Blowback (The Black Cipher Files Book 1) (16 page)

“I like to read about people.” Even famous people’s lives contained a normalcy missing from mine. “Family influence and dynamics.”

I had none. No one to sway me, encourage me, or even discourage me.

On the other hand, I was keeping our country safe. And I was keeping Bella safe.

Lucas stilled. “Where’s
your
family, Jamie?”

“Gone,” I whispered, regretting the admission immediately. I yanked open the last drawer and there it was.

My badge. The badge I’d had on me when I’d been abducted. The badge with Staci Grant’s name on it.

I didn’t make a sound and yet Lucas picked up on my distress. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He came up behind me, stared at the lone content of the drawer. “It’s your
fake
badge.”

I cleared my throat. It was the fake badge. One with another woman’s name on it, yet they’d replaced it in
my
apartment. I didn’t like the implications. At all.

I’d just filed the paperwork to inform the NSA personnel department of my change of address. Chances are it hadn’t gone through yet. Only Carson knew where I lived. Unless he’d been compromised. Could that be why he wanted to speak in code on the phone?

Either that or someone, some agency, knew where I lived and that I was undercover as Staci Grant.

“How would your abductors know you were impersonating Staci Grant?” Lucas laid a hand on my shoulder.

I was rattled. “They knew who I was.”

“In the warehouse?” Amazingly he knew what I meant. “And you’re just getting around to telling me?”

“Maybe.”

“So they kidnapped you, not Staci?”

“Yeah.” All the information pointed to me. But I couldn’t shake the idea that Staci Grant and I were connected some way I just wasn’t seeing yet.

“Then we need to keep watch.” Lucas stretched. His t-shirt pulled from the waistband of his jeans showing a thin strip of bare skin.

My mouth watered.

“Get some rest. I’ll take a look at Staci’s files for you.” Maybe I’d find a concrete connection between Staci and myself. I held out my hand, wiggled my fingers.

Lucas rubbed a hand over his head. “Not without me.”

Resolutely, I pulled out a chair, turned it around, and straddled it. “Let’s get started.”

***

My Honda wasn’t nearly as nice as Staci Grant’s Lexus. I tried not to let the comparison bother me. For the most part, it didn’t.

I had simple tastes. In my line of work, unremarkable was necessary. But as I drove through the gates of NSA headquarters, I wished for the powerful purr of that cherry-colored Lexus, with the V-8 engine, leather-wrapped steering wheel, and smooth caramel leather seats.

The guard stopped the car, checked my license plate. I relaxed in the driver’s seat, waiting for the okay. The complex wasn’t exactly bustling at six in the morning.

While Lucas was in the shower, I had collected my mission evidence: the cup with the liquid from the syringe, the syringe, and I’d downloaded the scientific data from my abductors in the warehouse onto a new flashkey.

I had hoped to add the information from Staci but no matter how carefully I searched Lucas’s pockets and the van, I hadn’t been able to find the information we’d downloaded from Staci Grant’s computer.

So I shoved the evidence in my leather backpack and left him in my shower with a note on the kitchen table. There wasn’t anything in the apartment to steal and I was moving soon anyway. Plus what were the odds it would be that easy to get rid of him?

I glanced in my backpack one more time, making sure the cup was still there. Hopefully there wasn’t any smell that would catch the bomb dogs’ attention.

I still had Staci’s badge and frankly, I loved her clothes. So I’d dressed in her linen palazzo pants, a fine amber color, and a long-sleeve wrap around top in white. I’d blown my hair dry into a sort of wavy, natural style and added a fair amount of makeup, swiping confident red lipstick across my lips.

I couldn’t disguise that my eyes were bleary from lack of sleep and hours of staring at the computer screen. We’d never gotten into Staci’s files and at five had given up. I had memorized my information on her and couldn’t come up with any real leads on her password.

After parking, I headed for OPS 1. Using a phone in the lobby, I called office of the one techno-geek I actually knew by name. Fortunately, he was also the guy who had worked on that encryption program and he’d asked me out repeatedly.

I infused my voice with a friendliness I really didn’t feel. “Hey, Zeke. Got a minute?”

After confirming he had time to see me, I headed for the High Security Portal and entered the glass booth. I was entering the complex with the Staci badge, my own was with Carson. I swiped my fake badge down the reader, and then wondered if my Staci badge had clearance. As soon as the retina scan started, I relaxed.

After the load cells measured my body weight, clearing me to enter the highly classified area, I stepped out of the portal and headed for Zeke’s office.

He opened the door and ushered me inside, staring intently at me for a minute. “You aren’t here to take me up on the date thing, huh?”

I gave him the ‘don’t ask’ stare but surprisingly he held my gaze. And I really looked at him. He didn’t look much like the geek he was. He was attractive, in that bulky, wrestler sort of way. Only about five foot ten, but very well-defined upper body and a really tiny butt. I knew he did some rock climbing. That was where we’d initially met. I’d caught his spot rope, saving him from a nasty fall.

“I don’t date--”

“People you work with. I get it.”

Actually no, but explaining that I didn’t date at all just seemed to incite men to challenge. I’d learned that one years ago.

I realized I might have played it wrong. I needed to soften up a little if I wanted his assistance and purposely let my body relax.

“Don’t bullshit me,” he said brusquely, shoving his hand through his blond surfer dude hair. “Just ask.”

My estimation of him went up another notch.

“Out in the Real World should there be a program with your encryption protecting it?”

His ocean blue eyes widened. “No way.”

“It sure looks like yours.” I hesitated, hoping he would ask to see it.

“Not possible.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his forearms rippling with tension and his gaze cutting away from mine. “Can I see it?”

I hesitated for a minute. The vacuum sealed rooms were hushed, interrupted only by a slight hum from the heating and cooling system. If I appeared too eager he’d know he’d done exactly what I wanted.

He snorted in disgust. “Jesus. You’re playing me.”

I blinked. He was the second person in the last few days to get a line on my true motives. Was I losing my touch? “I’m trying to give myself a good reason to show you evidence.”

“Just give me the damn file,” he said. “Your secret is safe.”

I needed confirmation but a big part of me still had a hard time handing the information over to him. I wasn’t sure what was going on with Carson, so at this juncture, Zeke was my only option.

“Okay.” I handed over the computer files from the warehouse. “Can you disable the encryption so that I can actually access the data?”

“If it’s my program.” He made a twirling motion with his hand. “Turn around.”

“Why?” I pretended to be bewildered.

“Because I don’t want you to watch me and then be able to disable any other files.”

I huffed out a breath. “Jeez, you’re a hard ass.”

“I learned from the best.” He flashed a smile at me, his perfectly aligned white teeth gleaming. Now he was trying to butter me up. It wasn’t working. It really wasn’t.

I turned to the side and listened to the tap of his fingers on the keyboard. My eyes shifted to the poster on the wall, ‘Loose lips sink ships’, obviously the marketing department had gone retro for the new set of reminders not to talk about your work. They’d also conveniently covered the poster in glass, so I could stare at the reflection of the computer screen. Carefully, I noted the keystrokes and path he took to disable the program. Just in case I needed the skill again.

“Son of a bitch,” he ground out. “This is mine. Where did you get it?”

So either someone in the NSA was behind the kidnappings, which made no sense whatsoever, or someone had stolen our technology. Neither scenario gave me warm fuzzies.

I turned toward him. “You know I can’t tell you that.” My mission code was the absolute highest.

“We’ve got a breach.” He stared hard at the screen, a confused frown on his face.

“I’ll note it in my report.” Later.

“Yeah.” He stood, so close we were only about a foot apart. The clean scent of him filled my head as he placed a hand on my shoulder for emphasis and I felt nothing beyond the warmth of a brotherly touch. So I guess my recent obsession with sex was focused strictly on Lucas.

“This is a problem, Jamie.” He looked completely freaked.

“I know. If you look the other way, can I use your computer to research some information?” That way the breach couldn’t be traced back to me and when they traced it to him he’d have deniability.

He dropped his hand. “Yeah.”

I needed to know the names and any other personnel information I could get on the abductees from the NSA. I knew a few were from the CIA so those wouldn’t be accessible...unless I could somehow access the deeper layers of my mission file.

I thought for a minute. “Are you able to get into code Umbra files?”

Zeke reared back. “You want to break into code Umbra files.”

Code Umbra files had extremely high clearance. Only a few people in the country had access because the information was so sensitive it usually had global implications.

“Yeah,” I said softly, soberly.

“Is someone coercing you? Are you being blackmailed?” He stared at me intently, as if he could see straight into my soul.

I just looked at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Right. What was I thinking? The ice bee-yotch doesn’t have any vices, any friends or any damn vulnerabilities.”

I thought about Bella. He was wrong. “Can you get in?”

“Are you
trying
to commit career suicide?”

I ignored him. “Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria and use your employee code to buy a cup of coffee so if this is traced back to you, you can honestly say you had nothing to do with it.”

“Fuck that.” He pulled the chair out and slammed down into it. “Tell me what you need.”

“You really can’t look at the file.”

“Fine.”

I whispered the mission name.

He clicked away on the computer for a few minutes, furiously typing. He squeezed his eyes shut, like a little kid who really, really didn’t want to see. “You’re in.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“You have more integrity than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m putting my whole career in your hands.” He took in a deep breath, blew it out slowly and stood, keeping his gaze squarely across the room. “Don’t screw me over.”

“I won’t.” I memorized the contents of the mission file. I didn’t have time to analyze the information now. Just the fact that I accessed the file was grounds for immediate suspension. I scrolled quickly through the information, one notation caught my eye.

5491
.

Staci Grant had a file folder of the same name. What was the connection? What was 5491?

I had to look this up while I was still at headquarters. The NSA computers were unhackable. They weren’t connected to the Internet. We had our own Intranet to share information with other agencies but if you wanted information stored at the NSA you weren’t getting it anywhere but here.

I accessed Werz’it, our internal search engine and typed in 5491. Nothing. No records. No data. Nothing.

According to the system, 5491 didn’t exist.

EIGHTEEN

After he read my report, Carson requested I meet him in the hallway off of VTR–261.

A Vault Type Room. He didn’t want me in his office. That news did not reassure me.

Carson was at the end of the long wide hallway. He strode toward me, his wing tips thumping along the carpet in a quick tempo, while his gaze swept up and down, looking me over.

The fluorescent light rippled over the creases in his bald, black head. “How are you?” He reached for my hand and squeezed. The demonstration of affection was huge, startling me. Carson was the closest thing I had to family, but he’d never shown me any physical affection. It was a line he never crossed.

He’d broken his pattern and I had to wonder why. As his fingers clasped mine, he visibly relaxed.

“Fine.” I pulled my hand away. “But I have a lot of questions.”

I strode toward VTR-261. The rustle of his wool gabardine suit whispered along the deserted hallway as he followed.

“You should get the key.” Carson grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the steel wall closet.

“Me?” I raised an eyebrow. Usually the person with the highest clearance entered their badge number and PIN to get the key for the restricted room.

“Mine might be coded.” He took a cloth handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat on his head.

It was sixty degrees in the hallway.

Carson believed if he requested the key our conversation would be recorded. I entered my information into the AKAM machine, and a robotic arm dropped the key into the retrieval bin.

I unlocked the door to the conference room. This whole mission stank to high heaven. Yanking out a wheeled chair from the small walnut table, I sat. “You read my report?”

Carson eased into a chair at the head of the table. He steepled his fingers, his manicured nails shiny in the low light, drawing my gaze to his hands. “I did. We also got some excellent intelligence from your ring transmission before you aborted. Talk to me.”

It was in my report, but I felt compelled to repeat it. “They kidnapped me, not Staci.”

“The evidence does seem to support that conclusion.”

I watched him carefully as I dropped the large clue that someone at the agency had to be involved. “They were tracking me through my implanted beacon.”

“Unlikely.” His mouth turned down.