Code Name Genesis (Jameson Force Security 1)

And if I’m lucky, he might make a move in public. I’ve got security on her house so tight the chances of him trying to attack her on this turf is unlikely. Him finding her on her own is more than unlikely because Joslyn’s not going anywhere outside this house without me or a suitable alternative.

“Go on,” I urge, relieved when she goes to her tiptoes to put a kiss on my lips. It’s soft and lingering without a hint of sex, but it speaks volumes to me. She turns without another word, leaving her office.

When she’s disappeared, I reconnect the call to Bebe. “I’m back. Listen… do the best you can. When you get a free moment, I want you to compile your dream list of equipment along with a rough estimate of the cost. And when I say dream list, I’m not just talking about for the stuff we’re doing now. Anything you can imagine that would give you access to anything we could ever dream of doing. Do you understand?”

“As long as you’re not going to ask me to use this stuff for evil,” Bebe drawls, and it makes me laugh.

“Do the best you can right now with what you have. Push whatever boundaries you need to. I’ve got your back.”

“I know you do,” she replies, and it occurs to me that she’s put a lot of trust in me in a truly short amount of time. She’s either a really good judge of character or she knows she’s got nothing left to lose. “Also… if you have contacts with the FBI as I suspect you do, they have the means to track this type of thing to an exact location. Of course, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to be where this guy is living or anything. But if you have a favor owed there, I’d collect on it.”

“When we hang up, tell Rachel to call Ted Griss,” I reply because it just so happens, I do. “He owes me a couple of favors, and she’ll get him working on this.”

“One more thing.” Her tone is hesitant, almost as if she had to work up the guts to tell me something. “I have an idea that might be able to lead us to him if he continues to send her stuff through the internet.”

“What’s that?”

“I was thinking… maybe I could lay a trap for him. Let him hack his way in for some information, then I can lay some code that will reverse track him.”

“But can’t he circumvent like you said before… with VPN or something?”

“Yes, but I’d plant a sort of virus that will attach itself to him, and well… so as not to get technical, it would be like leaving me a trail of bread crumbs to follow back to him, so to speak.”

“You can do that?” I ask.

“I don’t know. It’s really just theory.”

“What’s the risk? Downside?”

“He sees it,” she replies cautiously. “Reverse hacks me. Jameson. I mean, I don’t know his level of expertise, but it isn’t without risk. We could be poking a very smart bear.”

I consider this, not wanting to put Jameson at risk. While I have a lot of confidence in Bebe’s abilities, I’m not technical enough to know just how serious these risks are.

“I’m pretty sure I can hide my tracks,” she says. “But I can’t guarantee it.”

“Let me think about it.” It ultimately may be moot because if this guy is ready to make a move, it will probably be sooner rather than later. “Just do what you can right now with what we’ve discussed.”

“Got it. Later, boss,” she replies and disconnects. I like that about her. She doesn’t waste time.

I immediately flip through my contacts on my phone, then select Cruce Britton from the list.

It was eight days ago I interviewed him.

Seven days ago, he talked to a U.S. Senator and the director of the Defense Intelligence Agency, both of whom gave stellar references for me and my company. I also offered my mum’s phone number if he wanted to talk to her for a personal reference, but he declined.

Six days ago, he accepted my offer of employment. Of course, I wasn’t ready for him to start right away as I was dealing with this shitbag of a stalker, but I figured the signing bonus I gave him more than made up for the delay.

But now… I’m ready for him to start.

I tap on his contact, and he answers on the second ring by saying my first name. “Kynan.”

“I need you out here in Santa Barbara,” I say. I had filled him in briefly on Joslyn’s case when we last spoke, so it won’t take him long to get up to speed.

“I’ll book the next flight out,” he says.

“No. Head to the airport. I’ll charter a jet for you to leave tomorrow morning.”