The Scene Plotter

The Brachiosaur spotted me behind the shrubs and made its way towards my direction. Oh my god! I screamed within. I was counting my final few breaths and heard bells chiming in heaven. Drat! It was my cell phone ringing at 5.45 a.m. and I picked up to hear, “Agent Smith!!”

“Agent Carl,” I replied. “Isn’t today a Saturday morning?” I mumbled.

”Yah better pick yourself up, we need you at the FBI building in 45 min.”

“Well, remember I got a 35 min commute,” I replied and hung up.

Dressing quickly, I was out on the beltway in 15 minutes and exited onto I-66E towards Washington D.C. It had snowed the previous night and the roads were slippery. Spotting the monument up straight ahead, I strained my neck and caught a nebulous image of the Capitol far ahead. I took a right from 9^th street onto E street and drove straight towards the J. Edgar Hoover F.B.I. Building.

Entering the lobby, I grabbed a copy of the Washington post and quickly peered over the previous night game between the Redskins and Cowboys. I took the elevator to the second floor and jogged to the conference room.

Carl was already there well dressed in a blue single breast three-button suit and pleated trousers. “Mornin Smith!!! Right on time as always huh.” I nodded and spotted an attractive European lady in her early thirties by his side.

He started, “allow me to introduce Miss Anastazia Kowalski from Poland. She is here to assist us in the cryptogram that must reach Kabul by next week.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I retorted at Carl and shook my hands with the Polish secret agent “Morning Miss Kowalski, I am Agent Smith.”

“My pleasure and you can call me Anastazia,” she smiled as she shook hands.

Carl started, “Well Smith, I guess we have been given orders from top officials to encrypt the location of the rendezvous in the northern region of Afghanistan somewhere between Bamian and Kunduz. I am afraid any information pertaining to the location is top secret and classified and I can’t inform you at this time. With your help, we need to find an able cryptographer to encode this information so that we can pass it on to our co-workers in Afghanistan. Fortunately for us, the FBI has hunted down a cryptographer and today I’ll be giving you his location. Find out and learn as much as you can about his work and whether he’ll be useful to us.

”You mean, you have found a code breaker who could assist the FBI and the defense in solving cryptic anagrams and so forth? Hmm! Interesting!” I said.

“Well he’s rather a code maker, a scene plotter” Carl corrected “and a specialist in encrypting secret information. Given the scenario, he can completely twist the picture and confuse our enemies so that they’ll perceive a completely different plot. Finding out how authentic he is and how valuable he will be to the FBI is where you fit in. All we know right now is he is in Hagerstown and has already been informed about your forthcoming visit. Further, although Polish by origin, he is an American citizen. Regarding Anastazia, she has assisted the Polish secret service (UOP) in solving many cryptograms and being Polish she’ll be useful in communicating with the cryptographer.

I replied, “Interesting, but I would still be curious why you aren’t resorting to modern day algorithms to encode top secret information?”

“Well,” Carl said, “this information is vital and useful to wind up the Al Qaeda, and therefore at this time experts feel it is better we resort to traditional techniques. I would like you to start with Miss Anastazia in an hour. Here are the directions,” he added handing us the documents.”

Anastazia and I started heading west and merged onto I-70 W towards Hagerstown. Rolling down the windows, we couldn’t take our eyes from the surrounding scenic landscapes.

“So, Miss Anastazia, what interested you into cryptography?” I said. “Are you like as Kate Winslet in that movie Enigma?”

She started, “I am not used to American movies agent Smith,” her accent sounding funny.

“Could you educate me more on code making and so forth? That way I could enjoy the ride better,” I said.

“Sure,” she began. “Cryptography, the science of encoding valuable information dates back to 1900 B.C and were used in hieroglyphics by Egyptians as evident from some old parchments.”

“My! Why would you code something that is already a conundrum,” I interrupted.

Ignoring my remark, she continued, “this time, I guess we are approaching someone known as a classical cryptographer who’ll use a pen and a paper as opposed to algorithms as you had mentioned before. Well, there are other means to encrypt information and during World War II rotor machines were commonly used. With the advent of modern day digital data communications, far better cryptographic schemes using complex algorithms have been developed. But again, as Carl had pointed out, an expert computer hacker could break into a complex code quite easily.” Chucking, she added, “after all, Microsoft has been damaged more by hackers than were pyramids of Giza in olden days by plunderers. In addition, cryptographers must be aware of downscaling of integrated circuits, Moore’s law, and so forth as the existing code must be compatible with future generation devices”

“Wow! That was really informative. I really hope this guy turns out to be useful. By the way, do you know anything about him yet?” I said.

“Only that his name is Raphael Borowski.” She said. “I guess isn’t that why we are here today? To learn more about his work and find out how resourceful he’ll be to us?”

Exiting off the I-70, we entered Sandman lane and made a right onto Powell Avenue. A neatly painted white colored house with three French windows also containing a small lawn in the front seemed to be the right address.

We knocked on the door and a heavyset elderly looking gentleman appearing to be in his early 60’s with thick white beard opened the door and asked, “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Agent Smith and Agent Anastazia, we are officers from the FBI and hope you’ve been informed about our visit” I said and we both shook our hands.

“Please come in, my name is Raphael Borowski,” he said and took us inside a fairly large hall well furnished with a fireplace, two white sofas and a mahogany desk. On to our right was an old grand piano, probably an acoustic one from one of the Steinways.

“Would you like to drink something? The polish Vodka - Zubrowka? Or a Krupnik, which is also a polish hot Vodka with honey.

While he was inside, fixing our drink, I couldn’t help noticing the walls that were surrounded with modern art paintings. Hey wait a minute! I thought. Far from being modern day painting, the canvasses on the walls seemed like ancient maps.

Beckoning Anastazia, I started, “Hey, it appears as though he likes encrypting information through maps and pictures. You never mentioned anything like this in the 901 level crash course you offered me in the car. And what the hell is that?” I asked pointing to the 3^rd painting above the fireplace that resembled something like a secret tunnel.

Shrugging Anastazia whispered, “I don’t know, from these paintings I gather he uses special maps or pictures to encode information. I guess this form of cryptography is new and unknown to me.

Raphael returned with three huge mugs of Vodka and looked us gazing at the maps in awe and admiration.

“Cheers! Did you do that all yourself Mr. Borowski? Very admirable” I asked sipping on the Vodka.

“I guess that is my profession,” he replied smilingly.

“Would you like to show us some of your works?” I said.

“Sure, follow me” he began and walked towards the basement door towards our left and took us down the basement. The basement had a musty smell and seemed ancient with the neon lamps giving a picture of a medieval grand hall. It was fairly huge and there were more maps than what we saw on the hall.

“What would you like me to show you? Something ancient or something modern?” He asked us.

Being intrigued by Anastasia’s explanation about the Egyptians, I immediately asked for ancient ones.

He retrieved a huge map from the right wall and set it up on the display table. “This,” he started, is a map of one of the banquet halls in Rome during Julius Caesar’s regime in 65B.C. If you notice carefully, on the right hand corner of the room, there is a trapdoor that leads into something like a secret chamber where you could hide under emergency conditions.”

He went back and brought a similar but a larger map. “This is about one of the more famous African dynasties under the rule of king Mansa Kankan Musa. This Arabian empire ruled from 14^th to 17^th century and had more than half of the world’s gold during their time. This map shows the famous Sankore University in Tombouctoo.”

He then went on to show some of his modern works and in an hour we were impressed with him and I began to think he might be our guy. Anastazia caught my eye and smiled seeming to indicate she agrees with me.

“Mr. Borowski?” I started, I guess you’ve shown us enough and first, I was wondering if you were aware of our visit?”
He looked at me questioningly giving me the feeling that I thought he was a convict and shrugged. “Not really, I guess I was tipped about your visit without having been given any reason.”

“Mr. Borowski,” began Anastazia, “we are in search of an able cryptographer for coding valuable secret information. From the little of what you’ve shown us about your work, it appears as though you encode information through maps and pictures. You’ve been impressive today afternoon and therefore, could you demonstrate some of your encrypting skills so that we could decide if you’re the right person for our group?”

“Well, I am not sure I understand you correctly Agent Anastazia.”

For a moment he frowned and gave us a confused look. Within seconds a flash of brilliance seemed to occur on his forehead and he rolled back his head laughing.

“My friends, I think a malapropism has occurred with the help of someone who is a muddle head within the FBI.” I exchanged glances with Anastazia, both of us completely bewildered.

He continued, “My friends, my profession is what is known as cartography and hence I become a cartographer – a map maker and not a cryptographer. Funny you didn’t mention the term as soon as you entered the house.”

Feeling completely ashamed, I didn’t know what to say and what to go back and report. Worse, Anastazia had jumped continents with the hope of nailing down this guy to get the job done. The FBI was already a laughing stock being unable to stop the terrorists and we wondered what the high officials will have to say when this incident leaks to the press. Reading our minds and guessing our fear, Borowski slowly began. “Do not worry Agent smith, I can sense your discomfiture. My lips are sealed and I will not sing. I have always been and will be a Republican.”

“Since you’ve come all way here, would you two like to learn about cartography? Something very general and quick?” He said

“Some other time Mr. Borowski, I am already overwhelmed with cryptography today.” I said and left.

“Some scene plotter he is”, I said to Anastazia as we entered our car.