The Cipher (18 page)

She put it away quickly, her good mood broken. She was stuffing the pictures back in the box when the small group of
No
pictures slipped from her hand and spilled onto the floor.

Melanie went to pick them up and gasped. Andrei Tarasov was looking up at her.

113

THERE WAS NO
mistaking it—she remembered Tarasov's milky coloring and jet-black hair from the photo she'd seen in the HR file. He stood in an academic-looking hallway in a short-sleeved business shirt, nervous eyes staring into the camera. Two older men stood at his sides. On his right was Mr. Smylie, and on his left an even older man with one hand around Tarasov and the other holding a pipe. They all stood together at a half-open door to a professor's office.

The nameplate on it said
WORTH
.

“Hello?” The voice was frail but good-humored, like his face.

Melanie had to collect herself. She had dialed the number that appeared in Northeastern's online directory, but hadn't really expected to get anybody on the line.

“Hello. Is this Professor Worth?”

“That's me,” he said jovially. “I sure hope so, anyway.” His laugh descended into a series of hacking coughs.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Quite, quite,” Professor Worth said. “Just the old body giving out, nothing to be alarmed at. What can I do for you, dear?”

Melanie liked him already. “Well, sir, my name is Melanie Hunt and I, well . . .”

She was still crafting her approach, wishing she'd planned this out a bit more, when Professor Worth picked up the thread. “That wouldn't be Hunt as in Marshall Hunt?”

“Yes, actually. You know him, then?”

“Oh, certainly.” More coughing.

Melanie had brought the three pictures from the
No
group out to the kitchen table with her. She thumbed through them, waiting for the professor to recover. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“It's nothing, child, just the standard convulsions. It's good for me, reminds me I'm alive. For the moment. What can I do for you, Ms. Hunt?”

“I'd like to talk to you, sir, if that's possible.” It would be better to do this in person. Melanie did a quick mental review of her schedule for the next week and decided the world wouldn't end if she skipped a few classes. She had never actually done that before, but if anything called for it, this did. “Would you have any time to see me on Monday?” When he didn't answer she added, “It's very important, sir.”

“My dear girl,” Professor Worth said after a pause, “my schedule is entirely free on Monday. I have precious little to amuse me in my old age, and there's nothing I'd enjoy more than spending a few minutes in the company of a promising young woman. And you sound very promising indeed.”

From the corner of her eye, Melanie saw Jenna bound down the spiral stairs and prance to the kitchen. Melanie held up a finger, doing her best to convey with her facial expression that she was talking to a charming-but-possibly-deranged math professor.

“Oh, well, thank you, Professor.”

“My door shall be open and you are free to come at your leisure on Monday afternoon.”

“That's great, I—”

“But I must advise you to think about something.” His voice got stronger with the warning. “I have to assume, being the intelligent and inquisitive young woman you sound like, that you might want to ask this decrepit old man about some ancient history involving your father. Am I right, dear?”

“Actually, yes, you are.”

“Has he been a good father to you? May I ask you that?”

Melanie had turned cold. There was something creepy about this, something that made her want to end the call. Still, she answered, “He has, yes.”

“Indulge me, my dear. With age comes wisdom. And hear me when I say this: Sometimes it's best not to turn over every rock in a person's life. Especially if they've treated you well. If they have fed you and clothed you and provided you a comfortable life that you enjoy, one you would not wish to see compromised. So think hard before you come to see me. But if you do, know that my door will be open and your company welcomed by an old man.”

“Okay, thank you, then.” Melanie could barely talk anymore.

She hung up the phone like it was hot.

127

MELANIE DIDN'T KISS
him like this. Not at all.

There was something hungry about it, something that made Smiles feel more desired than he'd ever been in his life. Erin gripped the scruff of his neck and pulled him toward her. Her lips were soft and yielding, her murmurs a hum of delight.

They had both been starving for each other, and the passion of it almost knocked Smiles out. The closest thing he could compare the feeling to was stealing drinks from his dad's liquor stash back in seventh grade—the feeling of having so much fun that you knew it had to be wrong.

He was losing himself in it all when the doorknob turned with a chunky metal sound. A woman in a blazer entered and walked briskly to the printer, giving them a cutting stare on her way. Smiles and Erin snuck an embarrassed look at each other as she eased off his lap.

The woman bustled to the printer and grabbed the waiting pages. “This is a
business center
,” she said on her way out. The door closed, and then their laughter shattered the silence.

They couldn't enjoy the moment too long, though. “We need to set this up and get out of here,” Smiles said.

Erin nodded. “Right.”

“Hello again,” Smiles said. They had stayed in the business center for the call. Erin was watching the door.

“Who is this?” a smooth voice said. It was Cole, the one in charge.

“You know who it is,” Smiles said. “Missing something?”

Cole didn't respond. Smiles gave Erin a thumbs-up.

“I think we probably have all we need.” His voice dipped a few degrees, more threatening now. He was talking about Ben, of course, and it sent an unwelcome tingle through Smiles.

“I'd be surprised if that's the case. I think you'll find your passenger to be pretty stubborn. If you think you're going to get anything out of him, you'll be waiting for a long time.”

Again Cole didn't respond. Smiles listened for sounds in the background, anything to suggest whether the agents were still in the minivan, and if so where they were headed.

“You're lucky, though,” Smiles continued.

“Oh yeah, how's that?”

“I shouldn't be willing to do this. But I'm going to offer you another chance to get the cipher.”

Smiles listened to the silence, and this time it was delicious. If the agents had any other options, they wouldn't be bothering with him. But Ben must have been holding out, not telling them a thing.

“Is there some kind of proposal here?” Cole said.

“Well, in light of recent events, the price has gone up.” Erin shot him a look, but Smiles was feeling it. He had these guys. “It's going to cost you one hundred million now, and of course I'm going to need my associate back. Unharmed.”

“He hasn't been touched,” Cole said in a tone somewhere between bored and offended. “Where and when?”

Smiles knew they had to move. They'd be sitting ducks if they stayed at the casino. The first place that came to his mind was the Alyce Systems headquarters. “Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock, the corner of Water Street and Congress in Boston.”

Smiles hung up before Cole could answer.

He closed his eyes, relieved, and felt a kiss on his cheek. “Got a little greedy, did you?”

Smiles shrugged, unable to hide his satisfaction with himself. “Let's get out of here.”

For the first time since he'd found Ben gone, he felt on top of things. It was like he'd broken the surface of the water after being under for an hour.

He and Erin walked to the door. Before Smiles opened it, he asked, “You've got the cipher?”

“Yeah.” Erin's hand reached across the spaghetti strap of her dress, grasping at the tan flesh of her shoulder where she normally carried her messenger bag. The panic in her eyes told him everything.

“You didn't leave—”

“With Zach,” she said.

Together, they bolted from the business center and back down to Starbucks. Smiles scanned the tables three times over, but it was useless.

Zach was gone, and he had taken her bag with him.

131

“WE'RE REALLY SCREWED,
huh?”

Smiles nodded. In fourteen hours they were supposed to give the agents the cipher, and they had no idea where it was. They bounced over a dark road in the Infiniti, searching for a safe place to hole up for the night.

“Try him again,” Smiles said.

Erin barely got her phone to her ear before shaking her head. “Still turned off.”

They had been trying his Zach's cell without luck since finding his hotel room predictably empty. They had burned away the afternoon at the Starbucks, hoping he might return. They both knew he wouldn't, though, and set out on the road a half hour ago. The sunlight was dying as the road before them narrowed, closed in by greenery and stands advertising sweet corn and strawberries. During the day, it might have been pretty. Smiles flicked on his lights, trying not to panic.

“There we go,” Erin said, pointing into the distance.

It was called the Old Lantern, and it would have to do. They parked in a gravel lot, serenaded by bugs as they walked to a small office behind a tired screen door. It slammed shut behind them on nonexistent springs.

They checked in with a woman sporting fluorescent orange fingernails that matched her tube top. Smiles passed over his credit card and listened to the bleating of the crickets through the window screens. They sounded like a giant insistent clock, ticking off the seconds until their morning date with the government agents. Smiles didn't want to imagine what would happen to Ben if they didn't get the cipher by then.

The woman processed the transaction silently, keeping a good three-quarters of her attention fixed on a fuzzy broadcast of Anderson Cooper coming through a television fixed high on the office wall. She handed the keys over with a parting shot: “Pool's not open for another month, so don't even ask.”

Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but Smiles and Erin headed right to the pool after dumping their bags and grabbing two Cokes from the vending machine. They sat with their legs dangling over the gutters, airborne in the dry bowl of the empty pool. The gunmetal concrete, spotted with round lights, made the far side of the pool look like a submarine.

Erin cracked her soda and unzipped the hoodie she'd thrown on in the car.

Smiles pointed to a
NO SKINNY DIPPING
sign. “Better keep your shirt on,” he said.

“You should be so lucky,” Erin said, and they laughed softly.

The situation had gotten too serious for any joking beyond that. Smiles tried not to dwell on the increasing likelihood that they weren't going to have the cipher anytime soon. He settled back and watched the crescent moon.

Ten minutes later their Cokes were gone and the crickets were still going at it. Erin had made a pillow of her hoodie and was lying on the pool deck. Her short T-shirt revealed a band of flat stomach, enough to distract Smiles from the troubles pressing down on him. A muted chime sounded from within Erin's hoodie and she sprang upright.

“Your phone?”

She pulled her legs from the pool and twisted her attention to the hoodie. She dug through one pocket, then the other, and came out with her cell.

“It's Zach,” she said, and then answered it on speakerphone. “Hey,” she snapped.

Her eyes shimmered with anger, and for a second, Smiles couldn't resist noticing how beautiful she was.

“Guess what I got?” Zach's voice said into the night.

“Where are you?”

“Oh, what, you want it back? Is your new man with you, 'cause it sounds like I'm on speaker.” Erin threw Smiles a frustrated look. “I'll take that as a yes, and it's a good thing, actually. He should hear this.”

“Just tell us where you are,” Erin said.

“Hey, let me finish my thought here. You're always interrupting. Hey, Smiles—that's, like, your little nickname, right? That's something you should know about Erin. She always cuts you off before you get a sentence out. It's super annoying, man, you're gonna get really tired of it quick. Just, like, beware, is all I'm saying.”

The guy was feeling his oats. There was nothing to do but let him circle around to the point eventually. But Smiles didn't like the overflowing confidence in his voice. If Zach knew as much about math as Erin said, he'd know just how valuable the thing in his possession was.

“So, anyway, man, kudos to you. I checked out what you got on that thumb drive. I mean, I can hardly believe this thing. A fast-factoring algorithm? Are you shitting me?”

Erin was gritting her teeth. “Look, just tell us where—”

“Oh my God! There she goes again! I swear, Smiles, that's gonna grate on you in, like, two-point-five seconds. You gotta nip that shit in the bud.”

Erin's mouth drew tight. Above them, clouds drifted across the moon like lace.

“So aaaanyway, here's the score. I don't have a lot of money like you, man. I don't gamble in the high-roller section, know what I mean? But this thing in my hands is worth a lot of money. Like,
a lot
. And also, Alyce Systems would go up the second this thing became public. Which, I mean, I don't want
that
to happen.”

A terrible, crushing feeling overcame Smiles then. It was far worse than he'd thought. He listened, waiting for the hammer to fall.

“So alls I'm asking is a measly ten million. Which, like, check between your sofa cushions and you'll get more than that. Otherwise, what I'm gonna do is post this on the Internet, and you can watch your dad's IPO go down the toilet.”

Erin reached for Smiles. She knew how much was on the line—she knew Smiles would happily turn over whatever he had to keep this from getting out and ruining his dad's company. But he had to shake his head. He didn't have $10 million. All he had was the $50,000 check he'd gotten from Mr. Hunt.

“Zach, this is stupid. You're not getting ten million—”

“You guys talk it over. Weigh the costs and benefits, all that kind of stuff. See what you come up with. If I don't get ten million by Monday, this thing is going worldwide.”

Then the line went dead, and Erin buried her head in Smiles's chest. There was nothing to say, and Smiles couldn't talk anyway. He watched the moon, wondering how he managed to screw up every single thing in his life. And now he'd put Alyce Systems itself in jeopardy. It was unthinkable. A shame like he'd never known penetrated his entire being.

“This is all my fault,” Erin said. She grabbed up her hoodie and pulled it tight to her chest, one sleeve drooping to the ground. “I'm the one who told him about the cipher. He never would have known.”

Smiles pulled her to him by her hoodie. “We're in this together.”

“Smiles, I hate to say this, but he'll do it. He really will. He's crazy.”

“I'm starting to pick that up.”

“Do you want to call your dad?” Erin said, cringing. “And, like, warn him or something?”

“No.” Smiles couldn't even think about that.

“But I mean, unless you have ten million dollars . . .” A car passed on the distant road. A line of shadow passed over her face, leaving it clear and bright in its wake.

“Yeah, I know. I know. I know.”

He repeated it again and again. He stared into the gray pool, contemplating the mildewed drain at the bottom. If it had been full, he might have considered drowning himself there. Because he couldn't tell his dad, and he didn't have ten million dollars . . .

Smiles turned to Erin. He didn't have ten million dollars, but he had something else. They could get the cipher out of Zach's hands and turn around and sell it for ten times that. And get Ben back.

He almost smiled.

“Tell him we'll do it for seven,” he said. “Seven million.”

It'll be a bargain
.