"000041-parryspr" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yngve A R - Parry's Protocol)_______________________ A.R.Yngve PARRY'S PROTOCOL _______________________ Chapter 41 OCTOBER 15 Abram ceased tapping out text, pulled the last sheet from the built-in printer, and put it among the rest in the pile. He yawned deeply, stretching out his back and arms -- his back snapped and he winced -- and watched the motel-room. Fast-food cartons and paper mugs were scattered over the desk and floor, paper balls gathered at his feet. The bed was not made, and his clothes were lying on the floor. It was obvious that he had slept alone in the bed. Abram was dressed in a smelly T-shirt and boxer shorts. He picked up his agency phone, dialed, and punched a scrambling button. "Ned Wilson speaking." "Hi, Ned; it's Abram." "Hi! You're calling early." "I never get used to the time zones, sorry. I just finished the third part of my report. A burst of inspiration came over me." "Ehxcellent, ehxcellent! That was fast. You coming down here soon?" "Uh, Ned, all this zone-crossing is giving me sleeping problems. Could you send me a courier to get it?" "Lemme see... sorry, all couriers are out on assignments right now, and I'll need the report A.S.A.P." "Let's ignore the regulations just for once. Let me fax it over. I can put my cell-phone into a fax machine, scramble the fax signal, and let it carry the signals to your phone in Langley, where you unscramble the signals and feed them to your fax." "Ah' didn't quite follow you there, Abram -- but it still won't work! The information that passes through your fax when you feed the papers might be tapped via some connection, and those signals won't be scrambled -- not in ordinary machines, as far as I know. Stick to your own protected hardware." "Tha's fine. See ya. Bye." "Bye." Abram tried to put the phone back in his jacket, but missed the pocket and dropped it onto the floor. His face was suddenly contorted by anger; he cried out, almost sobbing: "Damn! Damn, damn this shit!!" _______________________ A.R.Yngve PARRY'S PROTOCOL _______________________ Chapter 41 OCTOBER 15 Abram ceased tapping out text, pulled the last sheet from the built-in printer, and put it among the rest in the pile. He yawned deeply, stretching out his back and arms -- his back snapped and he winced -- and watched the motel-room. Fast-food cartons and paper mugs were scattered over the desk and floor, paper balls gathered at his feet. The bed was not made, and his clothes were lying on the floor. It was obvious that he had slept alone in the bed. Abram was dressed in a smelly T-shirt and boxer shorts. He picked up his agency phone, dialed, and punched a scrambling button. "Ned Wilson speaking." "Hi, Ned; it's Abram." "Hi! You're calling early." "I never get used to the time zones, sorry. I just finished the third part of my report. A burst of inspiration came over me." "Ehxcellent, ehxcellent! That was fast. You coming down here soon?" "Uh, Ned, all this zone-crossing is giving me sleeping problems. Could you send me a courier to get it?" "Lemme see... sorry, all couriers are out on assignments right now, and I'll need the report A.S.A.P." "Let's ignore the regulations just for once. Let me fax it over. I can put my cell-phone into a fax machine, scramble the fax signal, and let it carry the signals to your phone in Langley, where you unscramble the signals and feed them to your fax." "Ah' didn't quite follow you there, Abram -- but it still won't work! The information that passes through your fax when you feed the papers might be tapped via some connection, and those signals won't be scrambled -- not in ordinary machines, as far as I know. Stick to your own protected hardware." "Right. Okay. I'll fly over today or by tomorrow, I've got my other job to do." "Tha's fine. See ya. Bye." "Bye." Abram tried to put the phone back in his jacket, but missed the pocket and dropped it onto the floor. His face was suddenly contorted by anger; he cried out, almost sobbing: "Damn! Damn, damn this shit!!" |
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