Intrusion (21 page)

“Will do.” She took a step towards the elevator. “Oh, wait. The envelope.” She turned back to the receptionist and pasted an embarrassed smile on her face. “I completely forgot to get it to Mr. Coburn. Would you see that he gets it?”

The woman took the envelope and set it on the edge of her desk. “Pregnancy turns the brain to mush, huh? I’ll make sure that he gets it.”

Audra pressed the elevator call button. She held her breath, adrenaline coursing through her veins, but when the doors slid open it was empty. She stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby.

The elevator started its descent.

“Tell me you got it.” Cam’s voice kissed her ear once more.

She grinned. She’d done it. She’d actually pulled it off! “I didn’t get it.”

“What?” His voice went hard. “You really didn’t get it?”

She studied her laughing face in the elevator’s chrome. “Gotcha.”

Cam’s chuckle filled her ear. “You’re gonna pay for that. Get to the car. I’ll meet you there in ten.”

***

Cam tucked his loaded flash drive into his pocket and slipped from the security control room, tugging his cap back on his head. The fluorescent lights reflected off the gleaming white floor tiles, and he started down the long hallway, anxious to get back to Audra.

He’d readily admit to being a control freak. His security business was a one-man show and until now he’d refused to put the fate of his own success in anyone else’s hands. He’d trusted Audra with a task that, if it had gone wrong, could’ve broken them. Instead of taking over and telling her what to do, he’d believed in her ability to get the job done. And she’d nailed it.

A heady rush buzzed through him that had nothing to do with his own triumph and everything to do with hers. Her quick, intelligent mind was a beautiful thing, even more precious than the perfect shade of her gorgeous mouth, or her simple, feminine curves.

A man stepped into the corridor giving Cam a glimpse of his profile before turning into the men’s room up ahead.

Coburn.

Cam slipped his Radio Frequency reader from his pocket and palmed it in his hand. His Mama had always said never overlook a sweet opportunity to clone someone’s ID card. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t used those exact words, but if she’d lived long enough surely she would’ve seen the wisdom of the statement and adopted it as her own.

He suppressed a grin and ambled into the rest room. Coburn stood at one of urinals, oblivious to the fact that he was about to get hosed. Cam whistled his way up to the urinal, unzipped his pants and assumed the position. He stared straight ahead, observing the number one unspoken rule of men’s room etiquette: never look at the person next to you.

“Can I help you?” Coburn’s voice echoed off the marbled walls.

Apparently dipshit had never learned rule number two: no talking. The man belonged in the women’s restroom if he thought it acceptable to exchange pleasantries while taking care of business.

Cam tensed his jaw. “Not at the moment, no. Ares Security sent me over to do a routine upgrade on your security software.”

Coburn finished draining his snake and zipped up, moving on to the bank of stainless steel sinks. “I trust we’re secure?”

“Tighter than a virgin on prom night.” Cam listened for the squeak of the faucet, and the water hitting the basin.

When he heard Coburn rip off a section of paper towel, he zipped his own pants and headed for the sink, slipping the RF reader that now contained Coburn’s captured code back into his pocket.

“Well.” Coburn tossed his paper towel into the wastebasket and headed for the exit. “Thanks for keeping us secure.”

“Oh, no thanks necessary, sir. It’s all part of the job.”

Chapter Fifteen

The hi-beams from the oncoming car cut a sharp swath of light across the dormant desert. Saguaro cacti rose from the ground, their phantom silhouettes surrounding Ivan as he leaned against the hood of his own vehicle and waited for the man to step from the sedan.

What was taking him so long?

An owl screeched from its prickly perch, the sound slicing straight through him. He tamped down the stirrings of annoyance before they could flood through him. Three years he’d waited.

Don’t get impatient now.

The man stepped into the light, his fingers flexed white-knuckled around the briefcase in his hand. Face hidden in the shadows of the moonless night, Ivan couldn’t study the man’s expression, but his tentative posture gave away his state of mind.

Ivan straightened. “Glad you could make it.”

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice.” He took another step into the beam of light, illuminating one side of his face.

Shock rippled through him. “Coburn.”

“How did you know my—” A Killdeer squeaked its morbid cry overhead and Coburn flinched. “Y—you. Look, I don’t care what game you’re playing. Just give me the money; I’ll give you the prototype so we can both get the hell out of here.”

Fine. Coburn wanted to get down to business. So be it. “Let me see it.”

Coburn pulled the briefcase to his chest. “Not without the money.”

He had to give Coburn credit for playing a little bit of hardball. Maybe Ivan had underestimated him.

Not for long. He pulled his Sig Sauer from behind his back and pointed it at Coburn. The barrel glinted in the headlights. “Either I inspect the prototype first, or I blow your head off and pry the case from your corpse. Your call.”

Coburn sucked in a breath and thrust the briefcase towards him.

Nothing like the threat of a nine-millimeter bullet to tip the scales in his favor. “Good choice.”

He snatched the case and deposited it on the hood of his car. The metal latches snapped under his fingers, the hinges crackling as he pried it open. He flicked on his Mag light and shone the beam across the contents of the box.

His chest tightened, he swallowed hard. He skimmed his fingers across the dark blue lightweight fabric.

Blue? Wait a minute—

He raised his Sig once more, spearing Coburn in the line of fire. “The suit you showed me was gray, not dark blue.”

Coburn’s loafers shuffled against the rocky dirt. “Well—we—we’ve been experimenting with different colors.”

What he wouldn’t give to see Coburn’s lying face right now. Did the man think he was a nitwit? That he hadn’t done his homework?

Ivan lifted the suit out of the case. To an untrained eye, all appeared in order. The lightweight silky fabric slid through his fingers until he reached the trigger point—a small, almost invisible button at the waist. He pressed the spot and the fabric hardened, becoming heavy in his hands.

“How about giving me my money now?” Coburn’s tight, agitated question sealed his fate.

Frustrated tears stung at Ivan’s eyes. The damn armor in his hands was nothing but a copy. An expensive, well-attempted copy, but it lacked one essential ingredient that Nanodyne’s armor possessed: Dr. McCain’s patented integration of the nano-tubes that gave the fabric enough resistance to withstand the force of a bullet.

He clenched his jaw and depressed the trigger. The fabric went limp in his hands. “There’s just one more thing I need you to do for me.”

“What now? I fulfilled my part of the bargain. Where’s my money.”

He tossed the body suit at Coburn. “Put it on.”

Coburn lunged for the fabric and caught it before it fell to the ground. “Wh—what for?”

So I can humiliate you, you bastard.

“I want to see what it looks like on.”

A strangled sound hissed from Coburn’s throat. “Th—then you put it on.”

Ivan’s teeth gnashed together. “But then I couldn’t tell how it looks on myself, could I?” He pointed his gun at Coburn’s shadowed head. “Put it on. Now.”

“Okay. Fine.” Coburn’s hands jerked up. “You want a damn fashion show before you decide to purchase, you got one.” He unzipped the suit, then slipped out of his loafers and stepped into the legs before drawing it over his body and pushing his arms through the sleeves. “There.”

Beautiful. “Zip it.”

“For Godsake—”

“Zip. It.”

Coburn’s trembling hand dipped into the light as he fumbled with the zipper, drawing it up to the collar. “Done.”

“Good. Now I want you to trigger the magnetic field.”

This time Coburn made no arguments. He pressed the switch, the subtle stiffening of his body let Ivan know he’d done as asked. “Are you satisfied?”

No. He was angry. Pissed. Frantic. But he wouldn’t let it show.

“I’m very pleased with the way it looks on you. It’s a good design, don’t you think?”

“I—I do.”

“Then there’s just one more test.”

“What now?” Some of Coburn’s earlier belligerence returned. “I’m not going to twirl around and walk the runway for—” He broke off, his eyes widening on Ivan. “Wha—What are you doing?”

He took aim at Coburn’s chest. “I’m going to see if it works. You can’t expect me to meet your price without making sure I’m getting what I’ve paid for.”

“It works. Of course it works.” Coburn shuffled back a few steps, but froze when the cocking of the Sig’s hammer clicked in the silence. “Why would I try to sell you something that didn’t perform as it should? I’ve got my standards, you know.”

Ivan shrugged. “Then you shouldn’t mind if I try it out.”

“You’re—you’re actually going to shoot at me?”

“With real bullets. Yes.” He tipped the gun a notch. “Stand tall.”

“You’re crazy. One crazy son of a bitch.”

Coburn’s entire body trembled. His feet slipped across the dirt searching for traction as he tried to scramble out of range. The sedan brought him up short. His back arched across the hood and gave Ivan the opening he needed.

He squeezed the trigger, the recoil rippling up his right arm. The bullet struck the man square in the chest and slammed him against the sedan. His knees buckled and he slid to the ground. Blood bloomed across the front of the armor.

An expensive copy. Nothing more. Was his dream for Serbia always destined to slip through his fingers like the desert sand under his feet?

He wiped the sweat from his brow, but not the tears that slid down his cheeks. “Bastard.”

He gripped the edges of the open briefcase and flung it off the hood of his car. It took flight for several seconds and then slammed into the windshield of Coburn’s vehicle. The splinter of glass rent the air followed by a cacophony of owl warbles. He spit on Coburn’s body before turning his back on the dead man and climbing into his car.

He leaned his forehead on the wheel, bile rising in his throat. He forced it down; he would not taste bitter defeat.

Who are you doing this for, Ivan?
His wife’s sweet voice whispered in his ear. She’d always had such a pleasing lilt to her words, but he couldn’t bear to hear her now.

He was no longer Ivan Petrovic, soft-spoken diplomat and beloved family man. No, that man had disappeared when the blood of his family was spilled on Serbian soil. Soil that he had to ensure remained in the hands of Serbia.

“I’m doing this for Serbia, Mina,” he muttered, burying his face in his trembling hands.

But the rules had changed—there were no longer any rules. He’d obliterated them. Tromped across them.

Was he doing this for Serbia? Or for himself?

***

“Jonathan was in Coburn’s office today.”

“Peterson?” Cam’s gaze snapped up from his perusal of CI’s security blueprints and collided with Audra as she dropped into the chair beside him.

Back in her faded jeans and t-shirt, she still managed to tie his insides into knots. Why did everything about her rev his blood, fire him up, and spark a desire that threatened to rebel against the restrictions he’d put on it?

What he felt for Audra wasn’t purely physical. If he let his libido rule him, he risked missing out on something more. Something deeper. He wanted her, yes, but he also
wanted
her—in his life, his future.

The skin between her brows wrinkled. “They were in some kind of closed door meeting, and when they came out—he looked right at me. I tried to hide my face, but what if he recognized me?”

“Why do you think he was there?”

“My best guess is he was negotiating a contract with Coburn Industries. Coburn probably agreed to sell him my armor.”

“Unethical bastard.” He frowned, and reached for her hand. “Don’t worry, more than likely he wouldn’t have recognized you nine months pregnant and with a drastic hair cut. But if he did, he’s probably reported the sighting to the police by now. We have to be prepared for everything.”

“Oh, God. I’m not cut out for this. I just want my life back.”

He rubbed his thumb across her palm. “And I’m going to make sure you get it.”

Even if it meant watching her walk out of his life after it was all over. Maybe if he didn’t fail her, she’d realize he was worthy of sticking around for.

“While I was inside Coburn Industries server control room, I took the liberty of capturing their security blueprints to my external hard drive.” He turned his laptop so she could share his screen. “We now know exactly what kind of system CI employs and how to bypass it. By tomorrow night we’ll have our proof.”

“So soon?” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and ran it through her hair. “How can we possibly be ready?”

“Look. Ares Security uses biometric entry checkpoints on every floor of CI’s laboratory division. Here, here and here.” He tapped out their locations on the drawing on screen. “They require both a thumbprint and an ID card authentication. Guests are required to be escorted up by either an employee or guard.”

She was silent for a long moment, studying the blueprints then she sucked in her bottom lip and let it out back out. “How are we going to get someone’s ID card?”

“Ever hear of radio frequency identification?”

She tipped her head to look at him. “Like the pay passes they use in some credit cards?”

“Exactly. It’s a quick and easy way to authenticate, but it’s also vulnerable to cloning attacks with the right equipment.” He coughed out a laugh. “You know, I never thought I’d say it, but it’s amazing what you can get from taking a leak in the men’s room.”