Page 71 of The Honeymoon Hack

The metallic clang of footsteps on the metal floor made me duck my head out of the bay. A small group approached—a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair in a security uniform, a woman with sleek black hair, Scarlett in one of her blonde wigs, and Malcolm.

“Watch the monitor, Will.”

“Sorry.” I glanced at the screen again and reported back, “You’re still good.”

Malcolm followed a half-step behind Scarlett, leather-bound notebook in hand. The original plan hadn’t included him, but he was as protective of Scarlett as Rav was.

Brie’s face popped into my brain. Had they succeeded?

“And here we have part of our hardware maintenance team,” the woman with Scarlett and Malcolm said, gesturing toward us. “What are we working on today, gentlemen?”

Ronnie didn’t take his eyes off the back wall of the maintenance bay, just grunted in acknowledgment.

“Ronnie,” the woman—Pardeep Nasser, according to her badge—said with forced patience, “would you mindacknowledging a potential client? This is Ms. Parker, considering our highest security tier.”

Ronnie sighed audibly, extracting himself from our work but continuing to hold tools in his hands. “Ronnie Webb, systems hardware.” His tone made it clear that the interruption did not impress him.

Pardeep glanced at my ID badge. “And this is Will Stone, one of our newest technicians.”

Scarlett nodded politely to each of us in turn. The fact that her tour was proceeding meant their part had likely succeeded. Otherwise, Scarlett would have manufactured a reason to leave early.

Unless… What if the plan had failed spectacularly, and Scarlett was searching for a new approach?

No. She or Malcolm would have given me some hint if that was true. Wouldn’t they?

“How reliable are your systems during extreme weather?” she asked.

“One hundred percent,” Ronnie said. “We’re designed to withstand a direct Cat 5 hit.”

“More importantly,” the security officer, Derek Moss, the head of security, added, “our security protocols remain uncompromised regardless of external conditions.”

Malcolm made a show of jotting notes in his notebook. He must have been posing as Scarlett’s assistant.

“And what happens to our data in the event of a catastrophe?” Scarlett asked.

“Nothing,” Ronnie said, picking up a crimping tool he didn’t actually need. Telegraphing that we needed to get back to work? “Triple redundant systems, independent cooling backups for each server section. The resort upstairs could blow away, and you’d never know it down here.”

Pardeep’s phone chimed. She glanced at it, her lips tightening. “Excuse me for a moment.”

As she stepped away to take the call, Ronnie muttered something under his breath about tours interrupting real work.

“Your facility is impressive,” Malcolm said, using a British accent that made me chuckle—close, very close, but not quite right. “But Ms. Parker has been considering several options.”

“You won’t find better,” Ronnie said, stepping back into the panel with the crimping tool and voltage meter. “Unless I can’t finish my work.”

“I’ve just received word,” said Pardeep as she returned, her smile forced. “Hurricane Lorenzo has accelerated again, and the resort is initiating evacuation procedures.”

“We need to conclude the tour now.” Moss straightened, gesturing in the direction they’d come from. “I’ll escort you to the entrance. The boat will be waiting for you.”

“But we’ve only seen half the facility,” Scarlett’s tone shifted to indignant. “I’d like to see the support desk before we go.”

“Not possible,” Moss said firmly. “Security protocols require me to seal the outer doors once the resort begins evacuation procedures.”

“I understand.” Scarlett looked genuinely disappointed—or rather, her cover persona did. “Though I expect a more complete tourifI return.”

“Of course,” Moss agreed, already guiding them away. “This way, please.”

Once they’d departed, Ronnie pointed at the monitor again, as a reminder I needed to focus. “Fucking clients. Always want guarantees without understanding the technology.”