Tikki spends a moment looking it over. She’s seen models like it before. It
comes in a hard-shell case a bit bigger and thicker than an ordinary briefcase. 
The lid, standing open, bares a black macroplast faceplate fitted with a display 
screen, a small keyboard, some switches, and graphic indicators. The fiber-optic 
line from the telecom plugs into a port beside the keyboard. Another line, 
plugged into the adjoining port, rises up to vanish through a small hole in the 
ceiling. That probably connects to a satellite dish on the roof of a nearby 
building. What the dish is linked to is anyone’s guess, but Tikki is confident
that any call made through the setup will be virtually untraceable.