The four of them froze before turning in unison to stare at the image of Friday. Miriam felt a chill climb up her spine. She waved her hand in front of her desk and mentally brought up the chief of Northern Territory Enforcement.
“Yes, ma’am,” the woman barked. She’d been born into the military and breathed Enforcement in all its forms.
“Friday Jones. Full investigation. Leave nothing uncovered.”
“When do you want it?”
“Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The image disappeared.
Miriam stared at the blank glass of her desktop.
“You think she’s with Freedom,” Ju-Long said the words everyone else was thinking.
“I hope to hell she isn’t.” Serge thrust his fingers through his overgrown hair. “If she is, then this just got a million times worse for all of us. Because this comedy show”—he pointed at the newsfeed—“has let her know how important the information inside her head is to us.”
Miriam had to clench her teeth to stop herself from thanking the man for pointing out the obvious.
Their four companies might control the civilized world, but if the scientist was working with Freedom, she had the information inside of her that could ignite a war. Freedom needed something to unite the people behind it. And Friday Jones could do exactly that.
“We’ll get her.” It was a promise. Miriam held the eyes of her peers.
“Yes.” Ju-Long stared back at her. “Yes. We will.”
There were no other options.
Chapter Seven
“You’re a terrorist.” Striker folded his arms and glared down at the woman he’d claimed. The woman who was now his responsibility, and whose expertise he badly needed to help his team come to terms with the anomalies in their genetics. Anomalies that would get them all killed if they were ever discovered.
She shot to her feet. “I am not.”
“Yet you admit you’re involved with Freedom?”
“I pass on information. That’s it. And the information I’ve been able to give them hasn’t even been that useful. It’s mainly about the work I’m doing. Nothing earth-shattering or innovative, only run-of-the-mill biotech.”
He pointed at her head. “They download your data?”
“No. CommTECH would know if someone else accessed it. I had a secure communications link, and I contacted them once a week to tell what little I knew.”
“They’re looking for a way to take down CommTECH.” It wasn’t a question. Freedom was very vocal about their aims. They wanted a world run by elected officials—the way it used to be—instead of a world run by big business.
“They intend to take down the big four. To wipe the slate clean. Start again. Build a system that favors the poor. One that gives people like me choices. Right now, there aren’t any. You either sign away your life to a company for an education, or you scrape a living doing whatever you can. That isn’t a choice. It’s slavery.”
“Yeah, yeah, Freedom is noble. They’re fighting the good fight. Let’s arm the proletariat and rise up against our oppressors.” It was the main theme of every history book he’d been forced to read in high school.
“You’re being facetious.”
“It’s one of my many skills. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it when you were making inquiries with your Freedom buddies. Did they tell you where to find me?”
“Yes, they gave me your location when I messaged my contact after I got the order to come in for an upgrade. They said you had the skills to help me. For a price.”
Striker didn’t like that one bit. He thought he was flying under the radar—from official and non-official organizations alike. “They told you to get to La Paz?”
“I worked that part out on my own. Where else would I find the antidote?”
The look on her face said she thought he was a complete idiot for asking. That attitude would help her cause. Not.