9 THE COMPANY
It was after dark when Andy Marino, dressed in black, visited the rented house in a San Diego barrio. She slipped through a side door that led to the kitchen where a single below-cabinet light fought the gloom. Yingyi was waiting at a small wooden table. Andy dropped a manila envelope before him.
“Here’s the resume,” she said. “Get it to your contact in HR and have her deliver it to Valois without his noticing. Tell her to slip it in with other files and use in-house mail. Got it?”
Yingyi picked up the envelope. “Should be no problem.”
“Has to be done immediately.”
“Just like the accident that befell Jun Wu.”
Andy tapped a long finger on the table. “Exactly. And just as clean. I checked on the site where she drove off the road. Nothing to contradict the verdi
