Page 39 of Being Bold
Yumi grinned. “Exactly.”
Mulling that over, he realized Selene must’ve told Yumi who he worked for. But with the technology on that microchip recovered, his sole focus was protecting her. He didn’t see a need to get cozy with the man trying to wipe her from existence.
Frowning, Bo shook his head. “We don’t need anin. We need an out.” An exit strategy because Selene couldn’t remain on the run under TOP’s protection forever. When the rest of his teamgot here, they needed to come up with a plan to take that bastard Dao out of the equation.
“Yeah, eventually, but you’re jumping the gun, Captain America.”
“Also Army,” Bo told her, but without any anger this time. “How do you figure?”
“Weaponized AI, remember?” She shook her head. “Maybe you don’t care about that, but it’s kind of my job, so . . .”
The fire popped as a log shifted, making him jump. Sweat broke out on his neck. With a curse, he shoved to his feet. “I thought you had the chip?”
Yumi arched a brow at him but didn’t comment on his jumpiness. Because his brain liked to torture him, the scars on his leg burned, and he made a conscious effort not to scratch at them. “I do. But it’s only proof that the AI model exists. The amount of data that thing uses?” She sighed like she knew she’d have to give this explanation again. “It operates in the cloud. We want to get rid of it, we need to find the actual physical data sets.”
“Fuck,” Bo muttered and rubbed at the headache that sprang to life between his brows.
“Yeah. We have to find the servers they store it on.”
“There’s a server room in the Saber Tech building.” They both stared at Selene. He’d thought she’d been asleep, but apparently, she’d been listening.
Before hope could sprout in his chest, Yumi said, “I checked it months ago. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have what we’re looking for.”
Damn.Why is nothing ever easy?
Bo scratched at his beard as he thought about their probability of locating the servers.
Selene sat up, tugging the blankets around her upper body. “Um, can I have some dry clothes?”
Yumi smiled. “There’s a duffel for you in the bathroom. I grabbed some essentials from your apartment.”
“Thank you!” Selene leaned forward, pulling the smaller woman into a half-hug through the blanket she used as a shield.
Bo frowned at the covering. Her modesty was pointless. It’s not like he hadn’t already seen her in andoutof her underwear. Fuck. That’s the last thing he needed to think about at the moment. All that smooth olive skin. How soft it felt pressed against his own.
He avoided looking at her when she stood and headed for the bathroom. When the door shut, he let out a breath, corralling his thoughts before they got him in trouble.
Focusing on Yumi, he asked, “Where’s the tech?”
He felt he was being picked apart under a microscope when her gaze fell on him. Fighting the urge to fidget, he demanded, “Do you have it?”
A slow smile started at the corner of her lips and spread across her face, lighting up her dark eyes. “Yes.” Unzipping a pocket of her snow pants, she pulled out a tiny plastic bag. Through the clear material, the microchip caught the light.
He had an urge to snatch it from her hand, but that probably wouldn’t go over well. With a grunt, he asked, “What do you plan to do with it?”
He’d wanted to destroy it when he thought it contained the AI weapon, but now . . . he wasn’t sure that would make much of a difference. Not if the model was on a server somewhere, waiting to be used.
“Destroy it.” Yumi frowned and glanced toward the bathroom. “I’m not heartless. This thing has done enough damage already.”
She’d surprised him. The CIA had to want the information on that chip, but she was willing to get rid of it for her friend’s sake. Maybe shecouldbe trusted.
Testing her, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Won’t your people want what’s on that?” He nodded his head toward the bag in her hand.
She shrugged. “They know what I found out, but this . . .” She glanced down, clutched her hand around the chip, and made a fist. “Hand me that poker.”
Curious what she planned to do with it, he picked up the wrought iron fireplace tool and brought it over. She’d laid the chip on his coffee table.
When he approached, she reached for the poker. “Thanks.”
