll.
The fantasy ended as they approached the tech center.
“Trust your nerves,” Pam said.
Charlie looked at Pam and nodded.
“I think I count on them more than you do. Just adapt to what you see in there.”
They split up a block from the center and entered a few minutes apart. Charlie went straight for the terminals, while Pam grabbed a cup of apple tea at the counter. She stood at one of the tabletops sipping her tea, scanning the crowd for anything that might be unusual. Recording devices covered every inch of the center. The cameras most likely employed facial, body, and voice recognition software, which could pinpoint individuals in an instant. So far, no one had approached them. So far, no one was looking for them.
Charlie retrieved the scrap of paper Timber had passed him at their last meeting. He brought up the site, which would prove to be life or death for them. The site chugged away at a snail’s pace, processing the inputs he made. Despite improvements in every sector of commerce, there still remained the same old problems. Internet speed wasn’t quite the same issue as world hunger, but right now it felt similar to Charlie.
Timber had loaded the files as requested. In them, contained the entry control points for The World Government offices, along with schematics showing where The Proxy and associated technical support were housed. She had delivered the way into the enemy’s lair. He downloaded the rest of the files, which, if they did their job, would now destroy that enemy. After he was finished, Charlie logged onto a separate secure server he had set up prior to departing for Istanbul. He loaded the files onto the server. He then sent a message from his secure messaging service that was hosted on the same server.
Jerry, we’re happy to report our vacation is going well. We’ll be visiting the key highlights in the next two days. I’ve posted some of our favorite places of interest. Expect an update in two days, not longer. Should you ever wish to bring the family and enjoy the cradle of civilization, please reference the files I have uploaded. The password is our long lost hangout, taken from us that one fateful evening. He hoped Jerry would understand. He couldn’t risk being candid, not if it meant risking Jerry and his family.
Charlie erased what he could of his history, and then walked out, jumped on a tram, and met Pam at a bar on the south side of the city.
“Well?” asked Charlie.
“I stayed there for another thirty minutes. No one used the terminal you were at. Doesn’t mean they couldn’t access what you were doing from a remote location,” responded Pam.
Charlie nodded. “What’s done is done. If they did, we’re screwed. Nothing we can do about it now.”
After a few drinks, they left to meet Dan, who was waiting back on the European side of the city. The rest of the night, the three spent studying the diagrams Charlie had downloaded. They had found a small pizza, beer, and wine bar decorated with brick facade. Upstairs the three sat at an isolated booth overlooking the street and downstairs dining area. They laughed and drank as only old friends could. In the past six months, the three had been through more than most do in a lifetime. Their intent study turned into a raucous party, draining liter after liter of wine while telling stories of shame, laughing at each other in the process. Eventually the three stumbled back to their room, the fate of the world resting upon their shoulders.
****
“Fuck,” groaned Pam as she rolled out of bed.
“Me first,” Dan mumbled as he crawled to the toilet, placing his face over the rim and letting loose last night’s pizza. He slumped to the side of the toilet, laying his head against the tile floor, a hapless spectator as Pam also rid herself of dinner.
Charlie rushed in moments later, yelling, “Get up. We have a meeting.” As he finished his sentence, he got a view of the mixture Dan and Pam had made. Seconds later, he rushed to the bathtub, repeating the events for a third time. A half hour later, they were on their way to the most important meeting of their lives.
“Do you think this helps or hurts?” Dan asked as they ambled to The Corporation’s main office.
“Well, at least I don’t give a fuck about anything other than my pounding head,” responded Pam.
“Always looking on the bright side,” responded Charlie.
“Please, face the imager. Keep your eyes open. Don’t blink,” said the girl at the front desk.
Charlie peered into the security device, contacts firmly in place. He prayed they hadn’t been dislodged.
“Thank you sir. Your passkey matches. Good afternoon, Mr. Nelson. Your business with us today?”
“I have a meeting with Dr. Buscher in twenty minutes. Please check your schedule. She was only able to pencil me in for five, so I cannot be late,” said Charlie.
“Yes, sir. Hold on one moment,” said the girl.
“Here it is Mr. Nelson. Mr. Frederick here will accompany you up to Dr. Buscher’s office.”
“Sure thing,” said Charlie, faking control. “Mr. Frederick’s company is most welcome. I have been here many times, so his help, while very much appreciated, is not necessary.” Charlie maintained the phony smile, struggling to hold eye contact, feigning a cavalier attitude regarding the entire scenario.
After a moment’s hesitation, the girl spoke again. “Of course, sir. I see your two assistants should be able to attend to everything you need. Please.” With that, she pointed to the fast track pathways that whisked its customers to their desired section of the company. A map of the building hung at the entrance to each fast track terminal. All Charlie had to do was touch his destination for the system to engage.
Charlie stared at the map for an eternity, forgetting where Dr. Buscher’s office was.
Pam leaned over and selected the correct location. “Allow me, sir,” she said. A clear encasement encircled the three of them and they were transported directly to Dr. Buscher’s office. They arrived seconds later, ten feet from an assistant’s desk in front of the main office.
“Mr. Nelson, welcome to Istanbul and The Corporation’s main office,” said the assistant as Charlie walked up. “I see you are scheduled with Dr. Buscher in fifteen minutes. She is currently attending to delicate matters for the company but will be here promptly in order that your meeting may start at the prescribed time. If you would like, you can wait in the lounge to your right. There are refreshments and various forms of entertainment should you so desire. Your two assistants can also remain there for the duration of the visit,” ended the assistant with a grand smile.
Charlie had been counting on Pam and Dan’s help. “Is it possible for them to attend as well? I would like to guarantee I miss no information during my conference with Dr. Buscher,” replied Charlie.
“I’m sorry, sir. That is most irregular. We have security protocols that limit exposure within our compan
y to those with a need to know. As you are the head of City 55’s main office, you of course may access the information deemed necessary by Dr. Buscher. We have not verified the security requirements of your assistants,” finished the assistant who then went back to answering calls. She was clearly through with the conversation.
The three sat within the plush waiting room, clearly unsettled by the change to their choreographed scenario yet to be enacted. What the hell were they going to do now? The plan had been for all three to meet with Dr. Buscher. Under the guise of improving The Corporation, Charlie aimed to pitch City 55’s new efficiency protocols to Dr. Buscher. These procedures would eliminate additional nodes of communication currently employed when surveillance is uploaded to The Proxy.
Timber had long been exploiting weak points during these instances of information transfer and offered up two of them to Charlie in order that he present a legitimate improvement for The Corporation. During the presentation, Dan or Pam had the unenviable job of placing a passive sensor in the room. Again, designed by Timber’s team, the sensor absorbs information. The biggest threat was if someone came across the little device. Now, with Charlie as the sole participant, he would have to hide the sensor in an inconspicuous location while still engaging Dr. Buscher with his presentation.
Hung-over minds raced, formulating plans to help Charlie pull off this feat. They all suspected surveillance within the waiting room, limiting Pam and Dan to mere small talk. All the while, Charlie was drowning. Once inside, he had five minutes to fulfill his task. One misstep would highlight their whole operation. The plan rested on the element of surprise and swift movement of the teams here and back in Timber’s offices. Timber’s team was currently intercepting all communication between Istanbul and San Francisco, checking conversations and digital messages that might allude to the meeting City 55’s top man was having with Dr. Buscher. It was only a matter of time before the dots were connected and their covert operation ruined.
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