- •Dan Brown Digital Fortress
- •Prologue
- •Chapter 1
- •Chapter 2
- •Chapter 3
- •National security agency (nsa) crypto facility authorized personnel only
- •Hl fkzc vd lds
- •Im glad we met
- •Chapter 4
- •Chapter 5
- •Employee carl austin terminated for inappropriate conduct.
- •Time elapsed: 15:09:33 awaiting key: ________
- •Chapter 6
- •Chapter 7
- •“Transltr?”
- •Chapter 8
- •Keep the change.
- •Chapter 9
- •Time elapsed: 15:17:21
- •Chapter 10
- •Chapter 11
- •Chapter 12
- •Chapter 13
- •Chapter 14
- •Chapter 15
- •Chapter 16
- •Chapter 17
- •Chapter 18
- •Chapter 19
- •Chapter 20
- •Chapter 21
- •Chapter 22
- •Chapter 23
- •Chapter 24
- •Chapter 25
- •Subject: p. Cloucharde‑terminated
- •Message sent chapter 26
- •Chapter 27
- •Dinner at alfredo’s? 8 pm?
- •Chapter 28
- •Chapter 29
- •Please accept this humble fax my love for you is without wax.
- •Tracer searching . . .
- •Tracer abort?
- •Chapter 30
- •Chapter 31
- •Chapter 32
- •Chapter 33
- •Chapter 34
- •Tracer aborted
- •Error code 22
- •Chapter 36
- •Tracer sent
- •Search for: “tracer”
- •No matches found
- •Search for: “screenlock”
- •Great progress! digital fortress is almost done. This thing will set the nsa back decades!
- •Rotating cleartext works! mutation strings are the trick!
- •Chapter 37
- •Chapter 38
- •Chapter 39
- •Chapter 40
- •Chapter 41
- •Subject: rocio eva granada‑terminated subject: hans huber‑terminated
- •Chapter 42
- •Chapter 43
- •Crypto‑production/expenditure
- •Chapter 44
- •Chapter 45
- •Chapter 46
- •Chapter 47
- •Chapter 48
- •Chapter 49
- •Chapter 50
- •Crypto sublevels authorized personnel only
- •Chapter 51
- •Chapter 52
- •Chapter 53
- •Chapter 54
- •Chapter 55
- •Chapter 56
- •Chapter 57
- •Chapter 58
- •Chapter 59
- •Chapter 60
- •Chapter 61
- •Chapter 62
- •Chapter 63
- •Chapter 64
- •Chapter 65
- •Chapter 66
- •Chapter 67
- •Chapter 68
- •Chapter 69
- •Chapter 70
- •Chapter 71
- •Chapter 72
- •Abort run
- •Chapter 73
- •Chapter 74
- •Chapter 75
- •Chapter 76
- •Chapter 77
- •Chapter 78
- •Chapter 79
- •Chapter 80
- •Chapter 81
- •Chapter 82
- •Chapter 83
- •Chapter 84
- •Chapter 85
- •Chapter 86
- •Sorry. Unable to abort. Sorry. Unable to abort. Sorry. Unable to abort.
- •Tell the world about transltr only the truth will save you now . . .
- •Only the truth will save you now
- •Enter pass‑key
- •Chapter 87
- •Chapter 88
- •Chapter 89
- •Chapter 90
- •Chapter 91
- •Chapter 92
- •Chapter 93
- •Chapter 94
- •Chapter 95
- •Chapter 96
- •Chapter 97
- •Chapter 98
- •Chapter 99
- •Chapter 100
- •Subject: david becker‑terminated
- •Chapter 101
- •Chapter 102
- •Chapter 103
- •Chapter 105
- •Chapter 106
- •Chapter 107
- •Chapter 108
- •Chapter 109
- •Only the truth will save you now enter pass‑key ______
- •Only the truth will save you now enter pass‑key ______
- •Chapter 110
- •Chapter 111
- •Chapter 112
- •Chapter 113
- •Chapter 114
- •Chapter 115
- •Chapter 116
- •Chapter 117
- •Only the truth will save you now
- •Chapter 118
- •Quiscustodietipsoscustodes
- •Chapter 119
- •Illegal entry. Numeric field only.
- •Chapter 120
- •Pfee sesn retm
- •Pfee sesn retm mfha irwe ooig meen nrma enet shas dcns iiaa ieer brnk fble lodi
- •Pfeesesnretmpfhairweooigmeennrmaenetshasdcnsiiaaieerbrnkfblelodi
- •Chapter 121
- •Chapter 122
- •Primedifferencebetweenelementsresponsibleforhiroshimaandnagasaki
- •Chapter 123
- •Prime difference between elements responsible for hiroshima and nagasaki
- •Chapter 124
- •Prime difference between elements responsible forhiroshima and nagasaki
- •Chapter 125
- •Chapter 126
- •Chapter 127
- •Enter pass‑key? 3
- •Kill code confirmed.
- •Chapter 128
- •Epilogue
Chapter 96
Susan was wet and shivering, huddled on the Node 3 couch. Strathmore draped his suit coat over her shoulders. Hale’s body lay a few yards away. The sirens blared. Like ice thawing on a frozen pond, TRANSLTR’s hull let out a sharp crack.
“I’m going down to kill power,” Strathmore said, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
Susan stared absently after the commander as he dashed across the Crypto floor. He was no longer the catatonic man she’d seen ten minutes before. Commander Trevor Strathmore was back‑logical, controlled, doing whatever was necessary to get the job done.
The final words of Hale’s suicide note ran through her mind like a train out of control: Above all, I’m truly sorry about David Becker. Forgive me, I was blinded by ambition.
Susan Fletcher’s nightmare had just been confirmed. David was in danger . . . or worse. Maybe it was already too late. I’m truly sorry about David Becker.
She stared at the note. Hale hadn’t even signed it‑he’d just typed his name at the bottom: Greg Hale. He’d poured out his guts, pressed print, and then shot himself‑just like that. Hale had sworn he’d never go back to prison; he’d kept his vow‑he’d chosen death instead.
“David . . .” She sobbed. David!
* * *
At that moment, ten feet below the Crypto floor, Commander Strathmore stepped off the ladder onto the first landing. It had been a day of fiascoes. What had started out as a patriotic mission had swerved wildly out of control. The commander had been forced to make impossible decisions, commit horrific acts‑acts he’d never imagined himself capable of.
It was a solution! It was the only damn solution!
There was duty to think of: country and honor. Strathmore knew there was still time. He could shut down TRANSLTR. He could use the ring to save the country’s most valuable databank. Yes, he thought, there was still time.
Strathmore looked out over the disaster around him. The overhead sprinklers were on. TRANSLTR was groaning. The sirens blared. The spinning lights looked like helicopters closing in through dense fog. With every step, all he could see was Greg Hale‑the young cryptographer gazing up, his eyes pleading, and then, the shot. Hale’s death was for country . . . for honor. The NSA could not afford another scandal. Strathmore needed a scapegoat. Besides, Greg Hale was a disaster waiting to happen.
* * *
Strathmore’s thoughts were jarred free by the sound of his cellular. It was barely audible over the sirens and hissing fumes. He snatched it off his belt without breaking stride.
“Speak.”
“Where’s my pass‑key?” a familiar voice demanded.
“Who is this?” Strathmore yelled over the din.
“It’s Numataka!” the angry voice bellowed back. “You promised me a pass‑key!”
Strathmore kept moving.
“I want Digital Fortress!” Numataka hissed.
“There is no Digital Fortress!” Strathmore shot back.
“What?”
“There is no unbreakable algorithm!”
“Of course there is! I’ve seen it on the Internet! My people have been trying to unlock it for days!”
“It’s an encrypted virus, you fool‑and you’re damn lucky you can’t open it!”
“But—”
“The deal is off!” Strathmore yelled. “I’m not North Dakota. There is no North Dakota! Forget I ever mentioned it!” He clamped the cellular shut, turned off the ringer, and rammed it back on his belt. There would be no more interruptions.
* * *
Twelve thousand miles away, Tokugen Numataka stood stunned at his plate‑glass window. His Umami cigar hung limply in his mouth. The deal of his lifetime had just disintegrated before his eyes.
* * *
Strathmore kept descending. The deal is off. Numatech Corp. would never get the unbreakable algorithm . . . and the NSA would never get its back door.
Strathmore’s dream had been a long time in the planning‑he’d chosen Numatech carefully. Numatech was wealthy, a likely winner of the pass‑key auction. No one would think twice if it ended up with the key. Conveniently there was no company less likely to be suspected of consorting with the U.S. government. Tokugen Numataka was old‑world Japan‑death before dishonor. He hated Americans. He hated their food, he hated their customs, and most of all, he hated their grip on the world’s software market.
* * *
Strathmore’s vision had been bold‑a world encryption standard with a back door for the NSA. He’d longed to share his dream with Susan, to carry it out with her by his side, but he knew he could not. Even though Ensei Tankado’s death would save thousands of lives in the future, Susan would never have agreed; she was a pacifist. I’m a pacifist too, thought Strathmore, I just don’t have the luxury of acting like one.
There had never been any doubt in the commander’s mind who would kill Tankado. Tankado was in Spain‑and Spain meant Hulohot. The forty‑two‑year‑old Portuguese mercenary was one of the commander’s favorite pros. He’d been working for the NSA for years. Born and raised in Lisbon, Hulohot had done work for the NSA all over Europe. Never once had his kills been traced back to Fort Meade. The only catch was that Hulohot was deaf; telephone communication was impossible. Recently Strathmore had arranged for Hulohot to receive the NSA’s newest toy, the Monocle computer. Strathmore bought himself a SkyPager and programmed it to the same frequency. From that moment on, his communication with Hulohot was not only instantaneous but also entirely untraceable.
The first message Strathmore had sent Hulohot left little room for misunderstanding. They had already discussed it. Kill Ensei Tankado. Obtain pass‑key.
Strathmore never asked how Hulohot worked his magic, but somehow he had done it again. Ensei Tankado was dead, and the authorities were convinced it was a heart attack. A textbook kill‑except for one thing. Hulohot had misjudged the location. Apparently Tankado dying in a public place was a necessary part of the illusion. But unexpectedly, the public had appeared too soon. Hulohot was forced into hiding before he could search the body for the pass‑key. When the dust settled, Tankado’s body was in the hands of Seville’s coroner.
Strathmore was furious. Hulohot had blown a mission for the first time ever‑and he’d picked an inauspicious time to do it. Getting Tankado’s pass‑key was critical, but Strathmore knew that sending a deaf assassin into the Seville morgue was a suicide mission. He had pondered his other options. A second scheme began to materialize. Strathmore suddenly saw a chance to win on two fronts‑a chance to realize two dreams instead of just one. At six‑thirty that morning, he had called David Becker.