Read Online The Survivor by Sean Slater - Free Book Online Page B

eight o’clock. Seven minutes after, if the local log is correct.’
    Computer lingo was foreign to Striker, but he got the gist of it. He turned back to Principal Myers, who hadn’t left the spot where she was standing, the embers of her menthol cigarette now reaching the filter.
    ‘Who has access to this?’
    Her eyes blinked, she came back to life. ‘Well, just . . . just me. And Vice Principal Smith.’
    ‘Smith. Where is he?’
    ‘Uh, Cancun.’
    ‘How long?’
    ‘He’s been there a week. And will be a week more.’
    Striker didn’t like the timing. He cursed. ‘No one else has access to the system? No one at all?’
    The ash fell off the end of the Principal’s cigarette and landed on the toe of her shoe. She didn’t react. ‘Well, we do have some student helpers. There’s two of them, but they—’
    ‘Their names, Caroline.’ Striker took out his pen and notebook.
    ‘Nava Sanghera and Sherman Chan. But they’re good kids. Nava’s in the hospital right now, getting her appendix out. And there’s no way that Sherman would ever—’
    Striker pointed his pen at Felicia. ‘Send someone to check on Nava, but see if you can find this Sherman kid yourself. Talk to him. See what he says. If you can’t locate him, at least get me his picture.’
    Felicia stepped back as if he’d put her on the defensive. ‘I should stay here. On the investigation with you.’
    ‘You need to find Sherman. The fewer people involved here, the better. I need you to do it. And be quick.’
    Her face reddened and she gave Striker a look, as if she was pissed at being directed. For a moment, he thought he was in for an argument, but then she turned back to Principal Myers.
    ‘Which hospital is Nava in, Caroline?’
    ‘Saint Paul’s, I think.’
    Felicia wrote down the information in her notebook, then snapped it shut and jammed it into the inner pocket of her suit jacket. She left the room without saying another word, slamming the office door behind her.
    Ich whistled softly. ‘Wow, your first day back, and just like old times.’
    Striker didn’t respond. He watched Felicia through the office window as she stormed down the hall, turned the corner and then disappeared from view. What the hell was wrong now? Of all the places for them to argue, this was the worst. A goddam school shooting. He felt like going after her, but didn’t.
    He struggled to let the thought go and turned his attention back to the series of flat-screen monitors that were arranged in three rows on the far wall. Each one of them showed nothing but an empty, sky-blue screen, except for the three monitors on the bottom-most row, which were turned off and completely black.
    Striker looked down at Ich, who was still seated at the keyboard.
    ‘This a good system, Ich?’
    Ich looked up from the computer logs and swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down like a yo-yo. ‘It’s an excellent system, even if it is analog. It’s the VISION 5, made by SecuCorp, the programme the Department was lauding a few years back – though I wouldn’t go spreading that around now, if I were you.’
    ‘Secret’s safe.’ Striker turned his attention back to Principal Myers.
    ‘I’ll get those lists you need,’ she said, and left the room.
    Striker was glad when she was gone. He approached the computer screens and propped his chin between his fingers and thumb. ‘I wonder, Ich, could someone circumvent the system? You know, hack it. Do whatever it is you techies do.’
    Ich shook his head. ‘Unlikely. Not unless you had a real whizz here. And I mean a real whizz. Like “Hi, I’m Bill Fucking Gates”. This thing is high end, man. Two-five-six-bit encryption. Even for a pro with a high-end rig it would take months. Weeks at the very least. Whoever turned this baby off had a password.’
    Striker studied the different flat-screen monitors, then said slowly, ‘I’m no techie, but there’s something here that doesn’t make sense.’
    Ich looked