by Zoe Forward
He fingered his cell phone, tempted to text her. Her words echoed in his mind. No weird goodbye at the airport.
Damn it, he wanted more time with her. A definite first for him, but he wanted more of her and more of what they’d shared. As he drifted off to sleep, he’d considered the previously unthinkable…the girlfriend thing. Even though probabilities weighed heavily in favor of him fucking it up, the high points might make however long they had together worthwhile.
To have her all to himself whenever he wanted her. To know she was thinking about him when he wasn’t around and whenever she wanted someone. This kind of mushy shit terrified him.
So why was it making him want to hunt her down and drag her back here? To make plans for next weekend, and maybe several weekends after that? He was fucking twisted over Becca.
Wait a minute. These uncharacteristic notions had to be post-wedding foolishness. You will get over this and realize tomorrow this is the way it should be.
In a daze, he stumbled to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. His reflection looked like over-baked shit from two sleepless nights. Usually, if he had a two-nighter, he slept for at least eight hours on the second day to make up. But he didn’t care about the puffy half-moon under each eye or the stubble and red eyes.
He’d been on board with last night being their final night. He shouldn’t be surprised she’d left. She had given him what he usually wanted, an uncomplicated out. The only person he could be pissed at was himself for agreeing to her rules.
His phone buzzed across the counter. Noah’s picture lit up.
“Yeah?” Jake answered, his voice rough.
“Okay, there’s a whole hell of a lot of woman troubles in that one word, but right now I’m so happy that you’re going to ride my wave and get over yourself. You still taking us to the airport in an hour?”
Shit. He’d forgotten his promise to Noah last week. “Yes. Your ride is on the way.”
A shower and forty minutes later, he pulled up to Becca’s hotel, the one in which Noah and Tori spent last night in one of the wedding suites. He rubbed his forehead again, hoping by some miracle it’d halt his head pounding. Then he texted Noah: Out front.
Minutes later out came Noah and Tori followed by a bellboy with about ten suitcases on a trolley. And Becca.
His heart pounded. Her tight graphic T-shirt veed low and pulled tight to her curves. The boots and skintight jeans accentuated her sleek legs.
Maybe this was fate in a good way. Or, this could be fate in a let’s fuck with his head way. The foreign feeling of necessity to make things right with Becca shot his headache into a stomach rolling cold sweat head pain.
Noah waved. The shit-eating grin on his face broadcast his night went well. “I volunteered you to give Becca a ride to the airport too. Hope that’s okay?”
“Sure. Makes sense.” He met her gaze for an instant. Her eyes darted away.
This hadn’t been a part of her plan. She must’ve been caught by the newlyweds in the lobby or something.
When he hopped into the driver’s side, she was typing on her cell phone in the passenger seat.
As they pulled away, Noah kissed Tori loudly in the back seat, and then asked Jake, “So, what happened to you last night?”
“What do you mean?” He shifted on his seat as he turned on the car.
“The last time I saw you, you were taking leftovers to Becca.”
As if he wanted to hash this out right now. His gaze met Becca’s for a brief instant. Her raised eyebrows asked the silent question. The full-disclosure decision was his.
When he didn’t jump in to say anything, her eyebrows drooped low and eyes narrowed. She said, “Thanks for dropping the cake by. Did you have a long night or something? You do look tired.”
“Yeah, long night.” Maybe that’d be noncommittal enough to convey to Noah to drop it. He concentrated on the few drops of rain spitting on the windshield, playing the game of how long he could wait before he must click on the wipers.
“What? You’re not going to jump down his throat today, Becca, about whatever happened during his long night?” Noah asked.
She shook her head and gazed out the side window, her frame stiff. “We made a wedding truce.”
He wanted to be truthful. To tell Noah about them and get it out there. He wanted to hear her laugh again and see her smile at him as if he rocked her world and then some.
His jaw clenched once. Twice. He glanced at the newlyweds in the rearview mirror. They were so disgustingly happy making out in the back seat. No way in hell would he burst their bubble with an oh, by the way.
Besides, if he gambled on him and Becca by telling Noah about last night, and whatever he had with her crashed and burned—as it would—then not only would he have lost her, but also his best friend and family.
This pressure inside his chest worsened. He’d messed it all up, as was his specialty.
Tears prickled Becca’s eyes, but she squared her shoulders and gazed out the window. She excavated her best everything’s great when it’s really crap smile, which she’d perfected during this past year’s internship. She carried on chitchat with Tori and Noah on the drive. The fake smile remained pinned on her face as they started airport goodbyes.
Her stomach turned queasy at the thought of what would happen next. But she made the same vow she’d made to herself for the past few weeks. She wouldn’t fail her family, and she would survive. However, she needed to be gone when Noah and Jake found out about the breach into their system and stolen data.
Jake’s expression stayed cool as he gave her the requisite impersonal hug after unloading her rollaboard. She willed herself not to grab onto him and hold tight. She wanted to wrap herself around his body until the embrace thawed the stiff, frozen guy in front of her. She dreamed of pressing her lips to his just once more or running her hand far lower on his back than “friends” would dare. Instead, she let go at the same time he did. This was over. She didn’t want to accept it, but like everything here in New York, it was over. An alternative outcome was nothing but a fantasy.
Noah’s phone dinged. His expression clouded as he scanned an incoming message. “What the hell? Jake…did you—”
Jake scrolled on his phone, obviously reading a message. “This is bad.”
Noah continued scrolling, cursing.
Air wouldn’t pass through her lungs. She panted. A side glance to the sliding door entryway to the airport helped her calculate how fast she could make it there. No need to check-in before security with an electronic ticket. She’d gone through the rigmarole to ensure she had TSA Precheck two months ago.
Noah shoved his phone back into his jacket. “We’re going in to figure this out at the office before I go. Sorry, sweetheart.”
“What about your honeymoon?” Jake asked.
Acid burned a hole in her stomach. Terrified, she met Jake’s gaze. He was distracted, but soon he’d put two and two together.
Tori’s gaze was filled with suspicion.
Becca leaned in and hugged Tori, whispering before she pulled away, “He forced me to do it, but I changed everything…gave Symphis bogus information. Won’t be long before he figures that out.” Aka, my life is forfeit. “I would do anything to protect all of you guys.”
She pulled away from Tori and announced, “My flight got bumped to earlier. I’ve got to run.”
“Becca, wait,” Tori said.
Without a second glance or pause, she scurried through the sliding glass doors. She ignored Jake and Becca yelling her name. The moment she got inside, she jogged to security.
Time to execute phase one of her escape from California.
20
Jake sipped his fourth Red Bull, the chemical drink jolting his already over-caffeinated system into a jerky hyper-alertness. “What happened, Sam?”
The chief of security at NJ Legacy, an ex-NSA hacking expert, glanced up. “The interesting part about this was the technology used to get into the system. T
his is next level spy tech able to worm in remotely. That is, I’m assuming it was remote since I received no warning about an unanticipated breach. I’ve got the whole system triggered to alert me. Looks like she copied financial files from the past two months, mostly payroll and the billing accounts.”
Noah covered his face and sifted a hand through his hair. “Tori said Becca told her she changed the information before she sent it to Symphis. That means when he finds out he’s going to be pissed. Her life’s in danger. Jesus, they already took Kaleb. Now Becca. How the hell could this even happen?”
Jake slammed his fist on the table. “How did he get his hooks into her?” He waved a hand. “Forget how he did it. What do we do? We have to get her back.”
“Was she ever alone with the system?” Sam’s tone was calm as he remained glued to his laptop.
“Not that I’m aware of.” Jake wondered if they asked her to sleep with him to facilitate stealing the information. The notion left him disgusted. He couldn’t believe she’d go to that extreme, even under pressure. What’d been between them had always been there. Whatever pushed her to do this must’ve pushed her toward him. She’d been terrified the whole weekend.
He should’ve pushed her harder to tell him why. “We were in my office for lunch but never got close to my computer. She was near my laptop, but I never left her alone with it while logged on. She ran up to Noah’s office to grab drinks. We could review security footage to see if she got near any computers.”
“I already did that. She didn’t get near Noah’s computer. Must’ve done it when you had your laptop open or near your office computer. That’s a super cool bit of programming,” Sam said in a goofy awed tone. “It’s the kind of stuff GenShare works on to sell to government intelligence agencies. Wonder if Becca programmed it.”
“Who cares if she did?” Jake scrolled his phone, desperate for any sort of message from her. She was God knows where in a plane, exposed and in danger. He had no ability to help her. “I told you Becca was off the range terrified about something, Noah.”
“You didn’t say she was terrified. You said something wasn’t right about her taking a job while in grad school. I figured she overextended herself or something. She’s an overachiever.” Noah covered his face again. “Mom won’t survive if she… They can’t have her too. They just can’t. Damn it, Jake, why didn’t you keep her here?”
Jake’s chest ached as images of Kaleb’s funeral filtered through his mind. He’d gone with Noah to identify the water-bloated body that barely resembled the brother they both remembered. A lump settled in his stomach like lead. The gears in his brain churned, looking for any solution to keep Becca safe. “I was with her most of the weekend as much as I could be. You were there at the airport too. She practically ran away.”
Sam said softly while typing on his laptop, “She hasn’t been at Berkley this semester.”
“What?” Jake tried to make sense of all the bits of conversation he’d had with her. “She had a slip up about being in San Diego that she tried to cover up.”
“Her flight took her to San Diego with a layover in Phoenix,” Sam said, clicking fast on the keyboard. “Her name’s on an apartment lease near downtown San Diego. Lots of digital hits on her the past few months in San Diego. All her social media went dark seven months ago.”
“Symphis must’ve recruited her around the same time as Kaleb, then.” Jake was glad it came out level-headed despite his inner need to yell and fight. There wasn’t a line he wouldn’t cross to get her back here alive. Bad moment to realize he might be in love with her.
“Kaleb and Becca. Sounds like it was premeditated to try to hit NJ Legacy any way he could. Wonder what he’s got against you guys.” Sam glanced up. “There’s no digital fingerprint to point to Symphis in this, not that we have one of him to begin with. But this is consistent with how his network operates. Psychological torture and then control his players with fear to make them not only play videogames but also do things like this.”
“Call the FBI and NSA. I want her back here,” Noah said. “We’re not losing her.”
“I know a security firm in California. I can ask them to grab her at the airport,” Jake proposed.
Sam stopped typing. “She just sent me a message. It says: Stay clear of me. The ricochet will hurt.” He typed madly. “She won’t reply. And now she’s out of the chat room.”
“Why’d she send you a message?” Noah scrolled his phone for messages, realizing the fury pushing him to pulverize Sam had everything to do with jealousy. No message from her. He glanced up to see Noah checking his phone too and shaking his head.
“I’m on this chat room where we speak Klingon. Total nerd, I know. But it’s a back channel for emergency things, like this. Guess she figured I’d be involved in things.”
“She can’t go up against this guy alone.” Noah jumped up and paced. He muttered, “Kaleb tried to do it on his own, to get out. He wouldn’t listen to me and ended up murdered. Once they figure out she altered the information she obtained, they’ll kill her.” He slammed his hands on the table. “How did this happen?”
Jake texted on his phone. “I’m sending the security company to get her. I’ll be on my way out there for the Comic-Con tomorrow. I can pick her up and bring her back here. We’ll fly private.”
“What would he want with this financial information?” Sam tapped his lower lip with his index finger.
“Maybe he already figured out we’re leveraged out the wazoo to bring the VR goggles to market. Maybe he’s the one screwing with production.” Jake’s gut cinched tight. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid to not recognize the signs of someone in trouble and to let her walk out of his life without a fight to keep her here.
Sam shook his head. “He’s not a god who knows everything. But financials would be the best way to figure out how to tank us. If she truly altered the information, then she probably saved the company.”
“At the cost of her life,” Jake said.
Becca’s heart pounded as she keyed in the code to the airport locker in Phoenix. It didn’t work. If she didn’t get the backpack, there was no plan.
Her chest seized tight as she punched in the code again. It clicked open. Thank God.
Backpack still where she’d left it on her last pass through the airport.
She’d planned to disappear with Stuart, both of them making their way back to California by car. Then to Comic-Con where the contact would be in two days. She hadn’t planned on taking the journey alone. Made it scarier.
They’d done a lot of research on how to ghost out of existence, covering their online searches by using public computers at libraries and coffee houses. The last piece to truly disappear was what the contact could provide—erasure from Symphis’s system. Then she could truly disappear and hope time would provide a way to bring down his operation.
She pulled out Quan’s card, wondering. Maybe she could get some discreet assistance.
She cradled her phone, pulling up her pictures one last time. A smile tugged at her lips when she ran her thumb over a picture of Jake taken last Christmas. Love pulsed so powerfully in her veins that her heart actually ached. She clicked off the phone, removed sim card, dropped it, slammed her heel down on the card, and flushed both the card and phone in the toilet.
“Good-bye, Jake.”
Good-bye, old life.
21
“Twenty-five minutes and you’re on in Ballroom Four,” Emma announced as she swiped through screens on her iPad. “We need you there early to do a sound check. Your talk has been uploaded.”
“The system is going to work this time?” Jake asked. Three weeks ago in Chicago, he had to wing a huge talk without graphics. Nightmare.
“The team double-checked. Use the clicker.” She pressed the device into his hand. “The promo video will play on your cue.”
“You made it clear our tech team will be running the video?” He shoved the familiar thin clicker into his jeans pocke
t.
“Yes. The Comic-Con people didn’t like it, but they’ll tolerate it. The team is already in there. They’ve opened the room to include Ballroom Three and added an extra jumbo screen due to anticipated attendance.”
“We expected this to be big.” He lowered his voice, “Anything new yet?”
Emma shook her head. “You’ve got the meeting after the talk at eleven and then lunch with the studio execs.”
Nothing? Becca had disappeared before her connecting flight three days ago. Three fucking days of hell. The FBI couldn’t find a single breadcrumb of a clue as to her whereabouts. Noah was going insane. They’d interviewed her employer out here in San Diego who, after coercion, admitted he’d been forced to use his interns to play in the Stadium. He also admitted to texting her multiple times through the weekend to order she do Symphis’s bidding. That left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. What they’d had, what she’d done, might only have been because she’d been forced into it.
During slow moments, he obsessed about possibilities like where she’d gone and her plans, if still alive. She could’ve been captured, killed, or tortured. If alive and still free, did she intend to take down Symphis alone? Or maybe she’d done a Jason Bourne and disappeared.
He didn’t want to find her out of concern for her welfare. He wanted a fight. A big fight. About what’d been real and what’d been done out of coercion. And about her not trusting him.
“Jake, focus. This is the biggest Comic-Con of the year.” Emma snapped her fingers in front of his face.
“I’ll meet you in there,” Jake said. “I’m running to the restroom.”
Emma gave him a pained look. She wanted to say more. “I can only delay the start for so long.”
“I’ll be there in a sec.” Jake’s eye caught on a woman in a classic Princess Leia outfit. The hair buns dwarfed her head. The gown wasn’t tailored and not top of the line. In fact, the skirt almost dragged on the floor. She wore a Carrie Fisher mask to hide her face. Something about her seemed familiar. Her height, the way she carried herself… No, she was another cosplay crazy. They were everywhere. She wasn’t even the first Leia he’d seen today. More like the tenth. Only this Leia had a backpack.