Page 80 of Duplicity

“Maybe you should focus on what you’re doing instead of daydreaming.” The man stood in front of the desk.

Simon shifted on the chair, just a stool and a thin back made of wood. It rolled two inches. It was irritating having to roll it back to the desk every time he shifted. “I’m figuring out a complex problem. It takes time and a whole lot of staring.”

The guy didn’t move. He just stared down at Simon with his shiny head and gray stubble on his cheeks. He had a scar above one eyebrow and dark blue eyes, almost gray.

“Are you going to stand there for three days until I’m finished?”

The guy said, “If that’s what it takes.”

Simon bit back a retort and wrote another line of code. Some of them were legit, others didn’t make any sense. If Lance could see what he was doing, he might not think anything of it. Simon could be trying out ideas or working out things that obviously wouldn’t work to get them off the table. His process was his process.

Problem was, he couldn’t simply stall and wait for help to arrive. If he pushed it too far, held off on actually making progress on the task, then they’d kill him because he’d already failed.

There wasn’t enough accessibility on the computer they’d given him to even get to the internet. All he could access were the server that hosted the communication network—where he’d seen the message that had to be from Cat—and the software to write the rotating connection algorithm.

Somewhere at the other end of the building, an explosion rocked the structure.

Dust drifted down from the ceiling.

The man standing on the other side of the desk turned to watch the tiny particles of the ceiling fall like the first flakes of snow.

Hope flared inside Simon like gasoline poured on a fire that came to life in a rush. Help was here.

The guard slid his gun from the holster under his left arm. He also had a stun gun on his belt and a knife. Simon had nothing but his jeans and the T-shirt he’d put on…however long ago that was.

Gunfire in the distance pricked his awareness, breaking through the thundering thoughts. The disbelief. The hope. The fear. All of it swirled in his mind, creating a rushing in his ears.

The guard pulled out a phone. He paced where he could see Simon as he waited.

No one answered.

He went to the door but paused and didn’t open it.

When the guy turned back to Simon, he immediately started typing again. Working the problem and making it look like maybe he hadn’t even recognized that something was happening. For all this guy knew, Simon thought an explosion and the sound of gunfire were normal for this place.

Maybe they were.

But the guard was getting concerned. Jiggling his knee as he stood there, then shifting his weight.

A door slammed down the hall.

Someone screamed, high-pitched, but it could be either male or female. A gun went off.

Simon kept typing, setting up a quick command he had preset into the communication network. A command that onlyproximity to the server would allow him to initiate. Being kidnapped and brought here meant he could do this.

If he could get to a terminal in the server room.

From this computer, he could start the process. It could only be completed at the source.

Simon finished typing it and went to press Enter.

The guard stomped over, dragged Simon out of the chair, and pressed the gun against his temple.

The door flung open, and Peter appeared. Out of breath. Sweat on his hairline, and pink cheeks. He’d fought his way down here to save Simon and, given the blood on his shirt, someone had been hurt.

Simon gasped in a breath.Oh, no.This wasn’t good. His brother had a thunderous expression on his face.

Peter lifted his gun and pointed it over Simon’s shoulder. “Let him go.”

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