Monday Night
Phillips was still working in his office after dark when his office phone buzzed. “Phillips.”
“Mr. Phillips, sir, this is Henry Harding in Engineering.”
To Phillips’ surprise, Stokes had messengered the hard copies of the emails to Phillips just before five. Phillips promptly had the set copied and sent for Harding, the acting chief of engineering in Hollander’s absence.
“This is a highly confidential project, Harding. No one is to know anything about this. Understand?”
Harding, a fortyish man with glasses, off-the-shelf suits from Men’s Wearhouse, and ties that were twenty years out of date, nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I want you to compare these papers to the originals. You know, the schematics and blueprints. Make sure they’re identical.” Phillips still couldn’t believe Hollander had committed treason. It just made no sense.
Harding swallowed. Phillips knew the man had questions, but he seemed to understand the delicacy of the matter.
Now he was on the phone. “What can I do for you, Henry?”
“I think you better come down. There’s something you’re going to want to see.”
Phillips took the elevator two floors down and found his way to the Engineering Department. Harding was waiting for him, so he didn’t need to swipe his key card. Harding led him into a conference room where an old transparency projector sat on the middle of the table. Phillips remembered transparency machines from his early days in marketing. He was surprised they were still in use. Well, maybe not. It was a well-known fact that engineers used the most advanced technology in some areas, but still wore pocket protectors and used obsolete technology in others.
Harding had rolled up his sleeves, and he was pale, as if he hadn’t seen daylight in weeks. Then again, he probably hadn’t. Like most of the other Delcroft engineers, Harding was a workaholic. He looked wrung out, and his posture was stooped. But behind the weary appearance was a keen mind with sharp analytical skills. Harding leaned over the projector and snapped it on. An image of two documents side by side lit the screen.
“Take a look at these. They’re both diagrams of the navigation system for DADES.”
Phillips frowned at the images. “What am I looking for?”
“Do you see any difference between them?”
Phillips wasn’t an engineer. He’d barely passed basic physics at Yale. He shook his head. “They look identical to me.”
“Look on the right side of each diagram.” Harding turned on a laser pointer. “See the connections and wiring?”
Now that Harding pointed them out, Phillips looked more carefully. “They’re different. One has wires going to one box, the other to that rotating thing, whatever it is.”
“Exactly. Now look at these.” Harding slapped two new images on the machine and used the pointer to circle the area on which Phillips should concentrate.
“They’re different too. Subtle but different.”
Harding nodded.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Harding smiled. “Yes. The one on the left is the real deal. Straight from the vault. The one on the right is what Hollander sent to Gao through Parks. Somehow, it’s been adulterated. Changed. It won’t work worth a damn.”
Phillips’ jaw dropped, his mouth agape. Then he started to laugh so long and hard that Harding looked bewildered. The engineer probably thought Phillips had lost his mind. But Phillips couldn’t bring himself to stop.