Wally chuckled as Frankie dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and pushed her tray aside. “You should be used to it by now, Angel.”
Maybe I was, but it didn’t help my mood. No matter how positive Frankie felt about the situation, I was worried. I didn’t want to be the first one to go home, but after hearing how the other candidates handled the active-shooter scenario, I thought that might be exactly what happened.
Chapter Eleven
CANDACE KIM
NSA Headquarters, Fort Meade, Maryland
“Three minutes until we have contact with the Avenger. Everyone, stand by.”
Candace nodded tersely at the technician who returned to monitoring his computer screen. She began to pace the conference room, her nerves on edge. “Are we ready across the board?”
It was Jim Avers who answered. “Yes, ma’am, we are.”
Over the past forty-eight hours, Candace had read Moby Dick and all references to Ahab in the Bible. She’d reread Ethan Sinclair’s file and scoured through dozens of possibly connected NSA operations, none of which were called Ahab or involved whales or biblical kings. Jim had done the same, and neither of them had come up with anything remotely relatable to the situation. If the Avenger was sending them a coded message, he wasn’t making it easy.
Candace did a quick head count of people in the room. Everyone except herself sat in front of a laptop. Nine people. Six technicians, herself, Jim, and Isaac Remington. She would have preferred to lock Isaac out of the investigation, because she neither liked nor trusted him. Although this operation had become hers to run, Isaac was a director and her equal, as well as the former boss of the suspected Avenger. If he was interested in the case—and he was—she had no choice but to include him. She’d almost invited Slash, too, but decided it would be prudent to keep him working on things behind the scenes. He had an enviable track record of success operating that way, so she’d back-brief him later.
One of the technicians lifted a headphone from his ear. “We’re live. We have contact.”
The room silenced, and everyone slid into a seat except for Candace. She preferred to stand so she could pace as needed. She could always think better when she could walk.
“The first transmission is in,” Jim stated, reading the screen. “It’s an email with only one line. It says ‘Ahoy Ahab, what’s going down?’”
“So it was Moby Dick,” Candace murmured. “What does he want?”
“He’s uploading updates on the terrorist activities he’s been monitoring and wants to know if we’ve confirmed the previous information.”
“Tell him we have,” Candace said. “And say thank you.” She was satisfied the Avenger was delivering on his end, and so she wanted to assure him she would come through on her side.
Jim typed the message and sat back. After a minute, he said, “He wants to know about the request for immunity.”
“Tell him the Department of Justice needs clarification on the nature of the immunity he’s requesting,” she said. “It’s a no-go if he’s been involved in murder or treason, even peripherally. But they’re willing to deal, assuming he follows through on providing more verifiable information on the terrorist threat, turns over the ShadowCrypt patch, and conducts no further criminal activity between now and the time he returns.”
After Jim sent the message, a response came back almost immediately. “He says he’s never hurt anyone, nor has he ever aided a terrorist or anyone with harmful intent toward any persons or the US. Nor has he engaged in treason of any kind. The immunity is for real or perceived virtual actions, and he agrees to the conditions.”
Candace nodded. “Perfect. Tell him I’ll contact the Justice Department and get back to him.” She frowned when she saw Isaac typing at his station. “Isaac, what are you doing? You’re not authorized to respond.”
He turned around in his chair. “The Avenger is a liar. He committed treason when he installed the ShadowCrypt patch. He’s allowed terrorists all over the world to hide their plans, certainly costing thousands of lives. That makes him a murderer.”
Why in the world was Isaac going off plan? It was beyond unprofessional to lose control and get emotional in such a situation, jeopardizing the entire operation.
Still in disbelief, she stalked over to his computer. “What did you do?”
“I sent a message. Short and sweet. I told him there were some of us who knew he was lying and were not on board with the immunity offer.”
The room went dead silent.
Anger swept through her. “You did what? You were to observe only. You have no authority to make direct contact.”
His eyes narrowed at her tone. “I’m a director at this agency, just like you. I have every right to protect the agency from this ill-conceived idea of negotiation with a traitor.”
Before Candace could respond, Jim spoke. “He’s not answering, ma’am. He might not be coming back.”
Candace tore her gaze from Isaac. “Can you tell if he’s still there?”
“Hard to say at this point.”
A thousand thoughts whirled through her head, mostly on how she could fix this, but when she spoke, her voice was cool and controlled. “We wait, then.”
While she waited, she considered Remington’s reaction and her options. He was clearly trying to sabotage the deal, but why? He’d made it clear he considered the Avenger a traitor for shutting the back door. But she’d also caught him eyeing her to see how she was reacting to his actions. He was putting on a show, but why and for whom?
A few minutes ticked past. “Anything yet?” she asked.
“No. Nothing,” Jim replied.
More time passed with no contact. Her mind worked furiously to figure out what was going on with Remington. Was he trying to prevent her from bringing in the Hidden Avenger because he wanted to do it himself? It would not reflect well on her if she failed, even if she was not at fault. Regardless, it was disgusting that Remington would risk people’s lives and an invaluable tool solely to advance his own career. Was he really that selfish or stupid? Or could he be afraid of the Hidden Avenger for some reason? Did the Avenger have information that might damage Remington’s chances of becoming director…or was it something else?
She was about to call an end to the operation when an email from the Avenger suddenly popped up on the screen. Jim leaned forward, reading aloud.
“He’s satisfied we’ll see the deal through. The instructions for our next virtual exchange and more information on the terrorists are in an attached file. However, that file will disappear in three minutes.”
“Get it,” Candace instructed, her voice terse as she started pacing again.
“I’ve already got it,” one of the technicians said. “I’ve opened it, and the data is intact. It’s been saved to another server and is safe.”
Thank God, at least something had gone right. “Thank you.”
“He also says the next conversation will be code-named Pope 264.” Jim glanced at her over his shoulder with a puzzled expression. “Whatever that means.”
“I don’t know, but it’s not random,” she answered. “He’s trying to tell us something.”
“No, he’s not,” Isaac countered. “He’s trying to distract us, send us running down a rabbit hole to keep from focusing on what’s real here—that’s he’s a liar, a cheat, and a treasonous former agent gone rogue who doesn’t deserve immunity.”
Candace saw sympathy and agreement from a few of the technicians in the room. Isaac was stirring up things, and she didn’t like it one bit.
She didn’t address his words directly, but ice dripped from her voice as she spoke. “From this point forward, only Jim and one technician will have access to a laptop for communication purposes with the Avenger. Everyone else stands back or is not permitted to attend. Those are my orders. If anyone has an issue with that, I suggest you take it up with the director.”
Everyone nodded, except Isaac. The smug expression on his face said volumes. The damage had
been done. He’d made it known to Sinclair that there were people inside the NSA who weren’t going to make it easy for him to come in. If that spooked him and he bolted, the fallout would be pinned to her.
She wouldn’t underestimate Isaac next time. But she hoped he’d continue to underestimate her.
Chapter Twelve
ANGEL SINCLAIR
“Doesn’t it seem weird we have all this space and they are making us share one room?” I asked Frankie.
While the KIT campus was cool, not to mention completely self-sufficient, it was a bit strange that all of this was just for seven kids. I guess the government had its reasons, but it was a bit unnerving.
After roaming around the area for a while, Frankie and I parted ways with Wally and returned to our room. According to our schedule, dinner was promptly at five. We had about an hour more of downtime before that. I was exhausted and needed some alone time to process all the things that had happened to me to this point. Unfortunately, sharing a room with other people meant alone time was going to be hard to come by. At least Kira wasn’t there, and no one had yet claimed the top bunk across from Frankie and me yet.
Frankie plopped down stomach first on her bed. “It is kind of weird, but I bet they want to see how well we get along with each other. So, what’s your favorite part of the campus? The swimming pool? The gym? Wait, don’t tell me. The gaming room.”
“The gaming room is a pretty sweet setup,” I admitted.
“Well, I liked the garden maze the best. The flowers in the garden were lovely. I like how someone had added a few pumpkins and haystacks, too. It makes it feel so welcoming and normal. Although the swimming pool was amazing, too. Not quite as fancy as Excalibur’s, but nice just the same.”
“Maybe we can go swimming after dinner,” I suggested.
“Great idea.”
Frankie closed her eyes, declaring she wanted to take a nap. I envied her the ability to shut down. I wished I could do the same, but I was too wired. Instead I sat down at my desk, booted up my laptop.
There was no way I’d be stupid enough to search for information on my dad on a government network, but I could read the information I’d already downloaded.
Although I’d already read it a hundred times, I opened the police report on my dad. I flipped to the page where the police discussed my father’s workplace, King’s Security. Wally and I had traced it and discovered it was owned by the NSA. I’d never been told my dad worked for the NSA and apparently neither had the police, because it hadn’t been in the report. My dad’s official title had been security engineer. I knew that meant he would have been responsible for testing and screening computer security software and monitoring networks and systems for potential intrusions. They also implemented and tested strategies to plan and prepare for security threats. But my dad’s background was in cryptology and encryption. Cryptologists created and deciphered codes and cryptograms. So what had my dad been working on when he disappeared?
I googled for inventions and advancements in cryptology around the time my dad disappeared and read until I almost fell asleep at the keyboard. That’s exactly when Frankie woke up and announced we had to go to dinner.
We met Wally in the cafeteria. Everyone was there except for Jax and Kira. I hadn’t seen Kira since lunch, and she lived with us. Where did she disappear to all the time?
After dinner, we invited Wally to go with us to the pool. He declined.
“Are you kidding? I don’t want Kira to see me in my bathing suit. As you can see, I’m not exactly buff.”
“Seriously?” I crossed my arms, frowning. “You’re not going to start pining over Kira, are you?”
“How can I stop myself?” Wally sighed and pressed a hand to his chest. “Have you taken a good look at her? She’s gorgeousness times a million. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in this close proximity. And she’s got to be smart if she’s here. The perfect woman for me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t know anything about her. You just met her. Don’t lose sight of what’s important here.”
“Oh, trust me. I know what’s important. I know you’re going to say I’m overreacting, but I feel like she’s my destiny.”
“Ugh.” I threw up my hands. “It’s lust, Wally. Knock it off.”
Frankie giggled, but Wally crossed his arms and glared at me. “It’s not lust. Well, maybe a little, but you do not know what’s in my heart.”
“Fine,” I said, huffing out a breath. “Your loss. If you don’t want to come swimming, we’ll go without you.”
We got dressed in our swimsuits and headed out. When we got to the gym, Jax and Bo were on the mats wrestling. Kira was in another corner lifting weights. Mike was nowhere in sight.
Jax saw me and waved cheerfully. “Hey, Red, you want to wrestle next?”
“Um, no, thanks.” My cheeks heated. “I’m going swimming.”
“Your loss,” he said grinning as he picked up a towel and swiped it across his brow. “Maybe next time.”
“Sure, maybe,” I called out. Biggest. Lie. Ever. No way was I going to get that close to him.
Frankie and I headed on to the swimming pool, grabbing a couple of towels on our way and dumping them on a chair.
“I think Jax likes you,” Frankie announced.
“What?” I frowned fiercely at her as I pulled my hair back in a ponytail, securing it. “I just met him. How can you extrapolate that?”
She raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t ask me to wrestle.”
I didn’t have an adequate answer to that, so I dived into the pool. We had it all to ourselves, so we swam a bunch of laps and then splashed around a bit. When we got out, Jax and Kira were gone. Bo was in another corner of the gym using a bow and arrow to hit a target. I wrapped myself in a towel and watched him hit the bull’s-eye three times in a row.
Holy crap. He had some mad skills with the bow. He must have felt me watching, because he turned around and gave me a little wave. I waved back, and he resumed his target shooting.
Anxiety swamped me. I’d never used a bow in my life, and I totally sucked at darts. I hadn’t held or fired a gun and didn’t play on any sports teams, other than when forced to do so in gym class. Other than swimming, I had no ability in anything physical, which was kind of scary after watching Bo nail the target time after time.
Frankie was chatting with the lifeguard, so I went into the locker room to change. When I came out, Bo was gone and the lifeguard was closing down the pool.
“The lifeguard is so nice,” she said. “I thought it must be a boring job watching us swim, but he told me he likes the solitude to think.”
“Well, hurry up and get dressed,” I said, a bit irritated I had to wait for her. Did she have to talk to everyone? “We’re the last ones in the gym.”
“Oh, sure,” she said, hustling into the locker room.
The fourth bunk in our room was still empty by the time we finally got back. It looked like it was going to be just the three of us. Kira was just getting out of the shower. She walked into the room, toweling her hair.
“Lights out at ten,” she said shortly and then turned her back on us.
I had no idea what was her problem with us. Her standoffishness was bordering on rudeness.
“We’ve still got an hour,” I said. “But after this day, I won’t have a problem falling asleep.”
“Me neither,” Frankie agreed.
Frankie took her shower next. I followed and then blow-dried my hair. When I got out of the bathroom, Kira was already lying in bed, her back to the room and us. Frankie was sitting on top of the covers, reading. She was dressed in yellow flannel pj’s with green blobs on them. Her wet hair was parted in the middle and rolled up in two socks on either side of her head.
I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “What’s that on your pj’s?”
“Frogs.” She set aside her book and tugged on her sleeve so I could see better. “Did you know frogs are considered good luck in China? They’
re associated with rain. Rain means good crops will sprout. Good crops mean lots of food for the population. Lots of food means happy people. I just figured I could use a little extra luck to start off this new adventure.”
“Okay. And why are there socks in your hair?”
She patted the socks. “I’m going for the crinkly-hair look tomorrow.” She glanced over at Kira, who was lying as still as a stone. There was no way she was asleep with the light still blazing and the two of us talking, but she seemed intent on ignoring us. Frankie and I exchanged a puzzled glance.
“Hey, Kira,” Frankie said. “We didn’t get a chance to talk to you much earlier. What’s your story? How did you end up here? We’re looking forward to being roommates with you.”
She was still for a long moment and then she finally rolled over, propping her head up with one hand. “Look, I know you want to be friends, but I intend to stay focused on what has to be done here. So, no offense if I don’t want to join your posse. Just leave me alone and we’ll be good. Okay?”
“Hey,” I said. “No need to be rude.”
“We’re not a posse,” Frankie said earnestly. “We’re all inclusive. We can help each other, you know.”
“I don’t need your help. Perhaps I wasn’t clear. Leave. Me. Alone.” She rolled over again, pulling the covers over her head.
I clenched my teeth, but Frankie didn’t seem upset in the slightest.
“Angel, can you turn off the lights, please?” Frankie said. “Kira is right. We’d better get to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”
I lifted my hands in a can-you-believe-that gesture. Frankie pursed her lips and looked disappointed in me. Huffing, I dropped my hands and stalked across the room, then banged my fist against the switch as I turned it off. I didn’t know who Kira thought she was, but she was acting like a princess, and my tolerance for that was exactly zero.
Still fuming, I climbed up to my bunk and settled in. I thought I’d be up for hours mulling over everything that had happened over the course of the day, but my last thought was I needed to up my game so I could handle whatever they intended to throw at us in the coming days.
Knight Moves Page 7
