Page 74 of No Lies No Promises

“Okay.” She turns on the waterworks—every damn tear because of me.

“I don’t want you to hate me. Isn’t it better to part now than let this fester?”

Her silence is my answer.

Sixty minutes later, hair wet from our showers, we trudge down the stairs. In single file, we enter the conference room.

Daedalus, in the flesh, stands and offers her his hand. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“I was beginning to think you were AI.” The bright smile Lillian shoots him shouldn’t bother me, but damn, it does.

When he lets go, I shake his hand, then take a seat next to Miserable Mace, whose dark circles are worse than mine.

Pouring myself a cup of coffee from the Box o’ Joe on the table, I grab an egg sandwich. As I take my second bite, Dante strides into the room.

His ceramic mug clunks on the glass tabletop. “What have we uncovered so far?”

Our boss scans the table resting on Lillian’s raised hand. “I found another Parkhaven-funded company, NanoMedico… Can I have the monitor, please?”

Once she’s granted access, a generic website pops up on the wall. Leading the Field. Science Helping People. All fluff.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She frowns at me, even though I didn’t say shit. “They’re heavily invested in nanobiology.”

“Where does it say that?” Dante comes to my rescue without me having to ask.

Of course, Lil grins at him. “It doesn’t. I found their spreadsheets.”

“You hacked their network?” Clearly impressed, Daedalus gives a long, low whistle, her cheeks flush. That blush, like her smiles, should be for me, not him.

Eyes bright, she shrugs. “Their firewall hasn’t been updated for some time.”

“Bravo.” Clapping, he laughs and touches her damn arm.

Enough flirting.

“Back up.” Unlike him, I’m paying attention. “What kind of nanotech are we talking about?”

Lilly focuses back on me, tone professional. “AI Stanley thinks they’re making antivirals… or viruses.”

Distracted, Dante types for a minute, glances at his phone, then asks, “Anyone got anything else?”

“Yeah.” Daed squirms in his seat. “I don’t know if this is pertinent, but the Rehabo drones that Fitz mentioned aren’t military. They’re toys.”

Money laundering. Drones. Viruses. Dear God… Is it possible? “Could a miniature drone deliver a killer virus?” I ask.

“In theory,” AI Stanley answers unexpectedly. Damn, I wish people would stop inviting him to our meetings without telling me.

But what if he’s right?

Shell-shocked, our analyst pales. “A million toys. A million potential weapons. If enough were sold through big-box stores, the crashes could create widespread panic. Authorities would have no idea how to respond.”

Lillian pulls her hair back into a ponytail. “Stanley, could NanoMedico manufacture a virus?”

“Certainly.” Someone ought to smash his fucking cheerful button. “Would you like me to explain?”

“No. We’re done.” Dante rises and taps his keyboard. When the wall monitor darkens, he walks to the window wall. Deep in thought, he gazes down at the street.

My imagination goes wild. “Surely, you don’t think drones’re sitting in homes across America, waiting for a doomsday command?”