“Booze is better. Mike, I’m as sure as can be there’s a new player in COE.”
“Talk to me.”
“Remember Paris? When we chatted with a young gentleman about his future?”
He was speaking, of course, of Adam Pearce, a brilliant young hacker who’d been invaluable in stopping that madman Manfred Havelock. After an obligatory three months in jail, they’d gotten him out, and now he worked for the FBI. She understood why Nicholas hadn’t used his name on an open line—the FBI were also responsible for keeping him safe until Adam’s antics against foreign governments were smoothed over.
“What about our young friend?”
“I want to use him. He’d be great bait.”
“So soon? He’s so young and he’s been through a lot. This is a major case. It may be too much too soon.”
But Nicholas understood Adam Pearce, recently turned twenty years old. “He’s tough, talented, and I think he’d be perfect for the role. We have to get inside the organization. Their previous help was murdered. They’ll need someone new to continue the attacks. What with the cyber-attack and Bayway, I’ll bet another young hacker with a grudge against the world can’t wait to join the fun.”
He was right.
“Will you make the call?”
She heard typing.
“Done. I’ve sent word. As soon as I hear something, I’ll let you know.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No. Doesn’t matter. What I have in mind he can do from anywhere.”
“Will you be able to sleep now?”
He laughed. “Yes, I do believe I will. Sweet dreams to you, Agent Caine. Thanks for the ear, and the agreement.”
Fancy that, Nicholas had acted like a real partner, called her to get her opinion before acting. She smiled as she climbed into bed. Sweet dreams? You bet. But short ones, given it was four something o’clock in the morning.
23
QUEEN TO A3
Chicago
Adam Pearce was staring at the brightly lit Chicago skyline when his phone beeped that an encrypted e-mail had arrived. It wasn’t his personal phone, but the special cell the FBI had provided.
It was the middle of the night. Why had they chosen now to make contact? He hadn’t heard from them in weeks, not since he’d been placed in this apartment and told to lie low. He was bored. He needed to work, to stretch his brain, to do something.
The e-mail was simple.
We have a job for you. Call in.
At last! His brain lit up like Christmas, his blood roared. Even though Adam still chafed at the idea of working for the government, it was better than rotting in a federal prison or being extradited to one of the many countries he’d worked against. His call sign was no longer Eternal Patrol. Now his call sign was Dark Leaf. He’d spent the last few weeks skimming around the darknet, spying on his brethren. Carefully. If the rest of the hacker world knew he was working for the government, there’d be a contract on him by morning. There were still a lot of very powerful people in the world who would like to bury him deep.
He built in a second layer of encryption so his voice would be garbled to anyone who might be listening in and dialed the number. Paranoia had always been his watchword.
Nicholas Drummond answered the call, said immediately in his posh British accent, “Did I wake you?”
“No.”
Nicholas laughed. “Ever the hacker, keeping night hours. I don’t sleep much myself. How are things? You’ve been comfortably relocated, I trust?”
“Yeah, yeah, things are fine, but Nicholas, I’m so bored I’m tempted to hack Director Comey’s computer and tell him to give me something to do. Please tell me that’s why you called.”