“Fine,” my guest says, “I’ll get to it. I have information about a disaster you’ve got in Idaho that you probably don’t have any idea is coming and, even if you do, you have no clue yet about how bad it’s going to get. You have an enemy so powerful that no one in this room can imagine the forces he can, and is about to, bring against you. Even with the information I possess, you have a very slim chance of saving the project; without this information, you stand no chance at all of saving the project and, in addition, you will lose everything else. This world you have built around yourself, Chase Madison, is about to be incinerated to ash. I can prove it. Where’s my handbag?”
I consider her for a moment before picking up my phone and hitting the icon for security and putting it to my ear. Diane would have been listening in the entire time and and answers on the first ring. Without a word from me she reports they have cleared the woman’s car and everything in it and she is on her way up with the woman’s bag.
Quality is free. It always pays for itself. I have on my team the best in the world, so micromanagement is unnecessary, even harmful, to effective performance so I stay out of the way. Not saying anything, I disconnect the phone and place it back on the table.
Within seconds Diane walks in and it’s obvious that enhanced security has lived up to its name. The woman’s bag is in tatters with seams ripped out and hardware removed. Diane places the remains of the bag in front of the woman in a pile and holds up a plastic case with a clear cover. Within it, is a tiny black dot set against the white backing of the case. “It was woven into the fabric of the bag,” Diane says.
Smiling, I say to the woman. “Pictures of your last trip to Mount Hood or the coast maybe?”
The woman scowls at me before looking up at Diane. “You’ve checked it?”
Diane does not answer, only looks at me and waits.
“Encrypted?” I ask.
“Yes,” Diane replies. “Military grade. Someone knows what he’s doing.”
“What she’s doing,” says the woman. “And thank you.”
I nod at Diane and she presses a button under the table. A panel slides back revealing a keyboard. Diane enters a few keystrokes and the half of the wall closest to me on my right and the woman’s left transforms into a computer screen with a curser blinking in the upper left corner.
Diane inserts the plastic container into a slot to the right of the keyboard and looks down at the young woman. “We’ve isolated this computer. There is no connection to the internet nor to another electronic device in this building or anywhere else. We will recycle it after this session. Its internal storage is electronic, not magnetic and is secure. If you’re thinking you can hack into our internal system, I would suggest against it. The effort would be futile, and we would take a very dim view of the attempt. Have I made myself clear?”
The seconds drag out before I realize the woman and I have locked eyes just as we had at the club. Diane’s face remains expressionless as she looks at the woman and waits for an answer. After a few more seconds, Sonia kicks me under the table.
Brain: Business. Keep it business. You pay a lot of money to have your hormones taken care of so no one and nothing can screw with your thinking ability. Snap out of it.
But it’s too late. The woman and I have taken one another captive. I shift my leg out of Sonia’s range.
“Ms. Palmer?” Diane says.
“Hmm?” the Palmer woman replies.
“Did you hear me?”
“Hmm?” Tearing our eyes from their embrace, the woman looks up at Diane. “Oh! Sorry. What?”
Diane repeats her earlier warning.
“Got it,” the woman says, her voice decisive. “I would expect nothing less.”
As she’s turning to leave, I say, “Please stay, Diane,” Making no reply, she takes a position behind the woman beside Ai-Ling.
The woman enters a long passphrase.
A listing of files appears on the wall.
“What are we looking at?” I ask.
“Your whole life is up there, Chase Madison. Every detail. And within those details are the seeds of your destruction.” Then fixing me with a look that is a mixture of pride and terror, she says, “And also, therein lies the destruction of the computer genius who managed to uncover it all.”
“You,” I state flatly.
“Correct,” the woman replies. “And let me be clear about something else. I am not here because I give a rat’s ass about any of you. I am here to save my own ass. Unfortunately for me, in order to save my pretty, not so little, ass, I’ve got to save yours.
The woman has just told me that I’m seriously in danger of losing everything I have. So why can I not think of anything but her ass?
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