“And why is that?” the president asked.
“If Kris had made it, Toronto would still be in the dark, relying on forty-year-old analog tech pulled out of basements.”
The room found yet another level of silence.
“What do you believe Flynn’s involvement with the sale of this device indicates, then?”
KC’s muscles flexed under the fine merino sweater Yardley had bought her last Christmas. If Yardley hadn’t known her and her body so well, she would’ve missed it.
KC was hiding something.
“If I knew what Kris was capable of,” KC said, “I would hire her to fix it.”
The president leaned back and looked around the room slowly. “And tell me, please, who here knows what Flynn is capable of?” Her voice bit off every word. They had gotten to the headmaster’s lecture part of the program.
KC’s expression shifted from nearly unreadable to surprised in a moment. She looked at the director. “I would assume every single one of you do. I disclosed all of this when I was recruited in extensive interviews with Dr. Brown. It should be in my file.”
The warning from Yardley’s intuition got louder as she examined each person at the table in turn. If Flynn had been in KC’s file, then Maple Leaf would have been looking at Flynn months ago, not trailing her once she popped up in a weapons bazaar on the darknet. Yardley didn’t get any weird vibes off the president or the director. Gramercy’s face was a closed book. But Atlas met her eyes, and there was something there.
“That is an excellent point.” The president’s gaze snapped to the director’s so fast, Yardley watched his hair blow back. This was not a good look for him. Then Ada Williams returned her attention to KC. “And in your association with Flynn, had you ever discussed or worked on this device or anything similar?”
The question was a bald one, following a series of baldquestions. Yardley felt like her entire soul was ripping in two as she tried to keep a grip on what she and KC had agreed on—pure professionalism—while watching the woman who had been more important to her than anyone on earth be interrogated by the president for what seemed like a good reason.
It turned out it wouldn’t be luxury that would tempt Yardley to abandon her post. She was a fool for love. Even the kind that didn’t belong to her anymore.
“Madam President, we had a lot of conversations at that time about how to use tech to solve problems. Yes, some of those conversations were about how to make systems like the grid more efficient and accessible and safe. Listen, though.” KC leaned forward. “With Maple Leaf, we’re in the trenches holding on to our helmets. I blew the Unicorn’s cover, so you can’t put her out there on this—not when Mirabel’s seen her, and someone on his team jammed our comm channel, and I crashed the party and made it even more obvious than it already was that U.S. intelligence is close enough to smell their cheap cologne. They’re gonna bolt the door and check ID from now on. No way they’ll let the Unicorn close. But Tabasco is another matter. I had a half-assed disguise, sure, except Yardley smashed his nose pretty good, so I’d be shocked if Mirabel got a good look at me. That Starbucks was chaos. He and his cronies might know who Tabasco is as an entity, but according to the world we’re talking about, I could be anyone. I could be more than one anyone.”
“Concise.” The president had leaned back in her chair. The rest of them should have had their mouths hanging open, but they were spies, so every face in the room had gone vacant as a three-week-old litter of coonhounds.
“No one knows me,” KC said. “And, even better for you, Iknow Kris. I’m guessing I’m at this table because it’s our top priority to secure her as an asset, and to hunt down every scrap of code that could conceivably belong to this device before it’s purchased and secure it, too.”
The president put her elbows on the arms of her chair. “You have anything else to say?”
“Only to ask when I can get started.”
She gestured at the director with her index finger. “McLaughlin, you want to take this? For example, what potential reservations the United States might have about assigning your officer to do exactly what she suggests, starting ten minutes ago?”
KC’s expression hardened. “There’s no call for reservations.”
“Not if you’re handled strategically for this mission,” Director McLaughlin said. “Keep in mind, if you had any field experience whatsoever, you’d be in custody right now while we sorted out what is or is not in your file and filled in your history with Kris Flynn more completely. But since we’re not concerned you have the skills to evade the agency, we’ve decided it’s worth the risk to put you on this. With appropriate supervision.”
KC looked at Gramercy. In his first sign of life since the meeting got started, he shook his head and pointed his gold Montblanc at Yardley.
That was when the room went dark, because Yardley closed her eyes in the hope she would be rendered invisible.
The CIA had kept her granddaddy assigned to tracking and cultivating a relationship with Levi Petrov for years after he went over to the Soviets.No one knew him better than I did, Yardley Senior had explained with a shrug.You know how the agency is.
She knew how the agency was.
“You were listening to us,” KC said, her tone flat and hard. “Earlier. In the hallway.”
No one acknowledged what she implied—that the people in this room had just had a front-row seat to the official breakup between the Unicorn and the last hope of Project Maple Leaf. So why not leverage everything the Unicorn knew about Tabasco at a moment when she might be a little less biased than usual?
The director shrugged. “Time is a factor. We need this device located and secured as soon as possible. We need Flynn. We need to know what Mirabel’s plans are for the sale, or for detonation. We can’t use the Unicorn in the usual way. As you’ve said, you’re uniquely qualified to find Flynn, and, so far, a basement full of techs with analysts breathing down their necks hasn’t been able to dig up any connection between the two of you since you left MIT, so we’re willing to take this risk and tip the odds in our favor as much as we can.”
Yardley heard her voice before she thought about speaking. “I can still access Miller. I’ve been to London several times to make brush contact with him for intel relevant to this mission. He’s deep enough undercover that he no doubt knows more than we do about the sale.”
“No,” the director said. “Better to go straight to the source if we can. It has to be Nolan.”
