Page 44 of Avenging Jessie
He had to be somewhere in the building. Watching? Tracking her? She could almost hear him in her head—don’t rush in blind, J, make it a win, not a suicide run.
She clenched her jaw.
This was Hastings, the man who’d taught her tradecraft before turning on everything they’d stood for. Every instinct screamed to take the shot, to finish it now. But instincts were exactly what Brewer and Hastings counted on.
Her gaze drifted back to the glowing screens, lines of code flickering faster than her eyes could follow. Langley was the big prize. If they got in, the fallout wouldn’t just be career-ending for every agent in the field—it would be life-ending for some.
She couldn’t risk being taken down here, in this basement, before warning Spence and the others. He’d have a plan for neutralizing the threat without handing them her corpse as a consolation prize. And as much as it burned her to admit it, his approach was often the best one.
She eased back into the shadows, muscles tight, forcing herself to retreat instead of engage.
For now.
Jessie shifted her weight, careful not to scuff her boot against the concrete. She took one step back. Then another.
From somewhere behind the row of server racks, Hastings’s voice carried to her. “Where’s the guard that should be outside the door?”
“Said it was break time,” one of the women said. “Guess he’s taking a long one.”
Hastings grunted, but it had the edge of suspicion to it.
The guard she’d incapacitated.Shit.
She turned toward a bank of giant servers to slip through them and see if she would find another exit. Hastings would be too antsy about the one they’d both entered through, and keeping an eye on it. She needed a new way out.
A shadow detached itself from the gloom at the end.
Tall. Broad. Familiar.
Spence.
God, he was going to kill her, but she was both relieved and annoyed that he was here. In the basement. Watching her.
Their eyes locked across the dim glow of the spill-light. He gave the slightest shake of his head—don’t blow it—and then he was gone again, melting back into the darkness as silently as he’d appeared.
Jessie’s pulse kicked up. Where was he going? She moved to follow, like a shadow between the racks of humming servers. She quickened her pace, rounded the end…
And froze at the cold press of steel against her temple.
“Evening, Agent Mendoza,” Hastings murmured, voice oily with satisfaction. “What an interesting surprise.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. The gun was as real as the hand on her arm steering her forward.
“I take it you’re the reason my guard has disappeared. One of my tricks, I bet. You always were a good student.” He disarmed her and pushed her ahead of him. “Let’s not make a scene. Walk.”
He guided her past the servers into the hackers’ den.“Ladies and gentlemen,” Hastings announced, “we have company.” He shoved her into a chair, the metal legs screeching against the concrete. “Meet the legendary Jessie Mendoza—traitor, survivor, and, if the rumors are true, the only one Harris Brewer has failed to break completely.”
The kids smirked, barely looking up from their keyboards. Hastings leaned against the table beside her, both guns in hand, casual as a cat with a cornered mouse.
“That’s the trouble with legends,” he said. “Eventually, you run out of luck.”
“Now that’s ironic, mate,” a familiar voice said from off to her side. “I was just about to say the same thing about you.”
Hastings stood and stiffened, his eyes cutting toward the dark aisle of server racks. Around the table, computer alarms began going off, the hackers turning frantic eyes on their screens as they began pounding at the keyboards. “What the…?” one said. Another, “I’m locked out!”
Spence stepped into the light, holding up a slim flash drive, expression carved from stone. “I’ve just shut down your fire sale operation and given each and every one of your minions here a virus that will corrupt their codes and programs.” He winked at Jessie. “Guess that bonus you were going to give one of them will have to go toward your attorney fees.”
Eighteen
