Allison pulled him close. “I won’t let any thing happen to you. That’s my word of honor. Now, you need some rest. Will you try?”
“Okay…I’ll try.” Mitchell snuggled next to her and closed his eyes. Soon his breathing was slow and even, signaling he had given in to exhaustion.
Allison hoped their plan would help his confidence for whatever they faced next. It wasn’t much, but hope for a chance to escape was better than nothing.
While Mitchell slept, she looked around their prison. Light seeped through the crack under the door. From what she could see, they were in a small, windowless room. Thin carpet covered the floor. No distinct odors helped her identify where they were. Only the faint, fresh scent of a cleaning product. They could be in a walk-in closet or storage room. She shifted so her back was against the wall, easing Mitchell’s head to cradle in her lap. The floor was hard and uncomfortable, but not as painful as the ache in her heart.
Her damn pride and stubbornness had put her nephew in danger. She should have let Sloan fly to L.A. alone. Her job wasn’t worth Mitchell’s life.
If Mitchell hadn’t been with her, she would have tested the strength of the lock. Alone, she could have devised a plan to make the guard open the door. With her self-defense training, she could attack him and make an escape. Put as much distance as possible between her and the kidnapper. But not with her nephew trapped by her side. She had to consider alternatives to keep him safe.
A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was tired of being strong, of putting on a brave front. It took constant vigilance to keep her emotional wall high, yet Sloan had breached it. Starting small, his influence had worn away at the cracks like a trickle of water, until Allison felt the dam break.
This was the first time she’d let a man get close enough for her to open her heart. And Sloan had betrayed her. It was bad enough he didn’t return her feelings, but then he’d destroyed her trust.
She was alone, now. Mitchell’s life and hers were in the hands of people who would most likely kill them once they got whatever they wanted from her. Tears she’d kept at bay for hours swelled in her throat, spilled down her cheeks, and slipped off her chin. As Mitchell’s head settled onto her lap, Allison stroked his soft hair and prayed for a miracle. Then she swallowed the self-pity and focused on the plan for their escape.
****
The lock on the door clicked. Someone had come for them. Allison swallowed her fear.
Mitchell stirred and sat up. “What—? Aunt Allison?”
“Shh. Stay quiet,” she whispered, wrapping an arm around him. “If they ask questions, let me do the talking. And remember our plan.”
Mitchell rubbed his eyes and nodded.
The door opened. A hulking shadow filled the doorway. “Come with me.” His voice was deep, with a raspy edge.
Knowing this wasn’t the time to push for an advantage, she stood and helped Mitchell to his feet. Taking his hand, they walked out of the little room into a hallway. Another guard stood along the wall, waiting. She glanced around her, and just as she thought, they’d been in a storage closet. It appeared to be the last room along the hallway. The only exit was ahead of them.
They followed the first guard down the corridor as the second guard joined in behind them. Allison counted three doors as they passed. One to the left and two on the right—all closed. Ahead, the room opened into a main foyer and there was the exit. So close. If only she could make a run for it without endangering Mitchell.
“Don’t think about it.” The guard behind her must’ve seen her tense. “I have orders to not injure your fingers, but I can make other places hurt.”
The first guard looked over his shoulder with a frown, then crossed the foyer and opened a set of matching wood doors. “In here.”
In contrast to the little closet where they’d been held, this room was open and spacious. Reflective fluorescents in the ceiling provided subtle lighting. Two flat-screen monitors sat on a large cherry-wood table in the center of the room. Several network servers, secured in a rack, hummed along the far wall. The room was windowless and cold—the only way in or out was through the door she and Mitchell entered with the guards.
Having determined her exit options were non-existent, she turned her attention to the state-of-the-art computer systems. She’d never seen a setup like this. Even Northstar’s top-of-the-line systems didn’t compare. Some of the units looked like prototypes straight from the developer’s drawing board.
“Wow.” Mitchell gave a low whistle.
Allison squeezed his hand in reply and he looked at her, but didn’t say anything more.
“If you like these babies, wait until you see what’s inside.”
A voice drew her attention from the machines to a man leaning against a wall. He was of average height and build, about her age. Average looking in almost every way—except his eyes.
It took a moment, then pieces of the giant jigsaw finally dropped into place.
It was Drew Sullivan. A fellow gamer. And her last disastrous blind date.
He’d questioned her about Northstar, proclaiming her job had to be the best ever for helping people. She’d generously—stupidly—suggested he apply for a job. Was that how the breach made it through Northstar’s firewall? Had he planted something when he applied for the job? If so, how? Security was as tight inside the building as it was out.
“Drew Sullivan.”
“Actually, it’s Drew Getty.” He waited a beat, obviously expecting Allison to recognize his name.
She stared at the same egotistical expression that had intimidated her on their date. The reason why she’d never agreed to a second.
Then they’d met again at the gaming convention where she took first place for her design on the Warrior Code. Drew had taken second with his game on alien battles. He hadn’t looked as arrogant then—just vengeful. At the time, she’d brushed off his reaction as envy. She realized now she’d been wrong to ignore the true emotion behind his stare.
Drew studied her as though analyzing her reaction. Something warned her to remain composed. She stayed quiet, hoping he would find the silence awkward and start talking. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Apparently,” Drew snarled. “My name means nothing to the talented Miss Allison Richards.”
She winced at the distant memory of Sloan using almost those same words. Talented, my foot. Just look at where my talent landed me and Mitchell.
Drew pushed away from the wall and sauntered toward them. “Don’t you want to know why you’re here?”
Allison refused to take the bait. When she didn’t answer, Mitchell looked at her curiously. He obviously took her silence as his cue to stay quiet also.
“Cat got your tongue?” Drew’s eyebrows rose toward his thinning hairline. “Oh well, it won’t be for long. I promise we’ll hear that sweet voice of yours soon.” He turned to one of the guards. “Please get Mother. She wanted to be here for this.”
The guard turned and walked across the room. He spoke briefly to the other guard who’d taken a post outside the door, then came back inside and resumed his position next to the door. His hulking presence precluded any lingering thoughts of escape.
Instead, Allison crossed to the table that held the monitors, keeping Mitchell close by her side. The screensaver, a scene of dolphins playing in the surf, shimmered on both screens. “Nice systems.” She reached out a finger to tap a key. Any movement should stop the screen saver and allow her to see what lay beneath.
Instantly, Drew was next to her, gripping her wrist. “No. No. No. Don’t touch.”
In those few seconds, she gathered valuable tidbits of information. First, for an average-looking individual, he had speed. Second, his strong grip was malicious. He obviously enjoyed inflicting pain.
Allison twisted her wrist and leveraged it against his thumb until he couldn’t hold the grip. He jerked his hand back as if being bitten and glared at her.
She glanced over at the guard. He hadn’t budged. Apparen
tly, the guard didn’t see her as a threat. Another tidbit she filed away. She had no idea if any of this information would provide a possible escape scenario, but it was better than knowing nothing.
She stepped away from the table, still holding Mitchell’s hand.
“Poor Allison.” Drew’s tone belied his words. “These pretty systems are so tempting, aren’t they? You’ll get your turn on them, I promise.”
The door opened and Drew literally snapped to attention. Allison turned to see the other guard enter the room pushing a woman in a wheelchair.
She was a striking woman of indeterminate years. Her red silk pantsuit barely held a crease. As the guard and the woman drew closer, Allison realized the woman was older than she appeared at first glance. Her carefully made-up face and perfectly coiffed blonde hair gave the illusion of youth. The woman’s regal bearing made her appear to be riding a throne.
“May I introduce my mother, Carol Weston.”
Allison frowned. The surname sounded familiar, but with so many questions racing around in her brain, any connection eluded her.
The woman inspected Allison as carefully as Allison studied her. Then, with a blink, Allison was dismissed as some inconsequential object.
“Drew, dear, there is no way this girl is better with computers than you.” Obvious contempt marred her perfectly modulated voice.
“Of course she’s not better, Mother. I never said she was.” Drew’s shoulders seemed to tense. “I told you, she has information I don’t have access to. That’s why we need her.”
Well, that’s one question answered. Her presence apparently involved computers. Then another, more terrifying thought surfaced. Once they didn’t need her, both she and Mitchell would be killed. She remembered what happened to Agent Kane. These people weren’t above committing murder.
“Fine.” Carol Weston waved a contemptuous hand. “Let’s get started. We’re wasting precious time.”
Mrs. Weston nodded toward one of the guards. He moved so quickly Allison didn’t have time to react. In a heartbeat, Mitchell was ripped from her grasp and dragged over to the woman.
“How thoughtful of you to bring this fine young man along.” She grabbed Mitchell’s arm and squeezed. Her knuckles went white from the pressure she applied to his slender arm.
Allison saw pain fill Mitchell’s face, but he didn’t cry out.
“Such a brave little boy, too. Surely you don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”
“Don’t do anything, Aunt Allison. Whatever they do to me, don’t give in,” Mitchell said, then cried out as Mrs. Weston’s nails bit into his flesh.
“Let him go!” She would protect Mitchell at any cost. Whatever they wanted from her wasn’t worth Mitchell’s life. She calculated the chances of them both getting out of this situation alive carried a value of null. She had to prolong the circumstances, increase those odds by finding an opportunity to escape.
In a slightly more meek voice, she said, “Just tell me what you want.”
“There, you see?” Mrs. Weston looked at Drew. “Cooperation.” She eased her grip on Mitchell’s arm but didn’t release him.
“What do you want?” The distance between Allison and Mitchell tore at her heart, and the marks on his arm made her furious.
Drew pulled out a chair in front of the computers. In a gentlemanly fashion, he gestured for Allison to sit.
She hesitated, looking from Drew to Mitchell, still held tightly in the woman’s grasp. Then she sat primly in the chair, defiantly folding her hands in her lap. “I’d like Mitchell next to me.” I have to keep him away from that bitch.
“When we’re finished,” Drew replied.
Allison nodded. She hadn’t expected a different answer, but she had to try. She faced the dual monitors and placed her hands lightly on the keyboard, waiting.
Drew leaned in and moved the mouse. At the slight motion, the screen saver disappeared on the first monitor. She scanned the data, glanced up at him, and then back at the screen. Unbelievable! She almost spoke the thought out loud.
The information on the first monitor answered many of Allison’s questions. This can’t be real.
Allison stared at the lines of text. Every IP address she’d logged into while testing her work, months of trial and error stared back at her. This state-of-the-art computer system had recorded her every keystroke. Had he installed a keylogger on her Northstar systems somehow?
Her vision blurred. A sense of defeat filled her. Her chest felt bitter cold. She finally understood how they had tracked her to the FBI safe house, and how hard it would be to escape.
“You see.” Drew’s triumphant expression was sickening. “You’re not as good as you think.” He pressed another key and a window popped open on the second monitor. This screen displayed lines of code.
Allison scanned the algorithms—she was reading her own work. Drew had used a method identical to hers. When she had broken into the manufacturer’s database to find the addresses of the computer purchases for Sloan, she’d left a trail back to the physical location of the safe house. That’s how Drew found us.
She scanned more lines of code. A chill rode down her spine. Drew Getty had been at least one step ahead of her the entire time.
Chapter Sixteen
Allison shivered. The temperature inside Drew Getty’s computer room seemed to drop several more degrees. She blinked at the data on the screen, but it didn’t change. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The address she’d given Sloan was to a clone. A fake! Courtesy of Drew Getty.
Had Sloan, Tom, and the FBI agents been ambushed at the bogus address? Allison’s tip may have sent them to their deaths. Bone-numbing cold seeped into her body and she started to shake. She curled her fingers into her palms and squeezed her fists for control. More questions burned, but she waited. If she gave away her thoughts, her feelings, Drew would use that as leverage against her. If she stayed silent, he might freely share more information.
One of the things she remembered during that disastrous blind date was how much he liked to talk. He had an overabundance of confidence in his ability and enjoyed flaunting his knowledge. With patience on her part, he would think he held the upper hand. With luck, he might expose more of his plan.
If he did, she hoped to stop him.
Drew leaned against the table. “You have such unimaginative code. It was easy to copy.” He gave her a satisfied smirk. “I forged an e-mail from O’Neal to Delano, suggesting he review all of Northstar’s internal code for a potential insider job.”
“It shouldn’t have mattered,” Allison replied. “I suggested we look at an inside job months ago. We couldn’t detect the breach.” Her protest blurted out before she could stop herself. “Besides, all of Northstar’s e-mails are encrypted. You need a passkey to open and read them.”
He pressed a few more keys and a window popped open. Allison stared again in disbelief at Northstar’s passkey.
“A Trojan, Allison.”
She hated the sound of her name on his lips.
A Trojan—a little program running quietly on the Northstar computer systems—this one designed to allow an outsider to read every keystroke she entered. Somehow, her scans had missed the malware. Drew could have been recording everything they’d done for the last three months, maybe longer.
“I am the master puppeteer,” he said. “I pull the strings. Of course, I made certain your footprints were all over the hacks. Tom Delano would have been blind not to notice. It was only a matter of time before O’Neal demanded an explanation.”
“How?”
Drew laughed. “I monitored every e-mail sent or received from your office. I set up the cruise for a Mr. and Mrs. Tallon—your sister, I believe—and orchestrated the opportunity for your vacation. How nice of you to make it look as though you were running away. O’Neal couldn’t help but see your guilt.” Drew tapped the top of the monitor. “Once O’Neal ordered you to L.A.…well, the rest was just a matter of following your trai
l. Hacking into the FBI systems was a piece of cake once you broke into my clone. They didn’t even bother hiding the safe house address.” He made a tsking sound. “To think they’re guarding our country’s interest. What I don’t understand, is why they didn’t lock you up?”
Allison almost blurted out Sloan’s name. He was the reason she hadn’t been arrested the minute they landed in L.A. She looked away and remained silent.
“No matter.” Drew shrugged. “It worked out better for me. O’Neal told Delano to keep an eye on you and get proof you were a traitor. It seems O’Neal still has some doubts about your guilt.”
Allison silently digested that last statement. Byron O’Neal usually made decisions and executed plans without reservations. She was surprised to learn he had doubts.
“Was the clone’s address an ambush as well?” Allison hoped she didn’t sound too vested in the answer.
“No.” Drew shook his head. “The clone was set up to bounce my signal and act as a decoy. When the cavalry raided the location, they left you all alone.”
“We weren’t alone.” Mitchell strained against the hold on his arm, his face filled with frustration. “Agent Kane was there.”
“What a good protector he was, too.” Drew’s sadistic grin made Allison shiver. “We made you disappear right under their noses.” He leaned in and whispered. “Everyone doubts your loyalties. You’re screwed, dear Allison.”
After seeing the data, she was sure he was right. Except for one thing. She wasn’t screwed. Not while she and Mitchell were still alive. She would find a way out of this situation. “This is very elaborate.” She gestured to the computer setup. “You went to a lot of trouble to frame me for the hacks. Why didn’t you kidnap me sooner?”
“Ah, that’s the brilliance of it all. Mother wanted to kidnap you, or one of the other Northstar techs, from the beginning. But that would’ve raised suspicion. They would’ve come looking for you too soon, and may have found us before we were ready. I convinced her that a sting would be more fruitful. We set you up, and led everyone merrily down the path, believing one of Northstar’s own betrayed them.”
Breaking the Honor Code Page 17
