Immune (The Rho Agenda #2)(115)

The rumble of thunder rattled the window frame, pulling the president’s gaze outward once again. No doubt about it. The coming storm would be a bad one.





123


Jennifer rolled over in bed, stretching her arms until they were fully extended above her head. The sheets smelled good, and the clean smell of freshly laundered linens reminded her just how much her circumstances had improved this last week.

The light of the early morning sun slanted into her room through the French doors, opened wide to the balcony. A loud squawk brought her gaze around to the bird perched atop her open laptop. It was about the size of her hand, its body a brilliant orange from its underbelly to the tip of the long, pointed crest that extended outward from its forehead. Jorge had told her it was a vermillion cardinal, a species native to Colombia and Venezuela. Beautiful.

But it was sitting on her laptop. Probably getting ready to poop all over it.

"Hey. Scat!" Jennifer tossed a pillow in its general direction, sending the bird flying back out through the balcony doors toward the gardens below.

A low chuckle caused her to sit up, pulling her sheet up to her chest.

"I see you had an unwanted helper." Jorge Espe?osa leaned back in the wicker chair across the room, his warm smile spreading the narrow lines of his Fu Manchu moustache.

Jennifer relaxed. "Don Espe?osa. You startled me."

It was the truth. Not needing sleep, Jennifer had been deep in meditation, but not so deep that she shouldn’t have heard him enter her room and sit down.

"My apologies. I thought you'd be up by now. It's a beautiful morning. I came up to invite you to breakfast. There is someone I would very much like for you to meet."

Jennifer let her gaze wander out the window to the gardens that dominated the north side of the drug lord's estate. "Will we be eating down on the patio?"

"Precisely."

Jennifer smiled. "Sounds lovely. Give me twenty minutes."

Don Espe?osa rose from the chair. "Twenty minutes then."

As the don closed the door behind him, Jennifer made her way to the shower, discarding pajamas as she went. Standing under the pounding water, she thought about who she would be meeting. Clearly it was someone the don thought important. His voice had held a hint of uncharacteristic eagerness.

This thought gave her pause. By reputation and from her limited dealings with the man, she knew that Jorge Espe?osa had few attachments. He had no wife or children. His only brother had been killed in a battle with Colombian government troops thirteen years ago. His paranoia and distrust of others had led him to create a security structure composed of independent cells, each constantly checking on the others, each cell leader reporting directly to the don.

But within that paranoid mind, Jennifer had found a deep loneliness. Ironically, it was by manipulating both the loneliness and paranoia that she had gained such rapid acceptance into his inner circle, something that had produced a great outcry of distrust from his other advisors. And although Jorge Espe?osa listened to their concerns, he ignored them.

For her part, Jennifer had moved rapidly to prove herself worthy of his trust. Don Espe?osa had set her up with the finest high-speed network money could buy, through which she had immediately begun a scan of all of the cartel accounts. Within hours, she had identified twenty-seven different transaction traces, some initiated by the US government, some by the Colombian government, some from other cartels.

By the end of the first day, she had not only cleansed the suspect transactions, she had hacked her way back through the computer networks conducting the trace, eliminating each record trail at the source.

And as Jennifer worked, the Espe?osa Cartel's top computer experts watched her, stunned by what they were seeing. Her delicate fingers worked the keyboards that surrounded her workstation so rapidly, they found themselves unable to follow what she was doing. But they knew she was breaching the toughest computer firewalls as easily as a husband brushed aside a wedding veil.

By her third day in her new job, cartel operatives began receiving reports that the US Internal Revenue Service and Drug Enforcement Agency were in a panic about the worst cybernetic attack in history. Although the full extent of damage to their computer archives was being kept secret, rumor had it that data critical to several ongoing investigations had been completely destroyed. Even worse, their effort to restore the data from off-site archives was being circumvented by an aggressive new type of computer virus.

Jorge Espe?osa was so thrilled that he had asked her to implement a new computer tracking and security program for all cartel accounts.

Jennifer finished dressing, selecting a pink cotton blouse to go with her white cargo pants and sandals. Then, with one more glance in the mirror, she made her way down to breakfast.

The north patio dining area was the most beautiful spot on the entire estate. In the midst of flower gardens rivaling those she had seen on a family trip to Lake Chiemsee in Bavaria, several outdoor tables protected by colorful umbrellas provided an atmosphere so inviting that Jennifer often found herself lingering over her meal, reluctant to finish.

This morning several of the tables had been set with trays of fresh fruit, hot pastries, and a large assortment of cold cuts, breads, and cheeses. Don Espe?osa sat alone at a table set for three. Seeing Jennifer, he arose from his seat.

"Come. Let's fill our plates. I'm afraid my other guest will be a bit late."