The Mediterranean
The cold air whipped at her hair as Betty gazed out into the water over the bow of the ship. She leaned against the railing and gripped her small suitcase believing they would not find her out here but she knew they really could. The only thing positive was that there were no trees or buildings nearby for snipers to hunt for her, which for now was a good thing and helped ease her exhausted nerves.
She watched the sea water go by for a few minutes and then turned around and let her back press against the railing. She was certain that no one had followed her to the boat dock or paid any particular attention when she boarded. She turned her head to see the island structure of the small transport ferry. Two people were behind the window busy driving the ship. Her eyes followed upward to the top of the structure where antennae and other devices were attached. One flat, rectangular piece was rotating in a circle. Perhaps a sniper could be up there, maybe hiding behind that turning contraption with his sights on her, waiting for the perfect kill shot. She turned back around and gazed into the water. I’m going to drive myself insane worrying about like this.
After a while, she decided that she had had enough ocean air and walked back into the passenger section. She entered the main seating area and looked for an empty seat. A row of seats lined the windows on both sides and about thirty half-filled benches were in the center. The passengers appeared to be routine travelers napping or reading the paper. Not a single head lifted to watch her, which was how she liked it. She spotted three empty seats by the window to her left. She sat down on the middle seat and looked out the window, hoping that no one would sit next to her. After a few minutes, she placed the briefcase on her lap, flipped up the lock, and opened it. She did the best she could to control her nerves as she placed her hands to the side. Her intention was for anyone around her who noticed, they would think she was just getting some work done between trips. In reality, she could be carrying a large stash of gold worth a billion pounds, or the secrets to the Vatican files that every spy would kill to get their hands on. Rubbish, she thought.
She turned on the computer and waited for it to boot up. She casually glanced around to be sure no one was watching before she pulled up the Vatican file. She scrolled through the file and before she began decoding it, she double-checked that her system was fully insulated from outside signals. Her program, once turned on, would be automatically detected, but her software was designed to prevent that. She waited a few minutes to be sure there were no random signals strong enough to penetrate her software security. You can’t be safe enough, she thought. Once she confirmed that her security system worked as it should, she tapped the key to begin the arduous task of deciphering what she stole. The MI-6 agents were friends of hers and risked their lives getting this information, so it had better be worth it. They had located the highest level of the internal communication system high Vatican officials used. That was where she believed the secrets were, and now she was going to find out.
Once the file transferred in, Betty had to recheck that there were no imbedded ‘self-destruct’ messages. They were difficult, if not impossible, to find, so instead of transferring the entire file into the translation program all at once, she decided to input small amounts at a time to be safe. The question was, how to do it? She scrolled back to the top of the file and began sifting through line by line. Each code began with a series of numbers she quickly deciphered as the dates the messages were sent or created.
That was the easy part, so she decided to... suddenly her concentration was broken as she sensed someone standing next to her. She froze, felt her heart stop, and slowly looked up. A large man holding a small metal box was standing there, looking at her.
The man spoke a few words with sternness in his voice. She began to shake and felt her eyes water up; her breath caught. I’ve been discovered.
The man then pulled a piece of paper out of the small box and handed it to her. It was an official piece of paper, and after looking at it, she breathed, relaxed, and said thank you. The man repeated the words and appeared irritated as if she was holding him up. She glanced at the small piece of paper and figured it was some type of immigration document. She quickly signed and dated the bottom and handed it back. The man walked off.
Betty immediately glanced out the window to calm her nerves. She did not even notice that a storm had built up while she was working on the file. Waves with whitecaps were splashing fine mist onto the window. She swallowed hard and refocused back to her computer.
A strategy occurred to her: Search for the dated files that were close to the actual date the bomb was dropped in Iraq exposing the ancient city. That only made sense...except, what if Jess Contreras was involved earlier than that? If so, how much earlier? She decided to scroll to the closest date to the bombing, back up about two weeks, and input the files into the program software. That would be a good starting point. She hit the decode icon, and sat back. Decoding a complicated Vatican text could take some time for the software to work its way through all the cyber booby traps. How long exactly, she did not know.
Glancing out the window, Betty observed the waves go by as the ship continued its northward course to her next escape route. The subtle waves going about reminded her of the days when she was an anthropology professor. She smiled as she reflected how her life had changed since the accident.
Teaching at Oxford was her only dream in life and she had achieved it at a time when women simply were not allowed to be professors. Well, maybe if she had remained a fixture of the low-level faculty she would have never met and fallen in love with Ari. She felt her heart fill up and release a heavy beat in her chest at the thought of him. She felt sad but just as quickly happy at the memory of his face when they first met. Her reflection in the misty window and the single tear rolling slowly down her cheek gave it away. She missed him.
Betty found herself smiling again as the memories came flooding back— which is all she had of him. He was only a twenty-five-year-old exchange student from Israel when he walked into her class for the first time. Of course, she was much older and naturally assumed he would not notice her as she did him. Somehow, he did, and their fifteen-year difference in age did not get in the way. She always thought it would— especially when she gave up her life in academia so they could make another life together in Israel—but it never did.
They did not marry but when their baby girl was born with his deep brown eyes, it no longer mattered to her. The baby was not even eight months old when a terrorist bomb exploded in Tel Aviv, killing Ari and their daughter.
Betty gazed into her own reflection as the distant memories continued to wash over her. She could almost see the faded scars on her face in the window. Sometimes she noticed and sometimes she did not, although the hearing loss in her left ear often forced the memories onto her. Since then and up to now, Betty had played it quiet and watchful. She never revealed anything of her past to anyone. She remained very vague about her life before—before British Intelligence. Although she did her job well, she always carried the pain of her loss like an unending river flowing deep within her. That was the passion that was now driving her to help save the world from evil. Pouring herself deep into her work was a release and a distraction, as well as a force behind her own private mission.
Betty had only two trusted friends since her university days: Ed Collins and Alex Pike, and she deeply loved both of them. They were the ones who knew her story and had helped her in the lonely months afterward. In a way, they had restored meaning to her life and... she noticed herself smiling in the window, they also taught her to master the game of poker!
Betty gave her computer about two hours of decoding before she took a look at the text filtering through the system. She carefully read it over and determined that what was before her was good enough to conclude that deciphering the Vatican code had been successful. Pleased with that and doing her best not to show it, she looked for passages that seemed to fit with the current crisis. There were many messages that were back-and-forth communications of the clergy discussing Christians attacking Muslims and Muslims attacking Christians and what to do about it. As she read, it appeared that the communications were primarily the official stance of the Roman Catholic Church on the matter and it was redundant.
Line by line, she continued digging into the secret Vatican communications when suddenly one completely stood out. She read it over and at the second sentence she felt a chill run down her spine. She was now looking at the fragmented message she sent to Ed before she escaped Casablanca. It was a reference to Alex Pike! Could he be alive? As she read further, she concluded that he had to be! Was he being held captive and being interrogated? If so, something was not adding up. Most of the messages were general communications from Vatican officials and parts of them were...suddenly she realized what it was. She had not only broken into the secret Vatican communications system but also had cracked into another system that was even more secret. It did not appear to be a Vatican system.
She pulled her hands back and cracked her knuckles. This was exactly the type of challenge that she loved. Where were these other messages from? She glanced at the time, determining that she now had to answer that question before the boat docked.