Stratford sat straight and put the telephone on speaker.
“I have just had a look at Votilio's iPod. What is that all about?” His voice sounded excited but in disbelief.
Stratford answered whispering, almost conspiratorial: “Pieter, listen, something strange is going on. I start to understand why there has been such an increased security over the past months. If those documents are real, and if I get it right, than we are heading for a downright catastrophe. “
“You say it, how can we be certain that all of this is true? Maybe one or another idio...”
Stratford interrupted Pieter sharply. “Listen, somebody died over this. Somebody got shot. This is not some lame joke. Believe me, this is very real.”
“Well, in any case I am impressed that you have been able to detect this. The files were hidden professionally on the hard drive.” There was some silence. “What do I need to do now, Jonathan? How are we going to tell this to the world? You are the best person to stop this nonsense, now that you still can.”
“Look, I am being watched here by everyone and you know that all of our communications get screened. Why do you think that Votilio wanted to smuggle that information on an iPod in stead of just mailing it as an attachment? You are dealing here with an American base at the highest level of security. Even during the cold war the restrictions were not so severe. All mails need to pass an advanced data loss protection system that picks up any anomaly. No, you need to bring this into the open. If I use the military channels nobody will ever get informed. It will be intercepted and somehow it will sink into oblivion. And I will sink to the bottom of the ocean. I am sorry Pieter that I am involving you, but I need your help. I am counting on you to bring this to the outside world.”
“Sure, I will mail it to my contacts. They can...”
Again the nervous Stratford interrupted him. “Do you really believe that your messages are not screened? Via which satellite do you think you can chat and mail with those contacts? I am afraid you will need to find a way to take the information personally out of here.”
Pieter hesitated: “well, yes, we have been able to bring in the Port of Call. On the engine I can reach Mauritius. From there I can get away.”
“One moment, Pieter, somebody is knocking on my door. I am expecting Oona. She is the only one whom I can still trust here on the base. Stay on the phone.”
Pieter could hear a door being opened followed by Jonathan's voice saying: “come in Oona. I just have Pieter on the line and... what are you doing?”
Pieter grew rigid with fear when he heard two unmistakeable shots, followed by a vague thumping upon which the connection was terminated.
From the first moment they met, Bramaud disliked Stratford. And he knew it was reciprocal. He did not often have it, that unfounded feeling very close to hatred. From time to time he had stepped back and tried to make a neutral analysis why he had such a dislike for the man. But he had never identified a cause. It would never be fine between them. And in the current circumstances Bramaud knew that that predicted bad news.
“And, everything goes according to plan?” Bramaud picked up the two shells from the floor.
Jonathan smiled blandly. He knew he was not going to be able to trust Bramaud when push came to shove and that he meant trouble sooner or later. Problems he could certainly miss at this crucial stage of the Abacus project. Unfortunately he needed Bramaud for now.
“Why don't you do the necessary to start a search operation for Pieter the next couple of hours. He will take the Port of Call to Mauritius. Make sure he never arrives.”
Bramaud looked at him suspiciously; this was not according to the plan. Jonathan sighed irritated. “Trust me; I know what I am doing. Blow that ship once and for all out of the water. It should have gone down in the first place. But I think it serves us well now.”
“And what if the two girls are also on board?” He tried to throw in.
“Unlikely. I am sure that Pieter has left them behind. But if so, they are irrelevant to our mission. They just happened to be in the wrong time at the wrong place. Too bad for them, but these things happen.” Jonathan turned around and left the sound-proof meeting room where he and Bramaud had spent time earlier that day with Votilio's iPod. This time he walked down the stairs to the computer room. He looked at his watch which showed seven minutes past midnight. Despite the hour all seats on the large circular floor were occupied. The room was filled with the muffled voices of people talking into their headset microphones.
Jonathan went straight to the desk of one of the people talking like that and tapped him on the shoulder, giving a sign that he had to interrupt whatever he was doing. The man startled for a moment and when he saw it was Stratford he quickly made an end to his conversation.
“Yes Sir?”
“Can you ensure that all connections to and from Egmont are blocked. Every computer, telephone, radio or pigeon must be severed. I want that island completely isolated.”
The man called up an application and cunningly typed in commands. He nodded to Stratford as a sign the shut down of the communication was completed.
“Well Pieter, I am curious whether you will live up to my expectations,” Jonathan thought.