Countermeasure (Countermeasure Series)

by Cecilia Aubrey

  “You just confirmed what I was thinking, Ms. James.”

  “And that would be…?”

  “You have no fucking idea what, if anything, I was….” he flashed a smile, lifting his hands and using his fingers to gesture quotation marks in the air, “‘…doing in your servers.’”

  His laughter, while totally unexpected, ground on her nerves but was simultaneously surprisingly appealing to her ears. She schooled her features and held her emotions in check, but she couldn’t hold back the anger from sparkling in her eyes.

  She wanted to throttle the son of a bitch for destroying her carefully planned interview. Cassandra had expected to come in and pound him with her questions. Instead, he was messing with her. Trying to trip her up each chance he got. The tension in her neck grew as she stood and placed her hands on the table, leaning over him in an attempt to intimidate him, but even that didn’t seem to faze him.

  “You can wipe that smirk off your face, Mr. Bauer. I’m not through with you just yet.”

  Trevor stood and faced her with a thoughtful expression that in a matter of a few seconds transformed into a big, knowing smile. “Nah. That’s where you’re wrong, Ms. James. We’re through,” he said, and walked toward the door.

  Cassandra, realizing he was serious about leaving, intercepted him and firmly grabbed his arm.

  Trevor stopped and looked down at her hand. His thoughts blurred for a split second. Her hand was as soft as it looked and the zing of electricity from her contact was even more potent than he would’ve imagined. His body grew taut in reaction to the images her touch set off in his mind—images of her touching him in more intimate places, leaving him needy in their wake. He scrambled for control and blurted out the first smart-mouth comment he could think of: “Here? Now? On the table?”

  Nathan’s reaction was instantaneous. In two large steps, he barreled into Trevor, grabbed him by the neck with one hand, and shoved him to his back on the table.

  Trevor gripped Captain America’s wrist with his hands. He calmly locked eyes with his furious ones and tried to pry his fingers from around his neck while rasping, “Dude, I think you have serious anger management issues.”

  At the same time, Trevor heard Cassandra James yelling, “Nate! What the fuck!? Cut it out! Let him go, Goddamn it!”

  Her bulldog’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head at her. “He had it coming, Cass. He’s been an ass since we entered the room.”

  Cassandra gripped Nathan’s arm, digging her fingers in deep until his fingers finally loosened their hold. Trevor forcefully flung Nathan’s arm away from him and shoved himself from the table to stand. “A amadáin, you need therapy.”

  Nathan growled and lunged at him again, but Cassandra quickly moved between them and shoved Nathan back with all her strength, “Shit, Nate! Just get the hell out!”

  “Cass…”

  “I don’t want to hear it, just get out. Now!”

  Nathan snapped his mouth shut. With one last glare at both Trevor and Cassandra, he adjusted his well-cut suit and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Cassandra bowed her head and inhaled deeply to gather her composure. After a few seconds, she stood straight, squared her shoulders, and faced him again. Nathan freaking blew it. At this point she would be lucky if she got anything useful out of Bauer. From the belligerent look on his face she knew he was about to follow Nathan out the door and she couldn’t do much to stop him if he did. She quickly decided a change in tactics was in order and softened her approach. It was time to play good cop on her own.

  Trevor caught a hint of something in her eyes, but it disappeared almost immediately as the confident and calm Cassandra James stood once again before him.

  “Listen. Let’s try this again, Okay?”

  Nodding without a word, Trevor sat back against the edge of the table, studying her where she stood with her arms crossed, seemingly gathering her thoughts.

  He considered what little he knew about her. Based on the conversation flagged by Echelon, she had disappointed her boss. From what he observed during his intrusion into the system, he had been impressed by how carefully she had patched and fortified it against a hack. Her work would have stopped a better-than-average industrial hack if Trevor hadn’t been factored into the equation. The commands he had used to get into the system were almost unheard of, part of his own personal arsenal, and as a result she had no chance against someone of his skill or knowledge.

  Since the theft had been deemed an insider job, the fact that someone with access to the data had turned coat was almost unforeseeable and not a direct result of a failure on her part. Yet Cassandra James’s behavior conveyed she was taking the incident a little too personally. Interestingly enough, the more he learned about her, the more he was drawn to her. He knew damn well what it was like to take things personally. They had a few traits in common.

  Cassandra cleared her throat and rubbed at her left hip as if it itched. “Look…I’m sorry about that. Nate…he was a little over the top.”

  “I would’ve been too, if you were mine,” Trevor interrupted.

  She leaned slightly forward and spit out, “I don’t belong to him or anybody else for that matter, Mr. Bauer.”

  Trevor realized by the steel in her eyes that she hadn’t taken his comment in the charming manner he had intended. He was relieved to know she wasn’t involved with Mr. Muscles, but it didn’t change the fact the guy was definitely marking his territory.

  “Tell that to Hulk out there,” he joked with a nod of his head at the door.

  A hint of a smile crept into her eyes. “Hulk?”

  “Yes, Hulk. He looked fucking normal until he exploded in rage and came at me like a linebacker. The only thing missing was the sickly green skin tone. Oh, wait…he did turn green. Right when you ordered him out!” he chuckled.

  A genuine smile curved her lips and took his breath away. It would have knocked him to his knees if he had been standing; as it was, he felt like he had been punched in the gut. It was far worse than Hulk’s tight grip on his neck had been. At that moment she could have asked him anything and he would have gladly given it.

  Cassandra appreciated the fact that Trevor had not been intimidated by Nathan. He had held his own, demonstrating the same calm, cool, cocky attitude she had observed earlier when he was joking with his friend. It definitely supported her assessment that he was comfortable in his skin.

  His transition to friendly conversation gave her the opening she needed and she jumped on it. She sat next to him on the table and turned slightly to face him. “Tell me one thing. Why were you on the server over a week ago?” She looked him in the eye. “You don’t seem the criminal-hack type—even with your crass mouth and smartass attitude.”

  A smile lit his face and he laughed. “Sorry. Old habits from home.” When she frowned he added, “Ireland. Irish. Born and raised.”

  “Ah, that would explain the lilt.”

  “Yeah, I can mask it well, though. Most times I speak good American.”

  “How’s that working for you? It didn’t do you any good a few minutes ago. I seem to recall the word shite.”

  “You caught me by surprise,” he replied with a wicked grin.

  His grin pulled at her heart, which surprised her. She had never had this reaction to someone before.

  “Good to know. So what the hell did you call Nate? It was Irish, right?”

  With a snort, Trevor responded, “A amadáin? It means you fool, but it’s really a polite Irish way of calling someone an asshole. Since there are no assholes in Ireland, we don’t really have a word for them, so that’s what we say.”

  His expression was so serious, Cassandra couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “I’ll have to remember that one. I know a few back home.”

  “A few assholes or Irishmen?”

  “Definitely assholes,” she laughed. Sliding off the table, she walked back to her chair and sat. Laughter aside, it was time to get back to the business at han
d. “Help me, here. I’m trying to understand what an NSA employee would be doing hacking a system from their own work computer.”

  Her laughter was like a warm blanket wrapped around his heart and he had an overwhelming urge to make her laugh more. But the laughter faded and the glimmer of determination to get to the bottom of why he’d been on the server returned to her eyes.

  His stomach burned from the stress of the confrontation; she would be giving him an ulcer if she didn’t stop asking questions soon. The truth about the connection between the NSA and the formula was more than an acceptable answer to her questions. He would just keep his personal reasons for the intrusion to himself. That should give her enough to cool her heels. He moved off the table and took the chair she had originally indicated at the start of the meeting.

  “Okay, Ms. James,” he sighed. “The reason I infiltrated the server was to verify information associated with a flagged conversation we picked up. My co-worker George, the one you saw me talking to when you arrived, received the thread originally. Based on my check, we were able to remove the flag that same day.”

  “What do you mean by ‘flagged’?”

  Trevor considered the ramifications of sharing classified information with her. Since he was fairly certain she was the same Cassandra mentioned in the tagged conversation, he didn’t see anything wrong with exposing that information to her.

  “Our group investigates conversations that Echelon has flagged as suspicious based on a list of priority keywords. Almost two weeks ago, a phone conversation was flagged. Some dumbass picked the wrong choice of words to describe how a person by the name of Cassandra had ‘bombed’ the security around the formula—the same formula you’re asking me about right now.”

  Cassandra’s pulse pounded in her ears. She now knew why he had been so surprised to hear her name. He had heard it before, had known who she was when she had introduced herself. She was mortified. She was fairly certain Jeff had been the dumbass gloating about her failure.

  Anger rippled under her skin again, knowing that he was spreading the news and belittling her to others—but that was so typical of how he rolled. Maybe the next time she saw him she would make that little fantasy of hers a reality and punch him. Shaking her head, she stood and put some distance between her and Bauer while she composed herself and he continued to explain.

  “George and I reviewed the conversation in detail to rule out a link to terrorist activity so that we could remove the flag.”

  Cassandra had counted on Bauer being the key to Allison’s trail, confident that she would be leaving the NSA complex with the information she needed to catch up with her. Instead, her current path resembled a slippery slope on which she slid further and further away from what she wanted most—to fix the mess. Cassandra was compelled to make it right even though she was no longer in charge of the project—her father had not raised a quitter.

  She tried to wrap her mind around his explanation. It still didn’t make sense. His direct eye contact and facial expressions as he answered her questions told her he was giving it to her straight. He admitted he had infiltrated the system, but still, she sensed there was more to the story than what he was letting on, and it irked her. No one would go to such lengths to erase himself from the server unless he was up to no good.

  Cassandra looked him straight in the eye and pressed, “Mr. Bauer, you have to give me a better reason for covertly accessing the system and covering your tracks the way you did. You know what I think? I think you got wind of the formula on your taps and wanted it for yourself.”

  Trevor could almost feel his eyes roll to the back of his head. Frustration was setting in rapidly. Although easy on the eyes, this woman was sharp as a needle. She was wasting his time and keeping him from his job, not to mention getting too close to what he didn’t want to disclose. “Damn, Ms. James, you’re like a dog with a bone. What part of what I said don’t you understand? I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I was there as an NSA Analyst.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I thought that was the only reason you were snooping around. I still want to know what you used to get in the server. I was positive we had sealed all doors.”

  Her comment gave Trevor the excuse he needed to change the direction of their discussion and get her out of his hair. “I have to hand it to you. You’re as tenacious as a rabid dog. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re pretty damn good. It took me a while to find a way in. Very impressive. With your skills, you would have been an excellent asset to NSA—or CIA, for that matter. Ever thought about working for either of them? No? Well, either way, your parents must be very proud of you and your work.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, her face paled and pain slid across her eyes before her expression hardened again. Trevor knew right away that he had said something wrong. Puzzled, he recalled his words but could not find anything that would have been offensive. Holy crap, the woman is nuts. A few simple compliments and he was back to walking on eggshells around her. By the look on her face, his well-meant words appeared to have been taken out of context: she looked like she was about to finish the job Hulk had started earlier. Eyeing her, he knew they needed to finish up that conversation. She was a touchy one. Holding a conversation with her was like hopping on a wild amusement park ride. The kind you came off of never knowing which way was up.

  “If you don’t mind, I have work to do and this little talk has taken a big chunk of my day. If you don’t have any new questions for me, I’m out of here.”

  Now that the conversation was coming to a close, a strange sense of loss filled him at the thought that he would never see Cassandra James again. If they had met under different conditions, he might have taken the opportunity to ask her out. He was fairly sure their conversations over a nice dinner would have been an intriguing learning experience and he would have enjoyed exploring her view of the world, certain her interpretation of it was as unique as the woman herself. As it was, they would be like two ships passing in the night.

  Cassandra had bet all her chips on Trevor Bauer and lost miserably. More than anything, she was pissed at herself. Bauer’s words and flippant dismissal made the bitter pill that much harder to swallow. There was no way in hell she was letting him have the last word, “You’ll still need to send me your report detailing how you got in so I can seal that rabbit hole, Mr. Bauer. Don’t want you falling in there again. I expect to have the report waiting for me by the time I get home tomorrow evening.

  As she turned to leave he commented, “I just might, if I knew where to send it.”

  Her smartass answer matched his own smart mouth: “Hey, you were able to find your way into the server, surely a simple business email can’t be that hard to find.”

  Turning on her heel, she left him standing there as she exited the room. He could’ve sworn he heard “A amadáin!” echoing in her wake.

  Chapter Ten

  Aftermath

  Trevor left the meeting with a big scowl. What the fuck just happened? Back at his desk, he slumped in his chair, lost in thought until the sound of George clearing his throat zapped him back to reality. Trevor slid his eyes from the monitor to George and noticed the concerned, questioning look on his face.

  “Spill. Who was she?” George asked him.

  “A frigging bulldozer, that’s who,” Trevor answered sarcastically.

  His thoughts bounced all over the place. His emotions were divided between a strange immediate attraction to the woman and a deep anger at her for implying that he was a thief and a liar. Ms. James certainly had a talent for rubbing him the wrong way, and yet, strangely, the more she had pressed him, the more he had wanted to prove her wrong, as if deep inside he cared about what she, a stranger, thought of him. At one point he had even wanted her to like him. What the hell is wrong with me?

  There was no doubt he had been floored by her physically. Hell, he could still clearly see her curvy body in his mind’s eye. He wished deeply that it had been his hands that had
followed the path along her body to her whiskey-colored eyes. His mind wandered over conjectures of whether the skin of her slender neck was as soft as it looked and his fingers itched to run along it gently, to prove the hypothesis right.

  Trevor had been most impressed with the brain underneath all that beauty. His curiosity was piqued by the fact she had tracked him using the microscopic trace he had left behind on that damned server. Most sys-admins would never have caught it easily, proving she had some fairly mad observation skills of her own.

  “What did she want?” George interrupted his musings again.

  “Information on a case she’s working.” Trevor was vague. He didn’t want to give George too many details because it would alert him to the fact that he had breached EXClinic’s servers without his knowledge.

  “Is she CIA?” George persisted, not letting go of the bone.

  “Civilian. Private security and investigations.”

  “Is she coming back?” George’s question was like a kick in the balls, forcing Trevor to accept the answer was most likely no.

  “I don’t think so. Why are you asking so many freaking questions?”

  “You had a strange look on your face when you looked at her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at a girl that way before, that’s all.” George sensed that Trevor wasn’t in the mood to talk. With a shrug, he turned his attention back to his work.

  Trevor spent the rest of the day trying to work. His head was a deluge of ideas, hunches, and suppositions as he relived his clash with the intriguing Ms. James. Who is she really? Where did she learn her skills? The more he thought about it and her, the more frustrated he became. By the time he left work that evening, he was in a foul mood.

  ****

  Back in her hotel room, Cassandra popped a Tums in her mouth. Her anger and disappointment had tightened her stomach in knots. She sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes. Holding the edge of the mattress on either side of her, she looked down and watched her feet and toes as she flexed them on the carpet, lost in thought.