JК
The Third Option :: Flynn Vince
Страница: 47 из 267Cameron took the first flight for New York out of Charles De Gaulle in the morning, and the Jansens left from Orly and were to fly nonstop to Mexico City. From there they were to take a flight to Los Angeles and then home to Denver.
Cameron reached the northwest side of Washington Circle and continued up Pennsylvania Avenue. He had just left his small office at George Washington University. Cameron had worked at the CIA from 1974 to 1998. During his last year at Langley; he had been approached by someone who presented him with a job opportunity that would increase his income five-fold and allow him to dabble, free of congressional oversight, in something he really enjoyed. Part of the package was a professorship at GW that required about ten hours a week and paid as much as his old job at Langley. The class was about the CIA, it met three times a week, and he had two full-time teacher's assistants. There were other consulting jobs that came along with his new package and some cash bonuses for doing exactly what he was doing right now.
At 25th Street, Cameron took a right and headed halfway up the block before ducking into the Columbia Hospital for Women. He approached a row of pay phones. Three were being used, and two were not. Cameron plugged in the proper change and dialed a number. When the voice answered on the other end, Cameron brought his fingers up and pinched his larynx. His voice sounded scratchy and a pitch higher.
«I need a cab.»
The voice on the other end asked, «How fast, how far, and how many passengers?»
«In an hour. Twenty miles, domestic, and four passengers.»
There was barely a pause on the other end, then the reply, «Site four in sixty minutes. Anything else?»
It took Cameron an extra second to remember that site four was the Montgomery County Airpark, and then he replied, «No.» He hung up the phone and left the hospital. He hated using phones. It came from years of knowing first-hand the capabilities of the NSA and the CIA, but there was little choice, given the urgency of what he had to do. Cameron had just left one of the computer labs at George Washington. He rarely used his office computer to surf the Web, and when he worked out of the labs, he tried to use a different computer each time. He had also obtained a list of students with Internet accounts and their passwords. The Internet was the strange new world, and the laws protecting privacy on it hadn't yet made it into the infancy stage.
Virtually every law enforcement, military, and intelligence agency monitored the Web searching for patterns of suspected spies, terrorists, and criminals.
Cameron reached the northwest side of Washington Circle and continued up Pennsylvania Avenue. He had just left his small office at George Washington University. Cameron had worked at the CIA from 1974 to 1998. During his last year at Langley; he had been approached by someone who presented him with a job opportunity that would increase his income five-fold and allow him to dabble, free of congressional oversight, in something he really enjoyed. Part of the package was a professorship at GW that required about ten hours a week and paid as much as his old job at Langley. The class was about the CIA, it met three times a week, and he had two full-time teacher's assistants. There were other consulting jobs that came along with his new package and some cash bonuses for doing exactly what he was doing right now.
At 25th Street, Cameron took a right and headed halfway up the block before ducking into the Columbia Hospital for Women. He approached a row of pay phones. Three were being used, and two were not. Cameron plugged in the proper change and dialed a number. When the voice answered on the other end, Cameron brought his fingers up and pinched his larynx. His voice sounded scratchy and a pitch higher.
«I need a cab.»
The voice on the other end asked, «How fast, how far, and how many passengers?»
«In an hour. Twenty miles, domestic, and four passengers.»
There was barely a pause on the other end, then the reply, «Site four in sixty minutes. Anything else?»
It took Cameron an extra second to remember that site four was the Montgomery County Airpark, and then he replied, «No.» He hung up the phone and left the hospital. He hated using phones. It came from years of knowing first-hand the capabilities of the NSA and the CIA, but there was little choice, given the urgency of what he had to do. Cameron had just left one of the computer labs at George Washington. He rarely used his office computer to surf the Web, and when he worked out of the labs, he tried to use a different computer each time. He had also obtained a list of students with Internet accounts and their passwords. The Internet was the strange new world, and the laws protecting privacy on it hadn't yet made it into the infancy stage.
Virtually every law enforcement, military, and intelligence agency monitored the Web searching for patterns of suspected spies, terrorists, and criminals.