Good boy. You’re the best. I hope you tore his fucking throat out.” But looking around, he saw that, besides a few drops of blood near Paige’s desk, no one’s throat had been ripped out.
Well, that could be remedied.
“Where’d they take her, boy? Where’s Paige?”
Astonishingly, Max rose unsteadily to his feet. He stumbled, fell. Before Max could reach down to pet him, reassure him, the dog rose agai Kdogax n and stood.
He was standing, though he must have been weak from blood loss. He was standing, though in all likelihood he was lightly concussed. He was hurt, but, by God, he was standing.
He was as brave as any SEAL.
“Where’s Paige?” Max said again, feeling like an idiot. The dog was smart, but not that smart.
To his surprise, though, the dog moved slowly, painfully into the living room, stopping at a flower- covered armchair. Max followed.
Now that he’d calmed down, Max could read the situation in front of him as clearly as if seeing what had happened an hour or so ago. There were two chairs dragged in from the kitchen, one in front of the armchair, one sitting right behind it. Two men, then, flanking Paige. The seat of the armchair was still dented where she’d sat.
He looked more closely. There was something about the crease on the left hand side of the big seat cushion, corresponding to Paige’s right hand. He dug and came out with something small and metallic.
A thumb drive.
Smart, smart Paige. She’d had the presence of mind under threat to leave him something. What? He was distracted by Max. The dog’s coordination was improving by the minute. He was trotting back and forth between where Max sat in front of Paige’s computer and the front door, whining, pointing his nose at the door, clearly exasperated with the human Max who wasn’t getting it.
Paige went out this door , Max was communicating with every fiber of his doggy being. What’s the matter with you, you moron? Come on, let’s go get her!
But human Max needed more intel. Going blind into a situation was not good. Max stared at the screen, willing himself to understand what Paige wanted him to know.
He scrolled briefly through a couple of files randomly. All work related. When he opened them he simply stared, understanding one word in ten. Some were data spreadsheets. Some were graphs. Some lab results. The physics and genetics and biochemistry were way beyond him.
OK. He’d stand in awe of her education some other time. Right now he needed to know what was in here that could help him find her, and fast.
When he’d gone over the files three times—fending off Max, who was scrabbling at his leg and whining loudly—he decided to look at them in chronological order, something he should have done immediately.
The first one—Christ! It had been loaded less than an hour ago. Maybe the last thing she did before the two fucks picked her lock, shot her dog, and spirited her away.
He finally clicked through and saw a personal message, which he’d missed in his scrolling. From a woman named Silvia, who was apparently a friend. He read through the message and finally reached a grim understanding.
The company Paige worked for was sitting on a bomb that was about to blow up in its face. A bomb that, at a conservative estimate, was about to cost them millions, maybe billions. Something like this would eventually come out, but from what Max was able to see, right now the only thing standing between the bomb and the world was two super-smart women. One was being chased all over Argentina and the other had been kidnapped.
He opened his cell, engaged an encryption app designed by the friend he was calling, and waited.
“Yo. World’s Finest Hacker. Black Hat, White Hat, take your pick. How may I help you?”
Oh yeah. Cory Mayer, former Delta operator. Max had met him on a cross-training exercise. Cory had been a gifted shooter, but it turned out he was even more gifted with a keyboard, which had turned out handy when an
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham