Jenna Ervin

KHABAROVSK, RUSSIA

“Listen, Ace. I know you’re skilled at cracking encryption and firewalls, but my grandmother works faster than you.”

The sarcastic vote of confidence in her micro earpiece did nothing to focus her fingers as they flew across the keyboard in the dimly lit office.

“Not helping, Matthews,” Agent James hummed back to her partner.

“It’s a wonder you’ve gotten anything accomplished on this mission by yourself. What’s the holdup?”

“Do you want to do the computer hacking instead?” she asked.

“No thanks. I’m safer running surveillance here across the street. Seriously, I thought you knew where the files were?”

“You know I’ve been undercover as Pizano’s aide for two years. I practically wrote the files. I’ve already copied his financials, the list of global offices and subsidaries, and current production and sale contracts. I’m grabbing everything for the new SGM missiles as a bonus.”

“Don’t get cocky. If you get nailed, I’m out.”

She ignored the quip and opened a command prompt for a deeper search of the hard drive. Without warning, all the open windows on the screen disappeared to reveal the desktop, and the cursor moved of its own accord.

“Shit, someone remote accessed his computer.” Her adrenaline spiked and she held her breath. She sat motionless at the desktop afraid the mysterious user could somehow see her sitting there.

“Compromised?” Matthews asked.

“Not sure.”

She watched the terminal window open and the remote user started typing command-line shells.

“Niccolo Pizano, you two-timing bastard. A hidden folder is being added to the system.”

“He knows how to do that?”

“No. He’s a figurehead, not a damn computer genius. He’s not tech savvy enough for this; he relies on me to do it all for him. Someone else is setting this up.”

“What are the contents?”

She watched with bated interest and scanned the file names being added by the remote user. “A dozen files... they all involve Khabarovsk. Must be something for our current project.”

The cursor opened a file Khabarovsk_Personnel and she studied the document on the screen.

CIBO Operational Handler—Clay, P.

Accounts Payable—Corrigan, M.

Risk Analyst—Blake, T.

Intelligence & Documentation—Tobin, N.

She read the names and felt the world shift under her feet.

“Holy hell. We have a major problem. This file has classified personnel details with operational officers for our current mission.”

“Bullshit. This mission has been running under the highest classification for three years.”

“I’m just telling you what I’m looking at—from Clay at the top, down to documentation.”

“What else?”

Text appeared on the screen to update information on the personnel list.

Senior Field Agent (Deep Cover)—James, B.

Senior Field Agent (Surveillance)—Matthews, B.

She choked on a breath. She read over the names again, convinced she had imagined the letters typed on the screen. James and Matthews. Her heart pounded in her ears as her nerves acknowledged the new addition before her brain could comprehend what this meant. The unwelcomed heat of panic grew in her chest and rose up her neck despite her intense agency training.

“Matthews, we need an emergency extraction.”

“Come again?”

“We’ve been made. Whoever remote accessed this device just added our names to the document.”

“Your undercover name?” he asked.

“No. Only agency identities. Nothing connecting me as Juliette.”

He hissed a curse. “Who’s adding the intel?”

“Unknown.”

“Run a trace.”

“I can’t run anything. The remote access is still live.”

“Keep monitoring the activity. I’ll call Clay.”

She watched as a new document Khabarovsk_Brief_26.04 was uploaded to the hidden folder. The document title caught her attention and her training demanded she explore the file immediately. She dug her nails painfully into her palm to stop herself from opening the file while the remote access was live and giving away her position. The more she watched the screen, the more something about the computer actions before her looked eerily familiar. A tremor built in her gut.

“Something isn’t right about this. Whoever is remote connected is doing everything I would do.”

“Is it standard computer hacking?”

“Not with the cutting edge network security Pizano’s got in place.” Her brow furrowed. “The terminal access, these command-line shells, the hidden folder… these are CIBO protocols.”

After what felt like an eon, the cursor lay frozen on the screen. She counted to thirty in her head to ensure the mysterious user had disconnected.

“Remote access ended. I’m pulling up the folder now.”

She wanted to explore the entire folder but agency training taught her the most vital details would be in the most recent upload. She opened the file and her brain clouded with more confusion. Laid out on the screen was a duplicate copy of the mission briefing she and Matthews had received that morning, including new surveillance targets and an updated timeline for the mission.

“Matthews, what’s the timeline for the extraction?” she asked.

“Still waiting. They want a report on what you found in the folder.”

“Aside from this morning’s compete CIBO mission brief?” she deadpanned.

“Repeat that?”

She opened a few other files and reported out as she explored them. “It’s all here—every briefing, intelligence report, and operational document on this mission since it moved to Khabarovsk three weeks ago.”

She typed in a series of quick commands and her fingers halted on the keyboard. “This can’t be right. The file uploads originated from CIBO, U.S. Division.”

“Run that by me again?” he asked with disbelief.

“It’s an inside job.” Her breathing came in quick bursts. “Matthews, get me out of here.”

Matthews argued with muffled voices on the other end of the line and she pressed a finger to her ear to hear the conversation better. A heavy silence followed and the lack of response over the earpiece punched her gut. The labored sigh from Matthews confirmed all she needed to know.

“The extraction is a hard no, Ace.”

“On who’s authority?”

“Director Delevan. The file doesn’t connect you to your deep cover name. Risk Analysis deemed you uncompromised. Delevan put a freeze on all requests for extraction. Your direct orders are to delete the folder.”

Her blood turned to ice. “Excuse me?”

“You orders are to delete the hidden folder and all contents.”

“The folder is too sensitive. If Pizano knows it’s supposed to be here, and it goes missing, he’ll be forced to reach out to his contact.”

“Correct.”

“His contact is clearly technology proficient. He can easily trace the computer history and building logs to tag me. I’m the only other person with access to Pizano’s private computer. It’s too obvious if the folder goes missing.”

Matthews’ next word echoed like an executioner’s shot.

“Affirmative.”

“I’m being relegated to goddamned bait.”

Matthews’ continued silence was deafening.

Her muscles coiled tight. “I’m a Maverick agent, not an Incendiary. Delevan doesn’t get to leave me here to burn.”

The wheels in her head were flying to find a way out of the situation. Without authorization from Director Delevan or her Operational Handler, Agent Clay, nothing could happen with a support team. Matthews’ hands were tied as well. She was truly on her own.

“Fine. My move.” She opened a desk drawer and grabbed a flash drive she knew Pizano kept. Like she told Matthews, Pizano couldn’t grasp modern technology advances and relied on older familiar methods. She plugged in the flash drive and typed a series of quick commands.

“James, what are you doing?”

“I’m not deleting this folder without a backup insurance policy. I’m copying the entire hard drive for myself.”

“You don’t have time.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“Negative, there’s no time. Pizano just arrived at the building. He’s coming inside now and moving fast.”

“I’m not a burnable!” She pounded keys on the keyboard and started the file transfer so she’d have access to examine the cloned hard drive later. “Eighteen minutes left on the download.”

“…Sorry, Ace.”

“Dammit, Matthews, don’t write me off yet.”

“I wish there was another way.”

“Don’t end this. There’s still time.” She worked furiously at the keyboard and urged the remaining files to copy faster. “The hidden folder is deleted. Got a little grace, only thirteen minutes left on the full download.”

“Negative. Zero seconds left. There’s movement at the external office door. Shut it all down—Do you copy? Shut it all down.”

The handle of the private office door turned and the door swept across the carpet to reveal a slender, dark haired, Italian man. Niccolo Pizano. Her nerves lit up faced with the threat of compromise and an unpleasant—and most likely painful—future.

“Juliette? Burning the midnight oil?”

Her earpiece crackled with whispered reassurance from Matthews. “If you can still hear me, play it cool. He may not have seen the updated files in that folder. Assume you’re uncompromised, but clear the computer before he sees the damned screen.”

She plastered on a confident smile and calmly closed the terminal and hidden folder windows while she attempted to verbally cover. “Nearly done, Niccolo. I found a few errors in the presentation for tomorrow. I wanted to correct them before morning.”

Pizano crossed the office floor to preview her work. He walked into view of the screen as she cleared the last open window and managed to open the actual presentation to corroborate her story. He set a heavy hand on the back of her chair and leaned in close to watch her work. She made an arbitrary correction to the presentation for his benefit.

“I’ll save these changes and we’re good to go. You’re guaranteed to be the man of the century tomorrow.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Run a much tighter ship and be wildly more successful.”

He chuckled at her response and squeezed her shoulder. “Humble as always.”

When he walked back around the desk toward the office door, she took the opportunity to force close the applications and windows she had been using and palmed the flash drive from the computer. She knew her backup files hadn’t finished copying but anything she managed to steal was better than nothing.

She followed Pizano to the door and he stepped in front of her to block the exit. “You work far too hard for me. Join me for an evening drink.” He pulled her close, wrapped an arm around her waist, and breathed a seductive whisper against her neck. “I could use your company tonight.”

“You know I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“Because you love the chase.”

She prayed he couldn’t feel the erratic pounding of her heart as her nerves betrayed her or that he would attribute it to a false desire. She put a firm hand on his chest and offered him an alluring smile. “Perhaps another time. I need to go over a few more details for tomorrow.”

He growled with longing and followed her out of the office with a hand pressed to the small of her back. “You can keep trying to deny me, Juliette, but one of these days you will give in to me.”

#

In light of the compromising data she encountered on Pizano’s hard drive, James argued with Agent Clay that the mission had become too high-risk. Unfortunately, her request for an emergency extraction was again denied since it appeared her deep-cover persona was still uncompromised. Beyond that, the biggest buyers for Pizano’s operations—high-target arms dealers, warlords, and heads of private armies—were scheduled to attend an exclusive weapons assembly meeting the next morning. A meeting of this scale had not been undertaken in years, so James’s inside position was deemed an absolute necessity for the success of the long-term mission and global security.

She had never been more on edge than when she stood outside the conference room with Pizano.

“Juliette, you’re abnormally tense today. Are you sick?” He laid the back of his hand against her forehead and swept down her cheek to feel her temperature. “You’re much too reserved and polite. It’s not like you.”

Sirens blared in her head that he suspected her and she tried to cover with sarcastic theatrics. “You’re right, Niccolo, something is wrong. I’m just so overcome by your power and rugged Italian looks that I’ve decided to finally give in to you.” She stepped into him and pressed a hand to her chest. “I don’t think I can control myself any longer.”

The hint of a grin formed on his lips. “A bit melodramatic, but I’m glad to see you’re still in there.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. With one last smile, Pizano burst through the doors to the meeting with flair that commanded attention.

Inside the meeting room sat a long conference table surrounded by eight dignitaries, each one backed by his own armed security man. The atmosphere was jittery and unstable. Pizano strode to his seat at the head of the table while addressing the eight tribunes to let them know he meant business.

“Gentleman, let’s cut to the chase. The new Satellite Guided Meaconing Missiles are ready for sale. I am prepared to ship you each two missiles today at one-hundred million apiece. Any questions?”

A scar-faced African arms dealer spoke up. “Pizano, we all know of your reputation and that of your employer. What we don’t know is the end price of a partnership with you. What do you require?”

“Eighty percent of each of your organization’s annual revenue and your guarantee of absolute loyalty as buyers.”

A eruption of shocked dissent spread around the table.

“Are you insane? How are we to survive?” a Southeast Asian dignitary asked.

Pizano remained straight faced. “If you want my protection and the limitless backing of my employer, that is the cost. Once you’re self-sufficient, the contract terms will reduce annually to thirty percent in perpetuity. You already understand the benefits and power that come with this partnership or you wouldn’t be here right now.”

An older middle-eastern delegate steepled his hands at the table. “Before I sell you my soul, tell me about the rumor I’ve heard regarding your issue with CIBO. Is it true they’ve infiltrated your offices?”

The atmosphere in the room edged toward volatile at the question. Whether the dignitaries previously knew of the rumor or were just hearing the news was unclear. In either case, it was unwise to question and provoke the Italian mogul.

Pizano’s eyes narrowed and his voice was hard. “Simply rumor, gentlemen. I’ve had my man investigate some things through our network monitoring. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

At that moment, a spectacled man entered the room.

“Speak of the devil. Gentleman, this is Mr. Losev, head of network security.”

Losev nervously wrung his hands together and approached Pizano at the head of the large conference table. It was clear the news he came to deliver was highly urgent and treacherous territory, which could result in his death from Pizano’s well-known wrath. He turned his back to cut off the rest of the table from his privileged information and bent close to Pizano’s ear.

After a quickly whispered message, Pizano’s heavy brow knitted into the most furious scowl any of the associates at the table had ever witnessed from the power lord. When he spoke his voice was low and dangerous.

“Mr. Rahmani, to more accurately answer your question, Mr. Losev has just informed me that there was nothing out of the ordinary until last night. We haven’t been aware of any previous issues because Juliette has been so wonderful at her job.”

Pizano clenched his fist on the table. “Now it appears Juliette has become a little too good at her job.” He turned his attention to glower at her and his lip curled. “Although I shouldn’t be surprised—given your training and reputation—Agent James.”

Her real name echoed around the table and settled the room into an icy silence. Her heart threatened to explode from her chest as everyone in the room tensed in alert. She covered with a forced smile at her boss and tried to appeal to his better nature. She needed to maintain control before bloodshed.

“Niccolo…” She subtly pushed her notepad forward on the table so it knocked over her water glass; the standard duress code for her team. There was a discomforted shuffle of chairs as the dignitaries at the table scooted back to avoid the stream of water. She anxiously waited for sniper shots to crash through the window to provide her cover.

Unfortunately, the shots never came.

It was then that Matthews’ words echoed in her head. The extraction is hard no. You get nailed and I’m out.

She understood CIBO’s protocols well enough to understand her fate. Director Delevan and Agent Clay had knowingly sent her to the meeting solo and pulled the rest of the team out. She was the only deep-cover operative named in the file on Pizano’s computer. Rather than compromise the other agents on the case around the city, the agency had cut her off as a burnable.

Damn.

Pizano’s jaw clenched with absolute fury at her deception and he slammed his fist down on the table. “Get rid of her.”

In a millisecond, she calculated her options and percentages of survival. Without the agency backing, her chances were beyond grim. With nothing to lose, and death staring her in the face, she pushed back her chair, grabbed the holstered gun of the nearest man, and placed two rounds squarely through Pizano’s heart.

It took everyone in the room a few seconds to realize what had happened.

Then everything descended into hellish chaos.

She tried to protect herself against death’s handshake as all guns were pulled from holsters and aimed at her. She grabbed the nearest man’s tie in her fist and wrapped it behind his head to keep him pinned in front of her as a makeshift shield. Bullets rippled his body and wood and glass sprayed her neck as stray shots hit the walls and furniture around her. Outnumbered and out-gunned, she had little chance to return fire and settled in to fight until the end.