by Toby Neal
She still had DAVID, even if the program was mothballed. She had friends. She had a dog that loved her. She just needed to beat the depression back enough to get ahead of it.
The elevator doors opened.
A tall, well-built, dark-haired man stood outside of her apartment, his hand raised to knock on the red lacquered door. He turned, raked her with a glance, and broke into a grin.
“Sophie Ang? Just the woman I came to see.”
Chapter Five
Sophie examined the man’s ID, presented in the kind of leather cred wallet she’d once carried with the FBI. Jake Dunn, Extraction and Security Specialist, was six foot three inches, one hundred ninety-five pounds, with brown hair and blue eyes.
Only his eyes weren’t really blue. They were gunmetal gray, with a blue ring around the iris, and quite arresting. Dunn wore black cargo pants and a tight ribbed tee that left little of his well-defined torso to the imagination. His belt was loaded with holstered weapons and he wore the kind of laced-up combat boots that meant business.
The Security Solutions operative shifted from foot to foot in front of her. His ID photo didn’t capture the sense of crackling energy that surrounded him.
Sophie took her time to examine his credentials and call them in to Security Solutions.
“Satisfied? My boss, Todd Remarkian, sent me here to recruit you.” Dunn’s tone was impatient. “He said he had an offer for you as a tech agent, and a case he knew you’d be interested in. It’s on the Big Island.”
Interest, flickering into life through the muffling deadness that surrounded Sophie, felt like the prickling of a frozen limb awakening to warmth.
“Where on the Big Island?”
“Waipio Valley. A cult. The Society of Light. I can’t tell you more until you sign the offer. Can we get out of this damn hallway and talk privately?”
Sophie unlocked her apartment. “Wait here five minutes. I need to get cleaned up.” She wasn’t about to shower with this G.I. Joe action figure of a man sitting in her front room. Ginger was useless as a guard dog, already fawning over Dunn and rubbing herself lasciviously against the man’s leg.
Sophie tweaked the dog’s leash, hauled her inside, and shut the door soundly. She heard a deep-voiced curse through the door as she headed for the bathroom.
Sophie smiled. Beating Dunn in the ring, or on a computer, or perhaps at shooting—was going to be fun. She enjoyed besting testosterone-driven males.
She took exactly five minutes to shower and change into a pair of yoga pants and a slim-fitting, ruby-red top. She opened the door. “Come in.”
Dunn swept her with an assessing glance. “Todd didn’t tell me you were hot.”
“I fail to see how that’s relevant.” Sophie’s neck heated with annoyance. “And if we’re ever going to work together you should keep those thoughts to yourself.” She sounded fussy and prim as she folded her arms over her chest.
“Got a stick up your butt. I can dig it.” Dunn sat down on the low Danish-style couch, his thick legs sprawled, arms stretched out along the low back. “Nice place.”
“My father’s. Where’s this contract? Unless you just came to waste my time with Neanderthal insults.”
“Oh, when I insult you, you’ll know it.” Dunn unbuttoned one of the cargo pockets on his leg and extracted several folded pages. “Here.”
Sophie took the papers and went to a nearby desk. She sat on the sleek chair, flicked on the lamp and began to read. Dunn got up and paced back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sitting clearly wasn’t something he did well, but he moved gracefully for such a big man. “Frickin’ awesome view. What does your father do?”
Sophie didn’t take her eyes off the contract. Looked like a terrific package; the pay was close to twice what she’d earned as an agent. “Curb your language, foul-mouthed son of a yak.”
“What language is that you’re speaking?” Dunn stopped in front of her, legs planted like tree trunks, arms crossed on his chest. Hawaiian tribal tattoos of interlocking triangles banded sinewy forearms. Dunn was clearly used to getting whatever he wanted with a minimum of time and effort. Women probably rolled over and spread their legs for him as easily as Ginger, currently lying on her back, wriggling in ecstasy as he scratched her belly with the toe of his boot. “You look ethnic. What kind of ethnic are you? Balinese? Black and Balinese?”
He wasn’t far wrong. Sophie’s black and Thai heritage was usually hard to pinpoint. Perhaps Dunn was sharper than he first appeared. “What kind of ethnic? Who asks questions like that? Clearly you’re overdue for some sensitivity training.”
Dunn tipped his head back and laughed. He had the kind of laugh that made babies giggle and female toes curl. Sophie tried not to smile as she looked down at the contract.
“Okay. Good behavior starts now. I can take instruction.” Dunn spun and began his pacing again. “Todd said you’re one of the best operatives at tech he’s ever encountered. High praise from a man who helped start a security firm whose main product is an artificially intelligent home security system.”
“Todd exaggerates.” Sophie reached the end of the contract. “This seems in order, but I’d like to speak to Mr. Remarkian myself before making any decisions.”
“Fine. Dick around with it all you want. But don’t waste my time. You want in on this case? ’Cause I can’t talk to you about it without more, and actually I need your intel from the FBI recon before I go over to the Big Island.” Dunn sat back down, but she felt his presence and will pressing on her like a bulldozer blade.
“I’m interested. But I’m not talking to you tonight about this. Or anything.” Sophie stood. “Thank you for bringing the contract by, Mr. Dunn.”
Dunn stared at her for a long moment, then laughed again. “Hard to get, are you? I can dig that too.”
Sophie kept her face blank with an effort—but she had years of hiding her emotions, thanks to Assan Ang.
“I like you, Ang. I think we’ll get along fine.” Dunn strode to the door and pulled it open. “Your dog likes me. That oughta mean something. Here’s my number. Let me know what you decide.” He set a card on the shiny black lacquer table beside the front door and shut the door behind him.
Sophie let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Dunn seemed to have sucked all the life out of the room and taken it with him. Ginger appeared to agree, as the dog sat and stared at the closed door, whining mournfully.
Todd Remarkian answered her call on the second ring. “G’day, Sophie! Thought I might hear from you.” The Australian’s tone was upbeat, as usual. “I take it Get ’Er Dunn hit your doorstep.”
Sophie snorted a laugh. “The man has the manners of a tank.”
“Jake’s a diamond in the rough. So I take it you got the contract? Calling with questions?”
“I want to know why you reached out to me with employment at this time.”
Remarkian sounded surprised. “Security Solutions got this Waipio case, apparently on your referral. I thought it was high time I tried to steal you from the FBI.”
“Oh.” No one but her immediate FBI team knew she’d quit the FBI. She smoothed the contract on the desk before her. “I’m not sure I’m ready to make a commitment as an employee. But I’d like to work this case. Can we work out a temporary contract to start?”
“Sure. I’ll have Human Resources work up a private contractor contract. We do that all the time, actually.” A long pause. “So, Dunn is primary on this case. He has a number of useful skills, but he needs a partner, someone with communication and tech skills who can also work out in the field if need be. Think you can work with him? I know he’s a little crude…”
“I can handle him.” Sophie folded the contract decisively and slid it into the drawer of the desk. “Shall I come down to your office tomorrow to take care of the paperwork?”
“What about the FBI?”
“I resigned. Irreconcilable differences.” The trite phrase was all she planned to say
to anyone about it.
“Their loss is our gain.” Remarkian sounded delighted. “Meet me at nine a.m. at our downtown office. I’ll have the contract for you, and you and Dunn can plan the op.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for thinking of me.” Sophie ended the call.
The depression was back in its box, banished by Marcella and the whirlwind that was Dunn and this new job opportunity. Sophie sat down at her computers. She emailed the lawyer she had filing the patent on DAVID, asking for some kind of motion to keep the FBI from claiming it as work product and explaining what had happened. Could she sue for damages? She inquired.
It was worth a try. And now it was time to see if the Ghost had checked their chatbox.
He had.
“I’m sorry to hear you won’t be chasing me anymore. I enjoyed our little games. You deserve to work for someone who appreciates your talents. Please don’t hesitate to contact me and let me know how I can help you. A word in the right ear could open doors.”
Sophie wrote back. “Thanks, but it’s under control. Know anything about the Society of Light cult on the Big Island? About to figure out what life is like in the private security sector in a case involving children held against their mother’s will in a compound in the Waipio Valley.”
She paused, fingers poised above the keyboard. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from this man.
The Ghost was someone who killed—indirectly, through manipulation, it was true—but killed nonetheless, by using information he’d stolen to turn unsavory criminals against each other. She’d uncovered this using DAVID, and now that the program was shut down, there was no way to track if the Ghost was still up to his tricks.
“Until next time, I’ll be adjusting to civilian life.”
Sophie shut the chat window and got up. Time to organize herself for the first morning of the rest of her life.
Todd Remarkian greeted her, walking forward for a brief hug. He smelled of sandalwood aftershave and the hair gel spiking his dark blond hair. His blue eyes were bright with pleasure to see her. “Sophie! You’re looking terrific.”
“Thanks.” She’d got up early and put on makeup, which she seldom used—but something had to be done about the circles under her eyes. She’d dressed for the meeting in her standard FBI “uniform” of a crisp white button-down with a tank shirt underneath, stretchy black pants, and athletic shoes. The shoulder holster holding her Glock rubbed a little against her elbow through the gray blazer she wore to conceal it. “I’m excited to get those kids out of the Waipio Valley.”
“Hey.” Jake Dunn had been leaning on Todd’s desk, and the man pushed off, striding forward to engulf her hand in his. “Glad you’re coming on board.”
“Just a trial run.” Sophie addressed her comment to Remarkian. “Thanks for the opportunity. I have a vested interest in this case. I’m sure you heard from the children’s mother that my SAC pulled the case and punted it back to Hilo PD.”
“Yeah. And they aren’t doing anything until the mother has a custody order. So what can you tell us about what we’re getting into?” Dunn was dressed for action as he’d been the previous day, and looked ready for action.
Sophie took a step back to get more personal space. “I turned over all the video and surveillance to Hilo PD, but I can give you a verbal recap of the intel we collected.”
“Before you get into all that, let’s dispense with the contract formalities. Jake, can you give us a moment in private?” Remarkian asked.
“Sure. I’ll see you at my office, Ang, and we can get started planning the op.” Dunn lifted a hand and exited. Sophie was left with the sense of a dust devil passing, leaving a whirl of energy settling in its wake.
Todd’s eyes crinkled. “He’s a piece of work. But gets the job done, Dunn, as it were.”
“Lots of puns to be had with his name,” Sophie said. “I’m sorry. I’m not quick with those. I’m bilingual, but didn’t move to the US until around five years ago. At least I can catch them now.”
“You don’t need to be funny. You’re intelligent and talented, not to mention beautiful.” Todd’s voice was warm, and Sophie glanced at him. His expression was guileless and bland, his smile neutral. Sometimes she had the feeling he was interested in her in a romantic way, but he’d never asked her out beyond their shared interest in hike-running with their dogs. She wasn’t sure how she’d respond if he did make a move.
“You had a contract for me to look over?”
“Of course.” Remarkian handed it to her, mounted on a clipboard with a silver pen attached.
Sophie sat on one of the chairs in his seating area, a fluid arc of poured wine-red plastic that was surprisingly comfortable. “Looks in order.” She was shocked at the high hourly pay, which she was to log and submit an invoice for. All expenses were covered, and additional “bodily hazard insurance” was offered. She initialed, accepting the insurance, and signed the paper. She handed it back to Remarkian.
“Good.” He took the contract and walked around to his desk, another red poured plastic form which somehow looked right in the modern minimalist décor. The downtown Honolulu view made a tropical backdrop, framed by huge windows. “Now that this is in order, you can get started. I have an office assigned to you temporarily, next to Jake’s. Down a floor, and to the left. You two will be reporting to Kendall Bix, VP of Operations. I don’t usually work with individual service providers, but I wanted to grease the wheels to get you on this case as fast as possible.”
“Thank you, Todd.” Sophie held the man’s gaze and spoke with sincerity. “This offer came at the perfect time.”
“My close friends call me Connor. It’s my middle name. Glad we could find a way to make it work.” Remarkian’s tone was a little over-hearty, the Aussie accent broader than usual.
Somehow his comment reminded Sophie of Waxman’s insistence that she “call me Ben.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’re kind of my boss now.” Sophie frowned.
“You’re a short-term contract employee and you answer to a distant department head. What, we can’t be friends now?” Remarkian’s chuckle sounded forced. “I would rather have you for a friend than an employee, much as I value your skills.”
Sophie looked at the floor. Friend she could do. She wasn’t ready to be more with Remarkian. “Okay, Connor.”
“Let’s run this weekend if you’re free. Dead Man’s Catwalk?” Remarkian named an off-limits but famous hike that ended at a spectacular tongue of concrete protruding from a giant cliff over the ocean. “Anubis needs a workout.”
“Ginger does too. Excellent.” Sophie gave a mock salute. “Thanks. I’m ready to get to work.”
Looking around her new office, Sophie battled a sense of unreality.
Just days ago she’d been in her haven, her cave: the FBI’s IT lab, with its cool dark bays and humming, quiet energy.
Now the light of a bright Honolulu day blazed through tinted windows, illuminating a large desk, sleek computer console, phone, and round-tabled seating area with a large smartboard mounted on the wall. She was going to be out in the field, not behind a computer, most of the time.
“Nice, right?” Dunn thumbed to his office next door, identical to hers right down to a green-shaded lamp on the desk. “Come check out this topographical map of Waipio that I’ve got set up. The company helicopter’s reserved to take us to the Big Island in two hours, so we need to get to it.”
“I see why Remarkian calls you Get ’Er Dunn.” Sophie followed the big man into the next office.
Dunn grinned at her. “I’ll answer to that. Now gimme all the intel you picked up over there, and let’s get over to the Big Island.”
Chapter Six
The helicopter they took into Waipio was a Bell Jet painted in camouflage colors, every bit as fast as the FBI one she’d taken there just a few days earlier. They’d timed the flight for late evening—a popular time for helicopter tours, frequent in the big valley with its spectacular waterfal
l and soaring, ridged green walls.
Sophie leaned her forehead against the curved Plexiglas window, watching the ripple of the ocean pass beneath them, cobalt blue and crinkled as a crumpled piece of aluminum foil. “No whales this time of year,” she commented to Dunn, sitting up front with the pilot.
He nodded. “Lived in Alaska for a few years. Amazing how far the whales are willing to come to play in the warm water here. No food for six months either. That’s commitment.”
They flew past the variegated hump of Maui, crowned in clouds. The Big Island loomed ahead, blue-purple in a haze of “vog,” volcanic emissions from Kilauea’s ongoing eruption. The rugged golden slopes of the dry side of the island soon gave way to the lush green of the eastern side, where rain clouds were captured by the prevailing height of the dormant Mauna Loa volcano.
Waipio Valley appeared as a vast rift in the island, a primordial layering of shades of green. Even having been there recently, Sophie half expected dinosaurs to appear among the spreading albizia trees along the velvet pastureland and olive satin of the river.
“Fly along the valley walls and set us down at least a mile from the compound,” Dunn directed. “Don’t want to spook the target.”
“Roger that.” The pilot kept them at a typical tourist viewing height, then swooped swiftly down to land in an open area on the top of one of the ridges. Sophie hopped out of the chopper, lug-soled boots sinking into soft mud.
She and Dunn unloaded their surveillance and extraction equipment and waved off the chopper, with orders to come in and pick them up out of sniper range from the compound’s tower when they called for it.
Sophie slung on the lightweight backpack packed with everything they had anticipated needing to extract two potentially unwilling children from a hostile, armed compound.
