Firebreak

Rappleyea fumbled with this rapid-fire dialogue, saying, 'Well, I— I live here now, well, I don't exactly; I've got a job here.'

'Much industry in these parts?' Elkins asked. 'I thought it was mostly scenic, and hunting, and like that. You a guide?'

'No, I...' Rappleyea was stuck, involved deeper in conversation than he could handle. Elkins waited, smiling, friendly, interested without being intrusive, not pushing his new friend, and finally Rappleyea said, 'I'm working security, up at a lodge near here.'

'A lodge,' Elkins echoed. 'Like a hotel?'

'No, it's private, it's a real rich guy, he's almost never there, it's just us security people in the place.'

'Sounds like a cushy job,' Elkins commented. 'How come they make you live in the motel?'

'Oh, that's just temporary,' Rappleyea said. His left hand still held the game, but it was obvious he'd pretty much forgotten about it. He said, 'We had a robbery, a while ago, and the police want to—'

'A robbery!' Elkins was delighted. 'Up at this rich man's place? They get much?'

'No, the alarms went off, they got caught. Some of them got caught.'

'You caught 'em,' Elkins suggested, grinning, pointing at Rappleyea.

'Well, not all by myself.' Clearly, Rappleyea was enjoying being the center of somebody else's attention.

'How come you let some of them get away?' Elkins demanded, then laughed, and said, 'No, I'm kidding.' Sticking out his hand, he said, 'Frank Emerson, that's me.'

'Hi.' Rappleyea awkwardly shook hands. 'Dave Rappleyea.'

'Nice to know you, Dave. Listen, I'm with my pals at this booth right here, why don't you come join us?'

'Oh, 1 couldn't horn in on ...' Rappleyea said, the words fading into a mumble as he snuck a quick glance at his game.

Elkins said, 'Why not? Come on, we'd love to have you.' Moving toward the next booth, he said, very cheerful, to Parker and Wiss, 'They had a big robbery up where this guy works, can you believe it? A peaceful part of the world like this? Come on, Dave, meet the guys.'

'Well... okay,' Rappleyea said. With a shy but happy grin, he slid out of the booth. His face was pinker than before.

In the next forty-five minutes, he told them everything they needed to know.

4

On the one hand,' Elkins said, 'it's tougher, because now the law is there, and they know there's something to look for, and they're looking for it. On the other hand, it's easier, because there's only the two guys up there, no eyes to watch the monitors.'

'They're in the lodge,' Parker pointed out. 'Not in the staff house. They're sitting in there on top of the paintings.'

Lloyd said, 'With full communication with the outside world.'

'Sog,' Elkins commented.

'Not just Washington,' Lloyd told him. 'They're in touch with the state police in Helena, and the local police in Havre.'

They had brought all four chairs into Wiss's room in the motel, but none of them were seated. It was after eleven at night, the television in Wiss's room was on to the news with the sound turned off—just in case a picture of the lodge or somebody connected to it would appear—and they were deciding how to deal with the changed playing field. They all paced while they talked, stopped or walked while they listened.

Parker said, 'We've got to go in there soon. It isn't gonna get better up there. In the next day or two, they'll find the architect, they'll get their hands on the plans, they'll figure them out, they'll find that little private gallery, they'll call in the choppers.'

'We're not gonna do it tonight,' Elkins said.

Lloyd said, 'We almost could. It's quieter up there than it's been for quite a while.'

Parker said, 'What about daytime?'

'When they see us coming,' Wiss said, 'they call for reinforcements.'

'They've still got those lights,' Elkins pointed out, 'they'll see us no matter what time we come in, and that's the time they'll make their call.' He turned to Lloyd. 'What can you do about that?'

Lloyd shrugged, as though the answer were easy. 'Divert,' he said.

Wiss said, 'Larry? What do you mean, divert?'

'It's the equivalent of a wiretap,' Lloyd told him. 'In the old days, you'd just tap a phone, listen in, that's all there is to it. Once the lax came along, they had to work up a technology so they could divert the incoming fax to their own machine, print it out, then send it on where it was supposed to go in the first place, without any footprints on it from the diversion.

The feds were doing that with the stock market swindlers for a long time before anybody caught on. And now the same kind of concept works for e-mail. Divert it so you can read it, then send it on as though nothing had happened, with only the original sender's track on it.'