Free Off the Chart by James W. Hall Page A

schedule.”
    With Anne looking over his shoulder, Sal sat at their tiny desk and tapped out the code to slip into the FROM. From this point on, they’d camp inside the Web site for the moment-by-moment updates on the ship’s position.
    â€œShit,” Sal said. “Shit, shit, shit.”
    Daniel set aside the Mac-10 he was cleaning and came over.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThere’s a lag,” Sal said. “Look.”
    Anne and Daniel leaned close to the computer. The stream of data that had always flowed smoothly across the screen, updated every two or three seconds, had slowed to a crawl.
    â€œWhat is that?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Sal said. “But it’s not right.”
    â€œHave they fingered us? They know we’re inside?”
    â€œCould be the satellite. Some kind of weather interference. But it’s never been this slow.”
    As they watched, the screen blinked as if the laptop were losing power; then the stream of numbers and coded letters resumed its normal flow.
    Daniel stepped back.
    â€œA hiccup in the transmission,” Daniel said. “Nothing to worry about. A thunderstorm over the Pacific. Lightning in Guam. No big deal.”
    â€œYeah,” Sal said. “Could be.”
    Anne said, “They could do that, know we’re watching? Figure our location?”
    â€œIf they had reason to be suspicious, yeah, top security people might be able to discover we’ve hacked the site,” Sal said. “But track us back here? Not unless they’ve got the Pentagon in on it, a supercomputer doing the work. Not some piddling corporate security system. Or it could be the mercs.”
    Daniel shook his head at Sal, but Anne said, “Mercs? What’s that?”
    Turning away from her, Daniel said, “Mercenaries. Hired guns.”
    â€œFirst I’ve heard of that,” she said.
    â€œThere’ve been a couple of cases,” said Daniel. “Both times in the China Sea. A gang of ex-soldiers hired by the shipping companies.”
    â€œAnd what? They arrested some pirates?”
    â€œTook them out is more like it,” Sal said.
    â€œTook them out? Murdered them?”
    Daniel flashed a look at Sal and said to Anne, “The details are sketchy.”
    â€œBut they’re out there,” Anne said. “And that’s who this is?”
    â€œIt’s the weather,” Sal said. “Just some damn lightning storm.”
    They watched for a while longer as the data scrolled at a steady pace.
    Daniel tapped Sal on the shoulder and asked him to step outside. Sal rose, took another look at the screen, then shrugged and left. Daniel shut the door behind him.
    â€œAnne,” he said. “I think you should stay ashore for this one.”
    His eyes showed her nothing. A depthless smile.
    â€œWhat? You’re having a premonition? This computer thing?”
    â€œJust do me this favor, one time. Okay?”
    â€œWe don’t need to hit it at all,” she said. “There’s nothing special about this one. Something doesn’t feel right, let’s bail.”
    Daniel came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
    â€œYou won’t do this for me? Just this once. Stay home.”
    â€œWhat’s going on? You’re phasing me out? I’m supposed to start training to be the happy homemaker?”
    He drew his hands away as if they’d been stung. She hadn’t meant to lash out like that. But she couldn’t bring herself to apologize. He had a different look. Unsure, lost. It unnerved her, seeing him like that. The ground beneath her growing unsteady.
    He swept both hands back through his glossy hair and turned his eyes to a window in the cabin.
    â€œIf I died,” he said, “or we got separated, what would you do, Anne?”
    â€œYou’re not going to die.”
    He turned to her then, his eyes as harsh as she’d ever seen them.
    â€œI asked you what