Facing Fear (23 page)

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Authors: Gennita Low

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary

BOOK: Facing Fear
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She wrapped her arms around her grandmother’s shoulders, hugging her from behind. One knew these things from reading Chinese historic romances. “Because they wouldn’t be happy without honor, Grandmother.” The good guys might fail, but they always had honor.

“Do you remember how the Manchurians finally managed to take China?”

“Yes. They had a spy working inside. He snuck out and opened the gate in the Great Wall. That’s how the Manchurians finally overcame the Great Wall’s impenetrable defense.”

“And what happened to this Benedict Arnold?”

“To this day, his name is never used by the Chinese people to name their sons ever again,” she recited. She cocked her head. “Okay, I see. He brought dishonor to himself forever. Right, Grandmother?”

Her grandmother smiled and patted her arm affection
ately. “All about being
chuung-sum,
my girl. The last empress knew that even if she had chosen life, she would always be dead to her people. Nobody is more hated than the traitor. Traditionally, we should spit when we say his name.”

She rested her head against her grandmother’s and viewed their reflection in the mirror, her dark hair against the wispy gray. “He must be a sad ghost, Grandmother. Nobody to feed him anything but spit.”

Her grandmother laughed, as if that hadn’t occurred to her. When she stopped, she gave a nod of approval. “You see, there are worse things than being scared.”

Nikki stirred her third cup of hot tea. She should be tired. It had been hours since she left the morning conference. She wondered what Rick was doing. He hadn’t called her on the cell phone. She couldn’t have joined him for lunch anyway, since she was nowhere nearby. She checked to see what Erik was doing. He was still busy playing with the laptop since she had gotten permission from Admiral Madison to do what Erik wanted—which was…not exactly legal. That was why they were doing it from his apartment. If they were caught—and Erik had arrogantly assured her that they wouldn’t be—she could say that it was part of her report on security.

While waiting for Erik, she had been busy writing, but it had nothing to do with her job. She reread what she had written, wondering why, of all things, this scene stirred in her mind. Memory was a strange thing. In her darkest hours, she couldn’t remember her own husband, someone with whom she was most intimate, but the sound of a wind chime brought her grandmother back. Her childhood remained clear as the melodic tune that echoed in her cell and gave her the courage to live, despite the fear and the filth. She was a forgotten soul.

Then one day she was rescued and was taken to a place to heal. She was free, but her mind had remained a prisoner. She still couldn’t remember key things—her name, her home. The strange thing was, she had remembered her interrogation, remembered what they did to her. The doctors had
called it selective amnesia, more common than total blanking of the mind. She had accepted it. It was easy to accept things when one had gone through a lot of pain.

They had asked her to try to remember her name. She tried. The only name that stuck was Nick, and they had called her Nikki.

Her rescuers were specialists in covert warfare. They hadn’t come for her. While on their mission, their leader, Jed McNeil, had heard about American prisoners from an insider. It was Jed who had decided to check out the cells his source had talked about. It could have been a trap, so he had gone in alone. He came out with Nikki in his arms. When she’d asked, he had told her there was no one else. Nikki had accepted that, too. She told her rescuers what she knew and, from habit, kept parts of her assignment secret.

She learned that they were a special branch in the government, with a lot of autonomy. She had never heard of them before that day but the fact that they gave her a choice whether to keep her rescue a secret told her how much power they had. They had extracted her because they wanted to, not because of some direct orders from the top.

It was a long time later, after her facial surgery, after undergoing therapy, that they finally discovered who she was. She had been signed off as a damaged wing by the government after her captors had threatened to kill off the prisoners when their ultimatum had been ignored. She had been pronounced dead in the line of duty.

Through the haze of trying to adjust to living among “friends” again, she had only one anchor—Jed McNeil, a man who seemed to hold more power than a mere government operative. He had told her about her old life. She even had a husband. They gave her pictures, files, information. Rick Harden. They told her she could have meant Rick when they had asked for her name. She was Leah, not Nikki. She had looked at her own photo and then at her reflection in the mirror.

“No,” she had told them. “I’m Nikki now, tailor-made.”

It had hurt every time she opened that file. She couldn’t
remember anything, and it hurt. The man in that file had gone on with his life; to him, she was dead, a damaged wing. What would going back to her old life give her? Nothing. She couldn’t remember what it was like, anyhow. She was dead. No one out there was thinking about her.

She had been scared of going back, so she had chosen death, an option her new agency had given her. They had seen her old files and knew her capabilities. She had a new face, new identity, and she could be an asset. They would rebuild her. Nikki had accepted that, too.

There are other things worse than being scared
. Her grandmother’s advice whispered in her mind like a soft breeze.

Nikki sipped her tea, savoring the soothing taste of chamomile and honey. How did one explain the pain and the fear of the unknown to someone who had become that unknown thing? She had been afraid of everything—the dark, the touch of a man, the proximity of strangers. It took months and months of careful training and mental help before she came out of her shell.

She was strong now, capable of many things that grew out of her weaknesses. Jed had helped her because of his experiences, and through him, she had learned to trust a man’s strength again, to function within a man’s world without going insane. Her sense of self had grown. She now liked being alone, liked the knowledge that her thoughts were hers and no one’s recollection. Most of all, she enjoyed things that meant a lot privately—bathing, eating, touching green things, listening to sounds. These little freedoms were like gold to her because they were the things that made her cling to her humanity in those dark days. But it was a slow journey back from hell. Years and years…

“Damn!”

She looked to her left. Across the room, Erik Jones sat in front of his laptop, rubbing his jaw, a look of disgust on his face.

“Can I help?” Nikki asked.

“No.” He waved her off absentmindedly. “Continue what you’re doing. I thought I broke through but…”

His sentence remained unfinished as his train of thought swerved back to more important things. He snapped his fingers and started to pound the keys in rapid succession.

“No, I’ll not accept your stupid negative commands, you idiot program. I know a trap when I see one. Ha! Beat you there!” he talked to the laptop after hitting one last keystroke.

Nikki smiled and turned away. For once Erik wasn’t playing at being an agent; he was one now. He was in his element—encryption and decoding—something at which he was obviously very good. No wonder he felt wasted in administration.

She looked down at her writing. While the young man battled with some cyberspace phantom, she had taken a time out to think about where she was now. Rick deserved an answer. Why so long? And why now?

She had accepted so much, but it was a passive acceptance. Until she finally made the effort to look into the matter itself, she had moved on in her new life as Nikki Taylor. Maybe it was just time or karma. One day she had opened that file and reread its contents and her grandmother’s prophecies kept repeating in her head.

With her agency’s Intel systems at her disposal, it didn’t take long before she pulled out things that weren’t meant for public eyes. Her file, she had discovered, had been designated damaged wing
before
that fated operation. For years afterward her husband had continued looking for her remains, sending request after request for her lost files. Following personnel files, it was clear that he had been partly blamed for the death of her crew. Something about that last bit of information didn’t sound right. Why had he refused to answer questions? What had he done to betray her?

She had looked at the picture of Rick Harden again, and as always, felt that strange need to trace his face. After ten years, he was even more a stranger, but she was drawn to him nonetheless. His strong, sensual mouth had frightened her. His search for her had frightened her. But his questions made her realize something else.
You’re wrong. Someone never forgot about you. Him
.

Again, fate or karma had interceded when they offered her this contract. She had taken it, knowing full well all the possibilities ahead, but she couldn’t afford to be afraid anymore. Her grandmother’s prophecies had prompted her into action. She must stop fearing the past. Fear had robbed her of so much, especially the truth.

Nikki finished her tea, setting down the cup on the table. She had to find out. Was she like the traitor who opened the gates for the enemies? Was that why she couldn’t remember? If so, why had Rick gotten a censure for information disclosure? Was he the traitor? Her mind rejected it, but why didn’t he fight it? She thought of the flashback she had when they made love—by the fireside when they had been together one final time.

Rick had an intent look in his eyes when she told him she remembered that last night together. It was as if he had expected to hear more, and she could have sworn she saw disappointment before he masked it. What?
What?
She thought of his hands touching her intimately, moving over her naked body in the firelight. She remembered his soft moans in her ear as he had fought for control while he gave her pleasure over and over.

Nikki’s body tingled as if he were doing it to her now. She closed her eyes, imagining the whole scene. Heat from the fire. His slow burning touch from the knee to the thigh, then between her legs, and staying there. Heat from his fingers. She was writhing and moaning, straining against his captive hand. She felt flushed, weak. Then…she had said…

Nikki held her head between her hands. She groaned from the weight of the pain exploding suddenly.

“N
ikki? Are you all right?”

Erik’s voice sounded far away. The pain blurred her vision. Red lines and white spots. Erik’s face suddenly floated before her.

“Nikki!”

“I’m okay,” she replied, her voice a mere thread as the pain slowly receded. She blinked rapidly.

“What happened?”

Nikki moved away from Erik. He was standing too close. “It’s okay. I’m all right,” she assured him, trying to stand up and stumbling.

Erik grabbed her upper arms to steady her. Although part of her knew he meant no harm, she jerked away in panic. He misunderstood, coming closer to hold her more firmly.

“No!” Her strangled cry was followed with a practiced move driven by instinct. She had the young man on his back before she knew what she had done, her elbow cutting into his throat. His eyes went wide with shock and surprise. He gurgled. Realizing the pressure from her elbow was hurting him, she let up, confused and apologetic.

“I’m…sorry,” Nikki said. She released him and stood up swiftly. She took a deep breath. “Are you all right?”

Erik stared up at her, his hand rubbing his throat. He tried to speak, then coughed several times. “I asked you first,” he finally managed to say. “What happened? You seemed to be in pain, and now I am.”

Nikki didn’t try to explain. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He slowly got on his knees. He coughed again. “You’re stronger than you look.”

She could have killed him. She bit her lip, regretting her loss of control. Usually she was able to tolerate the occasional contact and close proximity of others. She suspected that she had let her guard down since finding out that Rick’s touch didn’t affect her.

“It’s all right.” Erik attempted a grin, still rubbing his throat. “I’ll survive. What did I do, though, to set you off like that?”

“It wasn’t you. I…” Nikki shook her head, unable to explain the confused swarm of emotions that had attacked like stinging insects in her brain. She was bewildered by how quickly her flashbacks were returning, like some television channel she could now switch on. But every time, the joy of discovery seemed to be followed by pain. “It’s complicated.”

“Does it have to do with yesterday?”

She frowned, “Yesterday?”

“I heard you fainted yesterday, and I saw Agent Harden carrying you out.”

She nodded slowly. Erik was right. She had captured a moment of a younger, smiling Rick before that awful blinding pain smashed into her, blanking her mind. The same thing had just happened again. What was happening to her?

“You’re hard to talk to,” Erik grumbled. His voice was almost back to normal. “You never say anything, even when I’m trying my damnedest to get something out of you.”

Nikki smiled. “That’s because I have nothing to tell you.”

“Or maybe I’m asking the wrong question.” It was a rhetorical statement, as if he knew by now that he wouldn’t get a reply. “You sure you’re all right now? I’ll get back to work.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll sit by and watch you again, if you don’t mind. Maybe I’ll learn something.” She needed some kind of distraction. The frequency of her flashbacks gnawed at her whenever she was alone and thinking.

“Sure.”

He got a chair for her and after settling down beside him, she watched him quietly for a while. “You’re good at this,” she finally remarked after witnessing him dismantling one of the string of codes.

“Well, it has to do with your laptop, too,” he said. “This baby is some toy, Nikki. Do you know how powerful it is?”

She had an idea. Jed had given it to her, and anything connected with Jed McNeil was powerful and secretive. Shrugging, she asked, “If they catch you breaking into the system, what would they do?”

“They will first try to slam shut any open ports at that time. Rather, we would,” Erik corrected himself, grinning. “If I were in charge, I would be tracing us back to here. But a good hacker will use several different ways to elude a trace.”

“Piggybacking,” Nikki said.

“Yes, that’s a popular one. The amateurs steal someone’s password and hack that way. Or the smarter ones piggyback a server. The bigger the server, the harder to find them. Sometimes they send out false leads, and anyone chasing them end up at different locations.”

“Like some weird addresses overseas,” she said. She knew enough about the perverse art of hacking, having seen some of her friends at work. “So, are you doing that?”

“Of course not,” Erik scoffed. “I’m inside, remember? I have the advantage of knowing some of the firewalls and passwords already. Speed is the name of the game here, so I’m going in to grab what we want and leave immediately. Most hackers can’t resist staying around to leave a calling card, or to explore more. That’s how we catch them.”

“You mean you set traps for them.”

“Bait, traps, whatever…” He shrugged as he typed away. “Most of them are nuisance hackers but we also get the sophisticated criminal who steals information to sell. Those are the ones we try to get.”

Nikki watched his avid attention to the numbers on the screen. “You really enjoy this,” she observed.

“This is great fun for me,” he acknowledged, slanting her a glance.

Yet he wanted to be James Bond. Nikki hid a smile. She didn’t think he would be pleased if she told him that the infamous legendary spy rarely sat at a desk dueling with invisible foes using strings of computer codes. She preferred her job over this one. Hers wasn’t some covert game of transferring electronic files from one place to another. No wonder she couldn’t solve the mystery of her files alone. She needed someone who understood this kind of warfare. She studied Erik’s profile. She wondered whether he was as good as—

“Holy shit!” He stared at the screen for a few seconds. More curses followed.

“What, Erik?”

“Shadow Firewire.” He tapped some commands. “I can’t believe it. It’s on top of us! Man, it’s fast.”

Nikki touched Erik on the arm. “What’s firewire? What’s it doing?”

“I think we’ve been caught,” he breathed. “No way. No fucking way.”

 

“Why are the string codes echoing each other, sir?”

“It seems we’re not alone. Let me try something.” Rick typed in a command. “Now we sit and watch.”

“What’s happening? Have we found what we’re looking for?” Patty moved around the furniture to get a better view.

“No, princess. We’re tracing someone’s dataline. Someone’s typing in the same sequence of commands and we’re catching the echoes. That means there’s someone else in the room.”

“So we’ve been caught?”

“No, no, the other way around. We caught them. Sir, why are we monitoring them, anyway? Maybe it’s just someone from EYES.”

“Hacking into their own system and accessing the files we want with trolls and fake command strings? I don’t think so.” Rick sat back, frowning. “But this person knows what he’s doing, though. He’s very specific. Look at that—he just downloaded without even any use of hacking sequences.”

“That means the person isn’t using any electronic means to try to randomly find a password, princess.”

“I know what it means. I have read about ATM machine robberies, stuff like that. Shouldn’t we call somebody to catch this person, then? He might be one of the people on Gorman’s network.”

“No,” Rick said. “Let’s see what he’s downloading first. We’ll follow what he’s after and take those files. It’s too strange that he’s here at the same time as us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but downloading what he’s after would be tricky, sir. To do it once without being caught is pretty nifty but if we repeat the same codes, it’ll trigger a warning in the EYES system.”

“We’ll just have to be niftier, won’t we? Ever use a firewire?”

“Not while hacking into the government, no, sir.”

“Okay, that’s not a term used in ATM robberies,” Patty chimed in.

“Princess, we aren’t exactly hacking into an ATM machine. It takes a lot of time to download files from someone’s system, especially when that someone is our very own Uncle Sam. They have firewalls and protection circuits and…”

“Firewire, Patty, is a lightning fast program to download from one site to another. It’s used mostly in recording CDs—music files zapped quickly from one music medium onto CD. We’ll use a new tech called Shadow Firewire.”

“Thank you, sir, for not giving me a lecture on computer firewalls like Agent Candeloro. So, we’re firewiring, if that’s a word.”

“Sir, how would that keep the EYES alarms from noticing two repeated sequence?”

“Simple. We go after Mr. Know-It-All here and download all his files from
his
system.”

“Wow.”

“Oh wow.”

“See, princess? We can agree sometimes. Ouch.”

 

“This just isn’t possible.”

Erik’s horrified voice told her how serious the situation was. She didn’t pepper him with any more questions. Whatever was happening, it was apparently too late to do much.

He turned to face her, his face a little pale. “Nikki, whoever that was zinged us with something high speed and downloaded everything that I’ve just loaded into your laptop.”

Nikki frowned. “I don’t understand. Why would they take what they already have?”

Erik shook his head. “You don’t understand. This guy is good. He trolled into my territory and stole all my files…and…whatever else you have in the hard drive, Nikki. I’m sorry. I didn’t think…We’re really up shit creek now.”

“Why are the sequences repeating, sir?” Cam rubbed his eyes. “God, I feel like I’m being bombarded by evil cyber energy.”

Rick squinted, trying to read the codes quickly. They were scrolling too fast, but what he caught didn’t read right. “It’s a deliberate signal,” he finally said. “We’ve been caught.”

Her hard drive? Nikki’s frown deepened. “They downloaded everything in my laptop?”

“Yes.” Erik’s face had turned a bright red. “Is there anything in there that’s classified?”

Her personal writing was in there. Some files. “A few,” she replied slowly, “but nothing that would jeopardize national security. What’s it doing now?”

“I don’t understand what’s happening now.” He pointed at the codes in the screen. “This and this are just repetition and shouldn’t be happening. I’ve been very careful with the download, Nikki. No one could possibly have known what I was doing, but I know for sure we’ve been caught.”

“Well, turn the laptop off. Pull out the phone line.”

“And then what?”

“We wait, and see who’s caught us.”

 

“Ummm, Cam, did I hear that we’ve just been caught?”

“Princess, don’t worry. I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you go off now? Just in case EYES are sending some personnel over here.”

Rick waved a hand, interrupting the two of them. “Go. Both of you. I don’t need you here.” He didn’t feel any panic at all. He had never been caught before, but this still didn’t look like any tracer program he’d ever read or played with. It looked as if it was…He started typing quickly. Waited. Then he repeated the same command again.

“Sir, shouldn’t you just turn it off and let’s get out of here?”

He shrugged. “This looks interesting.”

“Interesting?” There was a scrunching sound as Cam tore open a bag of chips.

“Yes. Look. It’s repeating my nonsense.”

“Like it’s mocking you or something! Hell, what fucking game is he playing? Shouldn’t he be tracing us for downloading from his laptop?” More noisy crunching.

“No. I think this isn’t our first perp.” In fact, Rick was sure it wasn’t. This one was of a higher caliber; he had somehow been hiding in the wings and then inserted a virus program during his download.

“I don’t understand. Cam, what’s happening?”

“Not sure, Patty.”

Rick finally looked at them. He was surprised they hadn’t run off. Being caught with him would end their careers. “Some form of troll with a virus came in with the download we were stealing, and it connected to some source online immediately. There was an immediate trace but I don’t think it’s from EYES. It’s from whoever put the virus into that download, with a command to signal him if someone triggered something in those files. When I went in and took everything from the hacker’s hard drive, there must have been a hidden virus in there.” He patted the laptop. “Whatever it is, we still have the files because I loaded it into an alternate zip site that will copy them several times. Even if this virus destroys what we downloaded, it won’t know about the backups.”

“That’s cool,” Cam said. There was a sudden whirring sound. “Oh-oh. Is that destructo-virus?”

“Ye—” Rick stopped, cocked his head. Now he was truly intrigued. “No, it’s transmitting a…fax?”

Twenty seconds. That was how fast the virus was. Suddenly there was an open window on the screen, with a
YES
option for saving to file.

“Holy shhh…sorry, princess. This is freaking amazing! Sir, are you going to accept it?”

“Yes.”

It came in encrypted. It had a subject title—FYEO: time to ask some hard questions.

Patty read it aloud. “For Your Eyes Only. Sir, does that mean he knows it’s you?”

“Yes.” Whoever it was liked mind games. Rick decided to open it later when he was alone. “We’ve done what I wanted for the night. Let’s look at the download quickly.”

They made backups, working through late afternoon. Greta brought in some beverage and snacks before she left.

“Hell of a show, sir, being caught stealing from someone stealing from EYES! I’ll get the report rewritten ASAP. Good night.” Cam finished his drink.

“Bye, sir. Tomorrow I’ll use that code sequence you gave me and find out whose password that is. It’s safer from my office. It’ll look like part of a departmental request.”

“Thank you. Good night, Cam, Patty.”

Rick adjusted his seating position. His rear end had died on him some time in the last hour, but he had paid scant attention to it in the midst of all the excitement. Now that it was over, with the rush of adrenaline receding, every cramped joint was protesting.

His bureaucratic butt missed the nice soft leather chair. His bureaucratic back didn’t like the hard metal cabinet with its sharp corner that kept pressing into his right shoulder. His bureaucratic neck couldn’t take the patience of leaning down and playing with wires and chips. They would rather do all that in his study at home, with all its high-tech toys. All this
was back-to-basics, like lifting barbells after using weight machines for years.

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