CHAPTER NINE

Ilsa knew that she was no Luther or Benji, but she believed she was on the right track. She was building her computer from scratch, and it was going to be extremely basic. It was her belief that The Entity was too smart for its own good. While it could go into any modern system, it mightn't be compatible with older models.

Some of the most intelligent people on the planet are stumped by riddles written for children, Ilsa thought to herself.

She had taken a break from her project to run errands in town. One of these errands was to check her mailbox at the post office. She always held her breath when she checked it. For the first time since she had arrived, there was a package. It was addressed to "Ms. Turnadot."

The opera we attended in Vienna. This is from Ethan.

She rushed back home to open the package in the safety of her basement. When she did, she found a pair of high heels. There was no note, merely the shoes. She looked over them fondly.

"He always did say he loved my shoes…"

Then, she noticed the heels were not firmly attached to the rest of the shoe. She pulled them aside to find a battery pack and some sort of chip. Though she checked the rest of the package and shoes thoroughly, whatever they went to hadn't arrived yet. Ethan had split the package in case one was taken by the wrong side.

One day later, the other package arrived. This one contained a mini metal replica of Big Ben. London. Our place, Ilsa knew. She fidgeted with the statue until the clock popped out. She reached inside to find an old Nokia cellphone. She readily inserted the chip and battery pack into the phone. Ethan wouldn't have sent it if it wasn't safe to use, yet what number should she call?

When she searched the rest of the Big Ben replica, she found a postcard from Casablanca. A single sentence was written on it: I'd write you a letter if I had a face.

She thought for a moment. "Letter. The letters are the numbers. Casablanca. It's a Moroccan number. Nine numbers after the zero. I-H-A-D-A-F-A-C-E. Nine letters. Nine numbers. Match those letters to the numbers on the dial pad…442323223."

Without delay, she dialed the number.

Casablanca, Morocco –

Ethan and Benji occupied a safehouse in Casablanca. They had managed to stay a step ahead of those chasing them, but not by much. It was only the two of them. Luther was off the grid, Brandt was tied up with paperwork in Washington, and Grace was with the IMF in Virginia. Kitteridge didn't want to send Grace back out until she had passed some basic tests. That was fine by Ethan and Benji. They had things to do without the IMF's knowledge.

"Even if we nail down the route of this submarine, we know it was sunk. I know you can hold your breath for a good while, but not long enough to swim down far," Benji sighed.

"We'll need equipment. I have some favors I could call in," Ethan replied.

Just then, Ethan's Nokia phone buzzed in his pocket. Benji didn't hear it. "We'd need a submarine of our own. A boat. Scuba gear…"

"I'll be right back. I need a glass of water," Ethan said. He went to the kitchen in their safehouse, moving quickly to close himself in the nearby bathroom. Once the door was shut, he put the phone to his ear. He had a test phrase to be certain that it was Ilsa on the line. "I have a way out. Interested?"

"Lead the way," Ilsa's voice responded, echoing a moment from their past.

Ethan leaned against the wall as relief overtook him. "You made it."

"Of course I did. Are you all right?"

"Yes. We can't talk long. The battery life of these safe phones is very short. Benji found a way to connect them to an old satellite. Completely protected from The Entity."

Ilsa was glad to hear it. "Good. What's the score?"

"I got the completed key. We know what it opens. It's on a Russian submarine. Inside, there are codes that can destroy The Entity. We're trying to find that submarine. Gabriel is still out there somewhere, and I think he knows where that submarine is. But without our key he can't do anything."

"How can I help?"

"I'll know more when we find the submarine."

"I'm working on building a computer that's so simple The Entity couldn't hack it. Or I don't think so. When it's up and running, I can use it to do whatever we need to do undetected."

Ethan smiled to himself. "What can't you do?"

"See you. That's what I can't do."

"You will. I promise," he murmured. He checked his watch somberly. "We have to get off the phone. I need to conserve battery life."

Ilsa sucked in a low breath. "All right. Call me anytime."

"You'll hear from me again soon."

"Good luck, Ethan. I love you."

Hearing those three words made his heart soar. "I love you. Stay safe. Stay dead."

Their conversation ended there. When Ethan opened the bathroom door, Benji was standing there with his arms crossed. "Something to tell me, Ethan?"

"Benji…"

"That sure sounded like a conversation you'd have with Ilsa. She's alive, isn't she?"

"You can't breathe a word of this to anyone, all right? No one can know."

Benji threw his hands in the air. "I can't believe this! Why couldn't you have let me in on this secret, eh? I'm your friend. I'm her friend. I mourned her, you know. Wait…that's it! That's why you never lost it. You knew she was alive this whole time. Anything else you're keeping from me?"

"No. No, that's pretty much it."

"Okay then," Benji said as he calmed down. "So, she's all right?"

Ethan smiled. "She is."

"Good. I'm glad that she's all right. Is she laying low, or is she still in the fight?"

"Still in the fight. She's working on a computer that'll be immune to The Entity. Something about it being too simple for The Entity to figure out. That'll be an option for us if we need tech support."

Benji bobbed his head. "That Ilsa. Sharp as a tack. Why do you think I used those Nokia phones as the base for our safe phones?"

"Because a semi could run over them and they'd be fine?"

"That, and they're old. Just think about this. Since I've lived in America, I've watched some your god-awful baseball games. Not by choice, believe me. Anyway, I remember seeing how those pitchers throw a hundred miles an hour, and the players can hit the ball. Yet, when a pitcher throws slower—so slow it doesn't register on the speed gun—the players get confused. They've gotten used to a fast game. So used to it they strike out over easier pitches. If we simplify, The Entity is going to swing and miss."

Ethan liked the sound of that. "It's a plan. Still, it means nothing if we don't have a way to destroy it. We have to find that submarine."

"About that," Benji began. "I can't dig much deeper than I already have without someone noticing. All we have so far is the basic file on the existence of the Sevastopol and potential routes it may have taken. For anything else, I need to do a deep dive into the Russian's network. Since The Entity is looking for us, I can't do the hack without it knowing what we're up to."

"I know. I've been thinking that maybe there are some hardcopies lying around. If we can get our hands on those…"

"Are you suggesting that we break into the Russian Ministry of Defense to steal the files on the Sevastopol when we aren't even sure if they have hardcopies?" Benji asked.

Ethan shrugged. "If we want to pinpoint the route of that submarine without tipping our hand, that might be our only shot."

"It's a bad idea. Our 'friends' with American intelligence have shown up everywhere we've gone and complicated everything. Imagine if they showed up at the Russian Ministry of Defense while you were trying to infiltrate it."

Grinning, Ethan nodded. "Exactly. Once we have the location of the sub, we'll go down there and get the code. Then, we'll go to Ilsa and use her computer to find The Entity's server undetected. We'll go to that server and insert the code to kill it."

"You make it sound simple," Benji said.

"It's better than panicking," Ethan retorted.

With a grumble, Benji had to ask. "Are you sure that you're not wanting to charge into this so that you can hurry back to Ilsa?"

"I do want to hurry back to Ilsa, but we also have a job to do. Gabriel is going to be coming for us very soon. We have to keep moving."

"All right. Fair enough. Can I say just one thing?"

"What?"

"I hope you and Ilsa work out this time. I mean, I liked Juila, but you and Ilsa are meant to be."

Ethan grinned. "Book us a flight to Russia, Benji."