Fatal by Arno Joubert Page A

gonads—”
    Neil smiled at her threat.  
    “For God’s sake, Neil, get your mind out of the gutter,” Alexa said shaking her head in disbelief.
    Neil grinned then continued. “OK, this program, Becky22, had replicated itself to the White House, CIA, FBI, and all prominent military intelligence systems’ computer networks across the globe. So Frydman starts reverse engineering the software to see what it’s doing.”  
    He walked to a chair and picked up his shoes, then sat and put them on. “Basically it's a fancy search engine, like Google, but focused on finding intel about the Dalerians. Frydman decoded it and ran it independently, and it spat out two names—Perreira and Callahan. He dugs around and found out that your dad and Bruce were investigating Perreira and Callahan in the nineties.” Neil looked up and shrugged. “So he phoned Bruce and told him about his findings.”
    Alexa frowned. “So how did you get to meet Callahan?” she asked doubtfully.
    “Well, I told Frydman how frustrating it was not to have someone inside the Dalerians to gain information firsthand. All that we had to go on were Perreira and Callahan’s locations and some other trite details.” Neil leaned back in his chair. “So he gave me Callahan’s cell number and I rang him up. Told him that I’m available to act as a double agent at the right price,” he said.
    “I knew it, you asshole. Everyone has a price, right?” she said with an exaggerated wave.
    Neil jumped up. “C’mon, Alexa. I needed to get into the organization. Do you know how much intel I gathered from Callahan? And I fed him garbage to keep him off our tracks.”  
    Alexa thought for a moment. “OK, and what is this stuff about my dad’s profile?”
    “Well, the moment that Frydman ran virus removal software to get rid of Becky22, it seems as if Becky22 realized it and came, I don’t know, kind of alive. The next thing he knows, Frydman starts receiving messages from your dad in his mailbox.”
    “Like we do on our phones?”
    Neil nodded. “Precisely. He hooked up a speaker and mike to the mainframe as the program requested, and your dad talked to him.”
    Alexa snorted. “C’mon Neil, that’s damn preposterous. You’re saying my dad is alive.”
    Neil grabbed Alexa’s shoulders. “He knew about everything. He said that he had always looked out for you, and he is able to track Perreira and Callahan and others across the globe by intercepting cell phone conversation, using digital face recognition on cameras at airports and bars and restaurants, and by tracing their credit card transactions.”  
    Alexa shook her head uncertainly.
    “Alexa, your dad must be alive.”  
    “Where is he?”
    Neil shrugged. “He doesn’t want to say.” He pursed his lips then removed his cell phone from his pocket. “Phone Zachary Cohen yourself, he has his own dedicated line at Mossad HQ.” Neil grinned. “He’s a nice guy. ”  
    The world tilted and spun around her. Déjà vu. She put her hands over her face and steadied herself, then she lifted her eyes and flicked a loose strand of hair from her eyelashes. “Um, OK.”
    Neil dialed a number and handed the phone to Alexa. A metallic voice answered.
    “Hello, Becky. I’ve missed you, my baby.”
    Alexa swallowed hard and her fingers twitched. She lifted her hand to her mouth, dropped the phone, and fainted
     

Mossad Headquarters
Tel Aviv, Israel

    Major Sal Frydman looked up at the security camera and nod a silent greeting. He inserted his security key into the reader and then opened the door to the OPS Room, Alexa following him inside. He pulled out a chair at a console and gestured for her to have a seat. She sat, looking around uncertainly.
    Frydman switched on a computer console in front of her. She stared in awe as thousands of characters flew in from the side of the screen and melded to form a face made of an assortment of alphanumeric characters.  
    The face smiled, and it resembled her