Chapter Fourteen
It had only beenthree full days since leaving Montauk, but that time was inching along as if it were three decades. I was slammed with one highly critical meeting after another, and barely had a moment to shoot a few quick texts to April. I hadn't heard from her since yesterday morning, but I figured that was a product of one of her many professions.
Maybe she wasn't an avid texter. Maybe I needed to haul my ass back to Montauk if I wanted her attention. Not that I could fault her for that. She was worth the drive.
But I was left with a craving for April that no amount of work could silence. The time we'd spent together was short, but powerful. I missed her presence, her conversation, her humor, her body. I wanted a hit of that to diffuse the stress I'd packed on since returning to the office. Beating the shit out of the heavy bags at the gym was a sad substitute.
My teams were still running down leads on the bugs Renner planted in my apartment. It didn't appear they'd been in place long, but they were high-end models that could pull data from any device within a certain range. That meant my phone, tablet, and laptops had been compromised, and now we were scrambling to determine what Renner might have grabbed.
As if all of that weren't enough, it looked like Renner was going to submit a bid for the Riyadh deal, too. The odds were good that he'd been able to snag the presentation and terms I'd offered. With that leg up, we were certain to lose the deal. It was time to put all of these developments in front of Will, and get his take.
I tapped my phone to make the call, scowling when I realized April still hadn't replied to my early morning messages. Not only that, it had been more than twenty-four hours since receiving any response from her. She was too responsible to let her battery die and go unchecked for hours, and that left dueling concerns expanding in the pit of my belly. Either something was wrong or she was backing away from me.
"Jeremy," I called, hoping the senior analyst was within earshot. "Jeremy. Get in here."
I was scrolling through my texts—Mom felt it necessary to continue sending Marco's regards—when the tall, twentysomething hacker extraordinaire leaned against the doorframe. He nudged his glasses up his nose and took a sip from his iced coffee as he watched me. "What's up?" he asked.
I scribbled April's number on the notepad beside me, tore it off and thrust it toward Jeremy. "Run this down. I want to know the last time this number was active, and the towers it pinged."
He studied the paper for a moment, nodding. "You want a full download? Calls, texts, account info?"
That gave me pause. I tapped my pen against the desk as I thought. I had copious amounts of intelligence at my fingertips, but I wasn't about to start stalking April. I wasn't that guy. I simply wanted to confirm that she was all right. If, for some asinine reason, she didn't want me around, I'd respect that. I'd fight like hell, but I'd respect her while I did it.
"No." Jeremy's eyebrow arched, and it was clear that I didn't sound convinced. "No," I repeated, more certain now. "Last active and towers. That's all I want."
"Yeah, no problem," he replied, glancing at the number again. He pointed to the door. "You want this open?"
I shook my head. "Close it," I said, thinking back to my original intention of talking things over with Will. "I need to make a call."
When the door clicked shut, I tapped Will's contact information and waited for him to answer. He was busy preparing the logistics for an operation next week, and we didn't usually talk by phone unless there was an issue. In that sense, his response was unsurprising.
"What's wrong?" Will asked immediately.
"Should've killed Renner when I had the chance," I said. "He's bidding on the Riyadh deal."
"Let him," Will said. "There's nothing good about that deal. I hope he enjoys it. Just wait. He'll have a Stillhouse-branded keffiyeh soon enough."
I laughed, but there was no humor behind it. "It looks like he walked off with a shitload of our data."
"How in the fuck did this happen?" he asked. "I want to know how the actual fuck this occurred, Kaisall. What kind of toys does this motherfucker have that he can break through our systems, and what the fuck did he steal?"
I walked Will through the information that I had to this point. We couldn't do much about files that Renner already had, and we were altering tactics and targets as much as possible to prevent the original information from being actionable.
"There are more questions than answers," I said, tapping my pen against a stack of papers on my desk.
Will was silent for a moment, but then asked, "How long have you been sitting on these updates? A couple of hours or a couple of days?"
"Since yesterday morning," I said.
"Would've been nice to hear about this sooner."
"I know," I said, groaning. Of all the problems at hand, keeping Will updated shouldn't be one of them. That was all on me. "I didn't expect Renner's attempts to be successful. I figured he was working with basic bugs that accomplished little more than listening to me watch SportsCenter."
"Fuckin' Jocelyn," he said.
"Fuckin' Jocelyn," I agreed.
"What's the next move?" he asked.
