Broken Angel

Chapter Four

Abbey placed her supper of roast beef sandwiches on a tray and with a cup of coffee carried it into the living room. She sat on the couch, placing the food alongside. While eating a sandwich, she read her presentation for the next day. Happy, the folder slotted into her workbag and tired she made her way to bed.

***

Michael raced along the corridor after Abbey. As she made her way to the lecture room, she moved with confidence. When he caught up with her, she laughed at Jacobs's failure to launch a missile.

"You know he won't stop trying."

"I agree. Jacob believes in himself."

"I'm in here," said Abbey stopping at lecture room three.

"Number six for me," said Michael. "Are you around later?"

Abbey nodded. "Why?"

"Tyler thought the three of us could go for a drink."

"Tyler or you?"

He shrugged. "To be truthful me."

"Any reason."

"The future. Do we need Jacob?"

She stopped, tilted her head to one side and then delivered her answer. "Jacob set up the programme. Somewhere in, there will be his control steps. Leave it with me, and I'll get back to you. Must go."

He watched as she entered the lecture room and wished.

***

Abbey awoke from a disturbed nights sleep, rolled over and turned on her radio. From half- asleep to wide-awake took less than a second as the newsflash registered.

She tried to contact Jacob, but each time her calls diverted straight to his voice mail. Abbey shrugged when she discovered, the main door to the shop unlocked. Warily she entered. The hatch to the basement was open, and the clatter of fingers operating a keyboard eased her mind. She closed and bolted the main door. Tense, she reached the bottom of the stairs, digital algorithms raced across four screens. A flood of horror gushed through her. "Jacob, what the fuck are you doing?"

He gave a manic chuckle as he lifted his head. His eyes gleamed. "At this moment, I'm into a USAF Base, 450 nuclear missiles are mine to operate. They built these places in the sixties, and much of the equipment is original. Designed to be untouchable. Then one day a telephone engineer installed fibre optics. To make matters worse, the idiots installed the backup to a PC. You're familiar with the domino effect, well join that to a cyber cascade and you have World War Three."

Abbey tried to control her voice. "You're deranged. If your data falls into the wrong hands, a ton of shit will hit the fan, and I don't want to be under it."

He grinned as he looked at her. "I'm a genius. I can save the world from itself. I'm shaking the trees to discover what falls out."

"You're fucking mad."

Jacob snapped. "You're jealous."

She shook her head. "Jealous of a dickhead. Delete the program."

"He held up his hands as a signal of truce. It's a matter of pride. I use a Ministry of Defence server to direct my traffic, and everything is password protected."

"I can crack passwords in my sleep. What's so different about yours?"

He laughed. "I've hidden them where the sun doesn't shine." He savoured the moment.

She remained staring at him. "Be careful, search programmes advance each day. Tomorrow might be the day when the world finds you. Nothing is foolproof."