The Lost Symbol Chapter 33-36

Section 33 Frameworks security authority Mark Zoubianis was sinking further into his futon and glaring at the data on his PC screen. What the heck sort of address is this? His best hacking devices were completely ineffectual at breaking into the report or at exposing Trish's strange IP address. Ten minutes had passed, and Zoubianis' program was all the while beating ceaselessly futile at the system firewalls. They indicated little any expectation of entrance. No big surprise they're overpaying me. He was going to retool and attempt an alternate methodology when his telephone rang. Trish, for the good of Christ, I said I'd call you. He quieted the football match-up and replied. â€Å"Yeah?† â€Å"Is this Mark Zoubianis?† a man inquired. â€Å"At 357 Kingston Drive in Washington?† Zoubianis could hear other stifled discussions out of sight. A phone salesperson during the end of the season games? It is safe to say that they are crazy? â€Å"Let me surmise, I won seven days in Anguilla?† â€Å"No,† the voice answered with no hint of cleverness. â€Å"This is frameworks security for the Central Intelligence Agency. We might want to know why you are endeavoring to hack one of our ordered databases?† Three stories over the Capitol Building's subbasement, in the all the way open spaces of the guest community, security watch Nunez bolted the primary section entryways as he did each night as of now. As he headed back over the broad marble floors, he thought of the man in the military overflow coat with the tattoos. I let him in. Nunez thought about whether he would have a vocation tomorrow. As he made a beeline for the lift, an abrupt beating outwardly entryways made him turn. He squinted back toward the principle passageway and saw an older African American man outside, rapping on the glass with his open palm and motioning to be allowed in. Nunez shook his head and highlighted his watch. The man beat again and ventured into the light. He was faultlessly wearing a blue suit and had neatly trimmed turning gray hair. Nunez's heartbeat enlivened. My goodness. Indeed, even a ways off, Nunez now perceived who this man was. He rushed back to the passage and opened the entryway. â€Å"I'm sorry, sir. If it's not too much trouble please come in.† Warren Bellamyâ€Architect of the Capitolâ€stepped over the edge and expressed gratitude toward Nunez with a neighborly gesture. Bellamy was agile and thin, with an erect stance and penetrating look that oozed the certainty of a man in full control of his environmental factors. For the last a quarter century, Bellamy had filled in as the administrator of the U.S. Legislative hall. â€Å"May I help you, sir?† Nunez inquired. â€Å"Thank you, yes.† Bellamy articulated his words with fresh exactness. As a northeastern Ivy League graduate, his phrasing was so demanding he sounded practically British. â€Å"I've recently discovered that you had an occurrence here this evening.† He looked profoundly concerned. â€Å"Yes, sir. It wasâ€â€Å" â€Å"Where's Chief Anderson?† â€Å"Downstairs with Director Sato from the CIA's Office of Security.† Bellamy's eyes broadened with concern. â€Å"The CIA is here?† â€Å"Yes, sir. Chief Sato showed up very quickly after the incident.† â€Å"Why?† Bellamy requested. Nunez shrugged. As though I would inquire? Bellamy walked legitimately toward the lifts. â€Å"Where are they?† â€Å"They just went to the lower levels.† Nunez hurried after him. Bellamy looked back with a look of concern. â€Å"Downstairs? Why?† â€Å"I don't generally knowâ€I simply heard it on my radio.† Bellamy was moving quicker at this point. â€Å"Take me to them right away.† â€Å"Yes, sir.† As the two men rushed over the open territory, Nunez got a brief look at a huge brilliant ring on Bellamy's finger. Nunez pulled out his radio. â€Å"I'll caution the main that you're coming down.† â€Å"No.† Bellamy's eyes flashed hazardously. â€Å"I'd like to be unannounced.† Nunez had committed some enormous errors today around evening time, however neglecting to alarm Chief Anderson that the Architect was currently in the structure would be his last. â€Å"Sir?† he stated, uncomfortable. â€Å"I figure Chief Anderson would preferâ€â€Å" â€Å"You know that I utilize Mr. Anderson?† Bellamy said. Nunez gestured. â€Å"Then I figure he would incline toward you comply with my wishes.† Section 34 Trish Dunne entered the SMSC anteroom and turned upward with shock. The visitor holding up here looked in no way like the typical erudite, wool clad specialists who entered this buildingâ€those of humanities, oceanography, geography, and other logical fields. Very actually, Dr. Abaddon glanced practically distinguished in his flawlessly custom-made suit. He was tall, with a wide middle, all around tanned face, and entirely brushed fair hair that gave Trish the impression he was more acclimated with extravagances than to research centers. â€Å"Dr. Abaddon, I presume?† Trish stated, expanding her hand. The man looked questionable, however he took Trish's stout hand in his expansive palm. â€Å"I'm sorry. Furthermore, you are?† â€Å"Trish Dunne,† she answered. â€Å"I'm Katherine's associate. She requested that I escort you back to her lab.† â€Å"Oh, I see.† The man grinned now. â€Å"Very ideal to meet you, Trish. My conciliatory sentiments on the off chance that I appeared to be confounded. I was under the impression Katherine was here alone this evening.† He motioned a few doors down. â€Å"But I'm all yours. Lead the way.† In spite of the man's speedy recuperation, Trish had seen the glimmer of dissatisfaction in his eyes. She presently presumed the rationale in Katherine's mystery prior about Dr. Abaddon. A growing sentiment, possibly? Katherine never examined her public activity, yet her guest was alluring and all around prepared, and albeit more youthful than Katherine, he obviously originated from her universe of riches and benefit. In any case, whatever Dr. Abaddon had envisioned this evening's visit may involve, Trish's essence didn't appear to be a piece of his arrangement. At the hall's security checkpoint, a solitary watchman immediately pulled off his earphones, and Trish could hear the Redskins game blasting. The watchman put Dr. Abaddon through the standard guest routine of metal finders and brief security identifications. â€Å"Who's winning?† Dr. Abaddon said amicably as he purged his pockets of a wireless, a few keys, and a cigarette lighter. â€Å"Skins by three,† the watchman stated, sounding anxious to get back. â€Å"Helluva game.† â€Å"Mr. Solomon will show up shortly,† Trish told the watchman. â€Å"Would you please send him back to the lab once he arrives?† â€Å"Will do.† The watchman gave a thankful wink as they went through. â€Å"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll look busy.† Trish's remark had been to help the gatekeeper as well as to remind Dr. Abaddon that Trish was by all account not the only one encroaching upon his private night here with Katherine. â€Å"So how would you know Katherine?† Trish asked, looking up at the puzzling visitor. Dr. Abaddon laughed. â€Å"Oh, it's a long story. We've been chipping away at something together.† Comprehended, Trish thought. Not my issue to worry about. â€Å"This is a stunning facility,† Abaddon stated, looking around as they descended the monstrous hallway. â€Å"I've never really been here.† His breezy tone was getting progressively cheerful with each progression, and Trish saw he was effectively taking it all in. In the brilliant lights of the passage, she likewise saw that his face appeared as though he had a phony tan. Odd. In any case, as they explored the abandoned halls, Trish gave him a general summary of the SMSC's motivation and capacity, including the different units and their substance. The guest looked dazzled. â€Å"Sounds like this spot has a fortune trove of inestimable antiquities. I would have expected watchmen posted everywhere.† â€Å"No need,† Trish stated, motioning to the line of fish-eye focal points coating the roof high above. â€Å"Security here is computerized. Every last bit of this hall is recorded twenty-four/seven, and this hallway is the spine of the office. It's difficult to get to any of the rooms off this passageway without a key card and PIN number.† â€Å"Efficient utilization of cameras.† â€Å"Knock on wood, we've never had a burglary. On the other hand, this isn't the sort of historical center anybody would robâ€there's very little approach the bootleg market for wiped out blossoms, Inuit kayaks, or monster squid carcasses.† Dr. Abaddon laughed. â€Å"I assume you're right.† â€Å"Our greatest security danger is rodents and insects.† Trish clarified how the structure forestalled creepy crawly pervasions by freezing all SMSC reject and furthermore by an engineering highlight called a â€Å"dead zone†Ã¢â‚¬an aloof compartment between twofold dividers, which encompassed the whole structure like a sheath. â€Å"Incredible,† Abaddon said. â€Å"So, where is Katherine and Peter's lab?† â€Å"Pod Five,† Trish said. â€Å"It's right toward the finish of this hallway.† Abaddon ended out of nowhere, turning on his right side, toward a little window. â€Å"My word! Will you take a gander at that!† Trish chuckled. â€Å"Yeah, that is Pod Three. They call it Wet Pod.† â€Å"Wet?† Abaddon stated, face squeezed to the glass. â€Å"There are more than 3,000 gallons of fluid ethanol in there. Recollect the goliath squid corpse I referenced earlier?† â€Å"That's the squid?!† Dr. Abaddon abandoned the window quickly, his eyes wide. â€Å"It's huge!† â€Å"A female Architeuthis,† Trish said. â€Å"She's more than forty feet.† Dr. Abaddon, clearly delighted by seeing the squid, appeared to be not able to pull his eyes from the glass. For a second, the developed man helped Trish to remember a young man at a pet-store window, wishing he could go in and see a pup. After five seconds, he was all the while gazing longingly through the window. â€Å"Oka