“Earth to Dylan,” Liz said. “Mr. Space Cadet clearly knows more than he’s saying.”
“We went kayaking.”
“Oh great, that explains it.”
“After Owen was shot. We were on the San Francisco Bay. I agreed to help her find a way to access the data, to make it public.” Dylan told her the rest, about his meetings with Katarina, about her veiled threats.
“Sit down,” Liz said, after he finished. “Drink your wine.”
Dylan took another sip, a big one.
“Here’s the thing.” Liz was now pacing in front of him, a silhouette in the sunset. The sky was orange and red outside the windows. Not a cloud in the sky. “I knew all this,” she said. “But I’m glad you finally told me, Dylan, because I never lost faith in you.”
“You didn’t?”
She shook her head. “Big brothers do stupid things, but they always look out for little sisters.”
He smiled, feeling a turn inside, a turn that he’d been wanting and waiting for. “True.”
“Katarina thought she might win an ally close to me. And she might learn more about the data from you, Dr. Galant.”
“I teach about medical data. That doesn’t mean I know a whole lot.”
“Jax has the coding, you have the looks. Is that it?”
“It was never that simple,” Dylan said. “But yes, you and Jax have your coding secrets. I never denied admiring that.”
“And Katarina thought she might use you to learn them.”
“I haven’t given her much.”
“You set up the cameras on the Conrad farm.”
Dylan started to deny it, but decided against it. “That was harmless.”
“Harmless until I was there, and someone knew it, and then Owen died on his way to see me.”
“You don’t—”
“He was shot that night, and Katarina arranged it.”
“Really? How can you be sure?”
“I have my sources. She texted someone near here right before it happened. Owen warned me…”
“I had no idea.”
“The point is, I want friends who stay on my side.”
Dylan flinched. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“I am. I really am, Liz. I never thought it would go this far, with Owen, with everything.”
“You’re dealing with a very dangerous woman.”
“I figured that out…too late.” He glanced down at the cheese, and laughed. “I guess that’s why I thought it would be poisoned.”
“Katarina didn’t deliver the cheese.” Liz smiled. “I have a new assistant for that. Katarina’s too busy trying to undermine me and steal all my data to give to Russia, so they can use it against the free world. But it’s not too late. I could use your help.”
It was quiet then, the sun turning blood red as it fell below the horizon. Dylan’s mind rehashed months of betrayal, and the money that awaited him. Babel was going public. Liz was like a little sister. He could help her. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
“Tomorrow I will give a speech as part of the official IPO,” Liz said. “The rest of the funds will arrive for the tower, and the data will move to the servers immediately. Katarina will try to access it. But she’ll need one thing.”
“What?”
Liz held out her arm and plucked out a single, almost invisible hair. She handed it Dylan. “Give her this and tell her it’s the key to unlock the code. Say that you got Jax to tell you about the hair and the DNA encryption. She’ll believe it.”
“Why are you letting her have it? And why through me?”
“Because she trusts you,” Liz said. “And this is your chance to win my trust back.”
53
The D.C. attorney, Chris Planter, waited for the elevator, arms folded. He had worked with Presidents and Senators. His clients were CEOs. He wore a pinstripe suit like armor. Nothing intimidated him. But something was different—a little off—about this woman in a skyscraper in Nebraska. He felt his heart pumping faster as the elevator doors opened.
Two others entered the elevator with him. His associate and a young woman, Liz’s assistant. The elevator began to rise, the numbers above the door reached 120.
“Here we are,” said the assistant.
The door opened to a vast concrete space without a single wall. Before stepping out, Chris asked, “How many floors will there be?”
“250. The frame is already that high. They’re filling it out as fast as they can.” The assistant pointed outside the elevator, to the right. “Go ahead. She’ll be over there.”
Chris stepped out and saw, at the floor’s edge, a slim figure holding a still pose with hands and feet planted on the ground.
“No, just him,” said the assistant.
Chris turned back and saw his young associate halfway out of the elevator.
“Sorry,” said the assistant. “She invited only Mr. Planter.”
He nodded to his associate. “Wait in the lobby.”
“I’ll be watching my email if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” Chris turned to Liz’s assistant. “You sure she’s ready to meet?”
“Go ahead,” the assistant said. “She’ll be ready.”
Chris nodded and turned back to Liz. She hadn’t moved. He walked toward her. “Ms. Trammell?”
She didn’t respond, didn’t budge. Music filled the space. Something with words, but not in English. It was trancelike, sounded Scandinavian.
He inched closer. “Ms. Trammell?”
This time she lowered to the floor, pressing back into a crouch, then rose up to her feet. Her face showed a smile, but also a wild sort of energy.
He glanced down, awkwardly, only for his eyes to pass over her yoga tights and settle on her bare feet. His hands went to the knot of his tie, as if loosening it might help. “Is this still a good time?”
“Yes,” she said. “Have you met with the President?”
“Two days ago,” Chris said. “He knew all about your building.”
“And you’ve told him about the foreign buyer?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Chris hated one thing above all: not knowing. He had been working for her without complete information. He kept his face smooth, his coiffed hair a helmet of dignity. “What happens next?”
“When I called you a few weeks ago, I had just discovered this U.S. law, the one that could stop the deal.” She was rocking on her bare feet, excited. “A foreign buyer, like the prince from Dubai, can’t buy a company if it affects national security.”
“Right,” Chris said. “And the whole point—what I told the President—was that you did not want this deal to go through, that you opposed the prince.”
“Right, but here’s the thing, the prince will be sending me four billion dollars today.” Liz held out her palms in innocence. “I met with him. He told me about Katarina, who’s the real danger. I agreed to play along with the prince so Katarina would reveal herself, her plan. Then we could catch her.”
“Who’s we?”
“Allies,” Liz said. “The point is that Babel’s data has to be secure. Katarina will become the acting CEO. She’ll have access to the data vault, and if she uses the data it would be a disaster.”
“This information would have been helpful for the President.” Chris was a patient man whose patience was wearing thin. “I have a reputation with him. He trusts me.”
Liz smiled, quiet for a moment. “Well, good news, I’m going to let you deliver a huge PR victory to the President.”
“Go on.”
“First, someone else is going to join us. Hunter Black, the chief engineer of tower construction, and as I’ve learned, a CIA operative.”
“What?” Chris asked, trying to process why a spy would be leading the tower construction, and why Liz would tell him that.
“You’ll need to work together,” Liz said. “And I wanted to have my lawyer with me for this meeting. Oka
y?”
Chris nodded.
Liz called her assistant and asked her to bring Mr. Black up for their meeting. He arrived a few minutes later and Liz made the basic introductions. To Chris, Hunter Black looked like a typical engineer: brown hair and brown eyes, a square jaw and an easy smile. Nothing remarkable about him. Perfect for an agent, Chris figured.
“Does the President know about Katarina?” Liz asked.
The sudden and direct question did not alter Hunter’s smile. “He’s been briefed.”
“Here’s what he needs to know now,” Liz said. “Today, as part of the IPO, I will announce that the data is moving to the tower. And that Katarina will be taking over as CEO. You know what that means?”
Hunter nodded. “Katarina will try to access the data.”
“You’ll need to be ready to bring her in. Can I trust you to do that?”
“When do you think she’ll act?”
Liz shrugged. “You’re the spy. I’ll count on you to monitor her.”
“Of course.” Hunter glanced to Chris, then back to Liz. “No offense, but why is your lawyer involved?”
“Because this isn’t just about the data. It’s about control of my company, and Chris is going to be talking to the President again soon. He needs to know what’s going on. You know about the prince in Dubai?”
“He’s buying your shares,” Hunter said.
“Half of them.” Liz paused, holding the gazes of both men. “Mr. Planter will ensure he doesn’t get a controlling stake, and Mr. Black will be handling Katarina. Are we on the same page?”
Both men nodded.
“Anything else?” Chris asked.
“No,” Liz said. “It’s almost done.”
* * *
Four hours later Liz had put on her CEO face. No suit, of course, but she’d at least showered and changed out of her yoga pants. The news cameras zoomed onto her flawless smile with the Nebraska landscape stretching behind her and the tower looming above. Bright green grass covered the ground, and the June air was fresh.
Liz had her Babel team assembled behind her for the speech—Katarina, Jax, Dylan, and dozens of others who had joined the company in its first days. The only one missing was Owen.
“We want the world to be connected,” Liz announced. “And it should also be private and safe, so we can all talk with friends and loved ones with peace of mind. Your data will be secure. Today it moves to this tower, with the most sophisticated security the world offers.”
Cameras flashed. Stocks traded. The price rose.
Liz came to Babel’s plans for the future. “We are a global company, and we will need a global presence.” She held out her arms, motioning to the tower. “This will be our headquarters, a place for the best and the brightest. Our next regional office will be in Dubai. It will open within the year, a testament to how our translations are changing the Middle East. When people can speak freely, without borders, it brings understanding, and understanding brings peace.”
Liz talked about Babel’s contracts with the United Nations, with the World Bank, and with governments around the world. She talked about new frontiers of translation technology. She talked about the company’s leadership. She introduced Katarina, who would become the global executive in charge of operations. She talked on, and Babel prices soared.
By the time the speech finished, Liz had four billion dollars from the prince in her bank account. She had everything she needed to finish the tower and to protect the data. She had Katarina’s position. She had Dylan’s loyalty.
The trap was set. Now she just needed to wait.
54
By the time Rachel, her husband, and her kids were an hour from the Conrad farm, she regretted the decision. Hours and hours in the car, with the constant chirping of two little ones in the back, had driven her crazy. They could have had a nice Saturday morning in the Chicago suburbs. Coffee, backyard toys, and a farmer’s market. Instead they woke three hours before dawn to drive to a real farm. The food wouldn’t be any better. But it was family. You dropped everything for family, especially when you might also help a friend who had lost her way.
It was her grandfather Pops’ ninetieth birthday. He and Grandma had eight kids. The eight kids had twenty-seven of their own.
“Mommy!” shouted Tyler from the back.
She turned around and smiled, for the hundredth time. “Yes, honey?”
Her toddler pointed out the window. “Cow! Cow!”
Rachel nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Cows.”
They drove past another field of them. Her husband mumbled, “Smells like roses.”
Rachel had barely noticed it. The air had the familiar sickly sweet tinge of manure. That meant they were close.
“What’s thaaaat?” asked her five-year-old, Madison. “Look!”
Rachel saw it on the flat horizon: a needle of steel rising up in the distance. “That’s a tower,” she said.
“Whoa, that’s big.”
“I still can’t believe she built it here,” her husband said. “It’s crazy.”
“Liz was always a little crazy. You know that.”
Her husband laughed. “Yeah, but it’s different when you’re young. Billionaires can make the crazy actually happen. I read that the total cost could top five billion. Five billion…in Nebraska!”
“Liz lost her way a long time ago.”
“It’s insane. I can’t wait to hear what your grandfather says about it.”
“Don’t get him started.”
As Rachel and her husband talked more about the tower, Rachel realized Liz had succeeded in at least one way. Her tower in the middle of cornfields fueled curiosity. Everyone would be mesmerized by this tech magnate’s lavish project. The tower had secured Liz’s spot on magazine covers for the rest of her eccentric life. She was becoming a modern Howard Hughes.
They finally saw the familiar white barn and silo in the distance, and they turned down the long, straight dirt road to the farmhouse. It was immaculately white. The only things out of place from her memory were the row of parked cars out front and the tower looming in the distance.
A troop of cousins greeted them and helped them unload. The kids flooded out into the farm, throwing stones and running on the bright green grass. It was freedom from the minivan, and they loved it.
Joyful chaos ensued, and Rachel recanted her prior regrets. It was good to be here. This place was a happy one in her memory, and it was one of the few that remained the same. Pops had always been like that—an unmoving stone within the racing river of progress.
Jake was an apple fallen from the same tree. He greeted her with a warm hug before hauling a few of their bags inside.
It wasn’t until after dinner and the kids were asleep that she managed to pull him aside. They sat in rocking chairs on the front porch, watching the lightning bugs and drinking iced tea. Beyond, the lights of construction lit the upper half of the tower, high above the flat horizon.
“This place has always been so peaceful and quiet,” Rachel said. “The tower must bother you.”
As usual, Jake took his time before answering. “More than it should. But we’re getting used to it. Nothing else has changed.”
“You’re older now.”
Jake laughed lightly. “You, too. Things good in Chicago?”
“Paul’s working hard, but he’s doing well. The kids are great. Tyler will start preschool this fall. After this weekend, I bet he’ll want to grow a beard.”
Jake ran his hands along his thick brown hair. “He might as well start now. Took me twenty years.”
Quiet fell over them. Even the conversation from the farmhouse was muted. Occasional clangs of construction and chirps of crocuses echoed faintly in the night sky. The late spring air felt alive.
“I heard you met Liz Trammell,” Rachel said.
He nodded and kept his eyes on the tower.
“I’ve known her a long time,” Rachel continued. “I’ve seen the effect she has on men. I’m
surprised you managed to hold out. She usually gets what she wants.”
“So do I.”
She heard an odd resolve in his voice. The kind he typically saved for projects that improved the farm. “And what do you want?”
He turned to her. “I want God’s will. He put her in my path, and He put me in hers.”
At least he spoke his mind. “She’s not right for you, Jake. She’s unstable, vain, arrogant—”
He held up his hand. “She’s spirited. That can be good, if she focuses on the right things.”
Rachel laughed lightly. Maybe even Jake had fallen under Liz’s spell. “She was my best friend. Don’t you think I tried to change her focus over the years? I’ve tried by example. I’ve tried by words. I’ve tried by negotiation. The woman’s path has not altered a single degree. She’s still full of pride.”
“Stern words,” Jake said. “But you almost sound jealous.”
“I’m not—” Rachel paused, forcing herself to be honest. “Only part of me is jealous. Who wouldn’t want beauty, fame, and fortune?”
“I don’t.”
“Exactly. I just can’t imagine her bending, much less breaking, the way she’d have to, to fit with you.”
“We’ll see. I’m going to visit her tower, and the way it stands now, one of us must break. Or at least bend.” He fixed his heavy, serious gaze on her.
“It usually works that way…” Rachel realized Jake could be right. Maybe all of her prior senses of warning about this tower had been misplaced. Maybe Liz was supposed to have built it just so she could confront this immovable object in her path. Maybe God was using Jake to change her. “Why do you want to visit the tower?”
“To show her this isn’t just about my farm,” he said softly. “To show her I care about her.”
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