CASSIE'S SECRET FILE
Cassie leaned back in her chair in front of her computer and gave a frustrated sigh.
Was this then the end of all her hard work? Almost five months of tapping, hacking, and spying as a new teen agent in the FBI, and her hard- won secret codes for the Kor-Aldan terrorist phone line refused passage. She had been positive that they would work, but...ah! Cassie sat upright again and typed quickly. If the codes didn't work for these networks, then maybe they would enter in with this one, a REALLY secret line that even the FBI didn't know about yet. She pushed in the code.
Access code accepted. Press personal keys to enter.
"Yes!" A cry of exhilaration escaped her. Then she straightened up and frowned at herself. "I mean, good. Now for the personal code." She became the icy, logical detective again. She typed into the computer-
Guerilla Base Pakistan 354896 Unit B
Instantly her computer went black. Then, green words began to appear on the screen. A conversation was going on between a terrorist scientist and one of the leading rebels, a man known as Black Tag! Cassie's eyes widened as she realized what they were talking about.
BT: Did you arrange for the divert squad?
S. /Lab: Of course. An attack will be made the 21st of June
on London, England, from the air, land and sea.
You don't have to worry; I have it all planned carefully.
BT: If you fail, your position is forfeit.
S./Lab: I will not fail.
BT: Then the nuclear explosives are completed?
S./Lab: Not quite yet, but they will be ready in two months
or less.
BT: One month.
S./Lab: That is not possible, it can only be a month and a
half at minimum. My men are working as efficiently and secretly as
possible.
BT: Hang secrecy! No one knows of our plans.
S./Lab: But the Americans are on to our case.
BT: That means nothing. They do not worry me. I want those
explosives finished soon. In fact, I'd like the entrance code to the
plans, so I can observe your progress.
S./Lab: Here it is- A3668934652938476-3459-B9
BT: Good.
S./Lab: Hold on.
BT: What now?
S./Lab: Are you sure this line is safe?
BT: Of course I'm sure.
S./Lab: I think it's being tapped.
BT: Get rid of the present codes!
S./Lab: I'm destroying these files right away.
Suddenly, Cassie's screen went blank, and red words flashed
denial of access.
"Great." She tried to get back onto the conversation, but to
no avail.
"Well, I still have the nuclear plans," she said to herself.
An hour later, she scanned the calculations. Rows and columns of numbers and symbols rolled down the screen.
"Darn, these guys know their calculus," she muttered. Suddenly, an equation and diagram caught her eye. She looked more closely.
"Chemo-nucleic acid, two carbon bolts, a solution of THREE TONS OF REACTIVE R08!!!!!!!!!!!" This was a new chemical, discovered only a few years ago, and found to be highly explosive. A small quantity of this element could blow up something the size of the Empire State building!
"They must be mad!" She read the diagram again, and again. "They really are serious! They think they can blast something with this? If I'm correct..." she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. For twenty minutes she did rapid calculations and pored through her old science manual.
"I know that about two thousand miles into earth is its dense liquid core, made of compressed matter. Science has proven that it can exist in either of two stable states, but given a certain stimulus, it can change in a snap from one state to the other. If the Kor-Aldan drop an explosive this strong, then that will liberate almost as much energy as all the earthquakes since the beginning of the world! This planet would be destroyed! The terrorists may know calculus, but they're assuming too much in their chemistry! I've got to get this on paper and take it to headquarters right away."
Cassie pushed the 'print' button. Nothing happened.
"Come on, dumb computer," she groaned, tapping the print key. Suddenly, the terrorist bomb plans disappeared, and in their place were the dreaded words-
Access denied.
"NO, NO, NO!" Cassie banged on her computer. She desperately tried all the codes she knew.
Access denied.
Cassie clenched her fists. "I'll still try to convince the boss of what I've seen, even without hard evidence!" She grabbed the phone.
Two tension filled hours later she had gained two things:
The laughter and ridicule of all the main police and detective agencies in the country, and an official termination from the FBI manager.
"Please, you have to believe me, the world is going to come to an end!" she said as calmly and business like as she could to Matt Eisile from the FBI.
"Sure," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "and tomorrow I'm going to be the king of England!"
"There won't be a king of England if all this happens," Cassie pleaded with him.
"Look, kid, I agree that something has to be done about that terrorist threat on London. We've known about that for some time, and America is sending extra troops to support Britain. But, a nuclear attack to destroy the world? That's a bit too far-fetched. I think the strain of being an agent is taking its toll on you. Why don't you get a nice, peaceful job working as a college professor? Yeah, that would be a good idea. Give your mind a rest from terrorists and detective stuff. You're only eighteen, go get a real life."
Cassie's voice shook with anger. "You mean, you're firing me?"
"Well, if you want to put it that way...yeah. All I'm trying to do is give you a break, kid. Don't take it personally."
"I'm not a kid. And I AM taking it personally. You've wanted me out of the FBI ever since I solved the Venstrata Case that YOU couldn't figure out."
"Hey, that's going a bit too far, kid. You leave quietly, and I'll make sure word of your...insanity doesn't spread. Got it?"
Cassie hung up the phone and stared at it stonily.
"Look what you've done to yourself, Cassie. You try to save the world, and you end up losing the job that took five years to get and becoming the laughing stock of the police force. If you're not careful, they'll set you up in an insane asylum for the rest of your life! So, now what are you going to do?"
Cassie laid her head on the desk atop stacks of papers and files. It was rare that she ever admitted defeat, but this time it looked pretty serious. Then, one of her favorite sayings came into her head.
"Never give up, never say die, never stop trying, and never cry!"
She jumped to her feet and gritted her teeth. "Since when have I given up? If the FBI, police, army, navy, air force, and marines won't help me, then I'll just do it myself! Black Tag, watch out, here comes Cassie!"
Three days later, Cassie was on a plane headed for Pakistan.
Unfortunately, it was a cargo plane carrying bananas. And Cassie had to sit hunched over in the dark, dank, banana-smelling hold for almost eight hours, clutching her backpack and two suitcases.
Finally, the pilot landed the plane and opened the doors, letting Cassie out onto the field.
"Muchos gracias, senor," was all the exhausted young detective could say. She paid the Spanish man and dragged her bags off. After hailing a taxi, signing in at a rickety motel, arguing in broken Persian with the manager over food prices, and securely locking the doors and windows of her room, she collapsed on the bed.
Briiiiinggg.
"Darn, just when I wanted to rest!" Cassie grabbed her cell phone. "Cassie speaking."
"Listen to me."
Cassie inwardly groaned. Great, another anonymous caller tipping off a murderer who was seeking to blast some Secret Agent's brains out. She got them all the time.
"Hey, buddy, listen to ME. I don't work for the FBI anymore. So, thanks for your help, but you're talking to the wrong person."
"No. You are the right person."
"Back off, buster." Cassie pushed the end call button. It clicked satisfactorily. She was in no mood to talk to anybody right now.
The cell phone rang again.
"Hello, Cassie speaking." Her voice was terse. She wanted a nap. Now.
"Listen to me."
"Did you just call me a minute ago?"
"Yes."
"Blast!" Cassie shrieked. "Fine, if you have something to say, then hurry up and say it!" Her temper was at its frazzled end.
"Simply this: if you want to help this universe survive for more than forty-five more days, then I suggest you go to London's Big Ben in four days."
"What?" Cassie rolled over on her bed. "You must be kiddi..."
"Go up to the clock tower and I will be there. If you want my assistance, then you would be wise to do this."
"And why would I want your assistance?" Icily, in a dry tone.
"Because if you do not, then your world will end."
"Hey, who is this?" Cassie demanded angrily. Then she had an idea. She reached into one of her open suitcases and untangled a small black machine, hooking it up to the telephone. On the machine's screen, data began to pop up. She tried to keep whomever it was talking.
"So, you believe that the world's gonna end, do you? Funny, besides the Kor-Aldan and me, no one else knows that."
"I am not one of the Kor-Aldan."
"Well then. Who in the world are you?" Her eyes were fixed on the numbers that slowly began to emerge on the small machine's screen. She hastily scribbled them down on a piece of paper.
"I am not of this world."
"Ha ha. Then you must be a little green man from outer space. Nanoo- nanoo."
"No. That is not what I am."
"And I should trust you because...?"
"Because there is nothing else for you to do. Striving against the Kor-Aldan alone is futile. You need help."
"I think you need help, buster," Cassie said sarcastically, and hung up, because she had all the information she needed.
What the little black machine she had plugged into her phone was designed to do was track the exact global position of the caller and write it down as a series of numbers. She began to calculate.
Five minutes later...
"I must need a nap. This doesn't make sense."
Ten minutes after that...
"This is insane! Arg..."
And fifteen minutes later, after she had equated the numbers every logically conceivable mathematically correct way, they still evaded reason. The GPS location was inexorably pointing to a space out in the area about five hundred twenty three miles away from the earth. It was a stationary location, which was puzzling. Anything at that distance ought to be orbiting the earth, not staying in one place...
"What am I thinking!" Cassie shrieked aloud at herself, waving the paper and her phone wildly. "I am going berserk! I am going off my rocker! I'm losing all my marbles! My bats are leaving the belfry! This is insanely crazy!" Several hours later, after a nap and eight cups of tea, Cassie was on the phone with a travel agent, purchasing a ticket for the next plane to London.
Cassie leaned back in her chair in front of her computer and gave a frustrated sigh.
Was this then the end of all her hard work? Almost five months of tapping, hacking, and spying as a new teen agent in the FBI, and her hard- won secret codes for the Kor-Aldan terrorist phone line refused passage. She had been positive that they would work, but...ah! Cassie sat upright again and typed quickly. If the codes didn't work for these networks, then maybe they would enter in with this one, a REALLY secret line that even the FBI didn't know about yet. She pushed in the code.
Access code accepted. Press personal keys to enter.
"Yes!" A cry of exhilaration escaped her. Then she straightened up and frowned at herself. "I mean, good. Now for the personal code." She became the icy, logical detective again. She typed into the computer-
Guerilla Base Pakistan 354896 Unit B
Instantly her computer went black. Then, green words began to appear on the screen. A conversation was going on between a terrorist scientist and one of the leading rebels, a man known as Black Tag! Cassie's eyes widened as she realized what they were talking about.
BT: Did you arrange for the divert squad?
S. /Lab: Of course. An attack will be made the 21st of June
on London, England, from the air, land and sea.
You don't have to worry; I have it all planned carefully.
BT: If you fail, your position is forfeit.
S./Lab: I will not fail.
BT: Then the nuclear explosives are completed?
S./Lab: Not quite yet, but they will be ready in two months
or less.
BT: One month.
S./Lab: That is not possible, it can only be a month and a
half at minimum. My men are working as efficiently and secretly as
possible.
BT: Hang secrecy! No one knows of our plans.
S./Lab: But the Americans are on to our case.
BT: That means nothing. They do not worry me. I want those
explosives finished soon. In fact, I'd like the entrance code to the
plans, so I can observe your progress.
S./Lab: Here it is- A3668934652938476-3459-B9
BT: Good.
S./Lab: Hold on.
BT: What now?
S./Lab: Are you sure this line is safe?
BT: Of course I'm sure.
S./Lab: I think it's being tapped.
BT: Get rid of the present codes!
S./Lab: I'm destroying these files right away.
Suddenly, Cassie's screen went blank, and red words flashed
denial of access.
"Great." She tried to get back onto the conversation, but to
no avail.
"Well, I still have the nuclear plans," she said to herself.
An hour later, she scanned the calculations. Rows and columns of numbers and symbols rolled down the screen.
"Darn, these guys know their calculus," she muttered. Suddenly, an equation and diagram caught her eye. She looked more closely.
"Chemo-nucleic acid, two carbon bolts, a solution of THREE TONS OF REACTIVE R08!!!!!!!!!!!" This was a new chemical, discovered only a few years ago, and found to be highly explosive. A small quantity of this element could blow up something the size of the Empire State building!
"They must be mad!" She read the diagram again, and again. "They really are serious! They think they can blast something with this? If I'm correct..." she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. For twenty minutes she did rapid calculations and pored through her old science manual.
"I know that about two thousand miles into earth is its dense liquid core, made of compressed matter. Science has proven that it can exist in either of two stable states, but given a certain stimulus, it can change in a snap from one state to the other. If the Kor-Aldan drop an explosive this strong, then that will liberate almost as much energy as all the earthquakes since the beginning of the world! This planet would be destroyed! The terrorists may know calculus, but they're assuming too much in their chemistry! I've got to get this on paper and take it to headquarters right away."
Cassie pushed the 'print' button. Nothing happened.
"Come on, dumb computer," she groaned, tapping the print key. Suddenly, the terrorist bomb plans disappeared, and in their place were the dreaded words-
Access denied.
"NO, NO, NO!" Cassie banged on her computer. She desperately tried all the codes she knew.
Access denied.
Cassie clenched her fists. "I'll still try to convince the boss of what I've seen, even without hard evidence!" She grabbed the phone.
Two tension filled hours later she had gained two things:
The laughter and ridicule of all the main police and detective agencies in the country, and an official termination from the FBI manager.
"Please, you have to believe me, the world is going to come to an end!" she said as calmly and business like as she could to Matt Eisile from the FBI.
"Sure," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "and tomorrow I'm going to be the king of England!"
"There won't be a king of England if all this happens," Cassie pleaded with him.
"Look, kid, I agree that something has to be done about that terrorist threat on London. We've known about that for some time, and America is sending extra troops to support Britain. But, a nuclear attack to destroy the world? That's a bit too far-fetched. I think the strain of being an agent is taking its toll on you. Why don't you get a nice, peaceful job working as a college professor? Yeah, that would be a good idea. Give your mind a rest from terrorists and detective stuff. You're only eighteen, go get a real life."
Cassie's voice shook with anger. "You mean, you're firing me?"
"Well, if you want to put it that way...yeah. All I'm trying to do is give you a break, kid. Don't take it personally."
"I'm not a kid. And I AM taking it personally. You've wanted me out of the FBI ever since I solved the Venstrata Case that YOU couldn't figure out."
"Hey, that's going a bit too far, kid. You leave quietly, and I'll make sure word of your...insanity doesn't spread. Got it?"
Cassie hung up the phone and stared at it stonily.
"Look what you've done to yourself, Cassie. You try to save the world, and you end up losing the job that took five years to get and becoming the laughing stock of the police force. If you're not careful, they'll set you up in an insane asylum for the rest of your life! So, now what are you going to do?"
Cassie laid her head on the desk atop stacks of papers and files. It was rare that she ever admitted defeat, but this time it looked pretty serious. Then, one of her favorite sayings came into her head.
"Never give up, never say die, never stop trying, and never cry!"
She jumped to her feet and gritted her teeth. "Since when have I given up? If the FBI, police, army, navy, air force, and marines won't help me, then I'll just do it myself! Black Tag, watch out, here comes Cassie!"
Three days later, Cassie was on a plane headed for Pakistan.
Unfortunately, it was a cargo plane carrying bananas. And Cassie had to sit hunched over in the dark, dank, banana-smelling hold for almost eight hours, clutching her backpack and two suitcases.
Finally, the pilot landed the plane and opened the doors, letting Cassie out onto the field.
"Muchos gracias, senor," was all the exhausted young detective could say. She paid the Spanish man and dragged her bags off. After hailing a taxi, signing in at a rickety motel, arguing in broken Persian with the manager over food prices, and securely locking the doors and windows of her room, she collapsed on the bed.
Briiiiinggg.
"Darn, just when I wanted to rest!" Cassie grabbed her cell phone. "Cassie speaking."
"Listen to me."
Cassie inwardly groaned. Great, another anonymous caller tipping off a murderer who was seeking to blast some Secret Agent's brains out. She got them all the time.
"Hey, buddy, listen to ME. I don't work for the FBI anymore. So, thanks for your help, but you're talking to the wrong person."
"No. You are the right person."
"Back off, buster." Cassie pushed the end call button. It clicked satisfactorily. She was in no mood to talk to anybody right now.
The cell phone rang again.
"Hello, Cassie speaking." Her voice was terse. She wanted a nap. Now.
"Listen to me."
"Did you just call me a minute ago?"
"Yes."
"Blast!" Cassie shrieked. "Fine, if you have something to say, then hurry up and say it!" Her temper was at its frazzled end.
"Simply this: if you want to help this universe survive for more than forty-five more days, then I suggest you go to London's Big Ben in four days."
"What?" Cassie rolled over on her bed. "You must be kiddi..."
"Go up to the clock tower and I will be there. If you want my assistance, then you would be wise to do this."
"And why would I want your assistance?" Icily, in a dry tone.
"Because if you do not, then your world will end."
"Hey, who is this?" Cassie demanded angrily. Then she had an idea. She reached into one of her open suitcases and untangled a small black machine, hooking it up to the telephone. On the machine's screen, data began to pop up. She tried to keep whomever it was talking.
"So, you believe that the world's gonna end, do you? Funny, besides the Kor-Aldan and me, no one else knows that."
"I am not one of the Kor-Aldan."
"Well then. Who in the world are you?" Her eyes were fixed on the numbers that slowly began to emerge on the small machine's screen. She hastily scribbled them down on a piece of paper.
"I am not of this world."
"Ha ha. Then you must be a little green man from outer space. Nanoo- nanoo."
"No. That is not what I am."
"And I should trust you because...?"
"Because there is nothing else for you to do. Striving against the Kor-Aldan alone is futile. You need help."
"I think you need help, buster," Cassie said sarcastically, and hung up, because she had all the information she needed.
What the little black machine she had plugged into her phone was designed to do was track the exact global position of the caller and write it down as a series of numbers. She began to calculate.
Five minutes later...
"I must need a nap. This doesn't make sense."
Ten minutes after that...
"This is insane! Arg..."
And fifteen minutes later, after she had equated the numbers every logically conceivable mathematically correct way, they still evaded reason. The GPS location was inexorably pointing to a space out in the area about five hundred twenty three miles away from the earth. It was a stationary location, which was puzzling. Anything at that distance ought to be orbiting the earth, not staying in one place...
"What am I thinking!" Cassie shrieked aloud at herself, waving the paper and her phone wildly. "I am going berserk! I am going off my rocker! I'm losing all my marbles! My bats are leaving the belfry! This is insanely crazy!" Several hours later, after a nap and eight cups of tea, Cassie was on the phone with a travel agent, purchasing a ticket for the next plane to London.