by Janie Crouch
It had never even crossed Sawyer’s mind that she would be the head computer scientist of a multimillion-dollar company. But the woman sitting across from him so coldly, lab coat around her like a suit of armor? He had no problem picturing her as Dr. Fuller, brilliant scientist.
“Yes, Dr. Fuller. I’m sorry for the confusion before.” Reflexively Sawyer tried to smile at her, but he was met only with cold professionalism. “I’ve been sent here from the Bureau to discuss Ghost Shell.”
Sawyer knew Megan would associate the word bureau with the FBI, but now wasn’t the time to explain about Omega Sector. Omega was a task force made up of representatives from all different sorts of government agencies—FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, hell, even Interpol—who answered to bosses inside Omega. The task force was generally kept on a need-to-know basis. All Megan needed to know right now was that Sawyer was from federal law enforcement.
Megan nodded curtly. “I gave Ghost Shell to the FBI three months ago. Then I receive a follow-up call a few days ago with all sorts of questions you guys should already know the answer to.”
Sawyer didn’t respond to that directly. “I understand you’ve been working on a countermeasure to Ghost Shell.”
That obviously wasn’t the statement she was expecting. “Well, we were. But once I turned Ghost Shell over to the FBI, we put that on the back burner. Didn’t seem important to work on the antidote for a poison we’d already gotten rid of.”
“Unfortunately, it looks like the poison is back.”
“What?” Her big brown eyes blinked at him again, but this time with confusion rather than shyness.
“Ghost Shell fell into the wrong hands not long ago.”
“What?” Megan parroted herself. “I gave Ghost Shell to the FBI to keep that exact thing from happening.”
Sawyer grimaced. “I understand your frustration.”
Sawyer watched Megan’s small fists ball on the table. He slid back a little in his chair, since it looked as if she might start swinging any moment. Not that he could blame her.
“My research team here at Cyberdyne put in hundreds of man-hours on Ghost Shell! The work we did was brilliant and could’ve potentially made Cyberdyne millions of dollars. But I chose—my team chose—to stop our progress when we realized how easily Ghost Shell could become a weapon.” One of her small fists came down forcefully on the table. “And now you’re telling me some terrorist group has it anyway?”
“Well, yes and no.”
One eyebrow rose. “I think perhaps you should just cut to the chase, Agent Branson.”
Totally gone was the shy, stammering woman he had seen at the front desk. This woman in front of him—he definitely could not think of her as mousy in any way—was a force to be reckoned with.
“The agent in charge of the technology you gave the FBI—”
“Fred McNeil.”
Sawyer shouldn’t be surprised that Megan remembered the name of an agent she’d spoken to months before, given her reputation. “Yes, Fred McNeil. Ends up he was also working for a crime-syndicate group known as DS-13.”
Megan closed her eyes and shook her head, her breath coming out in a hiss. “And is this DS-13 group terrorists?”
“No. But they would not hesitate to sell Ghost Shell to whatever terrorist faction was willing to pay the highest price.”
“And now DS-13 has Ghost Shell.”
“Again, yes and no.” Sawyer held his hand out to stop the sound of exasperation he knew was coming. “In a mission two weeks ago, one version—the working version—of Ghost Shell was recovered. But until we contacted you just a couple of days ago, we had no idea a second version of Ghost Shell even existed.”
“But you don’t have the other version?”
“No, Fred McNeil is still at large with it.”
Megan got up and began pacing around her office. “The other version, although not as dangerous as the first, is still definitely not benign. It’s just as potentially dangerous.”
“But it would take someone with a special set of skills to complete it, right?”
Megan shrugged a delicate shoulder. “My ego would like to think so. But really, anybody skilled in reverse engineering—taking something apart and figuring out what makes it work—and software development could probably do it. There’s a dozen people at Cyberdyne alone.”
“So the FBI should be acting on the assumption that Fred McNeil and DS-13 could have a working prototype at any time.”
Megan took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, leaning back against her desk. “Absolutely. With the right help, it won’t take long.”
“We’re going to do everything we can to stop that from happening.”
“No offense, Agent Branson, but my trusting the FBI is how this whole problem happened in the first place.”
Sawyer grimaced. There really wasn’t much argument around that one. “On behalf of the entire Bureau, I want to apologize for what happened. Nobody had any idea that Fred McNeil had flipped.”
“Well, thanks for the apology, but that doesn’t necessarily make me feel much better.” The ice doctor was back in full force. “Did you work with Agent McNeil?”
“No. I’m in an entirely different...section of the Bureau. Never met the man.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“Well, for one thing, I’m bringing Ghost Shell back to you, not the other way around. But also, there’s a whole department involved this time. Not just one person. A lot more accountability that way.”
Megan stared at him for a long moment. “I guess so. Fred McNeil always seemed to want to keep things so quiet and just between us. Now I know why.” Megan shuddered. “He was so smarmy. I should’ve known better.”
“We’re working around-the-clock to find McNeil and Ghost Shell before it can be developed more fully.”
“What exactly do you want from us here at Cyberdyne?”
“We need you to finish the countermeasure decryption system you were working on before.”
Megan shook her head and sat back down at the table. “I explained to whoever I talked to a couple of days ago that I can’t do it without Ghost Shell. That’s why I stopped working on it months ago.”
“I have the first version of Ghost Shell with me. I know you will need this version to create the countermeasure so we can stop McNeil once he gets his version of Ghost Shell up and running.”
“You have Ghost Shell here, unguarded?” Megan stood back up. “Then we need to get that drive into the vault right away. It’s too valuable, too dangerous for you to just be casually carrying it around.”
Sawyer tried not to be offended. “I think I’m capable of guarding a software system for a few hours, Dr. Fuller.”
It looked as if Megan would argue the point further, but then decided to let it go. “Fine. But you’ll have to excuse me for not having too much faith in FBI agents at the current moment. And, honestly, why shouldn’t I just wash my hands of this entire thing? My team and I did our job right. It’s you guys who messed things up.”
Sawyer took a breath. He needed to convince Megan to help them. Because if she decided she’d already done her part, and that law enforcement were on their own, Omega’s job was about to become a lot harder.
Sawyer looked at Megan, who was standing beside her desk, lips pressed into a white slash, posture rigid. He couldn’t blame her for how she was feeling.
But they needed her help, and right now it didn’t look as though she was very interested in giving it.
Sawyer knew his colleagues considered him to be the charming Branson brother; they teased him about it all the time back at Omega. People—and okay, he could admit it, women especially—responded to him. It was a gift, and Sawyer had used it to his advantage multiple times in different operations. It made undercover work a natural fit—who didn’t want to like the guy with the easy smile and quick joke? But his easy smile didn’t seem to be getting him anywhere in this conversation, not since the ice doctor had ap
peared.
It was amazing how different this controlled woman was from the pretty librarian-type he’d talked to at the desk. The woman at the desk Sawyer would’ve known how to reach, even with her shyness. Yet this woman didn’t seem to see him as a man—hell, even as a person—at all. But he had to try to get her cooperation.
“You’re right, the FBI has messed things up.” Sawyer smiled and held a hand out to her in a gesture for her to sit back down. Standing up and towering over her wasn’t the way to make her feel more comfortable. “And Fred McNeil fooled a lot of people, not just you.”
Sawyer noticed Megan’s posture slump slightly. Evidently McNeil’s ability to fool her weighed more heavily on Megan than she wanted to admit.
Sawyer continued, “I don’t have to tell you how important it is that Ghost Shell not fall into the hands of terrorists. You’re the one who came to us with the problem because you could see the catastrophic damage Ghost Shell was capable of. Without you, law enforcement would have no idea of the potential threat they were up against.”
He reached out and touched her hand that rested on the table. “Thank you for coming forward. I’m pretty sure nobody has said that to you, but somebody should have.”
For a moment, looking into her big brown eyes, Sawyer saw Megan, not the cold Dr. Fuller. Sawyer realized maybe it had been him not seeing her as a person, not vice versa. Dr. Fuller and Megan were one and the same; he needed to remember that. Sawyer squeezed her hand in a friendly manner, then let her go.
“You’re good at what you do,” Megan said after a moment.
“And what’s that?”
“Manipulating people.”
Sawyer shook his head. “I know it seems that way, but I’m not trying to manipulate you, I promise. Everything I’ve said so far has been the absolute truth.”
She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, but seemed to have lost a little of her coldness, so Sawyer continued, “But don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely asking you for something. We need your help. We’ve got to have a way to stop Ghost Shell when DS-13 goes to sell their version on the black market. You are our best hope for that.”
Megan sighed, resignation clear in her eyes. “All right, Agent Branson. Whether you’re trying to deliberately manipulate me or not, I guess you’re going to get what you want. I’ll get the Ghost Shell countermeasure finished as soon as possible.” Megan stood up again and wiped an imaginary piece of lint off her lab coat. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. I just hope you guys don’t screw it up again.”
* * *
“I’LL MAKE YOU a deal. You get the Ghost Shell countermeasure completed and I will personally make sure nobody on my end of things screws it up.” Agent Branson had such utter confidence in his voice that Megan couldn’t help but believe him.
Megan couldn’t sit there and say she wasn’t affected by Agent Branson. But it wasn’t as if he was trying to talk her into going out with him; he was trying to get Megan to do something she was already willing to do.
Not that she wasn’t willing to go out with him.
But not that he was asking.
Megan had to get herself under control. Him asking or not asking her out was not the issue here. Ghost Shell and saving the world was. Focus. Be professional.
“So should I announce the change in projects to everyone?”
Agent Branson shook his head. “No, we want to keep this to as few people as possible.”
Megan nodded. That was probably best. Although she trusted everyone who worked in the R & D department, the fewer people who knew about all this, the better. “Okay, just my inner team then. That’s seven people including me and Jonathan Bushman, my assistant, whom you met.”
“That sounds good.”
“Great. So I guess I’ll call you in a couple of weeks when we have the countermeasure completed.” Megan stuck out her hand to shake his. The sooner she got him out of her office, the sooner she could focus on other things. Any other thing besides his presence here.
“Actually, I’ll be staying here for a while if that’s okay.”
“For the meeting with the team? That’s probably a good idea.” Her inner team rarely needed to be more focused than they already were, but Agent Branson could provide added motivation to get the Ghost Shell countermeasure completed faster.
“No. I’ll be staying until you’re finished.”
“The whole time? You know, this isn’t going to be done in a day. It’s going to take a while. Plus, we are a secure facility, especially within the R & D vault. You can leave Ghost Shell here and come back in a couple of weeks. I promise it will be safe.”
“Even so, I’ll be staying.”
This was not good. Having him here was going to wreak havoc on her concentration. “It’ll be pretty boring. You understand that, right?”
Megan watched Sawyer’s brows furrow as he nodded curtly, with no enthusiasm whatsoever. Evidently, he didn’t really want to be here. Megan wasn’t surprised; watching a group of scientists do conceptual engineering for days or weeks did not strike Megan as something a man like Sawyer would want to do on his own accord.
“Drew the short straw, huh?” she asked him.
Megan could tell she had surprised him. He laughed, then looked down at her with his megawatt smile. “Something like that,” he finally said. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime while I’m here. You’ll like that story.”
Megan seemed to have forgotten how to breathe at his smile. She finally forced herself to look away and grabbed all the folders on her desk—most of them ones she didn’t even need—and called her inner team to the conference room for a meeting.
This group of people had developed Ghost Shell at one stage or another and was well aware of its potentials and dangers. Without going into the details about what had happened with Fred McNeil and DS-13, Megan explained that developing the countermeasure to Ghost Shell had become a priority for them at Cyberdyne.
Sawyer’s presence in the room couldn’t be ignored, so Megan introduced him.
“This is Agent Sawyer Branson. He’ll be here for the duration of the project. The fact that law enforcement feels his presence here is necessary should be a reminder of how crucial this project is.”
Two of the women on the team—both in their midforties and both married with children—were all but ogling Sawyer. Megan resisted the urge to rap something against the conference table to get their attention.
Branson seemed to be taking it all in stride, smiling easily at the women. Of course, he smiled easily at the men, too. He just seemed to have a way that put everyone at ease.
Everyone except Megan.
Megan dismissed the meeting a little more curtly than she had planned, after they all agreed work would begin first thing in the morning. She left the conference room without waiting to see if Agent Branson was coming with her or not. If he wanted to flirt with everyone in the department, that was his business. As long as it didn’t interfere with their work, Megan had absolutely no problem with it.
Good to see that the FBI had once again sent their very best.
Megan knew she was being unreasonable. What the heck was wrong with her? She sat down and rested for a minute. It had been a long day, made more stressful by the bad news Sawyer had delivered. She had been such an idiot to trust Fred McNeil. Even though Sawyer told her McNeil had fooled everyone, Megan knew she should’ve trusted her instincts with McNeil.
But Megan had never been good at trusting her instincts unless it came to science. Trusting her instincts with men had always brought her a heartache or headache.
Megan rubbed at a knot that was beginning to form in her neck. She took a deep breath and began reorganizing all the mostly unneeded files she had taken to the meeting back into their rightful places on her desk. Then she cleared off and straightened any other items that cluttered it or were out of place. She knew that a clean desk always made her feel better and would help her
when she got to work tomorrow with a new, stressful agent on her hands.
Project. New, stressful project on her hands, damn it.
And speak of the devil... Agent Branson was making his way over to her office. He rapped on the outside of her office door, but entered without waiting for an invite.
“Get to meet everyone on the team?” It was the most neutral question Megan could think of.
“Yep. Seems like a pretty solid crew you have there.” He looked around her office. “And looks like you’ve got that desk of yours about as pristine as they come.”
Megan shrugged and smiled ruefully. “Having everything neat and organized helps me work. It’ll help me focus when I get back to work in the morning. But right now I’m going to head home and have a nice glass of wine. How about you?”
Megan watched as Sawyer’s head tilted to the side and he raised one eyebrow. “Sure. I mean, I don’t know you very well, but I’d like to have a glass of wine at your house.”
Megan could’ve bitten off her own tongue. He thought she was asking him out? No. He absolutely could not come over to her house for a glass of wine. She could barely form coherent sentences around him here. She definitely didn’t want him in her home.
“No. I mean—I wasn’t asking you over. I don’t want you to come over to my house. I just meant—” Megan stopped herself—she was just making it worse.
“Oh, well, then, we could go out to a bar or restaurant or something.” Sawyer’s eyes were lit with amusement as he said it. “Just let me grab my stuff.”
“No! I don’t want to go out with you. I just want to go home by myself.” It sounded rude even to her own ears.
Sawyer chuckled. “I know what you meant, Megan. I was just giving you a hard time.”
Megan didn’t know what to say. She just grabbed her purse from the back of the office door and left without another word. She was probably coming across as childish, but didn’t care. His charming laughter followed her down the hall.