Page 5 of Jacob

Focus.

Dylan Gardner cocked his head, eyes steady. “So, Alex. Tell me your problem and Black Inc. will do its best to find a solution.”

It would, too. She only hoped she had enough money. The mission to Sierra Leone had cost the CDC a cool five million dollars. Of course, what she needed wouldn’t cost that much, but whatever it cost, it would be worth it to establish the truth. She didn’t trust any other company and if hiring them wiped out her savings, so be it. She could always earn more.

She bent to retrieve a flash drive from her briefcase and placed it on the desktop. “In there are some files that I downloaded from Elias’s work computer. He had secondary security and he gave me his password, so I felt justified in downloading his hard disk. He’s been missing for three days ,and I fear that something has happened to him. And above and beyond that, I fear that there might be some national security issues, given what he was working on.”

Dylan frowned and picked up the flash drive. He was about to fit it to his own computer when his cell sounded. The opening bars of theGame of Thronesmusic. “I would ordinarily ignore that when with a client, but that’s top brass calling and I have to take it,” he apologized.

Alex nodded. When the top brass called, you answered. “Sure.”

He tapped his ear and said, “What is it? I’m with a—” and stopped abruptly. He sat up straight in his chair as if an invisible general had entered the room. She wouldn’t be surprised if under the desk he clicked his heels. “Yes,” he said and nodded. And then, to her surprise, his eyes shot to her, as if someone at the top levels of Black Inc. were talking abouther. “Yes,” Dylan said. “Yes. Right away. Understood.”

OhGod. Was she already in trouble at the CDC? She hadn’t even done anything yet. All her suspicions were firmly locked in her head. She hadn’t talked with anyone. The only person she could possibly tell was Karen, and she was attending a seminar on Viral Epidemiology in Kyoto. As far as Alex knew, the CDC couldn’t read minds. Yet.

Dylan tapped his ear again and stood. Startled, Alex rose too. Was the interview already over? Was something wrong? Was she going to be escorted out by security? And if so, what was she going to do then? Because Elias was still missing and her suspicions—which had robbed her of sleep these past three nights—were still there, too.

“Dr. Hethering. Alex. I am going to have to ask you to come with me.” Dylan picked up her briefcase with one hand and took her elbow with another. He allowed her to pick up the flash drive, then started walking. He didn’t hurt her in any way, but it was clear that she was either going to go with him or leave her elbow behind. They walked in silence out into the hallway where he took an elevator at the end of the hall that required a security pass to access. She stared at their reflections in the mirror-like steel panels as the elevator took themup. She looked frozen and he looked tense. He checked the time on his expensive wristwatch. They were on a schedule?

“Am I being kidnapped?” Alex asked politely.

He shot her a glance out of the corner of his eyes. “No ma’am. Alex. If anything, you are getting the white glove treatment.Superwhite glove treatment.” He lifted his eyes to the steel panel set in the roof of the elevator cabin. “Orders from on high.”

There was no chance to ask questions because the elevator opened out onto the roof where a luxury helicopter was waiting, its rotors already slowly spinning. Dylan hurried her to the helicopter, helped her up the steps and secured her seat belt himself. The noise was deafening until he fit a helmet over her head and Muzak Mozart filled her ears. Probably chosen by an algorithm and polled by a focus group to soothe helicopter passengers, bring their heart rates down. The pilot looked back at Dylan, who’d pulled on his own helmet. Dylan raised his thumb and the pilot immediately lifted off the roof and banked steeply. She sank in her seat a little. The seat was luxurious, buttery dark-brown leather, immensely comfortable.

Alex tapped on Dylan’s shoulder, pointed to her helmet and mouthedturn on the microphone. She needed to speak with him,right now. He sketched a smile and shrugged his broad shoulders. He was trying to convey that he didn’t understand, or that there were no mics. Which was nonsense. Alex had ridden in plenty of helicopters, though none as luxurious as this one—and they all had an on-board comms system.

Her tap was harder this time, on any other person borderline painful, but she knew he wouldn’t be feeling any pain. The shoulder she tapped was iron hard, incongruous under that expensive suit. She narrowed her eyes and he gave a sigh which she couldn’t hear but which was clear nonetheless. The Muzak stopped and she heard, “Yes, Dr. Hethering?”

So we were back to formality, were we?

She was feeling a touch of panic, but she would rather die than let that show. “I repeat—am I being kidnapped,MisterGardner? And I will tell you right now I do not appreciate being shanghaied and strong-armed into a helicopter.”

This time she could hear the sigh. “No, doctor. You are not being kidnapped or shanghaied and I certainly haven’t strong-armed you. I was given strict instructions to take you to the very top of the company and to make sure that you were very comfortable every step of the way. And it was also made abundantly clear that my job depends on your being comfortable and well cared for until we arrive.”

“Arrive where?”

“Sorry,” he said and gave an apologetic shrug.

“What?”

“I have my orders, doctor. You are to be given the white glove treatment, as I said. You will have the full attention of the top brass and every resource that this company has will be brought to bear on your problem.”

“You don’t even know what my problem is.” Alex refrained from shouting only by immense self-control.

“No, doctor, I do not. And right now, it would be pointless for you to tell me your issues because I won’t be dealing with them. My job right now is to get you to headquarters safely and in as much comfort as I can marshal for you.” He reached to the side, opening a cupboard. Turning around, he held a flute half filled with bubbly liquid. “Champagne? It’s excellent. Bollinger 2022.”

Alex opened her mouth and shut it. Screaming and railing at the man would do no good. He was looking at her with an open, resigned expression and something told her that if she slapped him, he’d take it silently. So, venting her anger and frustration on him wasn’t worth it. Would be cruel, even. She herself operated under a strict hierarchy and she knew how that worked. You did what you were told. And if you didn’t, you paid the consequences. She was willing to pay the consequences for herself, but she had no reason to cause this man harm. He was just following orders.

So she folded her arms and looked out the window at the scenery flying by beneath them and ignored him. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him gulping the champagne down as if it were a fortifying medicine.

There was silence until they reached their destination, a small airfield she’d never seen before. The pilot set the helicopter down near a sleek private jet that had the steps down and a smiling pilot waiting at the top of them.

A jet. Unease returned. It was a corporate jet. She didn’t recognize the make, but she recognized the type. The top officers of the CDC flew around in them and they had a considerable range. At the end of her flight, she could find herself in Miami or Chicago or Seattle—or even out of the country—with no say in any of it.

Dylan stood, took off his helmet, and held a big hand out to her. She hesitated.

“Nothing will happen to you, Alex,” he said gently. “You have my word.” So we were back to Alex, were we? She looked into his light-brown eyes and saw nothing but a steady kindness. Sighing, she took off her helmet, unbuckled the belt and stood with his help. He carried her briefcase for her. When they were on the tarmac, she turned to him.

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