Wired Rogue Page 3

  The alarm system activating was a shrill throbbing electronic tone that demanded a response. After the apartment was breached six months ago, Sophie’d had it tied straight into the building’s security. Now, if she didn’t deactivate it, police would be on their way.

  Sophie groaned and threw on her sleep tee, walking with an effort to the panel by the front door. She deactivated the alarm.

  “Sophie! Open up right now or I’m breaking in!”

  Marcella. Her friend’s voice was loud but muffled by the solid door. She might have known Marcella would persist. Sophie opened the door. “I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re not.” Marcella’s cheeks were flushed with the effort of pounding on the front door to the point that the alarm was triggered. Wisps of sleek, chocolate-brown hair had escaped from the chignon she’d nicknamed the FBI Twist. There was no hiding her gorgeous, curvy figure, but Marcella played it down in a plain white blouse and gray slacks. “You look like hell. When did you eat last?”

  Sophie shrugged and let go of the doorframe. Marcella followed her in as Sophie pressed the intercom button on the blinking alarm panel. “This is Sophie Ang.” She spoke the all-clear code and let go of the button. “Marcella, I know you mean well. But please. Leave me alone.”

  “Of course not. Clearly you don’t know what friends are for.” Marcella set her hands on her hips. “What the hell did you quit for? You’re going to win this DAVID thing. You need to stay in the fight and stick to your guns!”

  Sophie turned and walked away. She flopped face down on her bed.

  “Sophie, I’m fixing you something to eat. Go get in the shower. You smell disgusting.” Marcella headed for the kitchen. “Get to it, or I’ll call Marcus to come over and help me put you in the shower whether you like it or not.”

  Marcus Kamuela. Marcella’s intimidating Hawaiian HPD detective fiancé tolerated Sophie for Marcella’s sake, but they weren’t friends. The thought of that burly man hauling her by the scruff of the neck to the shower was humiliating, and Marcella would follow through on that kind of threat. Sophie was too depressed to be embarrassed, but that next phase of shame wasn’t far off—she could smell a whiff of it like smoke in the air.

  She got to her feet, shuffling to the bathroom. She could hear Marcella talking on the phone in the kitchen, probably discussing her with Lei Texeira, their mutual friend. Sophie groaned aloud. “Daughter of a stillborn water buffalo!” Cursing in Thai just didn’t feel satisfying enough so she tried a string of English cusswords.

  Those didn’t work either.

  Sophie turned on the water. She avoided looking in the mirror. She’d just see her skin gone sallow, purple circles under her eyes, her cheekbones jutting.

  At least her cropped hair was too short to give her any trouble.

  Under the flow of water, the smell of coconut soap brought her beautiful mother Pim Wat Smithson back. This was the cycle that her mother went through. Sophie had her to thank for this ‘sickness of the soul’ as her father called it.

  Mama had been depressed as long as Sophie could remember: withdrawn, lethargic, prone to tears, and unresponsive to her daughter’s needs, with rare times when she came out from beneath the disease to bloom like a flower. To reach adulthood and fall prey to the same affliction Sophie had struggled against with her parent felt like one more rock in the bag of them around her neck.

  Marcella opened the door, letting steam out. “Hurry up in there. Food is almost ready.”

  The door shut with a bang.

  “Ugly sister of a poxy whore.”

  “I heard that!” Marcella bellowed from the kitchen. “And I can’t understand it, but I know it’s not nice. I’ll kick your ass in the ring, ’cause that’s where we’re going next.”

  Sophie snapped off the water and shook the extra water off her hair. Her brain sloshed in her skull with the abrupt head movement. She just needed to comply long enough to get Marcella off her back and then she could go back to bed.

  Several hours later, Marcella said goodbye and left Sophie at the building after a thorough trouncing at Fight Club, the gym where they both practiced MMA fighting. The Doggie Daycare had dropped Ginger off, and she waited at the security station. Heading back up to the apartment holding the dog’s leash, Sophie had to admit she felt better.

  She still had DAVID, even if the program was mothballed. She had friends. She had a dog that loved her. She just needed to beat the depression back enough to get ahead of it.

  The elevator doors opened.

  A tall, well-built, dark-haired man stood outside of her apartment, his hand raised to knock on the red lacquered door. He turned, raked her with a glance, and broke into a grin.

  “Sophie Ang? Just the woman I came to see.”

  Chapter Five

  Sophie examined the man’s ID, presented in the kind of leather cred wallet she’d once carried with the FBI. Jake Dunn, Extraction and Security Specialist, was six foot three inches, one hundred ninety-five pounds, with brown hair and blue eyes.

  Only his eyes weren’t really blue. They were gunmetal gray, with a blue ring around the iris, and quite arresting. Dunn wore black cargo pants and a tight ribbed tee that left little of his well-defined torso to the imagination. His belt was loaded with holstered weapons and he wore the kind of laced-up combat boots that meant business.

  The Security Solutions operative shifted from foot to foot in front of her. His ID photo didn’t capture the sense of crackling energy that surrounded him.

  Sophie took her time to examine his credentials and call them in to Security Solutions.

  “Satisfied? My boss, Todd Remarkian, sent me here to recruit you.” Dunn’s tone was impatient. “He said he had an offer for you as a tech agent, and a case he knew you’d be interested in. It’s on the Big Island.”

  Interest, flickering into life through the muffling deadness that surrounded Sophie, felt like the prickling of a frozen limb awakening to warmth.

  “Where on the Big Island?”

  “Waipio Valley. A cult. The Society of Light. I can’t tell you more until you sign the offer. Can we get out of this damn hallway and talk privately?”

  Sophie unlocked her apartment. “Wait here five minutes. I need to get cleaned up.” She wasn’t about to shower with this G.I. Joe action figure of a man sitting in her front room. Ginger was useless as a guard dog, already fawning over Dunn and rubbing herself lasciviously against the man’s leg.

  Sophie tweaked the dog’s leash, hauled her inside, and shut the door soundly. She heard a deep-voiced curse through the door as she headed for the bathroom.

  Sophie smiled. Beating Dunn in the ring, or on a computer, or perhaps at shooting—was going to be fun. She enjoyed besting testosterone-driven males.

  She took exactly five minutes to shower and change into a pair of yoga pants and a slim-fitting, ruby-red top. She opened the door. “Come in.”

  Dunn swept her with an assessing glance. “Todd didn’t tell me you were hot.”

  “I fail to see how that’s relevant.” Sophie’s neck heated with annoyance. “And if we’re ever going to work together you should keep those thoughts to yourself.” She sounded fussy and prim as she folded her arms over her chest.

  “Got a stick up your butt. I can dig it.” Dunn sat down on the low Danish-style couch, his thick legs sprawled, arms stretched out along the low back. “Nice place.”

  “My father’s. Where’s this contract? Unless you just came to waste my time with Neanderthal insults.”

  “Oh, when I insult you, you’ll know it.” Dunn unbuttoned one of the cargo pockets on his leg and extracted several folded pages. “Here.”

  Sophie took the papers and went to a nearby desk. She sat on the sleek chair, flicked on the lamp and began to read. Dunn got up and paced back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sitting clearly wasn’t something he did well, but he moved gracefully for such a big man. “Frickin’ awesome view. What does your father do?”

  So
phie didn’t take her eyes off the contract. Looked like a terrific package; the pay was close to twice what she’d earned as an agent. “Curb your language, foul-mouthed son of a yak.”

  “What language is that you’re speaking?” Dunn stopped in front of her, legs planted like tree trunks, arms crossed on his chest. Hawaiian tribal tattoos of interlocking triangles banded sinewy forearms. Dunn was clearly used to getting whatever he wanted with a minimum of time and effort. Women probably rolled over and spread their legs for him as easily as Ginger, currently lying on her back, wriggling in ecstasy as he scratched her belly with the toe of his boot. “You look ethnic. What kind of ethnic are you? Balinese? Black and Balinese?”

  He wasn’t far wrong. Sophie’s black and Thai heritage was usually hard to pinpoint. Perhaps Dunn was sharper than he first appeared. “What kind of ethnic? Who asks questions like that? Clearly you’re overdue for some sensitivity training.”

  Dunn tipped his head back and laughed. He had the kind of laugh that made babies giggle and female toes curl. Sophie tried not to smile as she looked down at the contract.

  “Okay. Good behavior starts now. I can take instruction.” Dunn spun and began his pacing again. “Todd said you’re one of the best operatives at tech he’s ever encountered. High praise from a man who helped start a security firm whose main product is an artificially intelligent home security system.”

  “Todd exaggerates.” Sophie reached the end of the contract. “This seems in order, but I’d like to speak to Mr. Remarkian myself before making any decisions.”

  “Fine. Dick around with it all you want. But don’t waste my time. Youwant in on this case? ’Cause I can’t talk to you about it without more, and actually I need your intel from the FBI recon before I go over to the Big Island.” Dunn sat back down, but she felt his presence and will pressing on her like a bulldozer blade.

  “I’m interested. But I’m not talking to you tonight about this. Or anything.” Sophie stood. “Thank you for bringing the contract by, Mr. Dunn.”

  Dunn stared at her for a long moment, then laughed again. “Hard to get, are you? I can dig that too.”

  Sophie kept her face blank with an effort—but she had years of hiding her emotions, thanks to Assan Ang.

  “I like you, Ang. I think we’ll get along fine.” Dunn strode to the door and pulled it open. “Your dog likes me. That oughta mean something. Here’s my number. Let me know what you decide.” He set a card on the shiny black lacquer table beside the front door and shut the door behind him.

  Sophie let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Dunn seemed to have sucked all the life out of the room and taken it with him. Ginger appeared to agree, as the dog sat and stared at the closed door, whining mournfully.

  Todd Remarkian answered her call on the second ring. “G’day, Sophie! Thought I might hear from you.” The Australian’s tone was upbeat, as usual. “I take it Get ’Er Dunn hit your doorstep.”

  Sophie snorted a laugh. “The man has the manners of a tank.”

  “Jake’s a diamond in the rough. So I take it you got the contract? Calling with questions?”

  “I want to know why you reached out to me with employment at this time.”

  Remarkian sounded surprised. “Security Solutions got this Waipio case, apparently on your referral. I thought it was high time I tried to steal you from the FBI.”

  “Oh.” No one but her immediate FBI team knew she’d quit the FBI. She smoothed the contract on the desk before her. “I’m not sure I’m ready to make a commitment as an employee. But I’d like to work this case. Can we work out a temporary contract to start?”

  “Sure. I’ll have Human Resources work up a private contractor contract. We do that all the time, actually.” A long pause. “So, Dunn is primary on this case. He has a number of useful skills, but he needs a partner, someone with communication and tech skills who can also work out in the field if need be. Think you can work with him? I know he’s a little crude…”

  “I can handle him.” Sophie folded the contract decisively and slid it into the drawer of the desk. “Shall I come down to your office tomorrow to take care of the paperwork?”

  “What about the FBI?”

  “I resigned. Irreconcilable differences.” The trite phrase was all she planned to say to anyone about it.

  “Their loss is our gain.” Remarkian sounded delighted. “Meet me at nine a.m. at our downtown office. I’ll have the contract for you, and you and Dunn can plan the op.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks for thinking of me.” Sophie ended the call.

  The depression was back in its box, banished by Marcella and the whirlwind that was Dunn and this new job opportunity. Sophie sat down at her computers. She emailed the lawyer she had filing the patent on DAVID, asking for some kind of motion to keep the FBI from claiming it as work product and explaining what had happened. Could she sue for damages? She inquired.

  It was worth a try. And now it was time to see if the Ghost had checked their chatbox.

  He had.

  “I’m sorry to hear you won’t be chasing me anymore. I enjoyed our little games. You deserve to work for someone who appreciates your talents. Please don’t hesitate to contact me and let me know how I can help you. A word in the right ear could open doors.”

  Sophie wrote back. “Thanks, but it’s under control. Know anything about the Society of Light cult on the Big Island? About to figure out what life is like in the private security sector in a case involving children held against their mother’s will in a compound in the Waipio Valley.”

  She paused, fingers poised above the keyboard. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from this man.

  The Ghost was someone who killed—indirectly, through manipulation, it was true—but killed nonetheless, by using information he’d stolen to turn unsavory criminals against each other. She’d uncovered this using DAVID, and now that the program was shut down, there was no way to track if the Ghost was still up to his tricks.

  “Until next time, I’ll be adjusting to civilian life.”

  Sophie shut the chat window and got up. Time to organize herself for the first morning of the rest of her life.

  Todd Remarkian greeted her, walking forward for a brief hug. He smelled of sandalwood aftershave and the hair gel spiking his dark blond hair. His blue eyes were bright with pleasure to see her. “Sophie! You’re looking terrific.”

  “Thanks.” She’d got up early and put on makeup, which she seldom used—but something had to be done about the circles under her eyes. She’d dressed for the meeting in her standard FBI “uniform” of a crisp white button-down with a tank shirt underneath, stretchy black pants, and athletic shoes. The shoulder holster holding her Glock rubbed a little against her elbow through the gray blazer she wore to conceal it. “I’m excited to get those kids out of the Waipio Valley.”

  “Hey.” Jake Dunn had been leaning on Todd’s desk, and the man pushed off, striding forward to engulf her hand in his. “Glad you’re coming on board.”

  “Just a trial run.” Sophie addressed her comment to Remarkian. “Thanks for the opportunity. I have a vested interest in this case. I’m sure you heard from the children’s mother that my SAC pulled the case and punted it back to Hilo PD.”

  “Yeah. And they aren’t doing anything until the mother has a custody order. So what can you tell us about what we’re getting into?” Dunn was dressed for action as he’d been the previous day, and looked ready for action.

  Sophie took a step back to get more personal space. “I turned over all the video and surveillance to Hilo PD, but I can give you a verbal recap of the intel we collected.”

  “Before you get into all that, let’s dispense with the contract formalities. Jake, can you give us a moment in private?” Remarkian asked.

  “Sure. I’ll see you at my office, Ang, and we can get started planning the op.” Dunn lifted a hand and exited. Sophie was left with the sense of a dust devil passing, leaving a whirl of energy settling in its wake
.

  Todd’s eyes crinkled. “He’s a piece of work. But gets the job done, Dunn, as it were.”

  “Lots of puns to be had with his name,” Sophie said. “I’m sorry. I’m not quick with those. I’m bilingual, but didn’t move to the US until around five years ago. At least I can catch them now.”

  “You don’t need to be funny. You’re intelligent and talented, not to mention beautiful.” Todd’s voice was warm, and Sophie glanced at him. His expression was guileless and bland, his smile neutral. Sometimes she had the feeling he was interested in her in a romantic way, but he’d never asked her out beyond their shared interest in hike-running with their dogs. She wasn’t sure how she’d respond if he did make a move.

  “You had a contract for me to look over?”

  “Of course.” Remarkian handed it to her, mounted on a clipboard with a silver pen attached.

  Sophie sat on one of the chairs in his seating area, a fluid arc of poured wine-red plastic that was surprisingly comfortable. “Looks in order.” She was shocked at the high hourly pay, which she was to log and submit an invoice for. All expenses were covered, and additional “bodily hazard insurance” was offered. She initialed, accepting the insurance, and signed the paper. She handed it back to Remarkian.

  “Good.” He took the contract and walked around to his desk, another red poured plastic form which somehow looked right in the modern minimalist décor. The downtown Honolulu view made a tropical backdrop, framed by huge windows. “Now that this is in order, you can get started. I have an office assigned to you temporarily, next to Jake’s. Down a floor, and to the left. You two will be reporting to Kendall Bix, VP of Operations. I don’t usually work with individual service providers, but I wanted to grease the wheels to get you on this case as fast as possible.”

  “Thank you, Todd.” Sophie held the man’s gaze and spoke with sincerity. “This offer came at the perfect time.”

  “My close friends call me Connor. It’s my middle name. Glad we could find a way to make it work.” Remarkian’s tone was a little over-hearty, the Aussie accent broader than usual.