Killing Time
"So what could--?"
"Gideon, I told you--wait with the questions. Now--" He walked
purposefully back over to his main bank of computers. "It took me
a while, but I finally busted Price's encryption of the second
batch of information on the disc--though why he worked so hard to
hide this is beyond me..."
Touching a keypad, Max called up an image on his main screen: an
old piece of grainy film, a glimpse of what appeared to be--of
what, I soon realized, in fact was--a German concentration camp
from the mid-20th century. There was a shot of some starving,
laboring prisoners, a pan off to some SS officers, and then a
further pan to reveal...a silhouette. A grayish human
silhouette, moving, yes, but as unidentifiable as the similar
blank spot in the second of the three versions of the Forrester
assassination we'd seen had been.
"O.K.," Max said, watching my dumb-struck face. "Now you can ask
questions."
I took a deep breath. "Auschwitz?" I mumbled.
"Good call, Professor," Max answered. "I downloaded some matching
footage half an hour ago. It's pretty stock stuff. Except for the
mystery guest, there."
I kept staring at the silhouette. "Something about that general
outline looks familiar," I mused. "There. When he turns in
profile..."
"O.K. So maybe then you can tell me how this connects to some
hairs from a guy who's already in prison and some kind of
supergun that apparently turned John Price into so much jelly
without making a sound."
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