4.

Yann left his boss with the airplane in case the pilots woke up, and jumped into the van with Martine to return to the offices near the control tower.
He had barely stepped out of the van when he was surrounded by a crowd of curious colleagues eager to find out what had happened.
With a quick look, Yann let them know that it was useless to insist.
"The men in the plane are okay. I can't tell you anymore for now, just that the emergency is over."
Everybody seemed to relax, and the smiles returned to their faces. They began chatting about the landing and one by one everybody went back to their offices.
Yann led Martine back to the security station in the main building. As they entered, the engineer asked the guard on duty, "Where do you keep the portable digital fingerprint ID machines?"
The guard, a huge man built like a rugby player – in fact he was a rugby player! – slowly uncoiled from his chair and reached for a device up on the shelf. It was about as big as a large PDA, with a handle on the back and a rubber protective housing. There was a small depression on the front, the fingerprint reader, just big enough to place the tip of the finger to be identified.
"This is the Morpho RapID, made by Sagem Défense Sécurité, I mean by SAFRAN," Yann explained to Martine, adding with a touch of pride, "Developed in-house of course!"
"And what does it do?" asked a perplexed Martine, who didn't quite see the relationship between this device and their mysterious airplane.
"Well, most of the time we use this little baby to identify people," answered Yann, who couldn't help making fun of Martine. He turned back to the guard: "Does it have the access files for our site?"
"Of course."
Satisfied, Yann pointed to the fingerprint reader slot on top of the device, telling Martine, "Place your index finger there."
She did as she was told, curious to see what this was all about.
Almost instantaneously, the color screen displayed her name. "Here you go," said Yann, turning the screen towards her with a chuckle.
He turned back to the guard: "Could you ask headquarters to compare the fingerprints we're going to send them with those on the group's security file?"
The guard nodded his assent.
"If our two " beauties are registered with SAFRAN, we should be able to find out who they are," said a determined Yann.
“Do we have the right to just take fingerprints like that?” asked a surprised Martine.
Yann couldn’t help a small laugh: “Well, ten years ago that was a major issue, but today everything has been settled. You just have to contact the company’s personal data protection officer, who applies for emergency authorization from the CNIL.”
Martine pointed towards the Morpho RapID.
"No plug, I imagine?"
“Of course not! And it can run for eight hours at a time – that should be enough I hope.”
Yann’s cellphone began to vibrate; the authorization number appeared on his screen.
Less than ten minutes later, they were back inside the Falcon jet.
"Are they still "?" asked Martine as she entered the cabin.
Franck Calmotte pointed to one of the passengers, who didn't seem to have a care in the world. "Like a couple of babies. But why would two pilots be " like that during the flight? I just don't get it!"
Yann showed him the Morpho RapID.
"We should know more in just a few seconds."
He entered the authorization number, then carefully picked up the passenger’s hand and placed the tip of his index finger on the fingerprint reader.
With a sigh he straightened up, then bent over again to check the other guy.
A few minutes later Yann connected the Morpho RapID to his laptop's USB port and transferred the data to SAFRAN headquarters.
The answer was lightning quick: negative. No data in the files!
"Well," said Calmotte in a flat voice, "it looks like they're not on the rolls at SAFRAN."
The engineer was very disappointed, because he had had high hopes for his solution. "But look at that flight suit with the ‘SAFRAN' emblem. They must belong to the group, and they should be in our files, I'm sure of it. The machine can't be wrong; if they're in there, it'll find them.
Martine, Yann and Calmotte went back into the Falcon, to be near the still " pilots.
All three were frustrated. Looking more than a little lost, they poked around the cabin as if it held the secret to this mystery.
"I'm going to find something to move these guys back inside the building," said a determined Yann. "There's got to be a way to get some more information on them!"
He jumped into the van, returning quickly with two folding wheelchairs that he left at the foot of the plane's stairway. Yann had also brought with him the husky guard. The giant pouted. Together, they lifted the two men into the wheelchairs outside the plane. Neither of the " men woke up.
"That's a mighty powerful " pill!" said Calmotte dryly.
Yann nodded his head absently in agreement.
The van brought them back to the main entrance, at the foot of the control tower. They pushed the wheelchairs up to the elevator.
Suddenly, Martine seemed to notice something. She bent over the sleeping passenger, running her fingernail along the SAFRAN emblem on his blue flightsuit. She grasped the edge of the emblem and pulled.
They all heard the classic sound of a Velcro fastener pulling apart.
"It's a pocket," exclaimed Calmotte.
"There's a little pocket in there," echoed Martine.
She grabbed a little magnetic card that now peaked over the edge of the Velcro.
"What is it?" said Calmotte.
"An access badge!" responded Yann feverishly. "That's what we needed. And it's one of our latest models, ultra-secure and counterfeit-proof! We use those in our most sensitive sites. In fact, we have a system like that here in the lab."
Yann held out the two badges. "They have biometric ID measurements, plus a photo of the card-holder. Because of security, they're all in a single database, protected by the best firewalls around! Now we should be able to identify these guys!"
They all quickly went back to the lab, where the engineer placed one of the badges into the slot on the badge reader.
All three faces looked intently at the screen.
At last, they had identified the two men on the Falcon.
It was Martine who broke the silence.
"Well, I'll be darned! Look at that!"

***