Mission, page 3
“I was to be the face of the buyer of the drone’s security software at Defcon. It’s a very dangerous mission. And Ms. Benson has no undercover experience. She’ll be around organized criminals or potential terrorists. Probably both.”
Sten’s sky-blue eyes suddenly shifted to the color of storm clouds. She’d pegged his angular chin as stubborn, and she was right. By the way his tight jaw twitched, Sten Jenkins didn’t like losing control of his project.
Well, welcome to my world, soldier. And no way was she giving up this opportunity to go to Defcon to take Charles down.
Sten turned in his seat and directed his comments to Dean. “I can handle whatever is thrown at me. I would familiarize myself with the system before meeting with the sellers to convince them that I’m legit in representing a formidable buyer. I’ll hack into their system as a test, and I’ll be much more believable as a black hat.” discover if there was a connection between Charles and this seller.
“You? A cracker?” Izzy covered her mouth. Did she just say that aloud? Okay, she was having a bit of trouble adjusting to the idea that Charles’s cousin or whatever wanted her for a government job—not for a prison sentence. Or maybe this was a trap to convict her?
Sten’s eyes and voice turned icy. “Why couldn’t I be a hacker?”
She shrugged her shoulders since it was too hard to raise her eyebrows. “You’re going to try to convince the seller that you hacked into a classified military program for a criminal organization or one of our country’s enemies? No one would believe it.”
The tense silence in the room reverberated against the glass walls. If that was physically possible.
PO’d alpha Man shifted his weight, leaning forward, closing the distance between them at the table. “And why is that?”
“Really, you need to ask?”
Reeves kicked her under the table. For some reason she couldn’t explain, she liked irritating Sten Jenkins with his dismissive attitude and cool control when she had none. “Because you’re not a chill stoner type. Nor do you have the angry edge of a rebel.” Izzy chose not to mention that his cover model face, his intense virile confidence, and his erect military posture shouted narc, not criminal.
“And you are?” His voice, laced with amusement, had Izzy edging closer to her adversary. Always underestimated by males because of her size and her age, Sten Jenkins had just thrown down the gauntlet.
“Let’s just say in the world of hackers, as a woman, I’m still unique.” She didn’t mention that gender disparity in pay and job advancement made her ripe for defying mainstream. “You’re not. And geeks who spend their entire lives in front of computers don’t have bodies that look like yours.” Izzy now wished she didn’t have the pale skin and freckles that went with her red hair. Because her skin was burning hot—like the color of a stop sign. OMG! Why was she commenting on Sten Jenkins’s body, and in front of Richard Dean?
Reeves was nodding in agreement. “It’s true, Sten. You have the whole military mojo going.”
Mr. Dean cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad we have that clarified. Sten is going undercover as your bodyguard, Izzy, It will be the perfect cover. Sten will be running the mission but will also act as your bodyguard and accompany you when you hopefully do the buy. You might not know it, but Sten has skills in international cybercrime besides his military skills.”
Izzy didn’t like the way Sten’s full lips lifted into a smirk. She’d had her fill of tech men’s attitude of “show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” It was a long time, a really long time, since she’d competed in hacking games. But she had no need to say that she crushed the men. She had no doubt she could convince anyone of her abilities. But posing as a hacker trying to buy military secrets was a little too close to the truth. Except, she was on the right side of the law in this instance.
“My reputation as a hacker was built in college competing in games to test and prove our skills as well as running pen tests on various sites to identify their weaknesses.”
“I’m not worried about your skills,” Dean said. “Izzy, have you heard of the Bedlam group?”
“Of course.” Izzy rubbed her neck, trying to soothe away the tension from the unexpected twist to this meeting—that she might never escape Charles’s wide reach. “They are supposedly responsible for the SONY attack and stealing millions from banks in various countries.”
“They stole over eighty million from Bangladesh Bank,” Reeves said. “And their latest was sixty million from the Bank of Taiwan.”
“The belief is that North Korea is behind the Bedlam group—making them a dangerous enemy,” Sten added. “And we think they’re behind the attempts on Dean Software Security.”
Not Charles? Or was it possible that Charles was working with Bedlam? If Sten was trying to scare her, it was working. She now felt like ants were marching up her spine in heavy combat boots. She’d have another deadly enemy. Wasn’t one enough?
“We’re not sure if this is a copycat of Bedlam or not. This has gotten very personal to me. This isn’t just about the drone security. This is my security system. But we must assume they have the skills to get into the security software and sell it to the highest bidder. And you’re going to join the competition.” Dean looked at his expensive heavy silver watch. “I’m late. Sten, I leave this in your competent hands. I’m glad that you’re the man guarding Izzy. The Jenkins brothers are the best, as my Sophie can attest.”
Sten rose and followed Dean out of the room while Reeves pulled Izzy’s chair out for her. Dean stopped at the door. “Reeves, you’re going to brief me on the way to our meeting at Amazon, correct?”
“Yes, I’m riding with you.”
Izzy stood, not sure what she was supposed to do.
Reeves wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I wouldn’t have recommended you if I thought you couldn’t handle it. Sten will never let anything happen to you.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t sure if it was a head injury or the news that Charles’s relative would be overseeing her assignment to sell military secrets that had her feeling a bit paranoid—like off-the-charts paranoid, like X-Files Scully and Mulder paranoid.
“Sten will drive you back to our office. When I get back, you and I are going to have a heart-to-heart about this morning.” Reeves pointed to her face.
Izzy shrugged, pretending that her nerves weren’t whipping, her heart wasn’t pounding, and her brain wasn’t focused on running straight out of the building. Just too bad she didn’t have a place to run to. Being on the run sucked.
4
Sten’s day had gone from one clusterfuck to the next. And it all centered around one woman. He stepped into the conference room to interrogate his newest team member, one he didn’t trust or want.
A team member he was responsible for. He had a lot of questions for the child prodigy, starting with her violent boyfriend and why she got antsy when speaking about her hacking.
He was trained in asking unpleasant questions, and he planned to ask her every single one.
Maybe it was time to rethink his transfer to CC since dealing with soldiers trained in warfare was a lot easier than dealing with a woman genius with enough secrets to keep the CIA busy for weeks.
The slender woman stood gazing out at the gray, misty skies. Something stirred in him as he saw the dejected set of her shoulders and the way her oversized coat hung on her like she was a waif out of a Dickens novel.
“Hey, are you hungry?” What happened to interrogating subjects when they were vulnerable?
She startled at his voice but quickly turned, her neck and spine stiffening as if preparing for the next barrage.
“Do you want to grab something to eat before we head to the office? I’m starved.”
Her lower lip lifted into a partial smile. “As long as it’s not 7-Eleven.”
An unexpected bark of laughter erupted from him. “There is a great place a few blocks from here. If you’re up for it, we can walk. Driving would take longer in Seattle traffic.”
“Sure.” She swung her black backpack over her shoulder. “I haven’t spent much time in this part of downtown. We’re close to Amazon headquarters, aren’t we?”
“Everything around here is Amazon. This used to be a chill city but not anymore.”
He held the elevator door open for her, getting another whiff of a flowery, feminine scent that was in sharp contrast to her hard-ass tats and severe black dress code. They rode the elevator in silence. With his impulsive suggestion to share breakfast—he never did impulsive—he now scrambled for the best approach to getting the information he needed. And doing so without making her defensive about Reeves’s mention that she had a stalker boyfriend.
Sten watched her scan the street before venturing forth. Now that she was on his team, she had to start believing he could protect her. Her creep boyfriend was no longer a threat. The North Koreans and the Russians were the real threat. And he had only five days to get Izzy on board for Defcon, ready to take on formidable enemies.
The café next to one of the main Amazon offices wasn’t too busy since the morning rush was over. He chose the table, placing Izzy into a corner, so she wasn’t visible from the front and back doors. He’d rather be proactive about protection.
Izzy downed her two-egg omelet, hash browns, and toast almost as quickly as he ate the breakfast special—a four-egg omelet with all its sides and a stack of pancakes. Not an easy feat to eat faster than a Jenkins since the dining motto at the Jenkins’ household was “he who waits goes hungry.”
He had never seen a woman enjoy her food while consuming massive quantities. Women he dated ordered small amounts and pushed them around on their plates. He liked a woman with lusty appetites. All of a sudden, the image of an insatiable Izzy when she moaned with the last bite of her hash browns had him studying her full, soft pink lips and the way her green eyes tilted at the corner, giving her an exotic feline look. He quickly averted his eyes.
She leaned against her chair. “You’re right. This place is good.”
“Maybe you’re just hungry.”
Her giggle was light, and did something to the way the pancakes and omelet were settling in his stomach. What the hell? This was the woman who was a royal pain in his ass and had turned his goal to prove himself at CC into a total goat fuck. And like some horny dude, he smiled back at her impish grin.
“My sisters always hated me for my fast metabolism.”
“Sisters? How many?” Forcing himself to focus on his job: Interrogation 101—build a bond before getting to the hard questions.
“Two older.” The lightness in her voice changed to tragic as if she were announcing the end of the free world.
“Yeah, I get where you’re coming from. Lars, my twin, is two minutes older than me. And he never stops giving me shit. As if having three other brothers wasn’t hard enough. The Marines was a walk in the park after growing up in the Jenkins’ boot camp.” Second rule—play on parallels.
Her cheeks pinked, making the freckles on her nose and high cheekbones stand out.
“Are your sisters gifted like you?”
She sat up straight, her relaxed position disappearing. “Neither of my sisters thinks of me as gifted.”
“They were jealous?”
She rolled her expressive eyes to the ceiling. “As if! My sisters were prom queens and captains of the cheer squad.”
“And you weren’t?” Sten, being a healthy male, could see beyond the heavy, oversized clothing and the severe hair pulled tightly away from her face. Izzy Benson was a beauty with a hot little bod, pale perfect skin, and grass-green eyes that sparked when she was pissed.
“I wish I had brothers instead of sisters.” She shook her head and her ponytail bounced. “I’d take direct assault over covert attacks.”
Sten leaned forward, taking advantage of the perfect segue. “Talking about assault, you know you need to tell me about the boyfriend you’re running from.”
The color in her face leached away, making her already pale skin glare in contrast to the harsh black hair and the red welt and bruise forming.
“Where did you come up with that theory that it was an ex?”
She was going to keep the game playing. He wasn’t asking as a relationship counselor.
“Look.” He leaned closer, using his size to emphasize his position. “I get you want to maintain your privacy…but this is a dangerous operation and I need you to be focused. You’ve nada experience with undercover work. If you’re worried about some jealous boyfriend, you won’t be on your game which will endanger you and make my job a lot more difficult.’
“I thought Marines were able to ‘improvise, adapt, and overcome.’”
“Did you learn that playing some damn video game?”
“Well, let’s get all the assumptions you’ve made about me out in the open. No, I don’t spend all my time playing video games, hacking into government sites, and eating pizza and junk food. And I know a lot of trivia. It’s just the way my brain works.”
So maybe she was right about his preconceived opinions. Maybe a little. “Good to know that your tab at the Bellagio won’t break the bank, funding your late-night munchies.”
“Why are we staying at the Bellagio instead of the Paris Hotel where Defcon is being held?”
“You’re a cracker making the big dollars. You’re expensive and exclusive. You and Reeves will build your cover. Also, I’ll be able to keep you tucked away until you make contact with the sellers.”
“I’m already registered for the conference. I was planning on attending sessions at Defcon. There are talks I want to hear. And shouldn’t I compete in the games to establish my street cred?”
“You’re going to Defcon as a sock puppet. Not to attend the conference.”
“I’m impressed that you know the lingo, but you do realize that a sock puppet is an online fake identity, don’t you? Besides I’m in disguise. No one who knows me will recognize me. This isn’t my hair color, and the tats are fake.”
That the tats and extreme black look were fake lined up with what Reeves had shared and Sten’s own assessment of Izzy as a brilliant, sweet, and too trusting woman who’d gotten mixed up with an asshole. Hell, who said, “None of your beeswax?” Her disguise couldn’t hide that Izzy was a compelling beauty with intelligent eyes and an innocent charm, as evidenced by her fan-girl behavior during her interview with Richard Dean, an intimidating son of a bitch for those who didn’t know him. Not that he was going to disillusion or frighten her that her disguise wasn’t working. She was running from an abusive boyfriend—or at least that was what Reeves said his sister said.
“We can’t underestimate the abilities of our enemies to find out your real identity despite your and Reeves’s skills or your disguise. It’s not worth the risk of discovery. And it will be a lot more difficult to guard you if you’re attending Defcon.”
“I really haven’t had time to process that I’m going to Defcon undercover…”
“You’ve had a big morning. Just a few hours ago you were assaulted by your boyfriend.”
She stopped herself from touching her cheek while his eyes remained focused on her.
“What happened this morning will not affect my performance at Defcon. And the mugger wasn’t my boyfriend.”
Sten ground his teeth and swallowed every four-letter expletive in his extensive vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to report to General Harkness that he couldn’t work with the asset. “You don’t decide what can affect this assignment, I do. And if you won’t cooperate, you won’t be going. I still have control over this mission. I need to vet your boyfriend and assess his risk. We can’t have him show up and destroy your cover.”
She rubbed her finger along the condensation of her water glass, avoiding eye contact. “You just said I wouldn’t be attending the regular sessions and not staying at the same hotel, so the chances of running into my ex are minimal.”
“Hey, any guy hitting a woman doesn’t deserve your protection.”
She rolled her eyes upward, probably a well-learned defense against her irritating sisters. “I’m not trying to protect anyone. I’m trying to…. Never mind.”
“All of us have made mistakes. I wouldn’t want to be discussing it with a complete stranger either.”
Now, he had her attention. She brushed her bangs away from her eyes to search his face.
“But someone as smart as you are with almost two Ph.Ds. must see why I need to know about him.” It would take their security a minute to find the computer geek. He envisioned the boyfriend pierced, tatted, with stringy hair and a smelly t-shirt with some inane saying that was thought to be clever and weird. “I need a name.”
“If he becomes a problem, I promise I’ll tell you who he is.”
Sten searched for patience—not his strongest suit when readying for a mission. He reminded himself that Izzy must be terrified of this guy, which made him want to rip the asshole’s throat out.
She didn’t blink an eye when Dean asked her to go undercover as a black hat and work on a dangerous mission, but she was afraid of her ex or she would have shared his name.
He was good at his work because he could read people and their intentions in seconds. His life and his team’s survival depended on his skills. But this defiant woman had him guessing. And he sure as hell never made it a habit to guess. He made decisions based on hardcore data mixed with deeply embedded and well-trained instinct.
“With you posing as my bodyguard, I’ll be safe.”
Now it was Sten’s turn to roll his eyes as if that technique would have worked on his older brothers ready to pound his ass. “What if he follows you to Las Vegas?”
“Oh, he’ll be there.”
Come on. Really? Sten could feel the muscles in his jaw twitching from major clenching. Give him soldiers under his command who obeyed his orders—not genius civilians with convoluted reasoning.
