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She chuckled and sat back against the couch cushion. He scowled back at her. She hid her grin by lifting her glass of whiskey to her lips and taking a sip. She tilted her head to the side and waited.

“Tell me why your gut feels you are being manipulated,” she said.

He rose and stepped over to the fireplace mantle. Staring into the flames, he thought about the report. He sighed again, walked over to his desk, and retrieved the report he had pulled. Walking back to the couch, he held it out to Juliette. She took the report and read through it.

“There are only four others besides myself that have access to the satellite that took the picture that you found in the helicopter.”

She studied the list and the description next to each one. “Do any of them have any personal financial problems? Gambling? Medical? New relationships?”

He shook his head. “That was the first thing I checked.”

She frowned and flicked through additional pages, running her finger along the report as she scanned it. Her lips parted and she turned back to the satellite image, before turning back to another page. She leaned forward and placed her glass on the side table before spreading the pages out across the coffee table.

He straightened, watching as her eyes darted from one page to another. She worried her bottom lip, sliding her finger over several pages. Finally, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

“What is it?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing on her face.

She held up her index finger. The sound of the phone ringing, then a sleepy voice answering sent a wave of impatience through him. She glanced up at him.

“Hey, Kev. This is Juliette Natnel. I need to pick your brain,” she said.

“Juliette? Hey. What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Kev mumbled.

“Yes, everything is fine. I’m sorry to wake you. Where are you?”

Kev grunted. “What? No, it’s okay. I’m in England for a few days for some meetings. What do you need?”

“Oh, sorry. I wouldn’t have bothered you if I had known. I just had a question that I thought you might know the answer to off the top of your head considering it’s your field of specialty,” she said.

“It’s all good. I needed to get up, anyway. I like to go for a run before the streets get too crowded. What’s your question?” Kev responded.

“I heard through the grapevine Dutchcorp was in trouble, then suddenly they aren’t. Is that true?” she asked.

Kev muttered an oath, and she could hear him sitting up. He must have covered the speaker because his voice was muffled as he spoke to someone. A second later, he spoke.

“Hold on a sec.”

She waited while it sounded like he shuffled into another room. It was obvious he had found some distraction to help relieve the boredom of his meeting. The click of a door came through the phone before what sounded like the lid of the loo being lowered.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice hushed.

“Who’s backing them?” she asked.

“Jeez, Juliette. How do you find this shit out? I don’t know what is worse, that you know or the fact that you want information on it. No one is supposed to know,” Kev muttered.

“Never mind how I know or why, Kev. Who is financing them?”

Kev signed. “This shit could get me killed if it gets out,” he warned.

“I know. I hate to put you in this spot, but it’s a matter of life or death,” she replied.

“I don’t want to know any more. The less you tell me, the safer it is for both of us—I hope. Fortunately for you, I haven’t been given orders—yet—not to disclose what I’m about to tell you. About a year ago, Aaron Ball, the founder and CEO of Dutchcorp, was caught doing some illegal shit to support his spaceflight hobby. It didn’t help having a couple of major rocket explosions and getting caught with his pants down with someone other than his wife. It looked like he was about to go under when suddenly, Dutchcorp gets this new influx of money and some sweet contracts from multiple governments to send some satellites up into space.”

She sighed in frustration. “I know about all that. I want to know who is funding him.”

Kev released a sardonic chuckle and huffed out a breath. “You and a few governments around the world. You see, the governments who signed the sweet contracts aren’t ones that normally send up satellites, especially advanced military and surveillance grade ones that came with technology from top secret USNA technology sites.”

“I need a name, Kev,” she said.