Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13)(11)

Clearly surprised by the unexpected separation, Jordan looked puzzled.

“We’ll catch up with you,” Phillips assured her.

As Jordan began to follow the agent down the hallway, she glanced back at Allison and gave her a baffled shrug.

Phillips led Allison to his office to the left of the main room. While she waited, bewildered, in the doorway, he went to his desk and picked up a file folder, then came back to her and opened it. Looking at what was inside, he said, “Allison, I see your parents died when you were four years old. Your sister, Charlotte, was ten. The two of you moved in with your aunt and uncle, Jane and Russell Trent—”

Shocked, she interrupted. “Wait . . . You have a file on me?” She could feel her face heating up. “Why would you have a file on me?”

Oh God. What had he found out about her?

“We don’t let just anyone in here. We’re making an exception for you and Jordan. Jordan has clearance, and we’ve done a thorough check on you.”

“Why did you invite us here?” Allison asked. She could feel panic building inside her, but she was determined not to let it show.

“I didn’t. It was decided this morning. The order came from above. We knew that Jordan was your friend, and if we invited you together, you would most likely come. Does my looking at your file upset you?” he asked curtly, as though resentful of the intrusion on his time.

She squared her shoulders and took a step inside his office. Perhaps if she appeared cool and self-assured, he would not detect her anxiety. “It upsets me that you have a file on me. Yes.”

Allison suddenly realized she was surrounded by federal agents. She didn’t have any idea where they’d come from, and she was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Focusing on Phillips, she asked, “What did you decide this morning?”

“To see what you can do.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’d like to show you around our operation and then see what, if anything, you can do,” he explained.

What she could do? What was he talking about? When he’d opened the file, she was certain he was going to start listing her crimes, but now she was confused. Maybe he had other intentions. Whatever he wanted, he was certainly smug about it. His condescending inflection affected her like a dentist’s drill hitting a nerve.

He went back to her file folder. “I noticed you’ve been a student at Boston College for a long time now. Adding up your credits, it looks like you’re about to graduate. However, it’s taken you five full years. Why do you think that is?”

She couldn’t resist. If he thought to embarrass her, he was mistaken. She took a step toward him, batted her eyelashes, and said, “I’m not real bright.”

Several agents laughed. Phillips didn’t react. “Are you ready for your tour?” He walked across the room and paused in the doorway. “Just don’t touch anything,” he said before disappearing behind the tinted glass.

She looked at the wall of agents behind her. She had had enough of Phillips’s patronizing attitude and wanted to get out of there, but it was apparent she wasn’t being given a choice in the matter, so she reluctantly followed.

They proceeded down a hallway where the walls were clear glass. There was so much activity she didn’t know where to look first. They passed a huge room filled with computers and techs, all men dressed in suits and ties, with their jackets off. Allison stopped to watch. They were typing furiously and watching their screens. Against the far wall facing her was a giant world map. Dots of light appeared with lines curving from relay station to relay station, bouncing off satellites around the globe. It was obvious to Allison that they were trying to pinpoint the exact location where a cyber attack originated, but the person or persons at the source had put up barricades. She stopped to watch. The screen was filling up with more dots, indicating the techs weren’t getting anywhere.

When Phillips noticed Allison wasn’t behind him, he came back for her. “What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer for a couple of minutes. As she watched the lights jump across the screen, she began to recognize the pattern. It was one she had seen before. “Is this a training session?”

“No, of course not. This isn’t a training facility. These are all professionals.”

“Then why is it taking them so long to . . .” She paused. Trying to be more diplomatic, she revised her question so that it wouldn’t sound antagonistic. “How long do you think it will take before one of them pinpoints the location?”

“It could take a day or two, sometimes longer, and sometimes the location disappears before we can locate the point of origin.” He stared at her while she continued to study the map, then offered a challenge. “You think you can do better?”

There it was again, that smart-ass attitude in his tone and expression. She decided she wouldn’t let him irritate her, until he said, “I didn’t think so.”

Oh, it was so on. She brushed past him, opened the door, and walked into the room. The air smelled clean but with a hint of aftershave. Every male in the room looked up at her and froze. She smiled, hoping to put them at ease as she walked over to a tech in the back row and said, “Would you mind if I have a try?”

All heads turned in the direction of Phillips, who was still outside the glass. He nodded.