| (Author's Note: This next italicized parts
are from the script of the movie "Sneakers" and is copyrighted to Universal
Studios)
CREASE: (whispering) Try director of
ops.
BISHOP: Uhm, National Security Agency,
director of operations please.
OPERATOR: What extension, please?
BISHOP: Uhm, sorry, I forget the number.
Uh, could I please have director of operations? It's very important.
OPERATOR: What extension, please?
CREASE: (whispering) Try research.
BISHOP: Give me research. It's an emergency.
OPERATOR: I need an extension or a name.
BISHOP: Setec Astronomy.
The Operator is silent for a few seconds. Her
tone of voice changes dramatically.
OPERATOR: One moment, please. A link
on Whistler:'s phone connection display blinks. Weird noises in
his headset signal him.
WHISTLER: They've started the trace.
A deep-voiced man comes on the line.
ABBOT: (on phone) Who is this, please?
BISHOP: It's my dime, I'll ask the questions.
Who are you?
ABBOT: Well, let's say my name is...
Mr. Abbot.
Mother's lie-detecting pen register wavers
a little.
MOTHER: (whispering) True.
WHISTLER: They've made the second leg!
Another link on Whistler's display blinks.
BISHOP: Mr. Abbot, are you interested
in Setec Astronomy?
ABBOT: I'm interested in all kinds of
astronomy.
Mother's pen register wiggles a little bit.
MOTHER: (nodding) Yup.
BISHOP: Cute.
WHISTLER: They've got the satellite
and Tokyo. These guys are good!
Whistler, having said that, then shudders. If
this strange woman in the forestry outfit hadn't insisted on using
on MORE relays and satellites than had originally been planned.....
Meanwhile, Inquirer and the others are also rather....impressed....at
the skill and speed that the trace is being conducted. If not for the number
of relays and satellites.....the trace would have already have found them!
BISHOP: I need to know if you're
someone who can make a deal.
ABBOT: Go on.
BISHOP: Can you deal?
ABBOT: Yes!
MOTHER and CARL: (in unison) True.
Another link on Whistler's display blinks.
WHISTLER: They're across Transcom, you've
got about twenty seconds, Bish!
The Doctor makes an annoyed sound and rolls his
eyes as do several others of the Doctor's group.
"That cut it...." he mutters to himself.
Inquirer nods in agreement and pulls then pulls
out that one piece of electronic equipment that she'd been so hot on getting
on this trip. The Sneakers are too engrossed in the conversation on the
phone to notice.
BISHOP: If I come in with what
I know, can you guarantee my safety?
ABBOT: Do you have the item?
Crease shakes his head and mouths "No."
BISHOP: No.
WHISTLER: Fifteen seconds!
BISHOP: Can you guarantee my safety?
ABBOT: Where is the item?
BISHOP: Can you guarantee my safety?
WHISTLER: Five seconds!
ABBOT: Yes, I can guarantee your safety.
The pen register goes crazy.
MOTHER: Bish, he's lying!
WHISTLER: Hang up, they've almost got
us!
MOTHER: (excitedly) He's lying!
WHISTLER: Hang up, Bish!
MOTHER: He's lying, he's lying!
WHISTLER: Hang up!
Inquirer then places the XL-240 auto dialer, a
neat little device that supposedly is able to automatically dial a stored
phone number, up to the speakerphone and pushes a button. The creators
of this device wanted it to replicate the tones produced by a phone
user pushing a number. The user wouldn't even have to touch the dial pad
of the phone to call a friend. But....the device in reality just made a
high pitched tone that only equipment, dogs (and people with special hearing)
could hear. Billed as a failure, years later it was discovered that the
tone had a particular effect....on telephone line trace equipment.....
-
 Tecnicians
back at NSA shout in surprise as their trace equipment suddenly locks up
and drops the trace. Whistler then turns around with a strange look on
his face......
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