"If I could just call her room and-"

"I'm sorry," the concierge said, his politeness evaporating. "The Alfonso XIII has strict policies regarding client privacy."

Becker had no intention of waiting ten hours for a fat man and a prostitute to wander down for breakfast.

"I understand," Becker said. "Sorry to bother you." He turned and walked back into the lobby. He strode directly to a cherry roll-top desk that had caught his eye on his way in. It held a generous supply of Alfonso XIII postcards and stationery as well as pens and envelopes. Becker sealed a blank piece of paper in an envelope and wrote one word on the envelope.

ROCIO.

Then he went back to the concierge.

"I'm sorry to trouble you again," Becker said approaching sheepishly. "I'm being a bit of a fool, I know. I was hoping to tell Rocio personally how much I enjoyed our time together the other day. But I'm leaving town tonight. Perhaps I'll just leave her a note after all." Becker laid the envelope on the counter.

The concierge looked down at the envelope and clucked sadly to himself. Another lovesick heterosexual, he thought. What a waste. He looked up and smiled. "But of course, Mr….?"

"Buisan," Becker said. "Miguel Buisan."

"Of course. I'll be sure Rocio gets this in the morning."

"Thank you." Becker smiled and turned to go.

The concierge, after discreetly checking out Becker's backside, scooped up the envelope off the counter and turned to the bank of numbered slots on the wall behind him. Just as the man slipped the envelope into one of the slots, Becker spun with one final inquiry.

"Where might I call a taxi?"

The concierge turned from the wall of cubbyholes and answered. But Becker did not hear his response. The timing had been perfect. The concierge's hand was just emerging from a box marked Suite 301.

Becker thanked the concierge and slowly wandered off looking for the elevator.

In and out, he repeated to himself.

Chapter 31

Susan returned to Node 3. Her conversation with Strathmore had made her increasingly anxious about David's safety. Her imagination was running wild.

"So," Hale spouted from his terminal. "What did Strathmore want? A romantic evening alone with his head cryptographer?"

Susan ignored the comment and settled in at her terminal. She typed her privacy code and the screen came to life. The tracer program came into view; it still had not returned any information on North Dakota.

Damn, Susan thought. What's taking so long?

"You seem uptight," Hale said innocently. "Having trouble with your diagnostic?"

"Nothing serious," she replied. But Susan wasn't so sure. The tracer was overdue. She wondered if maybe she'd made a mistake while writing it. She began scanning the long lines of LIMBO programming on her screen, searching for anything that could be holding things up.

Hale observed her smugly. "Hey, I meant to ask you," he ventured. "What do you make of that unbreakable algorithm Ensei Tankado said he was writing?"

Susan's stomach did a flip. She looked up. "Unbreakable algorithm?" She caught herself. "Oh, yeah… I think I read something about that."

"Pretty incredible claim."

"Yeah," Susan replied, wondering why Hale had suddenly brought it up. "I don't buy it, though. Everyone knows an unbreakable algorithm is a mathematical impossibility."

Hale smiled. "Oh, yeah… the Bergofsky Principle."

"And common sense," she snapped.

"Who knows…" Hale sighed dramatically. "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Shakespeare," Hale offered. "Hamlet."

"Read a lot while you were in jail?"

Hale chuckled. "Seriously, Susan, did you ever think that maybe it is possible, that maybe Tankado really did write an unbreakable algorithm?"

This conversation was making Susan uneasy. "Well, we couldn't do it."

"Maybe Tankado's better than we are."

"Maybe." Susan shrugged, feigning disinterest.

"We corresponded for a while," Hale offered casually. "Tankado and me. Did you know that?"

Susan looked up, attempting to hide her shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. After I uncovered the Skipjack algorithm, he wrote me-said we were brothers in the global fight for digital privacy."

Susan could barely contain her disbelief. Hale knows Tankado personally! She did her best to look uninterested.

Hale went on. "He congratulated me for proving that Skipjack had a back door-called it a coup for privacy rights of civilians all over the world. You gotta admit, Susan, the backdoor in Skipjack was an underhanded play. Reading the world's E-mail? If you ask me, Strathmore deserved to get caught."

"Greg," Susan snapped, fighting her anger, "that back door was so the NSA could decode E-mail that threatened this nation's security."

"Oh, really?" Hale sighed innocently. "And snooping the average citizen was just a lucky by-product?"

"We don't snoop average citizens, and you know it. The FBI can tap telephones, but that doesn't mean they listen to every call that's ever made."

"If they had the manpower, they would."