“What are you printing?”
The printer stopped. The twenty-plus page edit letter was done. The screen flashed with a new message: Receiving print data.
He felt the same adrenaline as when he and his team breeched a building at the start of an op. Who knew technical espionage could be similarly exhilarating? This was definitely going in a book.
The print job would take a few minutes. Time stretched in the same way it did when he carried an M4 and cleared room after room, searching for the hostage.
He picked up the stack of papers, then turned and frowned at Grigory’s employee. “The end of my writing career.” He muttered the words, then spoke more clearly. “My editor decided to ruin my vacation. I need to respond, and Grigory said I could use his conference room and internet.”
“Let me see that.” The guy took a step forward and reached for the thick stack of papers.
Rand pulled them to his chest. “Do you mind? This isn’t exactly something I’m proud of. My editor hated the book I just spent the last six months pouring my soul into.” Then he sighed and thrust the papers toward the man. “Whatever. Enjoy my humiliation.”
The guy glanced at the papers, then nodded toward the printer. “What’s that? Why are you printing from a USB drive?”
“It’s a graphic file. My computer doesn’t have the program to edit it and crashes if I even click on the file name, so I keep it on a thumb drive.”
The guy frowned. “Mr. Laskin didn’t tell me you would be here.”
He was persistent, Rand would give him that. “I’m shocked Grigory didn’t tell you he invited me to lunch. I’m sure he keeps you apprised of all his social engagements. Perhaps later you can join us by the swimming pool?”
The man’s face reddened. “It is unusual for guests of Mr. Laskin to be in this part of the residence.”
Rand shrugged. “Grigory is eager to please Luka and Reuben Kulik and so he made accommodations for me while he visits with Luka’s daughter.”
Now the man’s eyes widened. “Daughter?”
“My girlfriend.”
The man took a step back. “Fine. But you should have asked before printing. Take your drive from the printer and leave this room. Send me your file, and I will print it.”
“I was trying not to waste anyone’s time. And I can’t send the file. It’s not on my computer.”
“Then give me the drive.”
He stepped forward, but Rand used his size to advantage and blocked the man’s path.
“It’s taking too long.” He reached around Rand, his hand aiming for the small drive.
Rand bumped his arm. “It’s a large file. Maps I made with AutoCAD. It always takes forever to print, but I need it to work out the book locations and timeline.” He cast a glare at the printer. “The whole sequence is fucked now.”
A moment later, the printer whirred to life, and Rand held back his relieved sigh. There was no telling how tech savvy this guy was. No way could he give him the USB drive.
Rand plucked the drive from the printer and shoved it in his pocket. The map printed on six pages. “You got tape?” he asked. “I need to put this together before I jump on Zoom with my agent.”
The guy went through a range of expressions before sighing when he saw the pages were clearly a map file as described. He turned toward the door. “I have tape.”
He grabbed a dispenser from his office across the hall and pressed it into Rand’s hand, then pulled the door to the tech room shut and locked it with a key. “You need anything else printed, ask me.” He gave him his business card. “Call or text if I’m not here.”
Rand shrugged. “Fine.”
Back in the conference room, Rand closed the door and dropped the stacks of paper on the conference table with a heavy sigh of his own. There was a mirrored camera dome mounted to the ceiling above the table and he had no reason to think Grigory would give him privacy. “Damn editor,” he muttered.
Freya’s voice was crystal clear through the bone-conduction headphones. “Well done, Lieutenant Commander. We’re in the network.”
“This better be worth it. If my career is going to implode no matter what, I should be enjoying my vacation with Kira.” He lined up the printout in two rows of three sheets and started taping the pages together.
Freya chuckled but said nothing. She knew the comment wasn’t for her so much as to establish him muttering to himself. It would be the fastest way for him to communicate with her, so he would be a mutterer for the foreseeable future.
As he worked, Freya gave him a quick update, confirming his suspicion that Nadia was angry because Grigory intended for Aleksandr to marry Kira.
Map constructed, he sat down again in front of the laptop and opened the link to chat with his fake agent. Vicki was ready and waiting. She’d logged in under Rand’s agent’s name and used a very good face-changing filter so the twenty-nine-year-old Valkyrie could pass for Rand’s fifty-year-old agent.
“This is so not how I planned to spend the ass crack of dawn on Monday of my four-day weekend,” Vicki said.
“Shit. That’s right. Tomorrow’s the Fourth. Dick move for Jerry to send that edit letter on the Sunday night of a holiday weekend.”
“I swear he had it drafted on Thursday, but waited to send for maximum vacation and holiday fuckery.”
Rand was going to owe his very nice editor a fine bottle of wine after being maligned like this. “Sorry you got pulled in. Did you have plans today?”
“I had a hot date with a SEAL.” Vicki grinned. “But he’s twenty years too young for me. Good thing he’s fictional, or it would be indecent.”
Rand laughed. He’d met Vicki a few times. She was young and smart and, now he knew she was a book nerd in addition to being a computer nerd. He was impressed that she hadn’t outed him as Reece Foresman, especially considering she wasn’t bound to any code of silence and the dedication had been blatant.
He suspected she liked having her secrets and wondered if she’d been given the chance, would she have revealed what she knew to Rand, or just pretended ignorance?
“SEALs are overrated. Big egos. Always bragging about how special they are. That’s why I write about Green Berets. They’re humble. Less effective, but humble.”
