| Subject: Whispered Identities - Chapter 182 |
Author:
Lynuslinus
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Date Posted: Thursday, March 10, 08:12:47pm
In reply to:
Lynuslinus
's message, "Whispered Identities - Chapter 175 - 190 - Repost" on Thursday, March 10, 07:46:55pm
Nikita showered, ate a light breakfast and proceeded to the main computer systems room; she stood before the security panel, entered her code and leaned into the iris scan. The heavy door swung open and she entered, shouldering a small backpack containing juice, snacks, the discs Michael had left her, and a cd walkman. As she walked to the main control center, she stood looking about the room.
“Hummmm....just another day at the office.” She slid into the chair, booted up the main towers and switched on the bank of monitors. “Probably should have had Michael give me a run down on the full operation....oh well, here goes.”
She inserted the discs Michael had given her; the coding information scrolled on three monitors. Nikita began tapping on the keyboard, inserting the codes to perform the core dump of the MI-6 directory and decode possible intel.
“This is going to be mind numbing...where’s my walkman.” She reached down and retrieved her portable cd and slipped on the headphones; the sounds of Avril Lavigne filled her ears.
“Ok Avril, I start with you to keep me awake, then might have to change to Eminem!”
Nikita laughed to herself, thinking how Michael would so not approve of her music choice - especially performing delicate computer tasks. She continued watching the information retrieval appear on the screens - all routine intelligence gathering information. How many more days, and months of this boring stuff did she have to decipher?
“How does Michael have the patience and intense interest in this? But then, he’s writing programs - sneaking into bank accounts, creating false ones, delving into secret worlds.” She grinned. “Who would have thought I’d fall for a computer geek!”
Nikita continued working for two hours until she felt her neck muscles stiffen. She rose, slipping the cd player onto her belt and began strolling around the room, stretching and doing knee bends. She wandered back to her keyboard and tapped in more possible decodes and stood back watching more routine intel scroll over the screens. Nikita closed her eyes and let her body move with the rhythm of the music on the cd; she began dancing around the room, taken with the music now. As she spun around, she bumped into the corner of a computer table at the end of the room. She stopped quickly and rubbed her knee where she had bumped it. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the device Michael had called a crocus - the one that looked like an ordinary palm pilot. Picking it up, she examined the connection and walked back to the main terminal and plugged it into a USB port. She turned on the crocus, tapped the keyboard to transfer to the device and stood watching.
“Hummm...maybe Michael didn’t have time to work on the software to initiate it to function.”
Suddenly a series of numbers began flashing rapidly on the screen. Nikita sat down quickly and turned off her cd player. “This looks promising...now what was this device suppose to do...oh, yes - install itself on internet providers and monitor email, cell phone and digital pagers. Very good Nik! You pass computer boredom 101!”
A stream of hexadecimal code raced by on three screens, at a dizzying pace and continued for ten minutes. Nikita watched in awe. “Wow! Now if I only understood what all this meant. Did this perform for Michael like this? Maybe it means nothing. My gawd, I’m so out of my depth here.”
Suddenly the screen froze with a single series of numbers written across the frame; a woman’s voice echoed from the computer speakers, repeating the numbers over and over. Nikita stood motionless, eyes riveted to the monitors. She glanced at a monitor on her far right - the last of her core dump decodes were flashing rapidly.
“Oh my god...the two programs have connected somehow...the decodes have synced with the crocus codes...what are the chances of that happening....well for me anyway!”
Nikita sat staring at the large numbers on the screen and looked up at the speakers; the haunting female voice continued to repeat the sequence.
“Okay lady, you’re starting to get on my nerves.” Nikita reached over and turned off the speakers. “Alright...think Nik....what should I do now....write down the numbers...yes...”
She grabbed a notebook and scribbled the number sequence, then returned her attention to the monitor. “What did I do at Section...learning all the protocol...think Nikita! Awwww...yes! The program must certainly recognize keystrokes of one form or another...what are they now....think! Ahhhh...commands, shortcuts...or what was that other thing....mnemonics?”
Nikita face turned into a grin. “YES!” She typed the sentence universally used by coders trying out new computer languages: Hello World.
The screen went blank and slowly a series of numbers and dates appeared in chronological order. The screen filled and asked for a prompt to continue. Nikita frantically reached for a disc and slipped it into the drive to save the information. An error message appeared stating the content could not be saved without password protocol. Nikita bit her lip, then grabbed her backpack, pulling out her Sony cybershot digital camera; she aimed at the screen and took a series of shots of the screen information. Checking to confirm the camera had stored the information, she returned her attention to the screen and clicked the prompt to continue. Another page of numbers and dates appeared; again Nikita took pictures of the screen numbers. She continued this process for six more pages until the screen turned black on the last prompt.
She sat breathing rapidly, her face flushed; had she actually found important intel on the Medusa Society. Picking up the camera, she began viewing each frame of numbers. Then she noticed something on the right bottom corner of the picture - a small insignia...an ancient mythological symbol of the medusa Rondanni. Nikita grinned: Those art classes were paying off.
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