Calculated Risk

by Stephanie Doyle

  “We don’t have time for childishness,” he said dismissively. But he must have sensed her stubbornness and finally complied.

  Tugging on the sweats, she thrust her feet into a pair of flip-flops that were only ever used to get her from her room to the shower down the hall, but they were the closest things to shoes he was going to give her time to find. He found her coat on the floor where she’d dropped it and tossed it to her.

  “Let’s go.”

  She followed him out of the convent to a car that was waiting by the door. The engine was still running. Technically, they were on the Langley compound, but the distance to the Comm center was great enough that it warranted driving.

  “So what’s this about?” she asked as soon as Quinlan hit the gas.

  “It will be easier to explain when we get there. But you should know that this was my idea. Don’t make a fool out of me.”

  “Okay, no pressure there.” Her curiosity was raging, but she didn’t bother to ask him about it again. If he wanted her to wait, she would wait.

  They drove up to a square squat building that was attached to the main complex by a walkway, but this building had its own entrance. It also descended to three levels underground, which Sabrina learned when Quinlan hit the down button on the elevator.

  She could feel the tension in the silence and understood that, whatever this was, it was no drill. The elevator doors opened to a long linoleum-covered hallway that had only one door at the very end.

  “Any minute now a metal wall is going to come crashing down behind me, right?”

  He stared at her in bewilderment.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “Too many Get Smart reruns.”

  After that she closed her mouth and followed him down the long corridor. They reached the door at the end and he punched in a code. A beep sounded and they stepped inside to find a small group of men waiting for them.

  One was dressed in full military dress-green for army-with enough hardware on his chest to make him somebody ultraimportant. He had a puffed chest and face that looked as if it was carved from stone. Next to him was an assistant director at the Farm that Sabrina recognized. The same man who had come to see her at the shooting range.

  Two tech-geek guys, in clothes that had seen at least two sequential sunsets, sat at a panel that took up most of the room. It was basically a big long computer, with four different monitors of information that kept scrolling numbers at lightning speed, and two keyboards that were built into the unit. Their eyes were pinned to the monitors. They didn’t even turn around to look at her.

  “Cool,” she said smiling.

  The army man spoke first. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Sir, this is-” Quinlan began, but was instantly cut off.

  “A little girl. We’re running out of time and you brought me a little girl.”

  “I am almost nineteen,” Sabrina protested, tired of her age always being a thing. But she quickly shut up when Quinlan wrapped a hand around her upper arm and squeezed with enough pressure to let her know now wasn’t the time to shoot her mouth off.

  “Sir,” the AD said, “we’re running out of options. The NSA has gotten nowhere. Our various code-cracking programs are coming up empty. Ms. Masters is exceptional. We should give her a chance.”

  If it was possible, the army dude’s face got even harder. Then the AD nodded to Quinlan.

  “Sabrina, what we’re about to tell you is classified. I know I don’t have to elaborate.”

  He didn’t. She got it. Big secret. Shut mouth.

  “One of our assets in Iran made contact. He has information regarding a mobile chemical lab that he believes has the potential for producing smallpox in mass quantities. We need to find the location of the lab and photograph it before it can be moved or broken down as proof of this country’s illegal weapons activity. And then, of course, we need to destroy it.”

  “Right. How did he pass the information?”

  Quinlan reached for a paperback book that was sitting next to one of the keyboards and handed it to her. The cover indicated it was a crossword puzzle book. But when she flipped through the short pages she could see that all the puzzles consisted of letters and numbers.

  “We believe the location of the lab is embedded in the puzzles.”

  “The asset can’t tell you-”

  “He’s missing. Soon after he was able to get the book out we lost contact. We have no idea how long the lab will stay put, which means time is running out.”

  “How long has the NSA had the book?”

  “Three days.”

  Sabrina nodded. “Dad couldn’t figure it out, huh?” No doubt it was eating him up inside. Heck, if he found out that they’d gone to her as a last resort that might be the final straw that pushed him over the edge.

  No, that wouldn’t be enough to do it. But if she solved it…yeah, that would hurt.

  “Okay. You want me to read it and see if I can pick up some message coded within the puzzles.” She opened the book to page one, but Quinlan took it from her hands.

  “We’ve photocopied each of the pages. You can go through that door.” He pointed to a door that she hadn’t realized was there until he said something. Other than a small handle it seemed to blend into the wall. “There’s a large screen. We can project the pages onto the screen and make it easier for you to read.”

  Sabrina glanced at the three men who were staring back at her-the two geeks were still zoned in on the monitors-one was doubtful, one was hopeful, the other… Q was looking at her as if he really believed she could do it.

  She wouldn’t let him down.

  As confidently as she could in flip-flops, she walked to the door, opened it and stepped into what was a small, brightly lit room. Empty except for a metal stool in the center of it. The far wall had what Quinlan had described, a large screen that took up the space from ceiling to floor. Behind her, she heard a mechanical humming and turned to see that next to the door there was a panel halfway up the wall that was currently sliding open to reveal a glass window. She gave a little wave to the men looking on and tried not to feel as though she was in some kind of five-cent peekaboo sex show.

  “How do you want them?”

  A speaker mounted in the corner of the room echoed the voices from the other side of the glass. The nasal quality of the voice told her it was one of the geeks. She turned back to the window and shrugged. “What do you mean?”

  The geek on the right rolled his eyes as if to suggest her question was incredibly stupid. “One page at a time? Single pages flashed in succession? Several pages at a time? What?”

  Sabrina looked back at the screen. “Just put as many as will fit on the screen. When I tell you, move to the next set.”

  He huffed and she considered telling him where he could get off, but then she made eye contact with Quinlan. With just a look he conveyed the message that she needed to focus on the task not the geek.

  Suddenly, the pages appeared on the screen. They were enlarged to fit on four-foot-square panels. The screen held four of those across and four down so she was looking at the first sixteen pages of the book.

  She hadn’t seen the page number on the last page of the book so she asked, “How many pages are there?”

  “One hundred and fifty-two.”

  Yikes. The combination of letters and numbers in front of her suddenly seemed a little overwhelming. To commit to memory nine and a half screens of similar pages-the only way she would be able to see the work in its entirety in order to find the code-was going to be more than she believed she could handle.

  She turned around again to look at Quinlan. This had been his idea. That’s what he told her. And now she knew why he told her. He was counting on her not wanting to fail him. He was right, but she didn’t like being manipulated that way.

  “Look, Sabrina if you can’t do it…” the AD began. “Well, no one else has found anything, either. Just try, okay?”

  Right. Just try. But Quinlan had more of a
you-better-do-it-or-else expression on his face. She turned back to the wall of jumbled numbers and started to focus. Her head tilted slightly to the right as she allowed the numbers to sink inside, as she began first to see them, then to absorb them.

  “Next.”

  There was an audible silence. “Next,” Sabrina repeated.

  “You don’t want a little more time?” geek number two asked.

  Without bothering to turn around, she stated clearly, “If I had needed more time I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have said next.”

  “Do what she asks.” That was Quinlan’s voice.

  Instantly, the screen was replaced with a new set of pages. No doubt the geeks were peeing in their pants with fear. Quinlan could do that with just a few words.

  Again, she let herself absorb the patterns in front of her. Left and right, up and down, she committed the position of the symbols both alpha and numeric to memory. Then with that memory of the first screen, and now the second screen, she asked for screen number three.

  “Next.”

  This time she heard an incredulous sigh as opposed to a huff. “This is ridiculous and a waste of time…” Mr. Army muttered.

  “You know, not for nothing,” Sabrina called out, “but a little encouragement here wouldn’t be a bad thing. Next.”

  The screen turned and silence loomed. So quiet. So tense. Her focus intensified as the challenge to hold the positions of the previous pages in her mind while adding the new pages became harder. “Next.”

  An ache formed behind her eyes, but she ignored it. Something was there. A pattern. She could see it. She closed her eyes and brought the other pages into focus in the dark. Then she opened her eyes to the light and the screen in front of her.

  “Go back two screens.”

  She could almost feel the geeks’ cynicism leaking through the glass. But the screen changed and she was looking at the pages that she expected.

  “Here,” she mumbled unconsciously. “I can see it…it’s because…the last and then again…wait…that’s why…two.”

  And just like that it became clear to her. Like staring at one of those fuzzy pictures long enough until you saw the real picture beneath. “Go three screens forward.” She looked at one of the pages expectantly, saw what she knew she would see and smiled.

  “One more screen forward. Now back five.” She turned around and her smile, she knew, was triumphant. “I got it.”

  She could see that they still doubted her, but she didn’t care. She got it and for the first time she understood the power of the gift she’d been given. If she wasn’t mistaken she was about to save someone’s life. She walked back through the door. “Someone give me a pen and paper.”

  Quinlan quickly pulled out a pen and a small pad from his pocket. “You’re like a Boy Scout, you know that?” she teased.

  She wrote down a series of numbers on the first page. Then she turned the paper over and wrote down another set.

  “That’s what got my dad,” she explained, although she doubted they would understand. “He was looking for a single pattern. One set of coordinates. But there are two patterns. The first is complete. It’s a phone number. The second is what you believed it would be, a set of geographic coordinates, but it’s incomplete. My guess, this asset, he’s no dummy. He wants you to come get him first, then he’ll give you the missing piece.”

  The three men stared down at the numbers then looked at one another.

  “I’m right,” she insisted. “Call the number.”

  “This number could lead to anything,” Mr. Army grumbled.

  “Call the number,” she told them. “What have you got to lose?”

  That seemed to convince the AD. There was a phone on the panel. In consideration to her he put it on speaker and punched in the number she had given him. They waited. It rang. Then someone picked up.

  “It’s about damn time.” The voice was accented, but the words were English as if the man on the other end of the line knew that the people dialing the number would be speaking English, as well. “Where the hell have you been? I thought you CIA were supposed to be smart. Three days!” the voice on the other end of the phone railed. “It doesn’t matter now. You found this number, then you know. You get me out and I give you last piece of puzzle. Yes?”

  The AD picked up the phone at that point, his eyes pinned on Sabrina. He was looking at her as if he was impressed, but also as if she was a freak. “Yes,” he returned. “Tell us where you are.”

  With that, Quinlan took Sabrina by the arm and led her out of the room. She’d served her purpose and it was time to go. But before she walked back into the hall, she motioned to the geeks. “Hey, when you tell this story, and you will, tell my dad it only took me twenty-three minutes and five seconds.”

  Quinlan pushed her out the door then, her flip-flops tripping her up a bit. As soon as the door was closed behind her she flung her arms into the air.

  “Holy shit! Did you see that? Did you see that? It just came. I mean I used to do puzzles all the time. My dad was always throwing that stuff at me. Since I was about three. But this, it was like I could just see it, you know. Like a goldfish in a clear bowl it was that obvious. And did you hear that guy…? What took the CIA so long,” she quoted. “That’s ’cause you waited three days to get me, that’s why.”

  Quinlan stopped walking then and turned around. She couldn’t believe it. After everything that happened he almost looked bored. “Don’t you get it? I made you look pretty good back there. Mr. Army is going to say, ‘Boy, that Quinlan, he really had a great idea.’”

  “Mr. Army?”

  “You know. Stone face.”

  Quinlan’s brow lifted in understanding. “Mr. Army is one of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

  “Oh. Well, he was entirely ungrateful. He didn’t even say thank you or anything.”

  “He doesn’t have to. That’s your job. That’s what we brought you here to do.”

  “Yeah, but come on, twenty-three minutes…”

  “You don’t get it, Bri. Yes, I’m glad you were able to break the code. I was glad that I had the idea to bring you in, but only because it worked. If you think I’m going to sit here and stroke your ego and applaud your success like you’re some kind of star athlete you’re wrong. This is the work. This is what we expect from you from here on out. Only next time, we’ll expect you to get the job done in twenty-two minutes.”

  His words robbed her of her enthusiasm, but at the same time they instilled her with something else-purpose. She had a job. She had work that she needed to do from this point forward. It was pretty heady stuff.

  To lighten the mood, she shrugged a shoulder. “Okay. No celebrating after a big score. I get it. Act like you’ve been there. That’s what the classy football players say.”

  His mouth turned down a little. “This isn’t about celebration. It’s about understanding your role in this agency.”

  “Q, relax,” she returned, walking up to him and then moving beyond him down the hall. Over her shoulder she told him, “I know my role. And I’m ready to do whatever is asked of me again. Only next time in twenty-two minutes.”

  She saw him smile and she smiled back. Then as he caught up with her, he said something that truly stunned her.

  “I knew you could do it. I knew it.”

  It was the greatest applause she had ever received.

  Chapter 18

  Present

  Sabrina heard the sound of a car turning down the road and tightened the oversize overcoat around her. She reached her hands in the pocket and circled the butt of the Colt Defender. If all went well, she wouldn’t even have to pull it out of her pocket. Just lift the weapon even with Kahsan’s chest and fire.

  If she missed-not likely-or Kahsan managed to survive the first shot-more likely-and returned fire, Quinlan would take the next shot. It was a simple plan. The one unknown factor was how many men Kahsan would be bringing with him. But regardless of how many there were, they were the sec
ondary targets. Kahsan died first. It was what they decided. After that, it would simply be a matter of getting out of this alive.

  The front of the car came into view. Sabrina saw black and surmised that it was a limo. It had difficulty with the rough terrain, but after successfully navigating a few ruts, it stopped some twenty feet away.

  The temptation to look over her shoulder for one final check on Quinlan’s position was intense, but she ignored it and instead, kept her eye on the target. The driver’s door opened and a large man with dark eyes and dark hair stepped out of the car.

  Not Kahsan. Not polished enough.

  Then the back door opened and she saw someone struggling a bit to get out of the car. The first thing she spotted was a pair of long denim-covered legs, which flailed about until the feet finally found the ground and the person was standing.

  It was a kid. No more than sixteen or seventeen. Tall, lanky, with large pimples that covered his face. At least the part of his face that wasn’t covered with a gray slab of duct tape. His arms were pinned behind his back.

  Who in the hell…? Sabrina wondered, but there was no time for further thought when another man slid out of the car and stood directly behind the boy. It was clear that he was in control of the boy’s movements.

  “Why, Ms. Masters…we finally meet.”

  The voice behind the boy was smooth, cultured, with more than a hint of English accent. Exactly what she expected someone who had been educated at Oxford to sound like. She had no clear view of his face, the boy almost completely obstructed him. So he couldn’t have been that tall or that broad.

  “Kahsan.”

  But who was the damn kid? And why the hell did Kahsan think he needed a hostage? From Quinlan’s position, he was blind to what was happening right now, and more likely he was probably wondering why she hadn’t yet taken her shot.

  “Who is your friend?” she called out. “And why do you have him trussed up like some kind of goose?”

  Kahsan’s hand moved in front of the kid’s face and in a single motion he pulled the tape off his mouth. The boy shouted with pain, as he had no doubt been relieved of the few chin hairs he possessed.