Well, this is an unexpected turn of events.“Yes sir.”
Sitting, I squeeze my wife’s hand under the table. Perhaps, because of her RF work, those in power do not want our actions scrutinized.
The ambassador’s assistant, a bird-like Mr. Fromm, enters the room and shuffles out stapled briefings. “Please read the printout. You will find copies in your inbox. Not signing isnotan option.”
As I speed through the pages, my jaw drops. According to this official document, my wife had been on loan, helping the Lithuanians fend off Russian Cyberattacks. During the weekend, she took a hike, wandered into Belarus, and was taken custody. The American government negotiated for her release. The end.”
Gwen frowns and turns to me. “This makes me look dumb.”
Despite the seriousness, I chuckle and nudge her knee. “Shush and sign.”
“Well, it does.” Because she uses her outside voice, the room’s mic crackles.
“Is there a problem, Dr. Wulf?” My boss pops up in the center of the celebrity squares.
Seeing how my spouse is about to blow a gasket, I answer for her. “No sir.”
Then, I sign my John Hancock, and hand my pen to her. “My wife was remarking on the graciousness of the offer. Weren’t you, dear?”
“Mmm.” Thank God, her claws retract, and she signs.
While Fromm collects our papers, Peter points to the door. “If you please, everyone out, except for Mr. Slate, theWulfs, and Mr. Smith.”
With the room mostly empty, I swallow hard and wait for the proverbial other shoe to drop.
Faces begin to disappear from the screen, including, to my surprise, Kaplan. Only Vice President Goode, Admiral Drake, and FBI Director Quail remain.
The military man on the wall clears his throat. “Dr. Wulf, please summarize how you just happened to wander into the most guarded research facility in Europe.”
“I might suggest, you download this program first.” She types a URL and a username into the chat window. “When you’re ready, I’ll send you the password via encrypted SMS.”
Mr. Smith, who has said nothing up to now, hands her a phone.
Seconds pass, then the VP’s eyes widen. “Hold on. Someone, get us a more secure connection.”
The images on the wall disappear, and Gwen grins. “That’ll teach them to treat me like an idiot.”
Soon, three new squares appear. Two have logos in the background of the largest tech companies on the planet.
The youngest, a guy in his early twenties in a Yankees ballcap, has a raspy, yet high tenor voice. “Yes. It’s real.”
A fortyish woman with a red jewel above the bridge of her nose tilts her head. “On the surface, it does appear to be a GPSspoofing application. More time will be needed to authenticate it.”
“Oh, it works.” My brilliant spouse nods emphatically. “Check six-oh-five this morning over the Belarus-Lithuania border.”
“That was you? You downed over half the globe!” The admiral’s jowls wiggle and the furry white caterpillars over his clear blue eyes raise.
“You’re welcome.” Gwen’s face is bruised, deep circles line her eyes, and she’s got leaves in her hair. To me, she has never been more beautiful.
I hide my snicker behind my hands. Jesus, she is glorious.
Mr. Smith reaches into his jacket pocket and unfolds a map. “Where is this research facility?”
Slate stands, snatches the paper, studies it, and then points. “The runway is here, the villa here, the bunker there.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen and ladies.” As he swivels toward the door, Gwen grabs his arm. “There was a kid. Said his name was Ghost. He helped me escape. Cut him some slack?”
“No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.” With a curt nod, he disappears.
