The Boss

by Melissa Schroeder

  “As long as those pieces are just the business,” he said.

  Rock poured himself a cup of coffee. Vic knew his friend well enough to know what was going on. He was stalling to come up with a plan. Rock was going to try and divert Vic’s attention. He was the cool one of the two of them. Oh, Vic knew he was built for command, but Rock was good with strategy. It was one of the reasons the two of them had been good working with each other. As Mac said, the yin and the yang that held the company together.

  “Listen, when you left, things sort of…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head.

  Vic’s gut twisted. Just what the hell had happened? He had been jealous before, but now he was starting to worry. Mac had some bad habits that usually ended with people maimed or dead.

  “Sort of what?” he asked, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  Rock looked up at him, his eyes filled with regret. “She fell apart, Vic.”

  That was not what he’d expected to hear. He blinked, trying to gather his thoughts, but failed. “What?”

  “She fell the fuck apart. Everything. She wasn’t herself. You hurt her badly this time.”

  He felt that telltale guilt creep into his conscience. He had done what was best for him, for Mac, for the goddamn company. If he had stayed, it would have been worse for all of them. He refused to take the blame for everything that went wrong in his absence.

  “And?”

  Rock slammed his coffee mug down on the counter, ignoring the way it sloshed over the sides. Of course he did. Rock was a slob.

  “Listen, I watched the strongest woman I know cry as if she didn’t want to live anymore. It was bad enough we were having to work with a man down, but when it became clear you weren’t coming back, she stopped showing up.”

  “She skipped out on work?” Vic tried to wrap his head around that idea. Mac was a lot of things. Bad-tempered, ill-mannered, and she always shot before asking questions. But one thing Mac always did was show up to work. She never flaked out or disappeared on anyone. Once she made a commitment, she was there until the end. Even when people walked out on her.

  Rock nodded. “On work, on life. Hell, she was just getting back into the groove of things, when this happened.”

  Vic found he couldn’t fight the guilt. It swamped him, as did a fair dose of anger. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Rock’s gray eyes were filled with regret. “She forbade me to call. You know how she is.”

  He’d caused this. He’d walked out, mainly due to his pride. Dammit. “Fuck. This is just so…fuck.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How is she now? You said she’s pulled it together.”

  Rock nodded. “Yeah, and it was one of the reasons I went along for this job. I wasn’t too keen on working for any government agency, but this drew her in.”

  His friend said nothing else, and the silence stretched. Vic knew he had to make things right with Mac, but there was one thing still bothering him.

  “So, nothing else happened?” Vic asked.

  Rock’s brow furrowed, and then understanding blossomed in his gaze. Horror moved over his expression—along with a fair amount of disgust. “No. Ew, no. You know I think of her as a sister.”

  “Yeah.” That was just how crazy this entire thing was making him. Contemplating a sexual relationship between Rock and Mac was stupid. With a sigh, he scrubbed his hand over his face. “I just had no idea. Both you and Jay should have called.”

  “Do you think I didn’t think about it? She made us both promise not to call. If we had, she might have shot us. You know she would have done it, too.”

  “Sure, but she would have taken you to the hospital, at least.”

  Rock snorted. “There is that. But it got worse.”

  “How worse?”

  “She was talking about moving back to the UK.”

  The idea had his stomach clenching. Mac loved her country, but with it came her family. Dysfunctional didn’t even cover it when talking about the Donovans. Richer than God, and they knew it. Their petty backstabbing and head games were never good for Mac. They were the main reason she had left. If she was talking about moving back, that was a bad sign.

  “Vic?” Rock said.

  “We’ll figure it all out. Some way, we’ll get it fixed.” Vic rolled his shoulders to work out some of the kinks that sleeping on the couch and then driving three hours had left. “Let me get some coffee and then we can sit down and talk about this Millie person.”

  He heard footsteps behind him, felt a presence at the doorway. He turned and found a blonde-haired woman staring at him.

  “I guess I would be that Millie person.”

  Chapter Three

  Always know who your enemies and your friends are, because in the spy business most of the people in your life fit in both categories.

  —Vic Walker

  Vic studied the woman who had disrupted their lives. She didn’t look like much at the moment. She was short, maybe just a hair over five three, with a fairylike innocence about her. The pixie cut should have been boyish, but somehow, it added to her girly look. She might have been a bit on the curvy side, but he wasn’t sure, thanks to the massive fugly sweater she wore. Jeans completed the outfit, and they looked as if they were too big for her also.

  The clothing told him several things about her. She wasn’t comfortable with herself as a woman. If it was about comfort, that would be one thing, but the way she moved told him she hadn’t come in to her own yet. Second, she was hiding. Hiding from what, he wasn’t sure. It could be just as simple as wanting to avoid the world.

  Even as he thought that, he realized he would have picked her out of any crowd. Not because he thought of her as a great, hidden beauty. She was cute enough, with the sprinkle of freckles over the bridge of her nose and her mesmerizing blue eyes. No, it was the fact that thanks to her stature, hair, and looks, there was something very otherworldly about her.

  She sat in the chair opposite him, her blue eyes studying him with apprehension. He could understand that. Even an experienced operator would be uneasy in a house full of strangers such as them. If she was as innocent as Mac thought her to be—and his ex-partner had very good instincts in that area—he could just imagine what was going on in Millie’s head. There was a good chance he looked like something akin to the Unabomber. Since leaving the business and taking a break, he hadn’t really been shaving.

  She studied him with clear, light-blue eyes, unswerving, unrelenting. It was so easy to read her. Fear, anxiety, dread. It was all there to see. He could see why Rock was worried about her safety. If anyone ever fit the term lamb to the slaughter, it was this woman. She would be ripe for the taking and definitely easy to use.

  “So, tell me everything that happened, from the start.”

  Rock opened his mouth, but Vic stopped him. He wanted it from Millie’s perspective. It was best when dealing with a client, especially if the client had already related the story to one of the other team members. It was easy to pick up on inconsistencies that could end up biting them in the ass.

  “I want to know how this diplomat’s son got a jump on Millie here. You’ll pick up when we get to your part.”

  Rock hesitated and then nodded. Vic turned to Millie. She swallowed hard.

  If she wasn’t guiltless in all of this, she was definitely a damned fine actress. He knew a lot of people were good at lying. In his business, he ran across them every day, and truth was, he was a bit of a liar himself. It was required to stay alive. In fact, he had always considered himself one of the best. It also made him good at picking out the liars.

  The truth was, most people could tell a good lie. Coming up with the words was easy. It was the facial expression and the body cues that always gave them away. Looking down and to the left usually meant a person wasn’t being honest. Millie did nothing. She stared right at him, ready to tell her story.

  Again, she might just be a world-c
lass deceiver, but he had his doubts. Mac was the best at that, and even she wasn’t that good.

  He settled back in his chair, and she flinched. Damn, she was jumpy. This is why they needed Jay most of the time. Vic and Mac liked to hammer the answers out of the client or suspect. Rock wasn’t much better. His military background always reared its ugly head when he interrogated someone. So, even though Vic sucked at soothing feathers, he decided he had no choice but to try in this situation.

  “Just relax. I want to know where you were, if there was anyone else around you. We might be able to gain a few details that you didn’t pick up.”

  She nodded. “I was at a bar over near Dupont Circle.”

  That was very vague. There were a lot of bars on Dupont Circle. It’s where the majority of millennials who worked in the D.C. offices gathered. Bars, clubs, and restaurants lined the roundabout, along with some very trendy new apartments.

  “What day was this?”

  Her brow furrowed. She looked at Rock. “Was it two days ago?”

  Vic looked at Rock, who glanced at the clock. “Three days ago, technically.”

  “Okay, so three days ago, you were at the bar?”

  “Yes.”

  “By yourself?”

  She nodded as her cheeks pinkened. More and more, Vic was beginning to believe that this woman was the real deal. “Yes. I haven’t lived here that long, and I work from home, so I don’t know a lot of people.”

  “Do you live alone?”

  She fidgeted on the chair, then picked at her sweater. It could be a sign she was being deceitful, but Vic was giving her the benefit of the doubt. She might just not like being questioned. Considering what had happened in the last forty-eight hours, he could understand that.

  “Millie.” She looked up at him. “I need to know everything.”

  She sighed and hesitated again before finally answering. “Yes, I live alone. I work odd hours, so I tend to have issues keeping roommates.”

  “What is it that you do?”

  “I handle computer security.”

  Not a definitive answer, but he would let it go for right now. It also explained why she might not be comfortable being interrogated. Computer folks were notoriously squirrelly.

  “Go on with your story.”

  “I hadn’t really been out of the house for a few days, so I figured I’d pop into this little Irish pub I like. That’s where I met Michael. He was sweet, and I was stupid and desperate.”

  He heard the embarrassment and guilt in her voice. Vic shook his head. “No. Men like Michael know how to work their job. He knew before he went in there he was after you.”

  “Do you mean you think he’s been following me? Stalking me?”

  Vic glanced at Rock, wondering just how much he should tell her. Rock gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Turning back to face her, Vic decided to tell her the truth.

  “It’s possible he’d had an order to abduct you for a while. So he probably watched your movements, determined you were living alone. The fact that you don’t go out much must have made his job very difficult.”

  If anything, her face turned paler.

  “That explains a lot. At first, I thought he just wanted to sit with someone in the bar. I had one of the booths and was by myself. He’s from another country, and he said he just got here. Good lord, how stupid. I should have never let him sit down.”

  Vic nodded and said nothing. There was no need for her to know that the bastard was a diplomat’s son who probably had more than a few friends in a town like D.C.

  “Who do you work for?” he asked.

  “I’m on retainer for the Liberty Foundation.”

  He frowned. “Is that the think tank with all the ex-military and FBI?”

  She nodded again. “CIA, NSA, lots of letter organizations.”

  “And what do you do for them?”

  She glanced at Rock.

  “You can tell Vic. If anyone knows how to keep secrets, it’s Vic.”

  She sighed and turned to face Vic. “I handle their security measures in the digital realm.”

  He frowned. “You mean you’re their computer security expert.”

  “No. I handle all kinds of things, not just the computers. I work on programs that jam other people from listening in to their phones…and some other things.”

  “Some other things? Would that be evading the feds’ surveillance, if they think they need to listen in?”

  Millie hesitated once more, then nodded. “I can’t tell you more than that. I’m bound by contract.”

  The scope of what had just been dropped into their laps was starting to hit Vic. She had been kidnapped for a specific reason. No wonder they called her “the package.” The woman was probably a virtual storehouse of information on how to get into the Liberty Foundation’s files and information. She would definitely sell for top dollar.

  “So, if anyone knew how to get into those files, it would be you?”

  “Yes. I mean, there are some other people in charge. I report to my supervisor, and I’m sure there are a few other VPs who know about me. But for the most part, I work in the shadows.”

  “No one else does what you do?”

  She shook her head. “There are techs, definitely. But when it comes to these kinds of things, I’m the best.”

  “I find it hard to believe the VPs knew nothing about your work or how you do it.”

  She offered him a small smile. “Truth is, most of them have issues saving things to the cloud. They used to have me come in and tell them all about it. About five minutes into my explanation, their eyes would glaze over, and I’d know I had lost them.”

  “We’ll need their names.”

  Her smile faded. “I can’t do that.”

  How the hell did she think they were going to be able to help her if she didn’t tell them everything? He glanced at Rock, who shrugged. He expected his friend had issues with her, too. He turned back to Millie and studied her. She wasn’t shying away from his attention. This was taking too long. Every second that ticked by, they lost some of the trail.

  “I want to make sure they’re okay. If the Russians are after you, there’s a good chance they might’ve attempted to abduct anyone who oversaw your work. We won’t engage. I just want to have them checked out, make sure they are where they should be.”

  “Oh, okay.” She gnawed on her bottom lip and finally relented. “I have one supervisor, Ken Blake.”

  “You mean General Ken Blake, Gulf War hero, former head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Ken Blake?”

  “Yes. And then he answers to the head of the company.”

  Vic nodded. “Walter George. Yeah, I know him. If something happened to him, we would have heard, but we’ll double check.”

  “Not many others know my name.”

  “You said you were at meetings and presentations.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Those people were security jocks. You know the types. They like to talk about security and get on news programs as experts, but most of them got their jobs by knowing people. They definitely didn’t understand what I was talking about, and they definitely didn’t know my name.”

  “You just stood up in front of them and talked about security? No introduction?”

  She shrugged. “Most of them barely know their secretary’s name.”

  He knew the type. After dealing with CIA and more than one political appointee, he had a good idea what it was like at Liberty. Most of the VPs had probably been appointed because they had money and power. They helped gain access to government contracts, and, in a lot of cases, contacts with other wealthy people in other countries.

  “Hey, Millie, why don’t you go lie down again? You don’t want to overdo it,” Rock said.

  Vic opened his mouth to tell Rock they needed more information about her boss and the company, but Rock shook his head. The need to take over, to explain he was the freaking boss, burned on the tip of his tongue. But he forced himself to stay quiet. He wasn�
��t the boss anymore and would have to get used to that. But, damn, he really didn’t like being told what to do.

  Millie nodded. “Okay. I can’t thank you enough for your help.”

  They both were quiet as they listened to her footsteps fade up the stairs.

  “What do you think?” Rock asked.

  “I think we need to check out her boss and her boss’s boss. They’re probably doing okay, but something is wrong. Very wrong.”

  Rock scrubbed a hand over his head. It was one way Vic knew his old friend tried to organize his thoughts. It was as if he thought rubbing his head would bring about a solution to this mess. Maybe it did work, because Rock was good at planning.

  “Yeah, there is definitely something fishy going on there.”

  “Gee, you don’t say.”

  “Okay, I deserve that, but when the NSA comes calling, you know it’s usually just a babysitting kind of job.”

  That much was true. The NSA didn’t always want to have private contractors, and most of their work was off the books. But the jobs they threw at the contractors were usually little and not that complicated. Things they needed done fast, but they didn’t want to give the manpower hours to it. Either the NSA set up WD & Associates, or their information was fucked up.

  “Have you heard from your contact at the NSA?”

  Rock shook his head. “No. The phone has been disconnected.”

  “Damn.” Then he thought about it even more. “Shit. More than likely they weren’t NSA.”

  “Oh, they were, or they were at one time. Sheila Gallagher.”

  “Oh, yeah. She’s annoying.”

  “Another thing,” Rock said, “the fact they were letting Millie work from home is an issue for me, too. I mean, who has someone working on their security from outside of the office? That should send up alarm bells all over the place.”

  “Unless they were doing something they didn’t want the office to know about.”

  “How so?”

  “Think about it. If you wanted to hide things from corporate, or your stockholders, you do the job off the books and away from the office. Depending on what she was working on, it might even be against regulations. Worse, she could have been breaking the law. Scrambling their phones isn’t really against the law, so why would they need someone off-site to handle it? They have many government contracts, so that’s another red flag for me.”