Wicked Sexy

43

“Yes. Exactly like that.”

Under the weight of her simple admission, the room falls into stunned silence. Harry shoots me a stony glance, and I know with chilling certainty what he’s thinking.

Tabby hacked the National Security Administration and stole their software.

If that’s true, she’ll spend the next few decades in prison.

All the blood drains from my face.

Tabby rolls her eyes and sighs. “You guys, relax. It’s my program, okay? I can prove I developed it. And I’d never go near the NSA servers, anyway—even I’m not that crazy.”

After a moment, Harry asks, “And what does this program of yours do in terms of counterstrike?

Specifically.”

A smile works its way over Tabby’s face. “Well, without getting overly technical, once the program detects an attempted breach, it follows it back to the source and launches malicious code in the originating system.”

Harry looks dubious. “Which then does what?”

She shrugs. “Anything from wiping out data, to gathering data, to making a little white cat dance on every network monitor that can never be bypassed, thereby rendering the system useless. That’s why Søren’s so mad right now. He’s getting a taste of his own medicine, and it tastes like shit.”

Rodriguez frowns. “A dancing white cat…” His gaze falls on Tabby’s Hello Kitty watch. His eyes widen. He sucks in a breath.

Harry asks irritably, “What now, Rodriguez?”

Rodriguez breathes, “She’s…Polaroid! She broke into NASA’s mainframe, Citibank’s, the Church of Scientology’s, the Department of Defense…you name it, Polaroid’s done it, and always left behind a dancing white cat, just like that one!” He points accusingly at her watch.

The sound of fifteen FBI agents gasping in unison is one I’ll never forget.

Undaunted, Tabby says calmly, “Oh keep your panties on, Rodriguez. I’ve never heard of this Polaroid, but I’m sure only a guy would be smart enough to do all that, right? Besides, lots of girls like Hello Kitty.” She smiles sweetly at Harry. “Including your daughter, as I recall.” When Harry cuts his gaze to me, my blood freezes inside my veins.

This is highly dangerous. I have a millisecond to decide which side of the law I’m on, because if the FBI thinks Tabby is a threat to national security and I defend her, then I’m a threat too.

But as fast as I have the thought, I just as fast realize I don’t care. Somehow over the course of the past few days, protecting her has become my number one priority.

I’ll think about what that means later.

I’m standing in front of Tabby in full-on bristling battle mode before anyone can even blink an eye, my legs spread apart, my nostrils flared, every muscle in my body tensed to steel. I snarl, “Anybody wants to try to get to her, they have to go through me!”

17

CONNOR

N

o one moves.

After a long, silent moment, Ryan says drily, “Brother, you’ve got a lot to catch me up on.”

Harry sighs and looks at the ceiling. He mutters, “Lord, give me patience.” Then he looks at me. “No one’s trying to get to anyone, all right? Now stand down, we’ve got a job to do.”

Rodriguez protests, “But sir! She—”

“Shut the f**k up, Rodriguez!” thunders Harry, red-faced. “If I wanted your opinion I’d give it to you! Make yourself useful and go get me a cup of coffee!”

A livid Rodriguez glares at Tabby, and then spins on his heel and stalks out.

Harry irritably instructs the rest of the gathered agents, “Everyone else take a meal or rest break. Have your asses back here in an hour. Chan, you stay.”

Slowly the agents disperse, whispering among themselves, shooting Tabby curious glances over their shoulders as they leave the room. When the last of them are gone, Harry turns to Tabby.

“I think we need to have another talk, Miss West. But for right now, let’s get on with it. What were you saying about a game?”

With a hand on my shoulder, Ryan gently pulls me a few feet away so I’m no longer blocking Tabby.

“Hide and go seek,” she says, looking at me with even more curiosity than the agents looked at her.

My heart is throbbing wildly from all the adrenaline coursing through my body, and I’m having a hard time controlling my breathing. I have the vague thought that it might be useful for me to go find something elsewhere to break to relieve some of my tension. I haven’t felt this f****d up and pretzel brained in… Ever.

“What does that mean?” asks Miranda. She’s been watching us all so quietly, I’d almost forgotten she was here.

Tabby replies mysteriously, “It was Søren’s favorite. He won’t be able to resist.”

Something about the way she says it makes my skin crawl. Ryan’s grip on my shoulder grows a little tighter. He murmurs, “Easy, brother. Take a breath.” “And?” prompts Harry.

“And if I can distract him long enough, we might have a chance to gather some clue as to his whereabouts. I’ve started a traceback. The longer my program spends in his system, the better chance it has to gather data before he discovers it and shuts it down. But if I engage with him, it might stall him a bit.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her. “You said earlier you knew how to contact him.”

“I do, but it won’t give us his location.”