Chapter Twenty-Three
Honey kissed Ira goodbye and scrambled into her apartment. Ditching her shoes at the door, she flipped on her computers to get started. All of them
Her second bedroom was fashioned into an office. She had five powerful desktop computers and her own server. There were ten monitors of varying sizes. She turned the air conditioner to high to combat the heat generated by all the equipment. She kept her personal laptop, one she never used for business, in the desk drawer.
She knew her computers were monitored by CSIS and the military. She wasn’t under any illusion her personal laptop was any different, but there was no sense in making her personal life any easier to access. She knew enough about computers to make stalking her more difficult.
She rushed back to the kitchen to turn on the kettle, then into her bedroom to change into sweats and a T-shirt. This was going to be a long session. She had at least three dozen chat rooms to visit before compiling her information and sending it to her boss.
“I shouldn’t have been dating. Dammit. I knew something was up. I should have put the clues together long before now.”
She tossed a teabag into her mug and sprinted back to her office with a bowl of sliced fruit and a napkin.
Using multiple computers and multiple monitors, she opened every chat room she visited and started snooping around. Casual conversation with people she’d interacted with for months, and in some cases years. She flipped back and forth between tabs and windows, checking out the action in two dozen chats.
On her fifth computer, she started compiling information as she learned it, adding the data to the information she’d sent on just yesterday.
“Why did I listen when they told me to let it ride? I knew better. I saw something coming. I just didn’t know what,” she mumbled to herself. Tawny stroked her ankles and Buster hopped up on the desk. “Down boy.” She set him back on the floor.
Her cell phone rang.
Cameron.
She was dreading this moment.
“Hey, Cam.”
“Dalton. Give me an update,” he barked.
“Nothing. I’m not seeing anything. The rooms are silent. That tells me there’s more coming.” He grunted his agreement and she rattled off her logic, sticking to facts, and accurate analysis as she’d been trained to do.
Cam asked dozens of questions before instructing her to keep looking and keep him posted. She signed off and resumed searching. She didn’t have enough proof yet, but she was certain she knew where to find at least two of the men pictured on the news.
She lurked in the chat they used most often, making random conversation with regulars and cautious chat with newcomers. Newcomers presented a possible danger. They could be regular people, but they might be terrorist sympathizers, terrorists, or terrorist hit men in search of government agents like Honey. It took time to feel out newbies and learn their alliances.
Four hours later, her phone rang again.
Ira.
“Honey, I’m outside with your car keys. Are you home? You aren’t answering your buzzer.”
“Crap. Sorry. I was sidetracked. I’ll buzz you in.” She scooped the cats up and left her office, closing the door behind her. She knew Ira was already curious about her sudden departure. No sense adding fuel to his imaginary fire. Okay, maybe not imaginary.
Two minutes later he stood in her doorway. Tall, handsome, his face wrapped in concern. Dang, she was falling for him and his kind heart.
“Are you okay? Is your friend okay?” He reached out to stroke her hair before handing her the keys.
“I’m good. I talked to Cam. Everything will be okay. He overreacted. I overreacted.” She shrugged. “There’s something about a friend who might be in danger which freaks you out, you know?”
Ira squinted and stuffed his hands into his jean’s pockets. “Copy that.”
She smiled at his casual use of the military slang for I understand.
He continued, “Nothing like a comrade in arms in danger to kick in the old instincts.”
Despite his agreement, she recognized his unease and unspoken questions. She was going to have to confess her job before they moved their relationship any further. Ira would have to be vetted, of course. But that shouldn’t be a problem with his military history. She hoped.
“Can I have a hug?” she asked, suddenly needing to be back in his arms and in his good graces. For the first time in a long time, she wished she could walk away from her job. It was starting to endanger her sanity and her heart.
