“All good,” he replied. “Are you still at Carrera’s?”
“No, I’m back home.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t think we should work here. It puts the group at risk. When we caravanned out, each driver had a lookout. It was crazy.”
“They’re in a tough spot because they don’t know who they can trust.”
“They can trust each other.”
“Have you seen this group? They aren’t individuals, they’re a pod.”
Her laughter touched his heart. “What’s the plan?”
“We should work at my home,” he replied. “It’s secure?—”
“We’ll start there tomorrow.” She opened her laptop. “Let’s stay here today.” She got busy typing, then glared at the screen. “I can’t get into ALPHA’s website.”
“Maybe I can help,” he said.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to see?—”
He opened his laptop, logged in, and spun it around. “I’m already in.”
Her eyes widened. “They said you don’t have access?—”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.” He shot her a smile, and damn if she didn’t smile back.
She moved to the other side of the conference table, so she had her back against the wall, then pulled out the chair next to her.
“For me?” he asked.
She shot him a smarmy look. “You catch on fast.”
He moved beside her, took her laptop, and did some troubleshooting. He isolated the problem, then asked her to try again. She got in.
“Nice.” She toggled around. “This looks completely different from the last time I had access.”
He laid out the map he’d taken from the terrorist in London. “A gift from a Haqazzii terrorist.”
After reviewing the map, she said, “I hear they’re very generous gift-givers. Did he give you his life too?”
“No. I took that.”
Once again, she eyed the circled buildings, then shook her head. “This is bad… and a lot of pressure.”
“We got this.”
“Are you always this cocky?”
“Always,” he replied.
She stayed focused on him for an extra beat before eyeing her laptop. “I’m running a report on all ALPHA employees who worked here five years ago when The Bomb Maker took out the first team, then I’ll cross-check it against current employees.”
She got busy, then glanced up. “How ‘bout you?”
“I got accepted into a chat group with supporters and sympathizers of the Haqazzii terror cell.” He toggled to the dark web, then over to the popular website.
She glanced over, did a double take. “That site sells illegal weapons.”
He turned the laptop so she could see. “Firearms, explosives, bomb-making kits, training courses. It’s a magnet for haters of democracy and capitalism.” He logged into the account and a different screen populated. “This is where I found out The Bomb Maker is back.”
