Encrypted (40 page)

Devlin
sneered. “Through Yahoo and purchase histories on Amazon?”

“Well, Dr.
Rolph
?” The Director’s eyebrow shot up. “That data does seem slightly broader than I gave you permission for.”

“Permission?” Devlin spat out. “She’s committed felony espionage.”

An elbow poked Amanda in the back. Damn Jennifer.

“I…I…” Amanda said
,
still not sure how she was going to explain it. How far she had come. A day ago she would
have
stammered for ten minutes. Two days ago
,
she would have just run from the room. Now? Now she would rather ask forgiveness than permission. “I need the data.”

“Jesus, give it up,”
Devlin
snapped. “The CIA is all over this.”

Henderson rose. “You mean like the CIA withholding vital information regarding the spread of the plague to America within twelve hours? The theory that if we possibly hadn’t ignored could have saved millions upon millions of lives.””
Devlin
opened his mouth to argue but Henderson overrode him. “At this point
,
Amanda gets to follow just about any hunch she wants.”

With that the large man hefted himself from the chair.

“Thank you, sir,” Amanda responded.

As he walked past
,
he nodded. “You are welcome. Although it is I who should be thankful that we have a Chicken Little in-house.”

Amanda wasn’t quite sure if that was
much of a compliment. As soon as Henderson was out of earshot,
Devlin
turned on her.

“Don’t get too comfy in your role of teacher’s pet,” he hissed. “My director will be weighing in.”

Politics. It was like being in grade school all over again. Yet, she liked how brave she felt standing up to
Devlin
. He truly did inspire her to be a stronger person. “Yes, well, given that we are in the worst pandemic the world has ever known, I’m pretty sure
that
my director can beat up your director.”

Jennifer snorted behind her.

She met
Devlin
’s angry gaze. “Are we done here?”

The man stormed out. Amanda guessed that was his answer. She turned to her assistant
,
who wore a look about as proud as Amanda felt.

“So now that we don’t have to be on the down low, let’s really start digging into non-affected population movements.”

* * *

Quirk really didn’t like working in the field. Like, an actual field. With a herd of goats that had decided to see what all the fuss was about. As if it weren’t hard enough to try
to
throw together a sat phone after three quarters of your stuff got toasty-fried in a crash, you had to keep the various components away from a nanny goat.

A
ding
brought him back to his phone. The text read,
I wouldn’t recommend getting the plague. No fun. Just FYI.

Quirk texted back
,
trying to keep anxiety from reaching his words.
“Oh
,
please. You’ll say anything to get out of work.”

The next time I see you, I’ll be sure to cough on you.

Oh, Jennifer knew how to get back at him. She knew even the thought of such a travesty would make the hairs on his neck stand on end. Luckily
,
he knew how to get right back at her. Like he was going to let the fact
that
she was plague stricken stop him from winning this little exchange.

And I will remind you of your last attempt to get rid of that pesky cellulitis on your thighs.

No response. Had he been too cruel? But come on, trying to smear cottage cheese, real cottage cheese
,
on your legs to make your own cottage cheese go away? Quirk knew the advice had come from a glossy wom
e
n’s magazine, but
come on
.

He was about to text when Jennifer’s response
came
through.
Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.

Quirk ran his thumb over the screen. To have a friend in such pain…

“Looks like somebody is coming,” the FBI agent said
,
as he gazed through the high
-
definition binoculars that only had one lens working.

Scanning the horizon, Quirk couldn’t see anything. “Perhaps it’s a mirage.”

Heat drifted up in waves as the late
-
afternoon sun beat down upon them.

“Nope,” Zach answered. “I’m pretty damned sure that is a truck’s exhaust.”

Quickly Quirk typed,
Get rest. I will teach you to dare
to
exchange barbs with a gay man later.

Closing the window, Quirk looked out over the rolling hills and
,
as Zach indicated
,
there appeared to be a vehicle approaching. Yet
,
that couldn’t be. Quirk was still waiting for the satellite
that
they
hadn’t
knocked out to come into position. The FBI agent rose and handed him the scope. It was the first time in hours
that
the man had moved away from Ronnie’s side. Quirk could sympathize
,
though. He too
,
used to stand vigil over her
—
until he realized that is was just plain boring to sit around and watch a chick type really fast. Zach would learn.

Quirk took the binoculars and squinted one eye. Sure enough
,
an old
,
beat
-
up pickup hauled ass in their direction. Maybe it was just a farmer looking for his goats.

But wait. Was that a pair of sooty long johns
that
Quirk spotted
?

“He is drawn to me,” Quirk said as he handed the binoculars back.

Zach took them back. “Yes, but is that a sawed
-
off shotgun on the rack?”

Even if it was, Quirk knew
that
the pilot would never use it. Their bond was far too strong.

Within moments
,
Quirk didn’t need any sight aid. The truck came into clear view. How his heart went aflutter as the burly man barreled toward them. Quirk began shooing away the goats and gathering his equipment. His knight
in
shining armor had arrived.

Zach
,
on the other hand
,
stood in front of Ronnie, scowling at the approaching vehicle as if his searing glare alone could protect her. Guess all those meds had kicked in.
T
he FBI agent only looked beat
en
up
,
rather than done for.

The truck bounced and jostled over the rough terrain
,
yet the pilot sat
ever
-
so
-
cool
in the front seat. Quirk was so ready by the time the truck skid
ded
to a halt in front of them. “Hi
,
there.”

“Get in.”

God, how Quirk liked a man of action.

Zach eyed the shotgun. “Look, buddy, we don’t want any
—
”

“I’m taking you as far as an ATM at the border so you can put some kind of down payment on building back my bird,” the pilot grumbled in his gravel
l
y voice. “After that
,
you can worry.”

“Told
ya
!” Quirk said just to rub it in. “Help me load up.”

But the FBI agent turned to Ronnie
,
who still had that “I’ve left this realm” look about her. But who cared? That meant
that
Quirk got to jump in and ride next to the pilot.

Like he said. His day was looking up.

* * *

Ronnie could hear sounds
,
but her brain simply ignored them
,
s
hunting those electrical impulses away. They had no place here. The only items her brain chose to let through the filter of her mind’s eye were the symbols. They blazed before her, brilliant in their glory, fierce in protecting their secrets. She could swear
that
they were
so deeply
etched in the back of her retinas
that
they felt a part of her.

Each red corpuscle coursing through her veins was afire with the symbols
—
nearly carrying as much oxygen as her blood. They tumbled and sped, taunting her. Teasing her. Luring her deeper and deeper into
their
game. They were like putty in her hands
—
only
the
putty refused to create the masterpiece she envisioned.

For all their familiarity, they
were
still an inch out of reach. Kind of like how she would stare so hard at Zach’s image, straining to make him come alive in her world.

Zach.

The voice. Was it Zach?

She could feel the tug toward the world she had left behind. Yet how could she leave the swarming symbols without understanding their secret
s
?

Her body shook,
and
then shook again, knocking her fingers from the keyboard.

“Ronnie,” a voice called.
A deep voice.
A man’s voice.
Zach’s voice?

Roused by the baritone, she let the symbols slip away. Like bright, beautiful sand through her fingers
,
the code slid through, leaving no trace
that
it had been there before.

She blinked several times
to
clear the screenshot she had in her mind.

Where
was
she? A dr
y
valley lay before her. The sun was about to set
,
so it must be dusk. Why did her butt hurt so badly? And why
,
exactly
,
was a goat nibbl
ing
at the hem of her shirt? But the most glorious of all wonders was the fact
that
Zach knelt in front of her. Not a picture of Zach, but the actual man.

Ronnie smiled. The land of gilded symbols was beautiful, but this was even better.

“Ronnie, we’ve got to go,” Zach said
,
urging her up.

Then the haze of decrypting evaporated as pain shot up her legs. She really needed to stick to ergonomic chairs with
vibro
-massage.

Zach helped her
to
rise
,
and
then scooped up her laptop without her even asking. He guided them to the dustiest pickup in the history of pickups. Quirk was already seated with a smile that outshone the setting sun. Which meant
,
of course
,
that
just to the left of him sat the pilot.

How he got back to them, Ronnie didn’t know
,
but even she was glad to see
that
he had a new cigar to chew on.

“Did you break the code?” Quirk asked
,
scooting over to make room for her.

“As far as I can,” Ronnie answered
,
turning to Zach
,
who loaded
up
last. “I need to see those symbols on the arsonist’s arm.”

“Well, then I guess we need to head to El Paso.”

Ronnie nodded
,
and
then regretted it. The post-cyber-vortex headache was settling in. Much more measured
,
she nodded to the pilot,
who was
now their driver. “El Paso it is.”

* * *

Amanda let the numbers scroll by. On one hand
,
it was scary
to see
how much data the CIA collected
on American citizens.
And since the plague broke out?
They were tracking everything
that
everyone was doing. They had even hacked into the
Nielsen
ratings, keeping track
of
what people were watching
on television
.