The Lost Symbol Chapter 33-36

Part 33 Frameworks security master Mark Zoubianis was sinking further into his futon and glaring at the data on his PC screen. What the heck sort of address is this? His best hacking instruments were altogether ineffectual at breaking into the record or at exposing Trish's puzzling IP address. Ten minutes had passed, and Zoubianis' program was all the while beating ceaselessly futile at the system firewalls. They demonstrated little any desire for infiltration. No big surprise they're overpaying me. He was going to retool and attempt an alternate methodology when his telephone rang. Trish, for the wellbeing of Christ, I said I'd call you. He quieted the football match-up and replied. â€Å"Yeah?† â€Å"Is this Mark Zoubianis?† a man inquired. â€Å"At 357 Kingston Drive in Washington?† Zoubianis could hear other muted discussions out of sight. A phone salesperson during the end of the season games? It is safe to say that they are crazy? â€Å"Let me surmise, I won seven days in Anguilla?† â€Å"No,† the voice answered with no hint of amusingness. â€Å"This is frameworks security for the Central Intelligence Agency. We might want to know why you are endeavoring to hack one of our characterized databases?† Three stories over the Capitol Building's subbasement, in the fully open spaces of the guest place, security watch Nunez bolted the principle passage entryways as he did each night right now. As he headed back over the far reaching marble floors, he thought of the man in the military excess coat with the tattoos. I let him in. Nunez thought about whether he would have a vocation tomorrow. As he made a beeline for the elevator, an abrupt beating outwardly entryways made him turn. He squinted back toward the principle passageway and saw an old African American man outside, rapping on the glass with his open palm and motioning to be allowed in. Nunez shook his head and highlighted his watch. The man beat again and ventured into the light. He was perfectly wearing a blue suit and had short and tidy turning gray hair. Nunez's heartbeat stimulated. Oh my goodness. Indeed, even a ways off, Nunez now perceived who this man was. He rushed back to the passage and opened the entryway. â€Å"I'm sorry, sir. It would be ideal if you please come in.† Warren Bellamyâ€Architect of the Capitolâ€stepped over the limit and expressed gratitude toward Nunez with a courteous gesture. Bellamy was flexible and thin, with an erect stance and penetrating look that radiated the certainty of a man in full control of his environmental factors. For the last a quarter century, Bellamy had filled in as the manager of the U.S. Legislative hall. â€Å"May I help you, sir?† Nunez inquired. â€Å"Thank you, yes.† Bellamy articulated his words with fresh exactness. As a northeastern Ivy League graduate, his phrasing was so demanding he sounded practically British. â€Å"I've recently discovered that you had an occurrence here this evening.† He looked profoundly concerned. â€Å"Yes, sir. It wasâ€â€Å" â€Å"Where's Chief Anderson?† â€Å"Downstairs with Director Sato from the CIA's Office of Security.† Bellamy's eyes extended with concern. â€Å"The CIA is here?† â€Å"Yes, sir. Chief Sato showed up very quickly after the incident.† â€Å"Why?† Bellamy requested. Nunez shrugged. As though I would inquire? Bellamy walked legitimately toward the elevators. â€Å"Where are they?† â€Å"They just went to the lower levels.† Nunez hurried after him. Bellamy looked back with a look of concern. â€Å"Downstairs? Why?† â€Å"I don't generally knowâ€I simply heard it on my radio.† Bellamy was moving quicker at this point. â€Å"Take me to them right away.† â€Å"Yes, sir.† As the two men rushed over the open span, Nunez got a brief look at a huge brilliant ring on Bellamy's finger. Nunez pulled out his radio. â€Å"I'll caution the main that you're coming down.† â€Å"No.† Bellamy's eyes flashed hazardously. â€Å"I'd like to be unannounced.† Nunez had committed some large errors today around evening time, yet neglecting to alarm Chief Anderson that the Architect was presently in the structure would be his last. â€Å"Sir?† he stated, uncomfortable. â€Å"I figure Chief Anderson would preferâ€â€Å" â€Å"You know that I utilize Mr. Anderson?† Bellamy said. Nunez gestured. â€Å"Then I figure he would lean toward you comply with my wishes.† Part 34 Trish Dunne entered the SMSC hall and turned upward with shock. The visitor holding up here looked not at all like the standard scholarly, wool clad specialists who entered this buildingâ€those of human studies, oceanography, geography, and other logical fields. Very despite what might be expected, Dr. Abaddon glanced practically highborn in his perfectly custom fitted suit. He was tall, with a wide middle, all around tanned face, and totally brushed light hair that gave Trish the impression he was more acclimated with extravagances than to research facilities. â€Å"Dr. Abaddon, I presume?† Trish stated, broadening her hand. The man looked unsure, yet he took Trish's full deliver his wide palm. â€Å"I'm sorry. Also, you are?† â€Å"Trish Dunne,† she answered. â€Å"I'm Katherine's collaborator. She requested that I escort you back to her lab.† â€Å"Oh, I see.† The man grinned now. â€Å"Very ideal to meet you, Trish. My statements of regret in the event that I appeared to be befuddled. I was under the impression Katherine was here alone this evening.† He motioned a few doors down. â€Å"But I'm all yours. Lead the way.† In spite of the man's fast recuperation, Trish had seen the glimmer of disillusionment in his eyes. She presently presumed the thought process in Katherine's mystery prior about Dr. Abaddon. A sprouting sentiment, possibly? Katherine never talked about her public activity, however her guest was appealing and all around prepped, and albeit more youthful than Katherine, he unmistakably originated from her universe of riches and benefit. In any case, whatever Dr. Abaddon had envisioned today around evening time's visit may involve, Trish's quality didn't appear to be a piece of his arrangement. At the entryway's security checkpoint, a solitary watchman immediately pulled off his earphones, and Trish could hear the Redskins game booming. The gatekeeper put Dr. Abaddon through the standard guest routine of metal identifiers and transitory security identifications. â€Å"Who's winning?† Dr. Abaddon said approachably as he exhausted his pockets of a PDA, a few keys, and a cigarette lighter. â€Å"Skins by three,† the watchman stated, sounding anxious to get back. â€Å"Helluva game.† â€Å"Mr. Solomon will show up shortly,† Trish told the gatekeeper. â€Å"Would you please send him back to the lab once he arrives?† â€Å"Will do.† The watchman gave a grateful wink as they went through. â€Å"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll look busy.† Trish's remark had been to help the gatekeeper as well as to remind Dr. Abaddon that Trish was by all account not the only one barging in on his private night here with Katherine. â€Å"So how would you know Katherine?† Trish asked, looking up at the secretive visitor. Dr. Abaddon laughed. â€Å"Oh, it's a long story. We've been taking a shot at something together.† Comprehended, Trish thought. Not my concern. â€Å"This is an astounding facility,† Abaddon stated, looking around as they descended the monstrous passageway. â€Å"I've never really been here.† His vaporous tone was getting progressively amicable with each progression, and Trish saw he was effectively taking it all in. In the splendid lights of the corridor, she likewise saw that his face appeared as though he had a phony tan. Odd. In any case, as they explored the abandoned passages, Trish gave him a general summary of the SMSC's motivation and capacity, including the different cases and their substance. The guest looked dazzled. â€Å"Sounds like this spot has a fortune trove of inestimable curios. I would have expected gatekeepers posted everywhere.† â€Å"No need,† Trish stated, motioning to the line of fish-eye focal points coating the roof high above. â€Å"Security here is mechanized. Every last trace of this passage is recorded twenty-four/seven, and this passageway is the spine of the office. It's difficult to get to any of the rooms off this passageway without a key card and PIN number.† â€Å"Efficient utilization of cameras.† â€Å"Knock on wood, we've never had a burglary. Of course, this isn't the sort of gallery anybody would robâ€there's very little approach the bootleg market for terminated blossoms, Inuit kayaks, or goliath squid carcasses.† Dr. Abaddon laughed. â€Å"I assume you're right.† â€Å"Our greatest security danger is rodents and insects.† Trish clarified how the structure forestalled creepy crawly pervasions by freezing all SMSC decline and furthermore by a design highlight called a â€Å"dead zone†Ã¢â‚¬an cold compartment between twofold dividers, which encompassed the whole structure like a sheath. â€Å"Incredible,† Abaddon said. â€Å"So, where is Katherine and Peter's lab?† â€Å"Pod Five,† Trish said. â€Å"It's right toward the finish of this hallway.† Abaddon ended abruptly, turning on his right side, toward a little window. â€Å"My word! Will you take a gander at that!† Trish snickered. â€Å"Yeah, that is Pod Three. They call it Wet Pod.† â€Å"Wet?† Abaddon stated, face squeezed to the glass. â€Å"There are more than 3,000 gallons of fluid ethanol in there. Recall the mammoth squid body I referenced earlier?† â€Å"That's the squid?!† Dr. Abaddon abandoned the window immediately, his eyes wide. â€Å"It's huge!† â€Å"A female Architeuthis,† Trish said. â€Å"She's more than forty feet.† Dr. Abaddon, evidently enchanted by seeing the squid, appeared to be not able to pull his eyes from the glass. For a second, the developed man helped Trish to remember a young man at a pet-store window, wishing he could go in and see a doggy. After five seconds, he was all the while gazing longingly through the window. â€Å"Oka