by Lea Hart
“And where did the term Trojan horse come from?”
“It was derived from the Ancient Greek story of the deceptive wooden horse that led to the fall of the city of Troy. What I’m sending through the system will not be perceived as a threat, so no matter what kind of security they have installed, it won’t be detected.”
“Is that true of all Trojan code?”
“Not sure, but if Grif or I are writing the code, then it’s not.”
“I’m assuming that once you’ve deployed your horse, you can be anywhere in the world and access what you need.”
“Yes. The reason I came to Brussels is that Grif had already begun installing the security measures that we’re known for. For him to uninstall them and leave the network open would pose too great a risk for the bank. But sitting next to him and working on updates allows me to circumvent the measures put in place without disturbing anything.”
“You’re basically hacking yourself and then covering your tracks.”
Giving him a big smile, she nodded. “Exactly.”
Sam sat back and smoothed out his pants and then hooked his hands behind his head. “If this works, it will be fucking amazing.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Lucky. But I don’t want you to do anything once you send the Trojan horse. Let me get together with my counterparts at the legat and see what the best way is to approach this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you to get yourself embroiled in an international scandal that will take forever to unravel.”
“Explain how this thing works because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He unhooked his hands and gave her a shrug. “Honey, half the time I don’t either. As the Director of Organized Crime in the Chicago FBI office, I’m responsible for what happens within the state of Illinois as it pertains to those groups. Well, we don’t live in a world where crime syndicates stay within the state lines, so we often work with other offices to produce a case that we can take to the Attorney General that will result in an indictment and then a trial. Take that concept and add the piece that says there’s no domestic group that isn’t connected to an international one. In virtually all major FBI investigations, a significant international nexus develops, and then we have to balance the FBI’s interest in addressing the international aspects of its investigation with the requirements that respect the host country's national sovereignty. Suddenly, it’s a hell of a party, and we’ve got a host country’s law enforcement working on the case, people from our legal attaché, and Interpol all wanting a chance to take the bad guy down.”
“How in the world does anything get accomplished with all those people working together?”
“It happens because believe it or not, our FBI people in-country work their asses off to make sure their liaisons are strong and international law is ruling every move. Don’t get me wrong, interagency cooperation doesn’t always work; sometimes it’s a goat fuck with everyone chasing their tails, but when it does work—it’s damn beautiful.”
“I will do my best to install the Trojans and if I’m successful, I’ll be happy to hand over the information to whoever can best use it to take him down. I don’t care how it happens, I just want to go to sleep at night knowing I did everything I could to stop the human trafficking.”
“I know, Lucky, and my team doesn’t need credit either. I want to see his downfall because I’m hoping it will topple Yolkin.”
Hearing her phone buzz, she checked it and saw that Grif was waiting for her in the lobby. “Time to go to work.”
“Me too.” He gave her a kiss and then led her out of the drawing room. “Think of someplace you want to go to dinner tonight.”
“Are we going to have a sexy date in Brussels?’
“Damn right, we are.”
She followed him out of the room and decided having her boyfriend in Brussels was more of a blessing than she could’ve imagined.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Saturday Evening
Sam guided Lucky off the elevator and let out a breath of relief because the place was as mind-blowing as Theo had suggested. The IT Tower didn’t appear much more than a cold office building from the outside, but the roof where a glass box had been constructed offered a breathtaking view of the city. “What do you think, honey?”
“I’m speechless; we can see all of Brussels from up here.”
“Nothing better than a birds-eye view,” he remarked as they followed the hostess who had greeted them in the lobby and escorted them to a table that occupied a corner of the glass box. “I’ll have to thank Theo for the recommendation,” Sam said as he took his seat.
“Absolutely,” Lucky replied as she spread a napkin across her lap. “Where did they get the idea for something like this?”
“I read there was a pop-up floating restaurant done a couple of years ago that was a huge success and, apparently, this is the permanent version of it.”
The waitress came by and they were offered drinks as well as a menu that listed the tasting menu they were being served. Once she left, Sam raised an eyebrow. “We may have to order room service when we get back to the hotel because I’m not sure what the hell we’re in for.”
“I’m sure it will be perfect.”
“You’re perfect, Lucky.” He took her hand and leaned forward. “I think you’re always beautiful, but the dress you’ve got on is making it difficult for me to remember why behaving is a good idea.”
Looking down, she smiled and then crossed her legs demurely. “This old thing?”
“I see you enjoy torturing me, so I’ll have to return the favor when we get back to our room.” Letting his eyes fall to the open slit of the black jersey dress that hugged her mouth-watering curves made him wonder what he’d done to deserve her company. “Tell me how it went at the bank today, so I can get my mind off the list of dirty things I’m going to do to you later.”
“You need a little of my geek-speak to get your mind right, Sammy?”
“Yes, please.” The waitress delivered two glasses of champagne and Sam picked his glass up and said, “Here’s to the woman of my dreams.” A pretty blush crossed her cheeks as she tipped her glass and then took a sip. “It’s true, Lucky.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, that’s the last sappy thing I’ll say for the rest of the evening.”
“I like sappy, it’s just not something I’ve ever had much of in my relationships.”
“Well, get ready because I’ve got a lot to share with you.”
“You are a surprise.”
Clearing his throat, he looked across the restaurant. “I wish I hadn’t been a jerk when we met.”
“Me too, but I like where we are now, so let’s just leave that all in the past where it belongs.”
Feeling a weight slide off his shoulders, he nodded. “I’d like that.” Her hand tightened on his and he knew she meant it.
“Okay, are you ready to hear about the courageous and daring feat I managed to pull off today?”
“Absolutely.”
“All right, just don’t fall asleep while I tell you about it.”
“Heroes don’t always drop out of the sky with guns blazing to take out the bad guy. I think what you’ve done makes you the hero of this Vazov thing and, when all is said and done, it’s you we’re going to thank for making it possible.”
“That’s very sweet, but I’m just a small cog in what seems to be a massive wheel. All I did today was write code for a customized call-back dropper that I inserted into Trojan malware. Once I accessed the administrator account of the bank, I moved laterally through a backdoor and sent my gift into Vazov’s network. The information I passed on to you earlier should allow the Federal Police and the FBI to move with ease through Vazov’s network and gain access to anything that’s linked to it.”
“Lucky, what you did today was the equivalent of executing a HALO jump in the dead of night into enemy territory and decimat
ing all the defenses so the SOF operators can go in clean the place up.”
“That sounds a lot sexier than what actually happened when I sat in front of my keyboard in an office building in the middle of the city.”
“As I said, heroes come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Thanks, Sammy. I hope this allows you guys to get ahold of Vazov and bring him in.”
“I’m guessing it will.” The first course was delivered and Sam thanked the waitress and then studied the plate. “It’s beautiful, but I’m not sure what we’re eating.”
“We’re eating art.”
“I guess so.” After they both tried the different things that were on their plates, he looked up and shrugged. “It tastes good, but I’m still not sure what it is.”
“Maybe we don’t need to know.”
“I guess.” Turning toward the window, Sam studied the view. “Brussels is a fascinating capital because not only is it the administrative capital of the EU, and NATO, it’s also the home to several powerful transnational criminal organizations.”
“A little something for everyone,” Lucky quipped. “I’m looking forward to seeing more of the city tomorrow.”
“It’s almost schizophrenic in its design because majestic art nouveau buildings sit next to rundown 1960 concrete developments, and regal nineteenth-century mansions are neighbors with the brutal glass buildings of the EU’s Gotham City.”
“That’s what makes it interesting.”
“I agree because it’s always the dichotomies that make you want to discover more.” The next course was delivered, and Sam let out an internal sigh as he studied two white squares that were sitting on top of a bowl of rocks. “I’m just not hip enough to appreciate this.”
Lucky lifted the white square and popped it into her mouth and smiled and he decided to do the same. This meal was like life and not knowing what you were in for often meant a great surprise was just around the corner.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sunday, September 24th
Sam sat on the chair in the room he’d been sharing with Lucky and waited for her to finish getting ready. Checking his phone, he saw a text from Owen updating him on the how the team was progressing with the backdoors that Lucky had given them yesterday.
So far, they had people from Interpol, the Federal Police, and the FBI slogging through Vazov’s network, digging for something that would irrevocably take him down.
According to Theo and Julia, they didn’t want to waste a metaphorical bullet and needed to ensure that when they took him into custody, he was never going to find a way out. Which meant presenting irrefutable evidence so as to avoid the option of bail.
It was a hell of a bar to reach, but all the interested parties were in agreement that’s how they wanted to proceed. He and the other agents were in a holding pattern until the intelligence techs from the various agencies produced something actionable, and that meant he and Lucky had the day off.
They had come up with a few things they wanted to see and were going to start with one of the most popular monuments in Brussels and move on from there. He lifted his coffee cup, drained it, and then refilled it. They hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and he hoped they could catch up this afternoon after they’d taken in the sights.
Running his hand over his face, he grinned and knew his desire to return to bed later had nothing to do with being rested for the work week and everything to do with being intertwined with Lucky.
“What are you plotting, Sam?”
He looked up and felt his breath hitch as he saw Lucky standing before him in a pair of fitted jeans and a cream sweater that lovingly hugged the curves he knew intimately. “Are you ready to be a tourist?”
“Yes, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m plotting nothing more than having a fun day in a beautiful city. We’re going to take in important cultural monuments, stuff our faces with frites, and find some famous Belgian chocolate to take home to your mom.” When she gave him a dazzling smile in response, he felt his heart beat steadily against his chest as if it was telling him he’d found the one. Not wanting to do anything to spook her, he stood and finished his coffee.
“Works for me.” She grabbed her jacket and looped her purse over her head and grinned. “Come on, Barton, show me a good time.”
“I thought I did that this morning when you were chanting my name like a prayer.”
Sliding her hand on her hip, she threw him a casual shrug. “I guess it was fun if floating away from your body and experiencing pleasure you never imagined possible is your sort of thing.”
He grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms. “I’ll try and put a little more effort into it tonight and see if I can make it your thing.” Seeing her eyes close momentarily let him know he was her thing; she just wasn’t ready to admit it. “Maybe tonight when I lay you down and take you, I’ll be able to communicate that I’m not simply making love to your body, but reclaiming what’s been mine for a thousand lifetimes.”
“And what’s that?” she asked breathlessly.
“The other half of my soul.” He lifted her chin and captured her mouth in a searing kiss, sealing his words against her heart. When he released her and lifted his head, he felt her hold tighten on his arms. “Let’s go see the sights.”
“All right,” she said quietly. “Do you really think I’m your other half?”
“Absolutely.” He gave her another kiss and then led her to the door. “I wouldn’t say it otherwise.” He saw her struggle to process his confession and decided to lighten things up so she wouldn’t panic. “Let’s start with the statue of the boy.”
“Might as well,” she replied. “According to the review I read, the famous Manneken-Pis is an emblem of the rebellious spirit of the City of Brussels.”
“Let’s get going then, I’d hate to miss a rebellious emblem.”
***
Walking down a narrow street lined with shops on a beautiful fall day in the vibrant city wasn’t something Sam had ever seen himself having when he’d been lying broken in the hospital bed. After the rescue op had gone south and he’d been caught in the explosion, he’d thought his life was over and never really expected to have any kind of happiness.
And yet here he was, happier than he’d ever been, holding Lucky’s hand and listening to her chatter about where they should go to sample the famous Belgium frites. “You pick, Lucky, because it doesn’t matter to me.”
“I guess you must like me if you’re willing to trust me with a decision like that.”
“More than you know,” he replied cryptically. Spying a souvenir shop, he noticed a reproduction of the famous boy painted in blue, holding a waffle. “Do you want me to take a picture of you next to the blue boy?”
Lucky stopped and studied it and then shook her head. “I’d do it if he were holding a cone of frites, but the waffle makes it a no.”
“It’s important to have standards.” They continued along until they saw a crowd in front of a small iron gate. “Let’s see what this is all about.”
They stood side by side and Sam looped his arm over Lucky’s shoulder and stared. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“The big cultural draw is a boy pissing into a fountain?”
“Apparently, this was the first fountain that played an essential role in the distribution of water all the way back to the fifteenth century. He also has about nine hundred outfits.”
“I guess that tells us something about how important he is to the people of the city.”
“He became an image and symbol of Brussels folklore, and supposedly represents the joy of the inhabitants and their capacity for self-mockery.”
“My brothers and I did that all the time when we were playing in the area behind our house and no one ever suggested we were a symbol of anything.”
“I’m ready to try the famous fries.”
Looking around the busy square, he took her hand. “Which way are we headed?�
�
“Lifting her phone, she checked the map and pointed east. “The Mannekin Pis Frite shop is about a block over.”
“Onward, woman, lead us to the food.”
Sam lifted a fry out of the cone and tapped it against Lucky’s. “Hope the twenty minutes in line was worth it.”
Dipping her fry into the mayonnaise, she ate it in two bites and then smiled. “Completely worth it.”
Sam did the same thing and then grabbed another one. “Never thought I’d like the mayo, but I do.”
“The potatoes that are used for the frites have limited availability outside of Belgium and they’re called Bintje. Supposedly, that’s the secret to their deliciousness.”
“I had no idea you knew so much about this.”
“I’m a research geek and I like to discover obscure facts.”
“You must love the show How It’s Made.”
Lucky held a fry in mid-air and stared. “You know about that show?”
“Of course, my youngest brother was obsessed with it and has probably watched every episode at least a dozen times.”
“I used to watch it a lot when Grif and I were traveling because it helped with my homesickness. Somehow, seeing how tripods were made soothed my soul.”
“How long did you two work together?”
“Five years on and off. We traveled from Abu Dhabi to the Seychelles to Hong Kong. It was exciting at first and then it just became routine. The last two days have reminded me how fortunate I am to be working at SAI, having the opportunity to do something different almost every day. Sitting at a keyboard for twelve or fourteen hours writing code isn’t as much fun as it used to be.”