Chapter 1

Bree sat next to Alex Conway in the Blackhawk Security dining room, swirling pieces of pancake through the puddle of maple syrup on her plate.  She nudged the bacon out of the syrup, then chewed the pancake slowly, savoring every bite.

After living on MREs for too many years, she appreciated real food.

“Hey, Brynn, stop hogging the syrup and pass it over,” Cody Parker called from the other side of the table.

Bree took a deep breath, set her fork on her plate, then stared across the table at Parker.  He knew damn well what her name was, but Parker liked to tease.  To taunt.  And right here, in front of everyone, including the new recruits, he’d used that hated name.

Enough.

Pushing away from the table, she climbed up on her chair and scanned the dining room.  The chatter of conversation died away, until the room was silent.  Everyone was staring at her.  Good.  Maybe she’d finally straighten out these idiots.

“My name,” she said, making it a point to glance at everyone in the room, meeting each set of eyes, “is Bree.  B R E E.  Since none of you bought the farm on any of your assignments, I assume you’re intelligent men and women.  I know you know my name, because I’ve corrected every one of you, with a couple of notable exceptions, many times.  But you keep calling me Brynn.

“Brynn, short for Brenda.  That’s my birth name, but I’ve gone by Bree since I was old enough to have an opinion about my name.  Which was more than twenty years ago.

“Brenda was my grandmother’s name.  Wonderful woman, heart of gold, but I am not my grandmother.  I do not want to be called Brenda or Brynn.  And since none of you knuckleheads can seem to get that through your thick skulls, here’s the deal.

“From now on, if you call me Brynn, I’m not responding.  Not answering.  If you’re on fire and you yell, ‘Brynn, turn on the water?’   I’m walking right past you.”  She looked around the room, trying to meet everyone’s eyes.  “Clear?”

Several people laughed, including Cody Parker.  Her blood began to boil, but she tamped down the anger and said in a flat voice, “Okay.  If that’s the way you want to play it, fine with me.  You want to keep calling me Brynn, go ahead and do it.  Because I now have new names for all of you.”

She pointed at Cody Parker, who’d called her Brynn moments ago.  “Parker, your new name is Tiny Cock.”

“Not what my wife says,” Cody shot back.

Bree raised one eyebrow.  “Really?  She’s the one who suggested that name for you.”

Laughter and hoots came from everyone else in the room, and Cody sank down in his chair, his face red.

Bree looked around the room.  “Anyone else want to know their new name?”

Diego Lopez called out, “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Bree jumped off the chair and stormed over to Diego.  “You have any idea how many times I’ve corrected your sorry ass and almost everyone else’s in here?  Too many times to count.  Didn’t do squat.  So now it’s my turn.  You want to know your new name, Diego?”

“Nope.  Nope, I do not.  Bree,” he said hastily.

She nodded at the former Delta Force operative.  “Thank you, Lopez.”

She looked around the room.  “Anyone else?”

The room was silent.  Finally, Nico Elliott, who was in from Seattle for a meeting, said, “I apologize, Bree.  We were stupid.  I don’t think any of us,” he glared around the room, “will call you Brynn again.  Anyone here disagree with me?”

The room went quiet enough to hear a pin drop.  Bree nodded.  “Thank you, Nico.”

She turned to leave the dining room, and Mel stood up from where she sat with Dev and followed her out of the room.  Once they were outside the building, Mel said, “Nice work, Bree.  Well done.”  She smiled as she shoved her hands into her pockets and walked faster to keep up with Bree.  “You’re a woman working with a bunch of men.  Glad to see you can stand up for yourself.”  She glanced at Bree out of the corner of her eye. You got a name for me?

“Yeah, I do,” Bree said, watching her boss from the corner of her eye .  It didn’t sound as if Mel was angry about the scene in the dining room.  But if she was?  Too bad.  Those idiots deserved to be raked over the coals.

“So what’s your name for me?” Mel asked.

“It’s Mel.  Mel, because you’ve always called me Bree, unlike the rest of those sorry fuckers.”

“Those sorry fuckers are your teammates,” Mel said, no condemnation in her voice.  “You have to work with them.”

“I can work with them.  As long as they call me Bree, I’m good.  If they want to be an ass like Parker, they get a new name.” 

“You know how Cody is,” Mel said, scrubbing her face with her hands.  “He likes to joke around.  Tease.”

“Yeah?  How would you feel if Parker called you Anneliese?  Or Annie?”

Mel stopped, scowling.  Turned to face her.  “I don’t know how you know my birth name, but I don’t use it here.”

“I did my research before I decided to come to work for you and Dev.  I dug up everything.  And I know you don’t go by Anneliese.”  She paused.  “Or Annie.”  One side of her mouth curled up.  “Only your sister Zoe calls you Annie.  And you’re trying to train that out of her.”

“So is Annie my new name?” Mel asked, scowling.

Bree shook her head.  “Nope.  You’ve always called me Bree, so your name is Mel.  I’ll never call you Anneliese or Annie.”

“I appreciate that,” Mel muttered.

Bree turned to head back to her apartment, but Mel put her hand on Bree’s arm.  “I was going to ask you to come to see me later.  I’m thinking about an assignment for you.  You want to talk about it now?”

Bree glanced at her boss.  She’d noticed the tiny twitch of Mel’s mouth when they’d discussed what had just happened.  She didn’t seem angry.  And she had an assignment.  Which was good.  She needed to get away from the compound.  It had been two weeks since she’d finished her last job, and she was getting twitchy.

“Absolutely.  Now’s good.” 

As they walked toward the office building, they talked about training and some new exercises Dev was considering adding.  Bree got the sense that Mel wanted her opinion.  She must have looked puzzled, because Mel nudged her shoulder.

“You think it’s odd that I’m asking you for input?  You’re the fittest agent we have,” Mel said.  “No one prepares more than you.  I’ve seen you take down Diego, and he’s no slouch.  He’s almost as good as you, but you made it look easy.”

Bree shrugged one shoulder.  “Got in the habit of keeping fit in the Marines.”  She swallowed.  “Needed it, with my job.  Never knew when I’d have to run like hell or take on a tango, one on one.  No backup.”

“That’s why I like to have your opinion about training.  After we talk about your new assignment, let’s work out in the gym.  I’ll show you what I’m thinking about.”

“That’d be great, Mel.”

Once they were in Mel’s office, she pulled a folder out of her file drawer and pushed it over to Bree.  “This is your new assignment.  Your principal is Jameson Ford.  He’s a PhD in computer engineering.  He writes programs for games and apps.  Right now, he’s working on an app.  And he’s…nervous.  Worried.”

Bree frowned.  “About an app?”

“This isn’t just a new game.  Or a new way to communicate with your friends.  This is something completely different.  It has applications for social and personal use, but there are also possibilities for use by the military.  Jameson didn’t tell me exactly what it does, but he’s concerned.  He’s had a couple of unsettling encounters that spooked him.  He’s copyrighted the app, and his patent application is in the final stages before approval.

“He’s been very close-lipped about it.  He has his own lab and has a number of computer engineers working for him.  I have the sense that he doesn’t completely trust any of them.  He definitely doesn’t trust anyone from another lab.”

“That sounds…ominous,” Bree said, staring at Mel.  “Disturbing.  What’s the big deal with this app?”

“Ford didn’t tell me, but I talked to Theo Graham, his PhD advisor.  Apparently, Ford used a precursor of this app as his thesis project.  His advisor said he’d never seen anything like it.  And Graham said, knowing Ford, that he’s refined it and improved it dramatically in the past few years.  According to his advisor, this app will be a game changer.  Graham told me, ‘Based on the app he used for his thesis, and knowing how Jameson Ford thinks, he’ll make billions of dollars from it.  And the sharks are already circling’.”

*  *  *

Jameson frowned at the lines of code on the screen, looking for the faulty bits.  He tipped back in his chair, staring at the screen, then twined his hands together behind his head, leaned back and closed his eyes, visualizing the code.

He had no idea how long he sat there, thinking, when he heard footsteps approaching his office.  Someone knocked, and Jameson opened his eyes and brought his chair upright.  Stu Rivers stood at the door, looking flustered.

“Come on in, Stu,” Jameson called.  He saved his work, shut down his computer and rolled his chair away from the desk.  “How’s it going?”

Rivers shook his head.  “Not good.  This damn program has a mind of its own and doesn’t want to fall into place for me.  You have a moment to take a look at it?”

“Sure,” Jameson said.  He stood up, grabbed the key to his door and locked it behind him.  Then he shoved the key into the front pocket of his jeans, sliding it beneath his wallet.

He stayed in Rivers’ office for about a half-hour, working backward with his colleague until they found the spot where Rivers had gone wrong.  Rivers sighed.  Bumped fists with Jameson.  “Thanks, man.  I think it was one of those deals where I’d looked at it too many times.  Needed a fresh set of eyes.”

“Probably so,” Jameson agreed.  “I do the same thing.”  He stood up and wheeled the chair back into the corner.  “Looks like you’ve got some good work done on that program,” he said.  “You apply for a copyright and patent yet?”

“Getting close,” Rivers said.  “I want to nail it down a little more before I fill out the forms.”

“Keep me posted.  And don’t hesitate to ask if you need help.  Those patent forms can be a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“We’ll contact our patent lawyers when you’re ready to file for the patent,” Jameson said.  “The copyright is more straightforward.”

“Gonna be a while yet,” Rivers said.  “But I’ll get there.”

Jameson gave him a thumbs up and headed back to his office.  He pulled out his phone and saw that it was almost seven p.m.  Time to head home.

He saved his work on his computer, then backed it up with two flash drives.  He disconnected the computer and put in into his battered briefcase and slid the flash drives in his pocket.  Then he plucked two hairs out of his scalp and slid them gently onto the top of two of the drawers in his desk.  His tells, to see if anyone had been in his office after he left.

He hated to suspect that one of the engineers who worked for him was snooping, but a few things had been off in his office over the last couple of weeks.  A picture of his sister’s kids wasn’t in the same place it had been the night before.  The dial on his wall safe was on a different number than the one it had been on when Jameson had left the office.  And he was pretty sure someone had followed him home one night last week when he’d worked late.

He hadn’t recognized the car.  It didn’t belong to any of the four engineers who worked for him.  But it had picked him up shortly after he exited the parking lot and stayed behind him until he drove into the alley behind his three-flat.

And then there had been the car that had run a red light and almost T-boned him.  He’d only managed to avoid it because he’d been paying attention and had quick reflexes.

Jameson closed his office door and locked it behind him, then stepped into the main area of the lab.  “I’m done for today,” he called.  “See you all tomorrow.”

Rivers gave him a thumbs up as he kept typing furiously.  McKay glanced at him and nodded.  Brogan and Lewandowski were both engrossed in their programs and managed a wave without looking.

As Jameson let his gaze drift over all of them, he wondered if one of his employees was responsible for the little blips he’d found in his office.  The four of them, and himself, were the only ones with keys.  And he’d emphasized to each of them, when he’d hired them, that they couldn’t share the keys with anyone else.  To guard them carefully.

He watched for another moment, but when everyone seemed engrossed in their own work, Jameson headed out the door and down to the parking lot.  Got into his car and kept glancing at his rear-view mirror.  No one followed him out of the lot.  It was early enough that he could see the cars behind him, and no one appeared to be following him.  But he didn’t really relax until he’d parked his car in the three-flat’s garage and walked up the three flights of stairs to his apartment.  After examining the locks carefully and finding no trace of tampering, he unlocked the door and stepped into his kitchen.

Once he checked the front door and was certain no one had messed with those locks, either, he dropped his briefcase onto the desk by the front windows.  The shades were still closed, and his little tells undisturbed.

He exhaled as he threw himself onto his couch.  When the hell was the security agent he’d hired going to arrive?

He needed to focus on his program.  Get the data that would speed up the patenting process.  But in the past week or two, he’d spent more time wondering if one of his employees was targeting him.

Or was the threat completely unrelated to his four engineers?  Was it coming from some other source?  He had no idea.  The only thing he was sure of?

In order to finish this program, he needed someone to watch his back.  Twenty-four seven.