"A public library, Gray?" Toby whispered, leaning over the bulky, beige monitor of the computer terminal. "We have a million-dollar corporate account and a penthouse suite that costs more per night than my car is worth. Why are we sitting in the Palo Alto Public Library surrounded by kids reading Dr. Seuss?"
Grayson didn’t look away from the glowing cathode-ray tube screen. His fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard with practiced, rhythmic precision. "Because the penthouse internet connection routes through the hotel’s localized switchboard, Toby. It leaves a digital fingerprint. What I am about to do requires absolute, untraceable anonymity."
"Untraceable anonymity?" Toby echoed, glancing nervously at a librarian reshelving books two aisles over. "Are we hacking the Pentagon? Beca
