Technical Risk

by Sidney Bristol

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. I need you presentable in half an hour.”

  Miles opened and closed his mouth. He wanted to know. Or did he?

  “This way.” Bennett sidestepped in front of Miles into what appeared to be a vacant office of some sort.

  He followed. There wasn’t any other option.

  Was she going to eliminate him to make a headache go away?

  Miles turned to face the woman, conscious of the sweat running down every surface of his body and the way his clothes stuck to him.

  Bennett regarded him with cold eyes. “I understand you’re on desk duty at the moment.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He clasped his hands in front of him, squeezing the water bottle.

  “I know you like to work alone in the field, so this won’t be a reward, Green. You’re going to babysit some Americans.”

  God, this was worse than death.

  Miles did not play well with others. He liked being in the field, getting his hands dirty. Worst case, he was in charge and could be as hands-on as he liked.

  This was going to be hell.

  “I can see you like this about as much as I thought you would.” Bennett crossed her arms over her chest. “They’re after Valentino.”

  Miles started. “Valentino?”

  “Yes, and they won’t share. This isn’t like them. Something is up. I want to know what’s going on and I want our people to catch Valentino. Not theirs. Understand? They can have him when we’re finished with him.”

  He swallowed. Part of him wanted to ask if she was joking, but he knew better than to ask that question. She was serious. He was being tasked with finding Valentino. A hacker.

  “I’m not cyber, ma’am,” he said slowly.

  “No, you aren’t. But you’ve worked with these people before. They requested you. And I need to put someone with them I can trust. Don’t make me regret this, Green.” Her gaze flicked down to his sodden shirt. “Get cleaned up. They’ll be here soon.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  His stomach sank.

  People he’d worked with that had requested him.

  A few weeks ago he’d had some odd questions from an American contact. He’d verified that the person requesting the information had clearance and was who they’d claimed to be, but hadn’t given it another thought. He couldn’t even put a face with the name, but the reports hadn’t lied. No doubt he’d blocked that whole operation out of his mind.

  That job couldn’t end fast enough for him.

  The door shut behind Bennett.

  Was it those same people again? What circle of hell was he in that he’d have to work with those people again?

  Miles shook his head, sweat falling onto his brow, and exited the office. He jogged to the locker room, pulling off his shirt and strategizing.

  If he had to work with these people, he wasn’t going to let them get their way the whole time.

  Valentino. Or more accurately, V413n71n0.

  Everyone wanted that bastard. They had almost all of cyber hunting the guy. Half the headlines were still talking about the hack that had derailed two trains, causing them to collide. The casualties and damage were staggering. And this wasn’t the first time they’d heard of the hacker who called himself Valentino.

  Most of Europe and not a small portion of the Americas had fallen victim to one of Valentino’s hacks or another.

  And Miles was going to catch the mother fucker.

  MONDAY. THAMES HOUSE Security Service Headquarters. London, United Kingdom.

  Diha Balakrishnan smoothed her hand down the long, blue kurta she’d worn today. It was her favorite gift from her more fashionable sister. The short sleeved garment was a rich, shimmering navy blue with a cascade of gold embroidered leaves clinging to one shoulder and falling in a pile down her left side with a few dotting the hem swirling around her calves. She’d paired the garment with yellow leggings and her brand new red ankle boots. It was flashy for Diha, who was not normally one to call attention to herself.

  “Say it with me.” Cat, Diha’s lab assistant and friend, hooked her arm in Diha’s. “You are a badass and you kick ass.”

  Diha peered sideways at Cat as they waited for the crosswalk sign. “That’s a lot of, well...”

  “Ass?” Cat grinned at her.

  “I should never have let you talk me into this.” Diha pressed a cool hand to her heated cheeks. It was September in London and while it wasn’t cold, it was a misty gray day.

  “I am so glad you did.” Cat squeezed Diha’s hand.

  “How are you so chipper?” she muttered.

  They’d landed at almost midnight and she’d quickly poured herself into bed. Add in the time change and the fact that she couldn’t sleep on the trans-Atlantic flights and Diha was feeling more than a little frazzled.

  “Coffee,” Cat said.

  The crosswalk light changed and she pulled Diha along with her, going with the flow of a dozen other pedestrians.

  “So, when do you think we’ll see him?” Cat whispered.

  “I don’t know that we will. And if we do, he won’t notice or remember me. So what’s the point of all this?” Diha tugged the red scarf a little lower on her brow.

  Neither of them had remembered to pack an umbrella, so she’d made do with what she had while Cat just pulled the hood of her jacket up.

  “Well, he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you this time. Hot mama’s going to make an impression!” Cat bumped Diha’s hip as they walked.

  She almost stumbled into someone. She steadied herself and glared at her friend. “Remind me again why I hired you?”

  Cat just grinned back. “Because you like me.”

  Diha had worked briefly with Cat once when she’d still been with the FBI. Cat was brilliant at what she did, but not careful enough about her mouth. She’d said the wrong thing in front of one too many people and wound up fired. But that had worked out in Diha’s favor. She’d scooped Cat up as an independent contractor for the task force, someone Diha could trust completely, which was valuable considering there was a mole in their midst. It wasn’t public, but one of Cat’s main responsibilities was investigating and tracking their own people in an effort to figure out who it was.

  The unintended consequence of hiring Cat had been the friendship.

  Before, when Diha worked for the CIA resetting passwords, she hadn’t any female friends in their industry. The few women she had regular contact with were secretive and more interested in climbing the ladder than working together.

  Things were different on the task force.

  There wasn’t a ladder to climb, just bad guys to catch.

  It took away some of the toxic pressure she’d felt before and left room for other things. Like friendship.

  “Felecia still wants us to video chat her tonight and tell her how it goes,” Cat said.

  “We likely won’t have time for that.” Diha needed to put these silly ideas about making a man notice her and focus on the job. What she was here for. Namely, finding the next piece of their puzzle.

  The hacker V413n71n0.

  He was the only name both of their informants had shared. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was something. And considering that Valentino had just derailed several commuter trains just outside London six weeks ago, this was the best place to pick up the trail.

  That should be Diha’s focus.

  Not Miles Green.

  There was just something about the man. She couldn’t say what it was. He’d ignored her, never spoken to her, and likely didn’t know she even existed. And yet, as she’d listened to him and watched him, she couldn’t help the pure, unadulterated lust she’d felt for him.

  He was completely out of her league. No amount of pretty clothes or make-up would make Diha into anything except for the quiet, bookish girl she’d always been. She didn’t want to change. But it would be nice if she were noticed. That was all she really wanted. To be seen.

  Unfortunatel
y, her two girlfriends had taken that whispered confession after three too many glasses of wine as a challenge, and here Diha was. Her hair had been professionally conditioned and straightened. Her nails had been done. Cat pushed more make-up on her than she knew what to do with.

  At least the clothes were her own. That was one thing Diha hadn’t been about to budge on. Her clothes were comfortable, even if they weren’t mainstream fashion. Regardless of how Miles Green made her girlish parts tingle, it didn’t matter if he—or any man—took issue with how she presented herself.

  “Here we go,” Cat squealed as they reached the front doors of the Thames House that served as the headquarters for Security Services, or MI6.

  Diha pushed her shoulders back and entered the building.

  They checked in with the security desk and went through a brief screening before being admitted into the building proper. Diha found herself staring around her at the polished floors and the walls that had no doubt seen decades of secrets.

  “I think we have a contact, right?” Cat said, breaking into Diha’s thoughts.

  “What? Oh, yes, but I’m not entirely sure who we are supposed to call.” She leaned on the desk.

  “It says here,” the woman spoke slowly, squinting at her monitor. “Mr. Green. One moment.”

  Diha’s mouth dried up.

  Cat squeezed her hand.

  “Hi, Mr. Green?” the woman said into her phone. “Oh, yes, they’re here. You’re on your way up? I’ll let them know, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Cat said in a sing-song voice then dragged Diha a little distance away.

  Oh, Lord. Oh, no.

  “Say it with me, I am awesome,” Cat whispered.

  Diha drew in a calming breath and whispered to herself, I am awesome.

  Two years ago she’d been depressed about where she was in life. Now she was a major force in a joint operation. Decisions were left up to her. She was awesome. And if a man like Miles Green didn’t see that, his loss. Not hers.

  “Oh, my, word. Tell me that’s him,” Cat whispered.

  Diha glanced up and stared at the tall, broad shouldered man striding toward them. He was every bit as imposing as she recalled, what with those serious brown eyes and perfectly styled hair. And he was looking at her.

  MONDAY. THAMES HOUSE Security Service Headquarters. London, United Kingdom.

  Miles strode down the hall. There were only two women this side of the security check-point. They had to be the first wave of the American team he’d been warned about. A list of names scrolled through his head, but only one stood out right now.

  Diha Balakrishnan.

  Before this moment, he couldn’t place the name. But now that he saw her, he had a vague memory of a shy, mousey woman.

  Funny, when he thought about that operation before this moment, he couldn’t place her there. But seeing her here filled in that hole.

  He was struck with the strangest memory. The team had been gathered to hash out some details. They’d taken a short break and he recalled turning and his gaze landing on her. She’d been pouring herself tea. She was the only person at the table who hadn’t spoken, and he’d sat there wondering if she spoke at all. What purpose did she serve? What use was she? To be part of the team she’d been on meant she had to be both intelligent and capable, but she’d been a mystery to him then and now.

  She’d also dressed differently.

  It was an odd thing to remember, but he could see it now. She’d worn simple, professional clothes that helped her fade into the background of other people in black and white suits. They were almost a disguise. It was as if she were trying to not draw attention to herself, and yet anyone who looked past the clothes and shyness would see the beautifully formed creature looking back at them.

  That was what he’d realized watching her pour tea.

  It was what he was seeing now.

  Her face was the same. Bold brows. Large brown eyes. High cheekbones. Pointed chin. And a long black braid swinging with the motion of her body.

  All of that was the same, and yet there was something different about her.

  She wasn’t pulling the shadows around her, as if to fade from notice. No, she...shone.

  There was no light radiating from her, it was just how she carried herself. Head up. Shoulders back. It was as if a sculptor had breathed life into his masterpiece, making it human.

  What had happened to make her change this much? He wanted to know everything, absurd as that sounded.

  Diha turned her head then, and their gazes locked. He thought he saw her eyes widen a bit.

  He knew she had someone else with her. An American woman with unnaturally red hair and a too-loud laugh. But that woman hardly registered. He couldn’t force himself to look anywhere else.

  Diha was stunning.

  He thrust his hand forward in an attempt to cover his rude staring. “Miles Green.”

  She blinked at his hand, breaking the spell finally, and placed her small palm in his. “Nice to meet you again, Mr. Green.”

  She had a soft, melodic voice he wanted to hear more of. What were the chances she’d speak more this time? Or was this a fluke?

  “Hi,” the other woman said far too loudly. “I’m Cat with a C.”

  Diha started, as if she’d forgotten the woman was there.

  Miles regretfully let go of Diha’s hand and quickly offered the same greeting to Cat.

  “Hello, Cat with a C. I’m supposed to show you where you can set up.” He was grateful they had something to be about, otherwise he might have stood there staring at Diha all morning.

  He had a sneaking suspicion that would be far more pleasant than what they were going to engage in. They weren’t exactly on the same side in this, a fact he needed to remember.

  “Yes, thank you,” Diha said with a gracious nod of her head.

  He glanced down at the two small bags they each had. “Is there anything else you’d be bringing with you?”

  “No, just this.” Diha patted the laptop bag slung over her shoulder.

  “May I carry that for you?” He held out a hand.

  Diha clasped the strap with both hands. “No, thank you.”

  “This way then.” He gestured for them to follow.

  Miles turned his back on the women and led them toward the elevators.

  According to the email he’d been sent, they were being given basement rooms to operate out of. Not the nicest, but if they were trying to work in secret, it made sense. It would also put Diha as far away from him as possible while they were each doing their job. Unless he moved down to work with them.

  It would all depend on who he had working for them, something still not decided.

  He prayed the people at the top of his list were available and in the office today. For a job like this, they needed the best. So why was he on the job? Because they’d requested him? Why?

  They stepped into the elevator and he used his keycard to gain access to the lower levels. The door slid shut, closing the three of them in.

  Another memory hit him out of nowhere. He’d been in an elevator full of people, and Diha had stood directly in front of him. He’d stared at her long, glossy black braid. He hadn’t touched it or her. That would have crossed too many boundaries. But he recalled wanting to. There had been something about her, something fragile that he dared not investigate.

  The woman across from him now was no fragile bird. She might be quiet and reserved, but there was also a strength to her.

  What had happened?

  He wanted to know things he had no right to. Not five minutes ago he couldn’t have recalled this woman, and now he felt a burning desire to discover everything he could.

  “I must admit I was surprised to learn that your team had requested me.” He wrestled his mind back to the task. He was supposed to learn what they knew. Might as well start somewhere. It was this or ask her to divulge her life’s story, and he didn’t think that would be appropriate.

  What the hell wa
s wrong with him?

  She was a beautiful woman. That shouldn’t make him lose his wits. Yet here he was mooning over her hair. He mentally kicked himself.

  It had to be the stress of the last few days. That was it and nothing more.

  Diha’s brow rose. “Oh, that was Zora’s call. I just follow orders.”

  “I see.” That told him nothing.

  NSA Agent Zora Clark.

  That was a name that stuck out a lot like a hangnail. He barely managed to contain his grimace.

  Yeah, he remembered working with her. It hadn’t been enjoyable. Most people who worked between agencies knew how to share. Not Zora Clark. Everything was a one-way street with her.

  They reached their floor and Miles got off, holding the door for the two ladies.

  “This way.” He gestured and started walking.

  There weren’t many people down here. They passed a few areas that he pointed out like the bathrooms, stairs and a break room before reaching the designated area. He opened the doors and let the ladies enter what would become their war room, in more ways than one. If Zora would be part of this, he was willing to bet they’d do battle over the long table set up down the middle of the room.

  “Now, where do we start?” he asked once the door was shut. He’d seen mention of a joint briefing later today, but he wanted to know more by then. Much more.

  Diha glanced over her shoulder at him. Was it his imagination or were her lashes really that thick?

  “You’ll have to speak with Zora. I’m afraid I can’t tell you much,” she said apologetically.

  “What can you tell me?” He followed her as she flipped on lights in the adjacent rooms.

  “Hm, not much.” Her attention was no longer on him. In fact, he felt as if she’d dismissed him from her mind.

  Well, that wasn’t going to work for him.

  He slid his hands into his pockets. “We’re supposed to be working together and yet you can’t tell me anything?”

  She turned to face him, laptop bag clasped with both hands. “I’m sorry, Mr. Green, but everything as to go through Zora.”

  “We’re a team that can’t speak to one another?” He tilted his head.

  She didn’t shrink from him. Not one bit. She looked right back at him and spoke, “That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just, until we’ve had the briefing and Zora can present everything in the most logical manner, you and I would just talk in circles.”