There was also very little discussion about what Dominique might do to prevent all this from occurring. The man not only commanded a terrorist army, he himself had killed. He would probably go to any lengths to protect his empire.
Why not? Hood asked himself as they neared the main entrance. Dominique would probably find himself above the law. Since the crippling rail strike of 1995, France had been reeling from public sector labor disputes and crippling unemployment. Who would dare take on a big employer like Dominique? Especially if he claimed that he was being harassed. Even Ballon’s superiors would have to acknowledge that their man was a fanatic. And that was if they were inclined to be charitable, thought Hood.
An iron gate had been added to the perimeter of the bastide. The only concession to the modern day were small, black video cameras which looked out from the tops of the arabesque designs on top. There was a large red brick booth behind the gate, designed in the style of the edifice. As the group approached, two men emerged. One was a uniformed guard, the other a young man in a business suit. Neither seemed surprised by the arrival of Ballon’s party.
“Colonel Bernard Benjamin Ballon of Le Groupe d’Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale,” Ballon said in French as he reached the gate. He withdrew a leather wallet, unfolded a document, and held it open on his side of the gate. “This is a search warrant, executed by Judge Christophe Labique in Paris and countersigned by my commander, General Francois Charrier.” The man in the business suit extended a manicured hand through the gate. “I am M. Vaudran of the law firm Vaudran, Vaudran, and Boisnard. We represent Demain.
Show me your warrant.” “You understand that I’m only required to present the document and explain the purpose of my visit,” Ballon said.
“I will take it and read it and only then will you be admitted.” “The law says you can read it while we search,” Ballon informed him. “You are familiar with the law? You may have it as a keepsake once we’re inside.” Vaudran said, “I must show it to my client before I can admit you.” Ballon glared at him for a moment; then held the document up to the camera on top of the gate. “Your client sees it,” he said. “This is a warrant, not a request. Open the gate.” “I’m sorry,” the attorney said, “but you need more than a piece of paper. You need cause.” “We have that,” Bailon said. “Proprietary elements have appeared in both Demain computer games and a hate game on the Internet called Hangin’ with the Crowd.” “What kind of elements?” “A level-select code. We have it on computer. You are entitled to see it before a trial, not before a search. It’s all in the warrant. Now, M. Vaudran, open the gate.” The attorney regarded Ballon for a moment, then signaled his associate to return to the booth. The guard shut the wooden door and picked up a telephone.
“You have sixty seconds,” Ballon yelled to him. He looked at his watch. “Sergeant Ste. Marie?” “Yes, sir!” “You have charges to blow open the lock?” “Yes, sir.” “Prepare them.” “Yes, sir.” The attorney said, “You realize what you’re doing, I hope?” Ballon continued to look at his watch.
“Careers have been ruined by lesser mistakes,” Vaudran pointed out.
“There’s only one career at risk,” Ballon said. He looked directly at the attorney. “No. Two.” He looked down again.
Hausen had translated the exchange for Hood, Stoll, and Nancy. As Hood stood watching, he wondered what they were going. to accomplish by this operation. Dominique had surely seen them outside and had concealed or destroyed anything incriminating. He was probably using these last minutes to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.
Less than a minute after leaving, the guard was punching a code into a panel in the booth. Ballon marshaled his men at the gate. A moment later the attorney had gone toward a side entrance of the main building and the French officers were inside. They marched up to a large golden door. One of the guards followed and opened the door by inputting a code in a box on the jamb. Ballon handed him the warrant before entering.
As soon as Balloon’s men were inside, they lined up at ease inside the front door. Ballon explained that if he found any material they wished to rmove, the men would be called to collect it and carry it to the van. Hood guessed that they’d done this so often in drills they could do it blindfolded. In the meantime, they were told to watch the exits and make sure no one left.
Ballon and his party continued into the factory. They crossed a hallway which, if this were a tour and he were a tourist, would have caused him to linger and stare at the spectacular arches and intricate tableaux carved in the stone.
Ballon’s voice brought him back to the reason they were here.
“This way,” the Colonel said softly but imperatively when they reached the end of the long corridor.
Ignoring the eyes of other guards who had also obviously been advised to let them pass, the quintet walked through a short passageway with small, barred windows to the door which led to the programming rooms of the Demain factory.
Hood hadn’t expected to see employees wandering about at night. But there weren’t even cleaning crews afoot.
Just the occasional guard, who ignored them.
Despite the addition of lights, alarms, cameras, and modern flooring, the edifice retained its ancient character.
That is, until a guard admitted them to the computer room.
The former dining hall had been turned into something which resembled the National Reconnaissance Office. The walls were white and the ceiling lined with recessed fluorescent lights. There were glass tables lined with at least three dozen computer terminals. A vacuum-formed plastic chair was attached to the floor at each station. The only difference between Demain and the NRO was, again, that there were no people. Dominique wasn’t taking any chances.
The warrant was due to expire in just over an hour. If no one were there to answer questions, it had to slow them down.
“This is some playroom,” Stoll said as looked around.
Ballon said to him, “Start playing.” Stoll looked at Hood. Hood, nodded silently. Stoll took a breath and looked at Nancy. “Got a preference?” he asked.
“It doesn’t really matter,” she said. “They’re all hooked to the same master computer.” Nodding, Stoll sat down at the nearest monitor, jacked his portable computer into the back of the computer, and powered up.
“They’ve probably dropped inhibitors into the system,” Nancy said. “How do you plan to get past those to the master system? I can probably help you with a few, but it will take time.” “We don’t need a lot of time,” Stoll said. He slipped a diskette into his B drive and booted it. “I always carry the Bulldozer program I wrote. It starts with my fast-acting Handshake Locator, which works on finding the mathematical keys to undo encryption. It doesn’t have to hit them exactly. If one-through-six and eight-through-ten don’t work, it doesn’t bother trying seven. Once Handshake learns some of the language, which only takes a few minutes, Bulldozer rolls in and searches for menus. Once I get those, I’m in. And while we look at the data here, I’ll be dumping everything into Op-Center’s computers.” Ballon squeezed Stoll’s shoulder, shook his head, and put a finger to his lips.
Stoll drove his palm into his forehead. “Sorry,” he said.
“Loose lips sink chips.” Ballon nodded.
As Nancy gave Stoll some passwords to try, Hausen wandered over to Ballon.
“Colonel, what are we going to do about Dominique?” “We wait.” “For what?” Hausen asked.
Ballon faced the German. He moved close to his ear.
“For Dominique to get nervous. As I indicated to M. Stoll, Dominique is certainly observing us. Hopefully, we’ll find something in the computer.” “And if we don’t?” Ballon said, “I have you.” “Me?” “I’ll ask M. Stoll and Ms. Bosworth to send out a message on the computer; your account of the murders in Paris. In either case, we will cripple Dominique.” Ballon grinned. “Although there is a third possibility. Dominique has waited twenty-five years for you. If he fears that you may finally reveal secrets about his past, the temptation will be great not to let you walk out that door.” “You really think he’d send his New Jacobins against us?” “I’ve ordered my men to stand back,” Ballon said. “If Dominique thinks he can get you before they can move in, he’ll surely be tempted. Once he does that, I’ll get all of you out and bring this place down.” He winked charmlessly. “As I’ve said, I’ve waited a long time for Dominique as well. I intend to have him.” Ballon withdrew then to watch what Stoll and Nancy were doing. Hausen remained where he was, as though he were bolted to the hardwood floor.