No Place Like Rome

by Julie Moffett

  “Tito.”

  I rose from my chair as Slash opened the door. I waved at him. “Hey, Tito. Great to see you again.”

  He walked in carrying a small black duffel bag. “Glad you are still alive, my friends.”

  I patted my stomach. “Yeah, and at least twenty pounds heavier after all this amazing Italian food.”

  “I’ve arranged to have a few days off.”

  Slash nodded. “Good. We could use your help.”

  He sat on the couch and Slash and I quickly brought him up to speed on the latest events. He stopped us a few times and asked for clarification. Slash obliged, explaining it in German. At some point, I told him about the Zimmerman twins and Basia, who would be arriving within the next twelve hours or so to supplement the team.

  Slash put Tito to work discovering whatever he could about the pharmaceutical giant Maisto while Slash and I resumed our efforts to crack the file. Hours flew past and at some point, we broke for a few hours of sleep. I don’t think any of us slept well. I dreamt of numbers and code. After I awoke, I planted myself back in front of the computer to continuing my cracking. I didn’t look up from the monitor until Slash’s cell rang, shattering my concentration. He rose from his spot, stretching as he answered it.

  He listened, said something in Italian and then tossed his phone back on the table. “They’re here.”

  I looked up. “As in, Italy?”

  “As in, downstairs.”

  Minutes later, Basia, Elvis, Xavier and I were hugging and high-fiving each other. We introduced them to Tito and Basia eyed him appreciatively. Jeez. I hoped Xavier didn’t notice. Basia and Xavier were sort of dating, but they were not exclusive. Well, by they I mean Basia. She was a bit of a free spirit and in no way ready to settle down with anyone yet, even in a dating mode.

  Now she stood on the balcony, listening to the sound of the ocean. “God, I love Italy.” She looked pretty in black leggings, a pink sweater and dangly pink earrings. Her short dark hair was perfectly combed and her eyes were bright and sparkling. She didn’t look remotely jet-lagged or tired. It didn’t seem fair.

  “Slash, that was the most incredible flight I’ve ever been on.” She bounced back into the room. “The champagne was beyond exquisite.”

  Slash dipped his head. “I hope the trip was not too tiring. I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

  “Anytime. Really.”

  Elvis was already examining our computer set up. “Where can we add our stuff?”

  I spread my arms. “Wherever you want.”

  I didn’t bother to ask them if they wanted to rest first. Geeks are geeks. I understood them perfectly. They were more than just a little bit excited to confront a challenge that neither Slash nor I could conquer yet.

  Elvis and Xavier began unpacking their stuff and hooking it up to ours. Basia brought her stuff into my room and started unpacking. At some point we had to bring another desk out from one of the suites to add to our computer nerve center. After it was all said and done, I’m pretty sure we had enough equipment to launch a nuclear missile. Xavier had brought along a portable a/c unit and aimed it at one cluster. Elvis had set up the other cluster and Slash linked the three of them together. Whatever was in that file would be ours within a few hours.

  Basia stretched out on the couch and quickly fell asleep, her face smashed into one of the cushions. I don’t know how she did it, but she looked beautiful and delicate even in sleep. Xavier covered her with a blanket. He really liked her. I didn’t understand their relationship or know how Xavier dealt with her free spirit or fathom how Basia juggled more than one man. I had enough social problems on my own plate to worry too much about it. I liked Xavier a lot, so I hoped it all worked out or at the very least, no one got too hurt.

  I caught the twins up on all the latest developments and after a heated hacking strategy discussion, we decided that three of us would attack the encrypted file at the same time, each of us seeking penetration at a different angle. The fourth person would monitor the clusters and rotate in when one of us got tired. Tito would continue his background search on Maisto and James Rutgon’s connection to them.

  Elvis, Slash and I took the first rotation. We sat in front of the computers with me in the middle. Xavier monitored the other clusters. For the most part, we worked in silence, but every now and then Slash glanced at Elvis and Elvis glanced at Slash. Not at the screen, but at each other’s face. No one looked at me at all.

  We worked for hours, rotating the terminals between us. Xavier sat in for Elvis, Elvis relieved me, and I gave Slash a break. Tito lasted until about one in the morning and then he crashed in Slash’s suite. I managed to stay awake on sheer adrenaline. The twins and Slash were operating on the same biophysical high. There was nothing more thrilling in the world for a geek than a seemingly insurmountable hack because we all knew that nothing was insurmountable. It was a game of matching wits, skill and sheer persistence.

  When she awoke, Basia provided us with coffee and breakfast. None of us wanted to take a break yet. We still hadn’t cracked the file, but we were making progress. Damn good progress. I’d just sat down in the chair Xavier had vacated when Elvis sat up straight.

  “Hello. I’ve got entry, people.”

  Slash stopped typing and leaned over, almost on top of me. His five o’clock shadow had moved into beard territory, but his dark eyes gleamed excitedly. Xavier, Basia and Tito crowded behind Elvis’s chair.

  “How?” Slash asked.

  “Buffer overflow.”

  “Optimum,” breathed Xavier.

  “What’s a buffer overflow?” Basia asked.

  I peered at Elvis’s screen. “He tricked the memory into dumping so he could inject a code that would permit him to perform a task at a higher level than he’s authorized. He just authorized himself in and apparently it worked.”

  “I’m in, but we don’t have the file yet,” Elvis warned.

  I shrugged. “It’s just a matter of time now.”

  Elvis’s hands flew across the screen, a lock of his dark hair falling across his forehead. Slash and I had abandoned our efforts and simply watched Elvis at work. I understood only about half of what he was doing. Slash understood a lot more because he offered advice a few times when Elvis paused. Eventually Basia and Tito got bored and sat on the balcony sipping coffee and chatting.

  Two and half hours later Elvis finally said, “Bingo.”

  Xavier, Slash and I had stayed with Elvis, keeping him awake, helping him when he stalled. Still, when Elvis said it, I started in my chair and wondered if I’d been dozing with my eyes open.

  Elvis rose, glancing at Slash. “You have the honors, dude.” He switched chairs with Slash. “I don’t know what’s in there, but that was one hell of a hack and you and Lexi had already taken care of most of the legwork.”

  I gave Elvis a tired smile and he patted my shoulder. Tito and Basia joined us as we all leaned over to see what had been so expertly encrypted.

  Slash clicked and the screen filled with a large image.

  “A photo?” I said in surprise.

  Slash adjusted the image, scaling it down so we could better see it. “A photo of a painting.”

  “Quadro. The name of the file.”

  I squinted at it. A full-figured naked woman had her hands raised to the heavens while a white-bearded man frowned down at her from the sky. The sky looked as if it were on fire with angry slashes of red and purple. The woman sat on a rock in a forest, a blanket of colorful flowers spread artfully across her lap.

  Slash glanced over his shoulder. “Anyone recognize this?”

  Elvis shook his head. “No, but the style looks familiar. Renaissance period for sure.”

  “Agreed.” Slash kept refining the picture, making it smaller, easier to view.

 
Xavier peered closer. “Is the artist’s name on the painting?”

  Slash did a cursory glance and then magnified the image to search all the corners. “I don’t see anything.”

  Apparently my education was lacking in the fine arts department. “What does it mean?”

  Slash shook his head. “I’m not sure yet. We need to go hunting in some art databases and see if we can locate this painting.”

  “If it’s from the secret Vatican archives, will it be in a database?”

  “Probably not. But we have to eliminate the possibility.”

  Crankiness reared its ugly head. This is what we hacked for numerous days and hours? A freaking painting?

  I let out a big huff. “So, why would a painting be in a secret archive in the first place? Art is art. Shouldn’t it be on display somewhere?”

  “Obviously we can’t know the answer to that at this point.”

  Elvis rolled his neck. “Well, at the least we might be able to determine the painter if we can pinpoint similar paintings or specific techniques.”

  I should have thought of that and I wanted to mull more on it, but my brain was on complete shutdown. The exhilaration of the hack had passed. I looked around and saw bleary eyes, mussed hair and gray pallor. We all needed to sleep and refresh our minds.

  I decided to be the bigger man and fold first. “We need to sleep. Now. Everyone.”

  Elvis rubbed his eyes. “Agreed.”

  Slash ran his fingers through his hair. I couldn’t remember seeing him so tired. “Si. I’m just going to start an automatic search in some databases and I’m finished.”

  We left Tito and Basia in charge of monitoring the database search. I dragged myself to the bathroom where I washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on my pajamas. I crawled in bed and pulled the sheet to my chin. I usually like to reflect on my day right before I go to sleep, but I closed my eyes and that’s the last thing I remembered.

  Chapter Ten

  Coffee. I smelled coffee. I rolled over, opened my eyes and took a moment to get oriented. Where the heck was I?

  Oh, yes. Italy. In a hotel in Sperlonga. We were working on an encrypted file...correction, we’d cracked an encrypted file only to find a photo of an old painting. Jeez. I almost got shot by a poison umbrella gun for that?

  I sat up and saw the bed was empty. I had no idea where Basia was and how long I’d slept. I jumped out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I ran my fingers through my hair. Barefoot, I wandered out to into the common room. Basia and Slash sat in front of the computers. Well, Basia sat sideways in the chair watching Slash, sipping coffee and looking as gorgeous and rested as if she’d just been to a spa. It wasn’t fair. She was supposed to be jet-lagged or at least have some circles under her eyes.

  Xavier, Elvis and Tito were nowhere to be found, presumably still asleep. Slash smiled at me when I came in and patted the chair next to him.

  “Good morning, cara.”

  “Is it morning?”

  Basia laughed. “Actually it’s about five in the afternoon. You guys went to bed at eight in the morning.”

  I smiled. “Hacker hours.”

  Slash smiled back as Basia handed me a cup of coffee. “Are you hungry, Lexi?”

  “I’m perpetually hungry in Italy.”

  “I’m not surprised. The food is terrific. I’m getting ready to go out and get something for us to munch on until dinner.”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  She grabbed her coat and headed out. I dared a sip of coffee and realized Basia had watered it down for me. Thank God for best friends.

  I studied Slash’s face. He’d showered, shaved and smelled really good. Again. “So, did you get any sleep?”

  “Some. I’ve been up for a bit studying the painting.”

  “Any stunning revelations?”

  “No hits in any of the main art databases. I think we can safely assume this is not a well-known painting. However, I may have narrowed the list of potential artists. It’s likely a protégé of Leonardo da Vinci.”

  “But not Leonardo himself?”

  “I don’t think so. Da Vinci’s paintings are all very distinct because he used a technique called velature. He didn’t mix colors on the palette like most artists of his time. Instead he painted by applying layers of paint on top of each other to create a special kind of texture and depth of color.”

  I learned something new every day when I hung around geek guys. “Cool. His protégés didn’t do this?”

  “Apparently it was a difficult technique to do well. All his protégés used it to one extent or another...but very sparingly.”

  “I take that to mean this painting shows evidence of velature, just not an expertise using the technique.”

  “Si.”

  I sipped my coffee and thought it over. “Okay. I’m still not sure how that ties into anything.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” He tapped on the screen. “Whatever we need to know is right here somewhere. This is a pure digital copy of the real painting, taken with a special camera. Presumably this is to protect the painting from forgers or thieves and also to assure it could be repaired to its exact genuine state if damaged in any way.”

  “And that’s important because...?”

  “With a special photograph like this, someone could study the painting down to the tiniest of pixels.”

  I ventured a guess. “And make a really good hi-tech forgery.”

  “Si. But ultimately it would not fool the experts. Not with the technology these days. So, I don’t think we should head down that path.”

  I sighed, frustrated. Frankly, it had been a real letdown to see what was in the file. Plus my knowledge of art was less than stellar and I felt adrift without something to hack or calculate.

  Perhaps sensing my disappointment, Slash put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. “There’s got to be something else here, cara. I just feel it. It’s in the secret archives for a reason. I’m just not getting the forgery vibe.”

  There was a noise behind us. “Just what vibe are you getting?”

  Elvis stood there in a white undershirt and a pair of jeans. He was barefoot like me and his dark hair stood straight up as if he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He had dark rings under his eyes and I realized how tired he must be after flying all day and then working all night.

  Slash released my hand and stood. “Good morning, my friend.”

  Elvis didn’t look happy. I guess jet lag wasn’t agreeing with him.

  I picked up my coffee cup. “We’ve got some news. Slash narrowed down the list of potential artists. They are da Vinci’s protégés. Apparently this is a special photograph taken with a special camera that permits us to see every little pixel of the painting if we want.”

  “Why would we want to?”

  “Maybe there is something useful there for us to see.”

  Slash nodded. “I’ve already taken a cursory look, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.”

  Elvis sat in the chair next to me. “Let me take a look.”

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Sure. Milk and sugar. Lots of it.”

  We were two peas in a pod. I poured coffee in a mug, adding a generous amount of milk and sugar. Elvis took a sip and winced. There you have it. Americans and Italian coffee just don’t go together. No further experimentation necessary.

  I scooted my chair closer to his. “I’ll take a look with you. The more eyes the better.”

  “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.” Slash rea
ched over Elvis and typed some commands. “There. I’ve made copies of the file. I’ll send them out to the other laptops and we can all take a look at it from our own terminals and from different angles. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  For a moment, Elvis met Slash’s eyes, but no one said anything as I moved my chair back to my terminal and started to study my copy of the photograph.

  By the time Basia arrived with food and fresh coffee, Tito and Xavier were both up and sitting in front of laptops, examining the painting. I made a station for Basia, too. She complained she didn’t know what she was looking for, but I told her to examine the picture as a whole. Maybe the way the woman sat or the way the guy from the sky looked at her was some kind of secret message. The alignment of the trees or the scratches on the rock could be significant. She rolled her eyes, but really did put in a lot of effort despite playing footsies with Xavier.

  Three hours later my eyesight had started to swim from looking at all the pixels. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. I’ve eliminated the dark pixels, the light pixels, the blue, green and red pixels, separately and in succession, blacked out the background, overexposed the background, and gone over every freaking inch of this painting. Nada.”

  Basia stood and stretched her hands over her head. “I’ve got nothing, too. Nothing seems suspect or as if it’s conveying a message. Truthfully, I don’t even know what I’m looking for. It’s worse than looking for a needle in a haystack because, at least in that case, I know I’m looking for a needle.”

  Tito sighed. “I’m with both of them. Nichts.”

  Elvis rolled his neck. “I played with differing degrees of focus but didn’t see anything interesting. I reduced and then enlarged the face, the body, the sky, the flowers, the trees, the rock and her breasts. There’s nothing there I can see.”

  Xavier snickered when Elvis said breasts.