As Milo neared him, the beeping started again. And again got stronger as Milo got closer. Milo reached into Sweetness’s coat pocket and pulled out his phone. Steady beep. It was the same for all of us. Even Arvid.
“The apartment is clean,” Milo said, “but SUPO tapped all our phones.”
I wasn’t surprised. Arvid laughed. Kate’s mouth gaped. Sweetness hadn’t taken in the ramifications yet.
Milo ripped the tape off another box. It contained new Nokia phones. “These are N95s loaded with encryption software. The encryption,” he said, “is certified by the Israeli ministry of defense. There are no back doors. The encryption keys are randomly generated by the software and can’t be provided to anyone, either private organization or government. It’s a dual combination of asymmetric and symmetric encryption with end-to-end protection, from phone to phone, for both audio and text messages. A one-thousand-and-twenty-four-bit random master key is automatically generated per contact and replaced at every call start, and a two-hundred-and-fifty-six-bit random session key is replaced every second.”
He paused, waiting for us to cheer at our good fortune.
“That’s great news,” Sweetness said.
Milo didn’t get it that Sweetness was teasing him. “Just insert the SIM cards from the phones you have now, and your privacy is ensured. We can even have conference calls if we like.”
“I get one too?” Arvid asked. “What for? I just change diapers and cook.”
“Sir,” Milo said, “what is ours is yours. I have another gift for you as well, but I’d like to wait until we have Kari’s ‘Welcome back to the world’ party, when he officially goes back on duty to give it to you.”
I forgot to mention it to Kate.
“Party?” she asked.
“If it’s OK with you,” Milo said, “I’d like to have it here on the twenty-eighth of March. I need time to get everything together. It’ll take a few weeks. I have—or will have—gifts for you as well.”
Her curiosity was piqued. “Sure, we can have a party.”
She was miffed because the house was full of people. Violent and criminal people at that, even if they all worked for the police—or, in Arvid’s case, used to. Later, she told me she felt as if she was trying to raise a child in the lair of a terrorist cell. But Milo had proven the value of his undertakings and won her over for the time being.
“What else are you working on?” she asked.
“I’m building three synthesizable VHDL models of exact solutions for three-dimensional hyperbolic positioning systems,” he said.
“More ratchet noises,” she answered.
“They’re mobile stations for eavesdropping on cell phones, so we can do to the bad guys what was done to us. They’re not that great. The range is only a couple miles and they can only handle three or four phones at a time, but they’re the best I can do. And I’m building a new computer to suit our purposes. There isn’t one commercially made that has the exact components I want, and it saves a lot of money, too.”
“Here’s the deal,” she said. “My husband is recovering from two major surgeries. He needs quiet. We have a newborn infant. She and I both need quiet. You can spend a limited amount of time here to build your toys, but I want the house kept neat and your presence unobtrusive.” She turned to Sweetness. “You really are sweet, and you have our gratitude for driving Kari around, for shopping and just being generally helpful. But from now on, call before you come over, and don’t call three times a day. This is our home, not your squad room.”
Milo and Sweetness stared at the floor, hands in pockets, and waxed regretful.
“Kate, should I go home?” Arvid asked.
She walked over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Please, stay a few more days. You’ve been a great help to us, and we’re grateful.”
He flashed the smile that charmed her and nodded assent.
Kate left the room, went to tend to Anu.
I asked Milo, “How many heists have you pulled since I gave you that packet of info?”
“Two.”