Page 65

MARA

S he remained by the door as I approached the computer terminal.

The room had the same white walls with recessed canned lighting that clicked on the moment the woman opened the door.

Most of the government buildings were equipped with motion-activated lighting to conserve power—one of my father’s many campaigns to usher Telvia into a sustainable future and avoid another catastrophic event like the Great Drought.

The computer terminal itself looked just like any other monitor, and the black screen with the blinking yellow light in the corner let me know the device was on, but hibernating from lack of use.

The rest of the room was more daunting. There were rows and rows of computer towers just as tall as me.

They lined the back of the room like sentinels with blinking lights of yellow, orange, green, and red.

Cables and wires ran along the floor in bundles, with rubber caution mats draped over them to prevent tripping, I presumed.

It made sense. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but now seeing it, I knew this was exactly right.

Sending out transmissions like these would require a lot of processing power in order to control so many nanochips.

To expect anything less than what I was seeing was silly of me, especially when I knew better .

A fine layer of perspiration started to bead between my breasts.

All of the computers gave off heat as they worked to power Raúl’s most evil and invasive creation.

Despite the air conditioning vents pumping cool air and fans that hummed, blowing the towers down to keep them from overheating, I could still feel the warmth trying to encroach in the space.

“Let’s go, technician,” the woman drawled again. “I’ve got better things to do than watch you.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, gripping the handles of my bag, and stepped deeper into the room. I made my way to the computer at the back, stepping over bundles of cables, feeling the unpleasant heat wrapping around me even tighter, suffocating.

Just upload the virus. That’s all you have to do. Upload the virus, and you can get out of here.

The computer was set up on a standing desk, and my hand instantly grabbed for the mouse, gliding it back and forth in two quick swipes. Something gave a muted click , and the monitor sprung to life. I dropped the bag on the floor, and gave my attention to the computer.

Password.

Damn. I brought a decoder with me, but I wasn’t sure if the woman was supposed to offer me a code? Or should I already have one?

Such simple questions with so much damn weight riding on them.

Biting my bottom lip, I reached into my bag and pulled out the thin, silver device about eight inches long and five inches wide, along with its cord.

Normally, this would have been simple—stick one end into the computer and the other into the decoder and the device would do the rest. But the last thing I wanted was for the guard to watch me do that.

I swallowed.

Blowing out a breath, feeling the sweat now gathering on my brow, I decided to ask.

Looking over my shoulder and angling my body toward her, I said, “Um, are you going to log me in?” I tried so hard to sound nonchalant about it. As if this was an obvious routine, and her failing to take initiative was on her and not on me.

She swept her gaze onto mine, narrowing her eyes, and the simple gesture caused my stomach to bottom out.

Crap…I chose wrong, didn’t I? Every muscle in my body tensed, preparing to spring into action. Because the moment the hound knew I was on the dinner menu, I’d have seconds to grab my weapon.

“That’s right. I forgot about that,” she said easily, though her eyes remained fixed on me with the same ominous glare. She tugged on the hound’s leash, reeling it in as she stepped forward to the computer.

With a steady hand, I took the decoder and carefully dropped it into my bag, hoping I looked relaxed and busy with the task I was given for the day. Crouched, I rummaged through the bag, pretending to look for something as she approached.

I smelled it first—the fetid breath of the beast—and then sensed the waves of heat coming off the abomination.

Only a few feet away, all that creature would need to do is lunge, and my face would be ripped from my head, skull crushed by powerful jaws.

I resisted the urge to look, resisted the need to face the danger head-on.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the woman grabbed the collar and pulled back, keeping the hellhound right at her hip.

With one finger, she poked at the keyboard, typing the password, but every second felt like an eternity as every single little hair on my body stood on end.

Because the beast’s jaw hung open, and his snout scented the air, and his tongue licked his canines as though he had decided I smelled good enough to eat.

I closed my eyes and swallowed, my survival instincts screaming at me to face my grim reaper, but I refused, trying to breathe.

“There,” she grumbled, pulling back the mutt as she stepped backwards.

Thank goodness …

I grabbed the thumb drive that contained the virus. “Thanks.” I stood, facing the computer once more.

She didn’t retreat back to the door like I was hoping. She remained only a few yards away, looming over my shoulder. Gooseflesh prickled over my arms as I shoved the thumb drive into the port, and got to work as the computer read the file.

“Have you been working for Telvian Technologies long?”

A shiver ran down my spine. “Uh, kind of. I just had my initiation last spring.” That was sort of true. I would have been initiated last spring if I hadn’t been kidnapped and dissented from Telvia. The computer displayed a progress bar, showing me that it was uploading the virus.

“Interesting.” Several heartbeats. “What are you doing?”

Every muscle stiffened. I licked my lips. “Updating the antivirus software. We made some improvements at the lab, and we’ve been working to make sure every REG computer has the latest update to protect against hacking from Dissenters.”

“Huh.”

I refused the urge to look at her. I just stared at that stupid progress bar.

Forty percent.

“Have you been to this site before?”

Why would she ask that? Was she trying to set me up? Something about her and the way she stared at me in the hall had me feeling on-edge.

“No,” I said a little too fast. I breathed deeply, trying to steady my racing heart. “I’ve worked on a few of the other sites, but this is my first time here.” God, I hope that was the right answer.

“Huh,” she muttered again.

Sixty-eight percent.

I crouched to the floor, rummaging through my bag. She was just behind me, angled to my right, and I had this gnawing feeling in my gut that this wasn’t going to be as smooth as I’d hoped. She was way too damn chatty, and I was guessing at what the safest answers were.

“Are you sure?” she asked with a drawl.

I froze. Five seconds. Heart pounding hard. Hand deep in my bag, I wrapped around the grip of my stunner.

“I think I would know if I’ve been here before,” I said with a little chuckle, trying to sound light and unafraid—smooth. Slowly, I rose, keeping the stunner hidden against my body.

Eighty-five percent.

“Why do you ask?” I didn’t dare look. I just kept my eyes trained on that progress bar.

Ninety percent.

“Just wondering. Something about you seems familiar.”

“Oh really? I don’t recognize you. People say I have one of those familiar faces.” Oh god…please make this thing go faster!

Ninety-three percent.

My thumb swiped over the power for the stunner, and just as it whirred to life, I gave several coughs to mask the sound.

“Excuse me,” I muttered. “This weather has my throat so dry.”

Ninety-seven percent.

Come on…come on!

I heard the woman’s boots stepping forward; the clicking of nails on tile. “Are you sure I’ve never seen you before? I feel like I should know you from someplace…”

“Nope,” I squeaked.

Ninety-nine percent.

“Turn around,” she ordered. “Let me look at your face again.”

Shit!

“Give me just a moment, I’m almost—”

“I said turn around now , technician.”

One hundred percent.

I spun around and pulled the trigger.