froze at Fisher’s words.
“Well, you’re in luck, lady.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not only security conscious, I’m anal as hell. I’ve lost too many
files over the years that weren’t backed up properly, Sid.”
“Are you saying what I think you are, Jeff?”
“While you were in the kitchen when we were working on trying to decrypt
the file…” He paused somewhat dramatically. “I made a couple copies
of the files on the disk. One on my hard drive and one on another
floppy.”
Sidney couldn’t speak at first. When she did, her response made Fisher
blush. “I love you, Jeff.”
“When do you want to come over so we can finally see what’s on that
sucker?”
“I can’t, Jeff.”
“Why not?”
“I have to go out of town. I want you to send the disk to an address
I’m about to give you. I want you to FedEx it. Drop it off first thing
in the morning. First thing, Jeff.”
“I don’t understand, Sidney.”
“Jeff, you’ve been a big help, but I don’t want you to understand it. I
don’t want you involved any more than you already are. I want you to go
home, get the disk and then go stay at a hotel. The Holiday Inn in Old
Town is near your place. Send me the bill.”
“Sid–”
“As soon as the FedEx office opens in Old Town, I want you to drop the
package off,” she repeated. “Then call in to the office, tell them
you’re extending your vacation for a few more days. Where does your
family live?”
“Boston.”
“Fine. Go to Boston and stay with them. Send me the bill for your
transportation. Fly first class if you want. Just go.”
“Sid!”
“Jeff, I have to get off in a minute so don’t argue with me. You have
to do everything I’ve just told you. It’s the only way you can be
reasonably safe.”
“You’re not kidding, are you?”
“Do you have something to write with?”
“Yes.”
She flipped through her address book. “Write down this address.
Send the package there.” She gave him her parents’ mailing address and
phone number in Bell Harbor, Maine. “I’m truly sorry I had to involve
you in this at all, but you’re the only one who could help me.
Thank you.” Sidney hung up.
Fisher put the phone back in its cradle, looked warily around the
darkened area, ran to his car and drove home. He was about to park his
car at the curb when he noticed a black van about a block behind him. As
he squinted in the dark light, Fisher was able to discern two figures in
the front seat of the van. His breathing immediately accelerated.
He did a slow U-turn in the middle of the street and headed back toward
the heart of Old Town. He didn’t look at the driver as he passed by the
van. When he checked his mirror again, the van was following him.
Fisher pulled his car to a stop in front of the two-story brick
building. He looked up at the sign: CYBER@CHAT. Fisher was good
friends with the owner and had even helped set up the computer systems
offered at CyberChat.
The bar stayed open all night and with good justification. Even at this
hour it was three-quarters full, mostly with a college-age crowd who
didn’t have to get up and go to work the next morning.
However, instead of blaring music, rowdy patrons and a smoky atmosphere
(because of the sensitive computer equipment, no smoking was allowed)
the interior was filled with the sounds of computer games and low, often
intense discussions about whatever was tripping its way across the
abundance of computer monitors in the place. The age-old art of
flirting still took place, and men and women roamed the room in search
of companionship, however brief.
Fisher found his friend, the owner, a young man in his twenties, behind
the bar and struck up a friendly conversation. Explaining enough of his
situation to enable his friend to assist him, Fisher discreetly handed
across the piece of paper containing the address in Maine Sidney had
given him. The owner disappeared into the back room. Within five