Chapter 38
Sean
I’m a Marine, for fuck’s sake. Marines don’t cry. And yet, here I am.
Her tortured sobs rip away my sanity. Unable to resist, I pull her into my arms for the last time. As she crumples against me, her face burrows into my chest, tears soaking my shirt.
“Shh.” I stroke her hair, holding her tighter than I should. “We’ll figure this out.”
What’s one more white lie compared to the many?
Before I can let go, Dante pounds on the door. “It’s me. We need to talk. You guys decent?”
Depends. If by decent, you mean us bawling our eyes out over a relationship headed for the shitter? Absolutely.
“Give us a second.” A small shove sends Lillian toward the bathroom.
As she closes the door behind her, I wash my face, scrubbing away emotion.
One deep breath later, I open the door, faking a grin. “Hey, boss.”
Dante steps inside. Expression grim, his gaze sweeps over me and the two open laptops before settling on his other employee, who waves as she approaches.
“Didn’t expect you so early.” Nose red, eyelids puffy, she manages a tight smile. It doesn’t fool anyone, including our boss.
Eyes back on me, Dante’s neck muscles pulse. “If you want help taking down her father, I need you focused. Not…” He gestures between us. “Whatever the hell this is.”
For thirty agonizing seconds, he says nothing, watching us squirm.
Apparently satisfied, he finally exhales. “I’ll give you an hour. Afterward, I want an update.”
Once the door clicks shut behind him, Lillian’s lower lip trembles. “Can we do this? Work together? If not, I can quit.”
“No.” My voice catches.
“I’ll go back to L.A. I’ve got friends I can…” The lump in my throat makes it hard to swallow. “But I’m not leaving until Liam’s out of the picture.”
“Okay.” She turns on the waterworks—every damn tear because of me.
“I don’t want you to hate me. Isn’t it better to part now than let this fester?”
Her silence is my answer.
Sixty minutes later, hair wet from our showers, we trudge down the stairs. In single file, we enter the conference room.
Daedalus, in the flesh, stands and offers her his hand. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“I was beginning to think you were AI.” The bright smile Lillian shoots him shouldn’t bother me, but damn, it does.
When he lets go, I shake his hand, then take a seat next to Miserable Mace, whose dark circles are worse than mine.
Pouring myself a cup of coffee from the Box o’ Joe on the table, I grab an egg sandwich. As I take my second bite, Dante strides into the room.
His ceramic mug clunks on the glass tabletop. “What have we uncovered so far?”
Our boss scans the table resting on Lillian’s raised hand. “I found another Parkhaven-funded company, NanoMedico… Can I have the monitor, please?”
Once she’s granted access, a generic website pops up on the wall. Leading the Field. Science Helping People. All fluff.
“I know what you’re thinking.” She frowns at me, even though I didn’t say shit. “They’re heavily invested in nanobiology.”
“Where does it say that?” Dante comes to my rescue without me having to ask.
Of course, Lil grins at him. “It doesn’t. I found their spreadsheets.”
“You hacked their network?” Clearly impressed, Daedalus gives a long, low whistle, her cheeks flush. That blush, like her smiles, should be for me, not him.
Eyes bright, she shrugs. “Their firewall hasn’t been updated for some time.”
“Bravo.” Clapping, he laughs and touches her damn arm.
Enough flirting.
“Back up.” Unlike him, I’m paying attention. “What kind of nanotech are we talking about?”
Lilly focuses back on me, tone professional. “AI Stanley thinks they’re making antivirals… or viruses.”
Distracted, Dante types for a minute, glances at his phone, then asks, “Anyone got anything else?”
“Yeah.” Daed squirms in his seat. “I don’t know if this is pertinent, but the Rehabo drones that Fitz mentioned aren’t military. They’re toys.”
Money laundering. Drones. Viruses. Dear God… Is it possible? “Could a miniature drone deliver a killer virus?” I ask.
“In theory,” AI Stanley answers unexpectedly. Damn, I wish people would stop inviting him to our meetings without telling me.
But what if he’s right?
Shell-shocked, our analyst pales. “A million toys. A million potential weapons. If enough were sold through big-box stores, the crashes could create widespread panic. Authorities would have no idea how to respond.”
Lillian pulls her hair back into a ponytail. “Stanley, could NanoMedico manufacture a virus?”
“Certainly.” Someone ought to smash his fucking cheerful button. “Would you like me to explain?”
“No. We’re done.” Dante rises and taps his keyboard. When the wall monitor darkens, he walks to the window wall. Deep in thought, he gazes down at the street.
My imagination goes wild. “Surely, you don’t think drones’re sitting in homes across America, waiting for a doomsday command?”
Lillian’s fingers, seconds ago flying over the keyboard, stop abruptly. “Based on the purchase dates, not yet. That being said, both companies are ramping up production.”
Daed points to his laptop screen. “I have a satellite view of the Rehabo warehouse in Texas, if anyone wants to see it.”
Standing, looking over his shoulder, my stomach twists as he zooms in on a line of eighteen-wheelers.
“Are those all drones?” Lillian points at the hundreds of pallets inside the open metal container.
“Either that or there’s a rush on robotic housekeepers.” No one laughs, but I suspect Daed is making a point. Rehabo is not the benevolent company it claims to be online.
“We need to inform the FBI.” When Lil leans toward her computer, Dante strides across the room and snaps it shut.
“And say what?” His eyes dart around the table. “In case you all forgot, hacking is illegal.”
“Why not send a team to Texas?” To me, it seems obvious.
Raising her hand, Lil counters. “But what if this isn’t their first shipment? We need to destroy all the drones, every last one of them.”
Ignoring the rest of us, Dante focuses on her. “What are you suggesting?”
“Follow the money.” Her simplistic answer earns groans from every operator in the room, including me.
Mason, who’s been mostly quiet until now, pipes up, “Isn’t that what we have been doing?”
Lillian catches his eye. “Yes, but if my father is involved, there’s another set of books. Suppliers, shipments, phone numbers, order codes. Air-gapped, it never touches the internet.”
Daed raises his voice over everyone who starts to talk at once. “A week ago, Rehabo moved its headquarters from Delaware to Texas near the Alamo.”
“Where they’re loading the eighteen-wheelers,” I grunt. “Makes sense.”
“Right.” Lil shoots me the first real smile I’ve seen from her since we broke up. “Transactions will take place in bitcoin. Nothing online. Nothing easy to trace.”
Mason rolls his eyes. “So, there’s no way to infiltrate it.”
“You haven’t let me finish.” She shuts him down fast. “My father always has hard-copy backups. If he moved headquarters, you can bet he moved his ledgers.”
Dante places his palms on the table. “It’s settled, then. Lillian, you take the lead.”