Read Online Take the Fourth by Jeffrey Walton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jeffrey Walton
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the same was true for the nice size closet—nothing seemed to be missing in the wardrobe department for a little girl, from shoes, sneakers, hair barrettes, little undies in every color, to bright t-shirts also in every color, sweaters and jeans, one or two very nice dresses appropriate for church attire and even a cute little jean jacket with rhinestones in the shape of a daisy. There was a nightstand with a white wicker lamp with a white wicker lampshade that provided the only source of light in the room… there was no natural light whatsoever. The bed was small but still perfect for a five year old and had a canopy with white ruffles around all the edges. Fresh linens and a big fluffy comforter on the bed disguised the fact that it was used. Pink throw pillows and a stuffed panda bear completed the ensemble. There was a bookshelf with many new and used children’s book with such classics as Chris Van Alsberg’s The Polar Express to the Grim Brothers’ Fairy Tales and the complete collection of the Chronicles of Narina. On top of the bookshelf were a record player and some old children’s records. There was even a fairly new Barbie’s dream house with pool and swimsuit Barbie along with her corvette in the one corner. On the walls were a few nicely framed prints of beach balls and a sandcastle and some seashells, and a full length built-in mirror on the opposite side of the bed. She even had her own bathroom with a toilet, a small tub and sink, a pink toothbrush and a pink plastic rinse cup, along with pink towels and a bathmat that matched. The bathroom was badly tiled all in white ceramic tile and would have made it sterile looking if it wasn’t for all the pink accessories. Any five year old girl would have thought this was heaven… . if not for the dead bolts on the steel door.
He opened his canvas bag, took out his little girl and placed her gently on the bed… . like sleeping beauty. He bent over and kissed her on the forehead, she did not wake—unlike sleeping beauty. He picked up the canvas bag, walked out the door, and clicked all three locks to their locked position. His little girl was safe at last; his little girl was home at last.
. . .
Chapter 9
T he chaotic day of the Mall Massacre came and went, it was closing in on early February, and it seemed as though the FBI had things under wraps and Jorja was back to the mundane work of poring over budget reports. Working at the DS&T was not a glamorous position by any stretch of the means; one could justifiably be called a nerd. It entails a flare for technology, analytical skills, as well as a vast comprehension for numbers, a lot of numbers and not just the ones and zeros of the digital world. Jorja is good at this part as well, strike that—great; this, more than any other characteristic was what propelled her into this position, the characteristic of her vast comprehension for numbers, numbers of the general ledger kind. She is responsible for budgets that involved payroll, computers, servers, routers, T1 and T3 lines, fiber optic lines, databases, satellite uplinks, software, pagers, cell phones, email, operating systems, and any other form of communication device that links people and people, computers and computers, and people and computers. She is responsible to report these numbers directly to the Deputy Executive Director of the CIA. She is responsible for running a tight ship and running a state-of-the-art ship—a ship that has to stay one step ahead of the competition, the thieves, the terrorists, the hackers, and the governments—both hers and theirs. She is responsible for learning on the fly, learning from the past, and learning from mistakes—both hers and theirs. Green eyed Jorja Carson, age thirty-eight, has many responsibilities as Deputy Director of the DS&T. and her most important responsibility is that of security.
As one can imagine, security at the Central Intelligence Agency is top
He opened his canvas bag, took out his little girl and placed her gently on the bed… . like sleeping beauty. He bent over and kissed her on the forehead, she did not wake—unlike sleeping beauty. He picked up the canvas bag, walked out the door, and clicked all three locks to their locked position. His little girl was safe at last; his little girl was home at last.
. . .
Chapter 9
T he chaotic day of the Mall Massacre came and went, it was closing in on early February, and it seemed as though the FBI had things under wraps and Jorja was back to the mundane work of poring over budget reports. Working at the DS&T was not a glamorous position by any stretch of the means; one could justifiably be called a nerd. It entails a flare for technology, analytical skills, as well as a vast comprehension for numbers, a lot of numbers and not just the ones and zeros of the digital world. Jorja is good at this part as well, strike that—great; this, more than any other characteristic was what propelled her into this position, the characteristic of her vast comprehension for numbers, numbers of the general ledger kind. She is responsible for budgets that involved payroll, computers, servers, routers, T1 and T3 lines, fiber optic lines, databases, satellite uplinks, software, pagers, cell phones, email, operating systems, and any other form of communication device that links people and people, computers and computers, and people and computers. She is responsible to report these numbers directly to the Deputy Executive Director of the CIA. She is responsible for running a tight ship and running a state-of-the-art ship—a ship that has to stay one step ahead of the competition, the thieves, the terrorists, the hackers, and the governments—both hers and theirs. She is responsible for learning on the fly, learning from the past, and learning from mistakes—both hers and theirs. Green eyed Jorja Carson, age thirty-eight, has many responsibilities as Deputy Director of the DS&T. and her most important responsibility is that of security.
As one can imagine, security at the Central Intelligence Agency is top
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