Chapter Four
Fowl Manor
"Are you positive?" Artemis asked.
"Quite sure," Butler said. "Whatever files were stored on that ILM camera...we...purchased have been erased. I sent it to a friend at the NSA, in the States. He says someone detonated some kind of data charge. It destroyed the data and then any reference to the topics it destroyed. The only hope would be to get the physical data off of the camera."
Artemis looked pensive. "Can we do that here, or does it have to be sent out?"
"I already checked," Butler said. "There simply seems to be pictures of the path up to the house. Perhaps a frame-by-frame analysis—"
"That is one thing we can't do on our own," Artemis agreed. "Perhaps your friend in the NSA can help us."
"I'll set up a video conference with him as soon as I can," Butler replied. He patted Artemis on the shoulder. "Cheer up. Master Fowl. We'll get them."
"You're right," he replied. "They'll wish that they never messed with Artemis Fowl the Second."
A few hours later, the conference was on. Butler's friend looked somewhat flustered. "What's up, Butler?" he asked. "You look different. Did you do something with your hair?" Artemis wondered how exactly you were supposed to do something to a shaved head.
"Just a little slower and older, Mack," Butler replied. "How are things in the States? You look like you could use a break."
"I've been busy tracking down hackers," Mack replied. "This was supposed to be an easy desk job after Army service. Ha! I've had my hands full since I sat down."
"Doing what?" Artemis asked.
"Let me put it this way," Mack said. "Have you ever heard of Eric Champlain?"
"Can't say I have," Artemis replied, looking puzzled. "Should I?"
"This kid's been my life since I started here. My first day on the job, he hacked into my profile and made it so I was a 70 year old, obese, egotistical person with suicidal tendencies."
Artemis was intrigued. "How did he get in? I—uh, my associates, have never gotten into NSA files."
A/N: I am not making him refer to the fairies! He doesn't remember them yet!
Mack shrugged. "Who knows? He's a typical kid, I guess you'd call him a preppie. He goes to some private school in Rhode Island. Never gone hungry a day in his life, lives fairly well, plans for college. Basically a typical American kid. So how the hell did he get into our files?"
Artemis was intrigued. "Can I talk to him?"
Mack smiled. "Let me put it this way, Artemis. If you can just tell me how he got in, I'll fly him up to you."
"No need," he replied. "I can be where you are with the Lear jet. I'd like to have a talk with Master Champlain."
Haven City, the Lower Elements
Holly had finally made it through the crush at the thoroughfare back to her apartment. She sighed with relief as she entered the cool confines of her home. Now, her life was her own. No interruptions, jobs, assignments...
She made her way over to her fridge and took out a tumbler of fresh spring water. As she did, she remembered another time...
Artemis helped himself to a bottle of still water from the chiller cabinet.
"This tastes unusual," he commented. "Not unpleasant, but different."
"Clean is the word you're looking for," said Holly. "You wouldn't believe how many filters we have to put it through to purge the Mud Man from it."
Ah, those were better days, she thought. After that incident in the Arctic, they had gone on a small outing to celebrate their success. A kind of picnic. Everyone had just unwound and had fun. She chuckled at the memory of Artemis diving to catch a Frisbee in his Armani suit, and Butler grilling hamburgers and hot dogs (vegetarian, of course—no meat for the LEP). She even had a picture that Foaly had taken of them. All of them were spread out on the blanket, laughing and having a good time.
Holly sighed. Now, Artemis was gone, as good as dead to the fairy realm. She wondered why it had to be that way.
Fowl Manor
"Are you positive?" Artemis asked.
"Quite sure," Butler said. "Whatever files were stored on that ILM camera...we...purchased have been erased. I sent it to a friend at the NSA, in the States. He says someone detonated some kind of data charge. It destroyed the data and then any reference to the topics it destroyed. The only hope would be to get the physical data off of the camera."
Artemis looked pensive. "Can we do that here, or does it have to be sent out?"
"I already checked," Butler said. "There simply seems to be pictures of the path up to the house. Perhaps a frame-by-frame analysis—"
"That is one thing we can't do on our own," Artemis agreed. "Perhaps your friend in the NSA can help us."
"I'll set up a video conference with him as soon as I can," Butler replied. He patted Artemis on the shoulder. "Cheer up. Master Fowl. We'll get them."
"You're right," he replied. "They'll wish that they never messed with Artemis Fowl the Second."
A few hours later, the conference was on. Butler's friend looked somewhat flustered. "What's up, Butler?" he asked. "You look different. Did you do something with your hair?" Artemis wondered how exactly you were supposed to do something to a shaved head.
"Just a little slower and older, Mack," Butler replied. "How are things in the States? You look like you could use a break."
"I've been busy tracking down hackers," Mack replied. "This was supposed to be an easy desk job after Army service. Ha! I've had my hands full since I sat down."
"Doing what?" Artemis asked.
"Let me put it this way," Mack said. "Have you ever heard of Eric Champlain?"
"Can't say I have," Artemis replied, looking puzzled. "Should I?"
"This kid's been my life since I started here. My first day on the job, he hacked into my profile and made it so I was a 70 year old, obese, egotistical person with suicidal tendencies."
Artemis was intrigued. "How did he get in? I—uh, my associates, have never gotten into NSA files."
A/N: I am not making him refer to the fairies! He doesn't remember them yet!
Mack shrugged. "Who knows? He's a typical kid, I guess you'd call him a preppie. He goes to some private school in Rhode Island. Never gone hungry a day in his life, lives fairly well, plans for college. Basically a typical American kid. So how the hell did he get into our files?"
Artemis was intrigued. "Can I talk to him?"
Mack smiled. "Let me put it this way, Artemis. If you can just tell me how he got in, I'll fly him up to you."
"No need," he replied. "I can be where you are with the Lear jet. I'd like to have a talk with Master Champlain."
Haven City, the Lower Elements
Holly had finally made it through the crush at the thoroughfare back to her apartment. She sighed with relief as she entered the cool confines of her home. Now, her life was her own. No interruptions, jobs, assignments...
She made her way over to her fridge and took out a tumbler of fresh spring water. As she did, she remembered another time...
Artemis helped himself to a bottle of still water from the chiller cabinet.
"This tastes unusual," he commented. "Not unpleasant, but different."
"Clean is the word you're looking for," said Holly. "You wouldn't believe how many filters we have to put it through to purge the Mud Man from it."
Ah, those were better days, she thought. After that incident in the Arctic, they had gone on a small outing to celebrate their success. A kind of picnic. Everyone had just unwound and had fun. She chuckled at the memory of Artemis diving to catch a Frisbee in his Armani suit, and Butler grilling hamburgers and hot dogs (vegetarian, of course—no meat for the LEP). She even had a picture that Foaly had taken of them. All of them were spread out on the blanket, laughing and having a good time.
Holly sighed. Now, Artemis was gone, as good as dead to the fairy realm. She wondered why it had to be that way.