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Founded by President Truman at 12:01 A.M. on November 4, 1952, the NSA had been the most clandestine intelligence agency in the world for almost fifty years. The NSA’s seven-page inception doctrine laid out a very concise agenda: to protect U.S. government communications and to intercept the communications of foreign powers.
Their communications were usually encoded for secrecy in case they ended up in the wrong hands—which, thanks to COMINT, they usually did.
the NSA set out to build the impossible: the world’s first universal code-breaking machine.
It would derive its power not only from its staggering number of processors but also from new advances in quantum computing—
NSA. Now only one man outranked Commander Strathmore there—Director Leland Fontaine,
Her job for the last three years had been to fine-tune the most secret computer in the world; most of the programming that made TRANSLTR so fast was hers.
“Unless the computer guesses the correct key but just keeps guessing because it doesn’t realize it found the right key.”
Biggleman’s Safe was a hypothetical cryptography scenario in which a safe builder wrote blueprints for an unbreakable safe. He wanted to keep the blueprints a secret, so he built the safe and locked the blueprints inside.
Gauntlet—a series of powerful circuit-level gateways, packet filters, and disinfectant programs that scanned inbound files for computer viruses and potentially dangerous subroutines.
“Yeah. Apparently he forced it in this old guy’s face—like he was begging him to take it. Sounds like the old guy got a close look at it.”
The timing of the heart attack was so fortunate for the NSA that Tankado had assumed the NSA was responsible.
Strathmore’s eyes narrowed. “That’s odd. I spoke to him last night. I told him not to come in. He said nothing about switching shifts.”
Susan sat alone in the plush surroundings of Node 3. She nursed a lemon mist herb tea and awaited the return of her tracer.
I feel like we have to wait longer than she does just to see the results of this damn tracer.
The back door consisted of a few lines of cunning programming that Commander Strathmore had inserted into the algorithm.
The brilliant female cryptographer was a constant frustration to him.
We get it, everyone wants to bone her.
Susan relied on Strathmore too; he was her shelter in a world of power-hungry men, nurturing her career, protecting her, and, as he often joked, making all her dreams come true.
Like a crypto-sugar-daddy
TRACER ABORT? He quickly typed: YES. ARE YOU SURE? Again he typed: YES After a moment the computer beeped. TRACER ABORTED
Susan ignored the remark. “Governments should have the right to gather information that threatens the common good.”
She gets riled up so easy, it makes it easy for him to see through her.
Hale was young and naive.
Is he doe?
‘Who will guard the guards?’”
Who watches the Watchmen 😂😂
replica of a Salvador Dali hung nearby. “Fitting,” Becker groaned. Surrealism. I’m trapped in an absurd dream. He’d woken up that morning in his own bed but had somehow ended up in Spain breaking into a stranger’s hotel room on a quest for some magical ring.
She gazed out at the deserted Crypto floor and wished her terminal would beep. There was only silence.
How had she not figured out it wasn't even running??
It came from the world’s first computer—the Mark 1—a room-size maze of electromechanical circuits built in 1944 in a lab at Harvard University. The computer developed a glitch one day, and no one was able to locate the cause. After hours of searching, a lab assistant finally spotted the problem. It seemed a moth had landed on one of the computer’s circuit boards and shorted it out. From that moment on, computer glitches were referred to as bugs.
Completely irrelevant information
Susan knew she had only one choice—to send her tracer again.
Duh?
She wondered if maybe she’d hit the wrong sequence of keys by mistake.
She's a genius.
By some ironic stroke of fate, Tankado’s partner was right there under their noses.
Bet money she's jumping to conclusions.
“Commander,” she said insistently, “if I could just speak—”
How often women are muted.
As he passed the elevator, the doors slid open. There was a man inside. All Becker saw were thick wire-rim glasses. The man raised a handkerchief to blow his nose.
I like that he waited around long enough to catch a tail again.
Everyone knew that TRANSLTR and the NSA main databank were inextricably linked.
The EFF had gained strength, Fontaine had lost credibility with Congress, and worst of all, the agency had lost a lot of its anonymity.
Strathmore had a history of making reckless decisions without covering his tail.
“He’s lying,” Midge snapped. “I’ve been running these Crypto stats for two years. The data is never wrong.”
halfway down the long staircase, crouched, hiding in the shadows. The muscular frame was unmistakable. It was Greg Hale.
“If Strathmore’s not worried, I’m not worried.”
He really has no concern at all.
“You’re trusting feminine intuition over Jabba’s advanced degrees in anti-invasive programming?”
Another woman being dismissed. They call it "feminine intuition" instead of intuition based on her years of job knowledge.
When she looked back, David Becker was on the floor, holding his face, writhing in agony.
Are. You. Kidding.
There were things on his mind—things Susan Fletcher did not know about—things he had not told her and prayed he’d never have to.
The director he knew was a stickler for detail, for neatly tied packages. He always encouraged his staff to examine and clarify any inconsistencies in daily procedure, no matter how minute. And yet here he was, asking them to turn their backs on a very bizarre series of coincidences.
Strathmore had devised a plan… a plan Fontaine had no intention of interrupting.
Digital Fortress should not be stopped.”
the other party Strathmore had sent to Seville.
Strathmore sent David, but also someone else?
She found herself crushed in a familiar headlock, her face against Hale’s chest.
For someone who wants to be believed, he sure has assaulted her enough.
Hale’s arms tightened around Susan like a vise.
She's a genius and a leader and only being used as damsel in distress leverage.
Force a hand, the voice warned, and it will fight you. But convince a mind to think as you want it to think, and you have an ally.
The hangar was bare. Oh my God! Where’s the plane!
“It’s too hot! Maybe Hale was right about the aux power not pulling enough freon.”
If the data was correct, Tankado and his partner were the same person.
Ensei Tankado had created an imaginary insurance policy without ever having to trust another soul with his pass-key.
Strathmore bypassed Gauntlet!
All of Tankado’s hype about the unbreakable algorithm … auctioning off the pass-key—it was all an act, a charade.
Ndakota … Kado-tan … Oktadan … Tandoka … Her knees went weak.
Did it seriously take a genius that long
