Let's Dance

 303.

"Please tell me that Davis was wearing a wire," I add to the contretemps.

"He was, is, but the trouble started as soon as everyone was dismissed after dinner except for the big three; Sharkey, Goldson and Hartaugh. As soon as they settled in outside on the veranda for cigars and brandy, the electrical shit hit the surveillance fan. We lost everything," reports Drysdale as The Queen continues her damage control with a series of furious finger rhythms on the keyboard.

I scan the right-side monitor and see what looks like an x-ray image of three men sitting, smoking and engaged in animated conversation. I can barely see through the static and immediately admit that if this is the best video surveillance we have our mission has failed, completely, miserably and unacceptably.

"Can someone please explain to me what happened?" I implore as calmly as I am able.

"To me," Drysdale begins, "it looked like some type of mini EMP was detonated, although we saw no indication of it on the live feed. It caused a temporarily outage of everything on the entire floor, lasted about ten seconds, but enough to trip all the digital circuits," He looks at The Queen for verification adding, "Is that close?"

"Close enough, and all in the past tense, yes, we, as well as everyone else in the Hotel was impacted, I am trying to rebuild the program and get everything back up and running as…fast...as…I" She says without looking away from her emergency virtual triage response.

"Worse yet," adds Mustang, "we received what I believe is a coded message from Davis, indicating that Goldson admitted they had taken 'necessary precautions' to ensure their conversations would remain completely confidential. He says that the audio on his wire has most likely been compromised, but thinks that 'maybe' the video cam is still operating, he won't know for sure until a download and preview."

"Are they still on the veranda?" I ask.

"They were ten minutes ago, so I assume they are," Drysdale offers.

"We can't lose this folks, this is the whole ballgame, going down as we stumble around in the  dark; deaf, dumb and blind. Do we have another wire handy?" I ask with an obvious tone of urgency.

"Yes, what have you got in mind?" Drysdale asks while scrambling for another mini cam/mic unit in his kit.

"Not sure yet, but I'm gonna crash their little party and we need to capture it with a touch better resolution that that." I say pointing at the now frozen, x-ray screen image.

Drysdale is fixing the unit to my lapel much like a teenager adding a boutonniere as the final touch before the prom. "Alright, you're good to go. Have fun and be home early Junior."

"The boutonniere symbolizes the honesty and integrity of the person wearing it," adds Mustang.

I appreciate their attempt at humor, especially under this nerve-wracking circumstance. I grab my cane, pivot and head for the door to face the unknown big-band music of diabolical chaos.

"Let's dance."