Programmed for Peril

checking, Tran.’ She told him what she was trying to do. “How does the code look?”
    “Don’t know. Look good? Maybe so.”
    Two minutes.
    She groaned. She saw she had to include an additional statement! Even as she groped for its correct structure she promised herself that Nicholas and Lois would pay heavily for making her go through this little exercise, whether she was successful or not.
    “Do you need bracket there?” Tran’s long finger jabbed at the screen.
    She stared. “No... I don’t think so. No time to explain.” She finished typing. “Come on, Tran. Look it over with me. See anything wrong?”
    He made a noise much like a tiny whimper. “Maybe... here.” Finger on the screen again. His version of two lines of code emerged in a rushed whisper. As he spoke her eyes were drawn to the jagged scar crossing his neck and face. Oh, Lord, he was right!
    She glanced at her watch. Less than a minute. Type very carefully, she told herself. “Give it to me again.” She keyed in the alphanumerics. “Make sure I got it right, Tran.”
    “Okay now.”
    She reached out a shaking hand toward the power switch. Only when she restarted would she know if they had been successful. Ten seconds on her watch, and it could be inaccurate. She flipped the switch. The screen darkened.
    She leaned on the desk and pressed her face into spread palms. “Tran... I can’t take more of this stuff. If we screwed up, all our files are history. We can’t do business.”
    “Who do this to us?”
    “I know who. And whether or not they wiped us out, they’re going to pay—big time!”
    Tran grunted. “Got to reboot, Trish. See soon what happen.”
    Trish stared at the surge protector toggle switch for a long ®oment. She nodded to Tran. “Go ahead. Do the honors.” Tran flipped the switch, and the PC whirred and clicked 10 life. Trish bit her teeth, waiting. She sensed Tran’s tension. She gasped. Another screen message!
     
CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ESCAPED THIS TIME. BUT THE FUN IS HEREBY ENDED. IF YOUR WEDDING ISN'T CANCELLED, FAR WORSE THINGS WILL BEGIN TO HAPPENNOT ONLY TO PC-PROS, BUT TO YOU. NO MORE WARN!NGS WILL BE ISSUED.
     
    Staring at the yellow letters, she felt a wash of fear. The familiar Delphi code and now the peculiar sensation of dread made her think momentarily of... Carson. But he was far away, had no idea where she was or what she was doing.
    Much closer and more hysterical were Lois and her loony brother. Well, she had warned them both. She wasn’t a bluffer. She thanked Tran and suggested he say nothing about the threat to PC-Pros to the staff. He said he wouldn’t. She could trust him. No one was more close-mouthed than Tran. She dialed Michelle and told her to arrange for off-site file storage both in another company’s computer and in a safe somewhere. Tran would make the backup tapes for her. She went to the ladies room and washed her face. She leaned against the sink and took several deep, heaving breaths. Coding under that kind of pressure shouldn’t happen to anyone.
    She looked up at herself in the mirror. Oh, my, see the thin lines bracketing her mouth! Where had they come from? Or had they been there waiting for stress to deepen their etching? Across her brow familiar shadowed wrinkles were a shade more pronounced. Seeing the unhappy effects of the events of the last two weeks on her appearance only hardened her determination.
    She marched back to her office and picked up the phone, intending to call the police. Then she hesitated. Getting the law to act would be a ponderous task. Worse, even her knowing who her tormentors were wouldn’t be enough for the men in blue. She would be accusing a prestigious family-Police liked evidence. She knew she had none—not the hard kind that they could measure, count, tag, and store. Nonetheless she was certain!
    She put down the phone and paced her office. How to reach Lois, and through her Nicholas? How to make her listen?
    She found the answer but didn’t like it all that much.
    She got into her Acura. Driving over to Foster’s kennels, she heard her mother’s voice: Nothing you do now should disturb Foster.... Under normal circumstances, maybe she would be right. Even in her state of growing stress Trish felt pronounced guilt at disregarding Marylou’s words of wisdom. For as long as she could remember, every act in living her own life was prefaced with battling free of her mother’s opinions and advice. Looking back, she saw she had