When the rogue arm of the CIA tries to kill billionaire RAYMOND SINCLAIR after he double crosses the shadowy organization, he discovers the beautiful and spirited intern he fired, EVELYN SIMMONS, holds the key to saving his life and his Silicon Vall...
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Lori Jacobs studied the enigmatic man seated across the table from her in the concrete bunker. Casper Winterman's prematurely white hair was parted with laser precision. The benevolent smile on his face reminded her of an evangelical pastor, but instead of being lit with a passionate fire, his eyes were as colorless as dead ashes.
Benevolent, until someone crosses him.
She watched the Intelligence Operative steeple his fingers as he thoughtfully chewed on an expensive cigar. His low, raspy voice raised every hair on the back of her powerful neck. From what she'd heard, he was both feared and respected in the halls of power. She coughed and fought the urge to gag as odorous, ecru-colored smoke wafted past her face.
All of her life, she had presented an image of tough invulnerability. Right now, she was terrified. The secure underground location she had been directed to made her feel anything but safe. If it wasn't for Satoshi's whispered promises—her alluring touch—she never would have met with this Central Intelligence Agency monster.
What was that old saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.
"We've heard chatter over the comms about PROJECT ICARUS." He grabbed his cigar between his thumb and forefinger and leaned back in his expensive leather chair, "What is it?"
Lori leaned back in her dented aluminum chair and matched his body language. They had probably tortured people to death tied to this banged-up piece-of-shit seat she now inhabited. She would have to bluff the bastard. "How the hell should I know? Sinclair keeps his pet projects up his metaphorical ass crack. Do you think I wanna go sniffing around there?"
And who was this mysterious WE the evil dick referred to?
He slid a palm-sized device across the table to her. The high-tech screen displayed glowing, cobalt-blue symbols. "You recognize this code?"
Lori guffawed, "I helped invent this code."
"Good," he grunted. "Tell me what this software does."
She shook her head. "Unfortunately, I can't. This is partially encrypted—I'd need the decryption key to decipher it." She pushed the device back towards him. "Listen, I was never privy to Sinclair's classified work." She smoothed her tie with the palm of her hand. "I've made my choice." She raised her chin. "I've submitted my notice and I'm getting the hell out of there at the end of the month."
"Then the timing is perfect." A satisfied smile formed on his reptilian lips. "Before you go, I need you to do something. We have a new agent embedded in CENTIEN. She's been trying to compromise Sinclair, but after his relationship with Satoshi Nakamoto flamed out, he's been skittish with women." Casper leaned forward and flicked ashes from his cigar into a heavy round, glass ashtray. "I need you to work with her to get our people super user access to CENTIEN's security system. Will you do that for your country?"
