the alarm computer into thinking it had phone service. To do this, he
installed the in-line component and threw the switch, effectively
giving the Thornhills’ home a dial tone and phone line that went
absolutely nowhere. He had also found out that the Thornhills’ alarm
system had no cellular backup, just the regular landline. That was a
big hole. A cellular backup was incapable of being fooled, since it
was a wireless system with no way for Lee to access its feed line.
Virtually all alarm systems in the country had the very same backbone
land- and data-lines. And, thus, they all had back doors in. Lee had
just completed his. He packed up his tools and made his way through
the woods to the rear of the Thornhills’ home. He located a window
that was not visible from the street. He had a copy of the Thornhills’
floor plan and alarm layout. It had been provided to him by Fred
Massey. By accessing this window, he could reach the upstairs alarm
panel without passing any motion detector points. He pulled a stun gun
from his backpack and held it flush against the window. The windows
were all wired, even the second-floor ones, he knew. And both top and
bottom window components had contacts. Mosthomes only had contacts at
the bottom window casement; if that had been the case here, Lee would
have simply picked the window lock and slid down the top window,
without breaking any contacts. He pulled the trigger on the stun gun
and then moved it to another position on the window where he thought
the contact elements were probably located. In all, he fired eight
shots into the window frame from the stun gun. The electrical charge
from the gun would melt the contacts, fusing them together and
rendering them inoperable. He picked the sash lock, held his breath
and slid the window up. Noalarm sounded. He quickly climbed through
the window and closed it. Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket,
he found the stairs and headed up The Thornhills, he quickly observed,
lived in extremely comfortable luxury. The furnishings were mostly
antique; real oil paintings hung on the walls; and his feet melted into
the thick and, he assumed, expensive carpet.
The alarm panel was where all such alarm panels were located; on the
upper floor in the master bedroom. He unscrewed the plate and found
the wire for the sound cannon. Two snips and the alarm system had
suddenly developed laryngitis. Now he was free to roam. He went
downstairs and passed in front of the motion detector, waving his arms
in defiance, even giving it the finger, pretending it was Thornhill
there scowling at him, helpless to do anything about the intrusion. The
red light came on and the alarm system was activated, although the
system no longer could scream its warning. The computer would soon be
dialing the central station, only its call would never get there. It
would dial the number eight times, get no answer and then it would stop
trying and go back to sleep. At the central station, everything would
seem perfectly normal: a burglar’s dream.
Lee watched as the red light on the motion detector disappeared. Each
time he passed in front of it, though, it would go through the same
routine, with the same result. Call eight times and then stop. Lee
smiled. So far, so good. Before the Thornhills came home he would
reattach the wires for the sound cannons: Thornhill would be suspicious
if the normal beeping sound didn’t occur when he opened the door. But
for now, Lee had work to do.
CHAPTER 55
THE WHITE HOUSE DINNER WAS VERY MEMORABLE for Mrs. Thornhill. Her
husband, on the other hand, was working. He sat at the long table and
made inconsequential conversation when called upon, but spent most of
his time listening intently to the guests. There were a number of
foreign visitors tonight, and Thornhill knew that good intelligence
might come from unusual sources, even a White House dinner. Whether
the foreign guests knew he was with the CIA, he wasn’t sure. That was
certainly not public knowledge. The guest list that would be printed