by CW Browning
“There's quite a mix of interesting characters here,” Blake replied dryly. “I even saw your girlfriend.”
Michael lifted his eyes from his laptop sharply, a frown creasing his face.
“Where?”
“Across the road. She was watching me. Any ideas why?”
“None come to mind.” Michael closed his laptop and got up off the couch, heading over to the sliding doors. He stepped out onto the deck and slid the door closed behind him. “How do you know it was her?”
“Call it a hunch.” Blake's voice got muffled for a moment and then Michael heard the sound of a car door slamming. “She was across the road from an old prison. It's a museum now. She kind of looked like...”
“What?” Michael prompted when Blake didn't continue.
“Well, don't laugh...but she kind of looked like The Black Widow,” Blake told him.
Michael burst out laughing.
“Now that you mention it, there is a resemblance,” he admitted. “And she was wearing black when she left the house today.”
“Oh really?” Blake drawled. “How do we know what she was wearing today?”
“I'm staying with her temporarily,” Michael answered, suppressing a sigh.
“Is that so?” Blake demanded. “I thought you said it wasn't like that? In fact, I distinctly remember you biting my head off when I suggested...”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Michael cut him off crossly, causing Blake to start laughing. “It's not what you think. One of her friends got herself into a jam. I'm babysitting.”
There was a moment of complete silence on the phone and Michael waited, resigned. He didn't have long to wait.
“You don't say?” Blake's voice was shaking slightly. “I didn't know you took up moonlighting in your off-hours. How much do you charge for that?”
“Shut it, Twinkle-Toes,” Michael growled. At the mention of his old nickname from their military days, Blake guffawed into the phone. “It's only until Viper can take over.”
“Oh, this is priceless,” Blake chortled. “You mean, you're doing it for her? What's the matter? Is she busy saving the world again?”
“Stop being an ass.”
“I can't help it. I was born this way,” Blake retorted cheerfully. “This friend who got in a jam? Anything I should know about there?”
“Why do you ask?” Michael leaned on the banister around the deck and gazed out over the back lawn.
“Oh, I don't know.” Blake resorted to sarcasm. “Maybe because you're spending your vacation babysitting the friend of one of our government's top assassins, while I suddenly find myself working with her other friend. I don't know about you, Mike, but I'm starting to think Viper's just bad luck to her friends.”
“I wouldn't go that far yet,” Michael murmured. “As far as I can tell, Viper has no involvement.”
“Yet,” Blake retorted. The word hung heavily between them for a moment, then Blake moved on. “Well, if anything comes up that I should know about, let me know.”
“Will do.” Michael frowned slightly at the undercurrent in Blake's voice. “Everything ok?”
“Jenaro Gomez is here,” Blake told him somberly, “and he's making statements with other people's body parts. I don't like the fact that Ms. Walker's investigation appears to be linked in with him. I don't know what the story is with your babysitting gig, but watch your back, gunny. I have a bad feeling about all of this.”
Michael watched as Damon materialized out of the trees next to the garage and started to move silently across the grass.
“I hear you,” he murmured, watching Damon. “I'll take care of this end. You just make sure you take care of yours.”
“Is she inside?” Damon asked, stepping onto the deck silently as Michael tucked his cell phone into his jeans pocket.
“Which one?” Michael asked dryly.
Damon's blue eyes rested on Michael thoughtfully.
“Mine,” he answered softly.
Michael's eyes met his steadily, flashing briefly at the subtle warning in Damon's voice before his lips tightened imperceptibly.
“No. She went out a few hours ago.” He watched as Damon leaned against the banister next to him. “The other one is in there working.”
“I hear you got assigned babysitting duty,” Hawk said, crossing his arms over his chest. His blue eyes glinted with amusement as he glanced at him. “How's that working out for you?”
“So far, uneventful,” Michael answered with a grin.
“Nice of you to give up some of your vacation to help out.” Damon's lips were twitching.
“I couldn't really refuse,” Michael retorted. “Besides, the look on her face was worth it.”
Damon chuckled.
“God, I wish I could have seen it,” he admitted. “Did Raven really go after the cat?”
“Yes.” Michael started laughing. “I'll give Jersey this: it's not dull.”
“You're from Brooklyn? Were you going to see your parents?”
Michael glanced at Damon. He wasn't sure he wanted to know how Hawk knew about his family.
“Yes, but it's ok,” he answered. “They didn't expect me to stay the whole week. Bingo and All-You-Can-Eat buffets aren't really my thing.”
Damon couldn't stop the grimace crossing his face.
“I can't imagine they would be,” he murmured.
“Where are you coming from?” Michael asked, glancing at him. “Lina thought you would show up for breakfast.”
“I had some things to take care of,” Damon answered.
“On foot?”
Damon grinned at the incredulous look on Michael's face.
“I have my bike. It's in the woods inside her security perimeter,” he told him. “It's easier to get in and out unseen through the back of the property.”
Michael considered him thoughtfully, but was silent.
“Tell her I'll be back tonight if you see her,” Damon said after a moment, straightening up and turning toward the steps.
“Come in and wait if you like,” Michael said. “It's a full house.”
Damon glanced at him with a faint smile.
“No thanks,” he murmured. “I'm not in the mood to be treated to a seminar on the beneficial effects of sandalwood and incense.”
Michael raised an eyebrow.
“Eh?”
“Ask Angela.” Damon started down the steps. “She'll be more than happy to explain.” Hawk got to the bottom step and paused. He turned and looked at Michael. “Move Angela's car into the garage so it can't be seen,” he told him.
“Is that necessary out here?” Michael asked.
“He knows where he last saw her,” Hawk answered. “He can find his way back.”
“Do you really think he'll come back?” Michael asked him, his gaze serious. “Why would he think she's still here?”
“When he can't find her, he'll go back to the last place he knows she was,” Hawk replied. He turned to leave again, but hesitated.
“What is it?” Michael asked.
Hawk raised cold, blue eyes to his.
“Viper trusts you,” he said softly. “Don't disappoint her.”
Michael nodded slowly, studying him.
“It's not just Kwan I should be worrying about, is it?” he asked.
Hawk smiled slightly.
“You're a quick learner, gunny,” he said, turning and striding across the lawn. A few seconds later, he disappeared into the trees.
Chapter Twenty
Viper lowered the binoculars thoughtfully, her eyes resting on the large gray structure in the distance. The police still had the front yard to the prison taped off and two uniforms were making sure no one got curious. It hadn't taken two seconds to spot the plain-clothed, FBI agents stationed at the prison, one in front and one in back. She really should talk to Stephanie about the art of blending in for her agents. The FBI could be so much more productive if they weren't so glaringly obvious.
Setting the military binoculars
down, Alina pulled a small tablet from one of her cargo pockets. She pulled up the latest newspaper articles on the events at the prison and scanned through them, stopping when she got to a picture of Karl, the friendly night guard. Alina studied the picture thoughtfully before highlighting his face and copying the image. Opening a customized database, she pasted the picture and tapped to run a search. Lifting her eyes, she turned her attention back to the prison while her tablet searched the database for information on Karl.
Allowing Blake Hanover to see her had been a risk. Only a handful of people in the world had seen her and recognized her, and those people were all known liabilities in her mind. She added another today, but she wanted Blake to know she was here, and that she was watching. He took a chance on her two months ago in Washington. Viper wanted him to know that she was willing to return the favor.
An alert flashed on her tablet and Viper glanced down as information on Karl Didinger poured in from various government and private databases. She raised an eyebrow slightly. Karl certainly had a checkered past, and his financial situation was a mess. She noted his home address before sending the information to her private server at the house. A moment later, she turned off the tablet and slipped it back into her pocket. After taking one last look at the prison, she got up and turned to leave the roof. Dropping over the side and onto a fire escape ladder, Viper silently disappeared into the afternoon.
Stephanie sat on the uncomfortable couch in the entryway and watched as the woman behind the desk picked up the phone. She had been asked to wait over five minutes ago after showing her badge and requesting to speak with Philip Chou. Crossing her legs, Stephanie suppressed an impatient sigh and pulled out her phone. Swiping the screen, she opened her email and scrolled through it while she waited. Still nothing from Matt on Rodrigo's PCs and still nothing from the BOLOs they had out on the missing guide, Jessica Nuñez, Karl, or Lorenzo Porras.
Closing her email in frustration, Stephanie glanced up as a man emerged from a hallway on the other side of the entryway and approached the desk. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him adjust his tie nervously while he spoke to the woman at the desk, glancing in her direction. A feeling of foreboding stole over Stephanie when he turned toward her.
“Agent Walker?” the man asked, moving toward her. She stood up and he held out a shaking hand. “I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Scott Reynolds, the head of Program Development here. I'm Philip Chou's boss.”
“Hello.” Stephanie shook his hand. She frowned at the damp palm grasping hers. “Is everything alright, Mr. Reynolds?”
“Yes, yes.” Scott pulled his hand away and smiled nervously. “Well, in a manner of speaking, anyway. Is Philip in any trouble?”
“Not at all,” Stephanie assured him, resisting the urge to cross her fingers behind her back. “I just have a few questions for him regarding an ongoing investigation. Nothing to be concerned about.”
“Good, good! I guess I don't have to tell you that we don't get visits from the FBI very often.”
“Of course not,” Stephanie murmured. She looked at him expectantly and Scott seemed to hesitate, looking slightly embarrassed. “What's the matter, Mr. Reynolds?” she asked bluntly.
“Well, the thing is, Agent Walker,” Scott said, taking a deep breath, “I can't seem to find Philip.”
Stephanie stared at him.
“I'm sorry?”
“It's really the strangest thing,” Scott said, shaking his head and running a hand through his dark hair. The unruly curls, already a mess, seemed to stand up on end when he pulled his hand away. “He was here not more than an hour ago. We had a conference call and he was at my desk with me. When the meeting was over, he went to the bathroom. No one seems to have seen him since.”
“Mr. Reynolds, are you telling me you lost your employee?” Stephanie asked after a moment of incredulous silence.
“Well, in a word, yes.” Scott shook his head again and turned to the front desk. He motioned for her to join him. “We've been calling his cell phone and paging him, but...well...nothing.”
“Could he be in the lunch room? Visiting a friend in another department?” Stephanie suggested. “I'm sure he didn't just disappear.”
“I've got security checking the entire building,” Scott told her. He looked at the woman behind the desk. “Anything yet?”
“I'm sorry, sir, nothing,” she answered apologetically.
Stephanie pressed her lips together and pulled out her phone again. While Scott leaned over the desk and picked up a phone, presumably to check with someone else, she turned away and hit speed dial. It was picked up after one ring.
“Connor? Are you still outside?” Stephanie asked, her voice low.
“Yep. I saw you go in,” Connor answered. “What's up?”
“They've lost Philip Chou,” Stephanie told him grimly.
There was a short silence on the line.
“His car's still here. I'm staring at it,” Connor answered. “He hasn't come out of the building since he went in five hours ago.”
“Did you see anything suspicious? Anything at all?” Stephanie asked.
“Nothing.” Connor paused for a moment and it sounded like he was sucking soda through a straw. “There were a lot of people coming and going over the lunch hour, but he wasn't one of them. In fact, he hasn't gone out for lunch for the past two days. He never leaves the building until it's time to go home.”
“Ok. I'll be out soon,” Stephanie said and disconnected. She turned back to the front desk as Scott was hanging up the phone.
“I just spoke to security,” he said. “They haven't found him. They're still looking, but the only places left to check, Philip doesn't have access to. They're checking anyway. This is really quite embarrassing.”
“Do you mind if I take a look at his desk?” Stephanie asked, slipping her phone back into her purse.
Scott looked startled, but nodded quickly.
“Of course not,” he said. He turned to the desk again and grabbed a sign-in log and a visitor's badge. “Sorry. You have to sign in and wear this,” he said apologetically, flashing her a twisted smile. “I feel stupid asking a federal agent to do this, but it's company security policy.”
“Not a problem,” Stephanie assured him, signing the log quickly and dropping the lanyard with the visitor’s badge over her head. “I understand.”
Scott nodded and turned to lead the way into the hallway he emerged from earlier.
“I'm sure he'll show up,” he said as they walked past cubicles filled with people staring at computer screens. “This is very unusual. Philip is kind of a loner, you know. He's a cool guy, but he doesn't socialize much. He usually comes to work, eats at his desk, and doesn't stray far from the department.”
“What does he do, exactly?” Stephanie asked.
“Oh, he's one of my top programmers,” Scott answered readily. “He's been working on a security program for the mainframe for the past few months.”
Stephanie glanced at him sharply under her lashes.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. After all the banks were hacked last year, Philip came up with a program that would make the mainframe virtually impenetrable. I'm sure you remember the incidents last year. It was all over the news. Most of the banks in the US were hacked and mainframes shut down. The hackers didn't take anything, but the disruption in business was catastrophic. We had clients unable to access their accounts for days. It was a mess.”
“I remember that,” Stephanie murmured. “They hit all the banks over a few months, didn't they?” she asked, pretending ignorance of the incident that jump-started her whole investigation.
“Yes.” Scott motioned for her to precede him around a corner into another short hallway. “Well, after that incident, we were given the impossible task of trying to ensure it would never happen again. I didn't see how we could do it when we didn't even know how they got in to begin with. I mean, how do you plug a hole you don't know is there, right? But Philip fi
gured it out. He figured out how they got in, and has been working on a firewall program for the mainframe ever since.”
“So, he's kind of a smart guy, then,” Stephanie remarked with a smile.
“Scary smart,” Scott agreed.
“Just one question.” Stephanie stopped walking at the end of the hallway and turned to look at Scott. “If the bank wanted to install a security layer on the mainframe, why are they doing it through this building? Isn't your main office in New York?”
Scott chuckled.
“The main office is, yes, but this is the main IT hub,” he explained.
“Ah. So, you guys are the big guns of New Federal's IT,” Stephanie said with a grin.
Scott grinned back.
“I've been called worse,” he told her with a laugh, “but that's about the size of it. Here we are.”
Stephanie looked around as they emerged into a huge space divided into sections with half-cubicle walls. A dozen programmers were at their desks, engrossed in their work. The level of privacy was minimal, resulting in an impression of openness and team-oriented work.
“Philip's desk is over here,” Scott said, leading the way around the perimeter to a desk on the other side of the large room.
Stephanie stepped into the cubicle that housed Philip Chou's desk and glanced around. The desk was littered with notepads and pens, a stress ball shaped like a baseball, and an assortment of network cables and flash drives. Philip had two, twenty-two inch flat screen monitors, both dark, and a desktop PC on the floor under the desk. There was also a docking station on the desk and Stephanie glanced at Scott.
“Does he have a laptop?” she asked, pointing to the empty docking station.
Scott nodded and his frown deepened.
“Yes, he does. He had it earlier at my desk,” he said, looking around the cubicle. “It doesn't seem to be here, does it? I wonder if he went home. It would be odd for him to leave and not tell anyone, but I don't know where else he would have taken his laptop.”
“He didn't go home,” Stephanie said grimly.
She pointed to a set of car keys sitting on the corner of the desk, alongside a blackberry silently lit up with several missed calls.
