Page 48 of Elite Metal: Warriors

Maybe something had happened. Maybe they’d been found out. Maybe he’d betrayed her to Ralley.

Each possibility made sharp claws clutch at her belly.

She’d known it was dangerous to reach out to someone outside the organization, but when she’d discovered evidence that her boss was involved in a heinous plot to fix the next senatorial election, she’d had to do something. She’d contacted James Halsey—a former NSA operative and her late father’s best friend. James was the only man she trusted.

He’d told her to stay put. That he’d be right over to take her into protective custody.

That had been hours ago.

Unable to stay still, she stood and paced. Her balcony was a small one, but it hardly mattered. She needed to move. Anxiety and frustration wailed within her. Everything prickled on her nerves—the bite of the wintery air, the sounds of traffic below, the annoying itch of the mandatory flu shot she’d had yesterday.

Where was he?

How long should she wait before she ran?

Should she run? If she did, where would she go? If she showed up at FBI headquarters with her accusations, who would even listen to her? The plot she’d uncovered was insane. Utterly insane.

Or should she just pretend nothing had happened? That she hadn’t come across that damning file? She hadn’t told anyone other than James. No one else knew what she knew. No one else knew she had this information and was planning to pass it on to the authorities.

But no, she couldn’t go back. Not now.

She cursed the day she’d accepted the position with ASTCORP, but it had been too sweet to turn down. The pay was phenomenal and the work was suited to her unique talents. She could have used her skills and training to work for the CIA or NSA, but government contractors paid so much more. And the benefits were far better than those offered by civil service.

The money made it easy to ignore the stringent working environment. Everything, from the cut of her hair to the clothes she wore, to the language she used in memos, was dictated by a draconian employee manual. They were subjected to full-body scans when entering or leaving the facility, as well as occasional strip searches. Their emails and phone calls were regularly monitored. Key cards tracked their every move…even visits to the bathroom.

But given the sensitive nature of the job, it had been understandable.

At first, that had all been an annoyance; Michelle was, at her core, something of a rebel. But she’d loved the work. It had been so exciting, hunting down enemies of the state. The Advanced Surveillance and Technology Corporation had helped neutralize more terrorists, criminals and crazies than any other intel contractor.

Only recently, she’d begun to suspect all was not right with the organization. She probably would never have noticed if her brain didn’t work the way it did. Like a computer, she was able to store and analyze data with unerring accuracy. She saw thousands of details a day. They all filed into the vault of her memory, then moved around and formed patterns and trends, making it easy for her to evaluate, interpret and predict enemy actions.

Today, a random file had crossed her desk. Something in her brain had clicked and a horrifying realization had cascaded into place. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, her boss, Ralley Carson, the CEO of the corporation, was in cahoots with a terrorist.

Vladimir Babikov was hardly a new name to her—to anyone in the intel community. They’d been watching him for years. Decades perhaps, going back to his days as a KGB Commander. He was on the terrorist watch list, but only because if his nasty habit of selling weapons to all and sundry—including extremists who were enemies of the U.S.. He was also connected in the drug underworld and, to her disgust, involved in human trafficking. More than one of his enemies simply…disappeared. Some of his allies as well.

It was terrifying to think what such a man could do if he had real power.

It was even more terrifying that the plot he and Ralley were hatching could give it to him.

Hell, it was terrifying that Ralley had turned. He was an incredibly powerful man in his own right, and the weapons he had—weapons the government had handed him on a silver platter—could bring the country to its knees.

In point of fact, the two were colluding to rig the coming election and put their minions into the senate. With the tech, the vast reaches of intel, and the surveillance technology Ralley had at his fingertips, they could. They could do it.

It had all the hallmarks of a coup.

They had to be stopped.

In retrospect, auctioning off access to elite levels of national security to the highest bidder might not have been the wisest move.

Once again, her bile rose.

Oh. Where was James? Where was he?

Michelle looked at her cell phone again, willing it to ring.

To her shock, the screen lit up just then. It wasn’t a number she recognized, but it had to be James. She nearly collapsed with relief.

Thank God.