01-04-2019, 11:47 AM
Helena stopped to think as she looked at the corner of the screen, then turned to Troy.
"How're you guys on the Ultimados' wi-fi?"
Susan stepped forward and raised her hand.
"That was me. Sorry."
Helena shook her head and went back to the search bar.
"Never mind. Perfect. I presume you've only shared it with your friends, so it's still secure for our purposes. But there's only one way that Yorkshire could possibly do all that. One reason he'd put all his faith in this hunk of trash!"
Contessa Helena de San Finzione flipped the burner over in her right hand to look at the brand and began typing with her left hand, turning back toward the group as she typed and gesturing for Mander to hand her the file with her right. The gesture forced her shoulder to make her glad that she'd saved some painkillers; she'd feel it and need one once the adrenaline died away. But not yet.
He gave it to her. She opened the file and speed-read one of the reports. She got to Jimenez's personal effects.
"It was a different color scheme, but the same model. That's how I missed it. How do you know with 100% certainty that the call will go through? How do you reroute a call via Mars without NASA noticing?"
She turned the phone over and held it out for them to see. They saw the back of the phone and the brand on it: Whyte Telecom, on the back.
"You OWN the fucking PHONE COMPANY, THAT'S how you do it!"
"How're you guys on the Ultimados' wi-fi?"
Susan stepped forward and raised her hand.
"That was me. Sorry."
Helena shook her head and went back to the search bar.
"Never mind. Perfect. I presume you've only shared it with your friends, so it's still secure for our purposes. But there's only one way that Yorkshire could possibly do all that. One reason he'd put all his faith in this hunk of trash!"
Contessa Helena de San Finzione flipped the burner over in her right hand to look at the brand and began typing with her left hand, turning back toward the group as she typed and gesturing for Mander to hand her the file with her right. The gesture forced her shoulder to make her glad that she'd saved some painkillers; she'd feel it and need one once the adrenaline died away. But not yet.
He gave it to her. She opened the file and speed-read one of the reports. She got to Jimenez's personal effects.
"It was a different color scheme, but the same model. That's how I missed it. How do you know with 100% certainty that the call will go through? How do you reroute a call via Mars without NASA noticing?"
She turned the phone over and held it out for them to see. They saw the back of the phone and the brand on it: Whyte Telecom, on the back.
"You OWN the fucking PHONE COMPANY, THAT'S how you do it!"
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