You stick it into that hole in the lock case there, see?â
âAnd you have the special key, right?â
âNope.â Catching the murderous look in Mottiâs eyes, Patch moved on swiftly. âBut I do have a fibreoptic scope. I can stick
that
into the lock case and read the correct positioning of the wheels on thecombination dial thatâll free the bolt.â
âSounds clever.â
âItâs bloody genius, mate.â
âGet on with it.â
Patch got out his scope and set to work.
Jonah rebooted the server in Coldhardtâs data centre. âOK. Firewall should be up and running now.â He glanced over at Coldhardt. âIf you restart, you should be able to access all your shared files.â
The old man did not acknowledge him, staring into space with a gaze as blank as the screen in front of him. Jonahâs eyes lingered on the small, unsettling statue upon his desk; it depicted a man in combat with some squat, demonic figure. It was a theme common to many of the artworks Coldhardt put on display, and every variation gave Jonah the same shivers.
âThank you, Jonah.â Coldhardt snapped suddenly back into life. âA timely announcement. I need to check some aerial maps of the area.â
âWhat area?â
âColorado Springs.â He paused. âThat Black House address I found mentioned in Kabacraâs records â it cannot be found on any official maps.â
Jonah frowned as he finished checking the proxy server was up and running â a further protective barrier between Coldhardtâs network and any possible attack from over the Internet. âCould it have been a bogus address? Or maybe encoded in some way?â
âPossibly,â Coldhardt conceded. âOnce you have hacked into a certain satellite scanner in low orbit over the area and secured us a live feed, we can becertain.â He fixed Jonah with those unnerving blue eyes. âSomethingâs existence may be denied. But thatâs not to say it doesnât exist.â
For some reason, Jonah found his eyes drawn to the statue of the man and demon again.
He blinked. âI, uh ⦠I know that in the UK some American military bases arenât marked on the maps. Could Black House be something like that?â
âPossibly. Thereâs a good deal hidden in this world from all but the most prying of eyes.â
âLike your treasure vault down in the wine cellar?â asked Jonah lightly.
Coldhardt looked at him stonily.
âIf you have to kill me âcause I know too much,â said Jonah apologetically, âI figured I should tell you
before
I blow my last hours hacking into that low-orbit satellite.â
âI had hoped you would live long enough to outgrow this flippant streak, Jonah. How do
you
come to know of the vault?â
âTye found that big hidden door down there. She showed it to me.â
âAnd you believe I store my treasures behind it?â
âI havenât told any of the others.â Jonah shrugged. âI just figured you should know that Tye knew about it. Because if Sixth Sun manage to make her talk, well ⦠then theyâll have found out about it too.â
And if that doesnât get you more fired up about doing something to rescue her
, he thought,
what the hell will?
But Coldhardt simply got up from his desk and walked calmly away. âPerhaps, for the time being, youâd restrict your curiosity to the spy satelliteâs IPaddress, and the relevant co-ordinates. I want to know more about this Black House.â
Subject closed
, Jonah surmised.
For the time being
.
Tye lay on the bed in her dressing gown, still and quiet in the darkness, listening to Ramez breathe beside her. Theyâd had the lights down low, soft music playing. Then the lights had suddenly flicked off into blackness, the hi-fi went dead. And yet in the darkness Tye had felt suddenly exposed. It came down
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