Chapter 8
The malware signature stared back at me from the screen. I'd been looking at the same string of code for twenty minutes, trying to find the pattern. The command and control server pinged every six hours like clockwork. Predictable. Whoever built this was good, but predictable.
Movement on the security camera feed caught my attention. The blue Honda pulled into the parking lot. Katherine.
I pressed the button to unlock the front door remotely.
"I'm upstairs," I called out.
She appeared in the conference room doorway, balancing white paper bags that smelled incredible.
"I brought dinner."
I blinked at the screen, realizing I'd lost focus completely. When had that happened? The code blurred in front of me.
"You didn't have to do that."
My stomach chose that exact moment to growl loud enough to echo off the walls.
Traitor.
Katherine moved to the conference table and started unpacking containers. The smell hit me hard. Fried beef, gravy, something that reminded me of Sunday dinners at my grandmother's house in Georgia. Actual food, not the protein bars and coffee that had sustained me for the past twelve hours.
I saved my work and turned my full attention to her.
She looked different from when I’d seen her at Jase's house. Still tired, shadows under her eyes that makeup couldn't hide, if she’d been wearing any. But something had shifted. The hunted look had eased. She seemed more present, more solid. Like she'd found something today that grounded her.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
We ate in silence for a few minutes. The chicken-fried steak was perfect. Crispy breading on tender beef, white gravy that was thick without being gummy. The mashed potatoes were real, not instant. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until the first bite.
"This is really good," I said.
Katherine picked at her mashed potatoes with her fork, making patterns in the gravy. "Little Grandma said it's one of your favorites."
I paused mid-chew. "How did she know I was going to eat this?"
"She said they know everything." Katherine's lips curved slightly. "Apparently that includes what you like for dinner."
"That's terrifying."
"Or comforting, depending on how you look at it."
“Fair point.” In the Army, I'd have called it actionable intelligence. Here in Jasper Creek, it was just community. People paying attention, caring enough to remember details.
I studied her while I ate. Something may have grounded her, but she was still nervous, fingers shredding a napkin into tiny pieces. Hardly eating. But her shoulders had dropped from their defensive position. Whatever she'd done today helped.
"Long day for you?" she asked.
"Every day's long when you're hunting digital ghosts." I took another bite. "What about you? What did you do?"
She gave a sheepish laugh. "I went to Dollywood."
I set down my fork. "By yourself?"
"Needed to clear my head. Be normal for a few hours." She met my eyes. "Anonymous."
"Did it work?"
She thought about it, really thought about it. Not a quick deflection, but genuine consideration.
"It did. It really did... For a while."
Something in her voice suggested it hadn't ended well. But she wasn't offering more, and I wasn't going to push. Twenty years in intelligence taught you when to wait for information to come to you.
We finished eating in comfortable silence. I gathered the empty containers and tossed them in the trash, aware of her eyes following my movements.
"Did Angelica send you to get a phone?" I asked.
"And to make sure you ate." She gestured at the empty containers. "Mission accomplished on the first count."
I almost smiled. Angelica had been managing the Drakos men since she was three years old. Some things never changed.
"Let me get that phone set up for you, then mission number two will be accomplished."
I led her to the small office where I'd prepped the burner phone. Simple setup, clean number, no traceable connection to her real identity. Standard operational security for someone in her situation.
When I handed her the phone, our fingers brushed. The contact lasted half a second, but electricity shot through my hand. I pulled back fast. Too fast.
She noticed. Those blue eyes tracked the movement, saw more than I wanted her to see.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"I’ve logged mine and Jase’s numbers into the phone. Call Angelica first. Let her know you're safe. She'll worry all night otherwise."
Katherine made the call while I pretended to organize papers on the desk. I wasn't eavesdropping, exactly. More like maintaining situational awareness.
She reassured Angelica she was fine, promised not to disappear again, then hung up.
"All set?" I asked.
"Yeah. Angelica says I should stay here and let you do your thing."
"My thing?"
"Her words, not mine."
This time I did smile, just slightly. “She likes it when you’re protected. She likes to think she’s subtle."
"She’s not."
"None of them are."
We stood there in the small office. Too close for comfort, not close enough for what some part of me wanted. I shoved that thought down hard.
"You want to see what I'm working on?" The words came out before I could stop them.
Katherine's expression shifted. Interest, genuine interest, not polite engagement.
"Yeah."
We moved back to the conference room. She stood beside me, close enough that I could smell her shampoo. Something citrusy, expensive. But it wasn't the scent that distracted me. It was the way she leaned forward, actually trying to understand the screens.
"This is the malware from your laptop." I pointed to the relevant display. "Custom built, not off the shelf. Whoever made this knew what they were doing."
"Can you trace it?"
"Working on it. The command and control server bounces through multiple proxies." I pulled up the network map. "Russia, Romania, Netherlands. Standard obfuscation technique. But everyone makes mistakes eventually."
"How long will that take?"
"However long it takes."
She watched me work for several minutes. I was hyperaware of her presence. The way she breathed, slow and even. The small shift of her weight when she leaned closer to see something on the screen. The heat radiating from her body.
Normally, I could tune out everything when I was deep in code. In Afghanistan, I could tune out mortars falling outside the wire. I'd just kept working. Forward operating bases with generators failing, I'd kept working. But Katherine was different. She pulled at my attention like gravity.
"I should go," she said finally. "Let you work."
The words escaped before I could analyze them. "Or you could stay."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Stay?"
"If you want." I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly uncertain in a way I hadn't been since before West Point.
"I set up the PlayStation in the break room this morning.
Figured the twins would want to play again.
I downloaded Quantum Strike. Thought I'd practice before they destroyed me completely. "
"You want to play with me?"
The question confused me. Why wouldn't I? "Yeah."
Something flickered across her face. Surprise, maybe. Or something deeper I couldn't identify.
"Okay."
We moved to the break room. The couch had seen better days, probably older than Jase's twins. But the PlayStation was hooked up properly, and I'd spent thirty minutes this morning on YouTube learning the basic controls.
The game was absurd. Physics that made no sense, impossible acrobatics, time manipulation that violated every law of relativity. But watching Katherine play with Amber and Lachlan, seeing genuine joy on her face, something in me wanted to understand it.
I handed her a controller and sat beside her on the couch. Close enough to feel her warmth, but not touching.
Not yet.
"Fair warning," she said. "I'm pretty good at this."
"I watched you with the kids. I know."
The game loaded. She selected her character without hesitation. Natasha Blade, the one from the movies. Made sense.
"You always pick her?" I asked.
"She's familiar. I know her moves, her weaknesses."
I nodded, understanding completely. I selected a character armed with the same rifle I'd carried in Afghanistan. I knew exactly how it handled, and could compensate for the sight being off at long range. Familiar weapons kept you alive.
We started on an easy map. I played carefully, methodically. Clear the area, establish fields of fire, maintain cover. Twenty years of training drove every decision.
Katherine phase-shifted through a wall and eliminated two enemies I hadn't even registered as threats.
"You're thinking like a soldier," she said.
"What should I be thinking like?"
"Natasha Blade. She doesn't care about tactical advantages. She trusts physics to figure itself out."
I died in an explosion that I should have seen coming. In a real firefight, that mistake would have been fatal too.
"See?" She demonstrated by jumping off the highest point on the map and ground-pounding my respawn location. "The game rewards chaos."
"That's insane."
"That's the fun."
We played through three matches. I adapted quickly, learning the game's internal logic. By the third round, I was using portal shots and dimensional gates, movements that would shatter every bone in a real person's body.
"You're a quick study," Katherine admitted after I finally eliminated her with an aerial combo.
"I have a good teacher."
She smiled, and it was unguarded. Natural. The mask she wore for cameras and interviews had disappeared completely.
I paused the game. "Want something to drink? There's water and soda in the fridge."
"Water's fine."
I retrieved two bottles, handed her one, and sat back down. This time a little closer. Close enough that our shoulders brushed when I reached for my controller.
She didn't pull away.
"Can I ask you something?" The question came out rougher than I intended.
"Sure."
"At Dollywood today. You mentioned something happened. What was it?"