had the feeling she was on the right track. When the cursor reached the point on the screen directly over her own heart, a small circle appeared around the arrow point. It took her by surprise, and she didn’t stop moving her hand in time to catch it on the first pass, but when she brought it back, the circle returned. Brin clicked the mouse button, and the initial chat room window she’d seen during her first visit to Room 59 appeared.
She waited a moment to see if anyone would make first contact, but the cursor blinked in the room, unanswered. Brin moved the cursor to the input window and typed.
“Is there anyone there? This is Brin Tempest.”
There was no answer. She thought about repeating her question, and then decided against it. She was wasting time. She dragged the cursor down to the point at the bottom of the screen where she knew the hidden entrance link was located, and when it appeared, she clicked it. She entered Alex’s en-crypted password and waited. She had been afraid it might be changed or locked out after they allowed her access the first time, but apparently they didn’t really want to keep her out. The password was accepted, and the secure window opened. Again, she was alone in a chat room, but she was in.
She repeated her message.
“Is there anyone there? This is Brin Tempest.”
She clicked on the send button, watched her message appear in the empty screen of the chat room and sat back to wait. It didn’t matter how long it took, she decided; she was going to remain logged in to the site until someone noticed. Every few moments she repeated her message to make sure the system didn’t lock her out for inactivity.
The blinking cursor continued to mock her, but her mind was set. This was her husband and her life and she wasn’t giving any of it up without a fight.
Denny stepped into the doorway of Kate’s virtual office and waited patiently for her to join him.
Finally she appeared and said, “Denny, you wanted to see me?”
“We’ve got a problem,” he said.
“You have no idea how tired I am of that statement,” she replied. There was no trace of a smile on her face. She had a folder open on her desk, and Denny knew it was the MRIS operation report.
“It’s part of the same problem, I think. Mrs.
Tempest has found her way back into the Room 59
chat. So far we’ve ignored her, but we’re going to have to figure out how to deal with this. She may have information we don’t have—Alex may have found a way to contact her. We need to make contact.”
“You warned her not to contact us,” Kate said.
“You ordered me not to change the access,”
Denny shot back.
Kate almost smiled. “I did, didn’t I? Get in there and see what she knows. If she’s heard he’s been captured, all hell could break loose, and we’ll need a plan for damage control. This one is already running way outside safety parameters.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Denny grunted.
“We’re on the verge of needing a total scrub, and with the initial threat still intact. I don’t want to have to send another asset out on this one. The risk of exposure is too great, even if the threat is nullified.”
“Yeah,” Kate said, turning back to her file, “it’s bad. Do what you can. Report back when she’s out of the system.”
Denny nodded, but Kate never saw it. She was already immersed in a copy of the plans for the MRIS complex in Beijing. Denny left her to the work, and returned to his own office and the console where he was currently logged in to Room 59.
He sat down and began to type.
When the words appeared on the screen, Brin nearly jumped out of her skin. She’d been sitting alone for nearly an hour. Every two minutes she’d reentered her message to keep the screen active.
She’d considered giving up but then the words appeared from nowhere.
“Hello, Brin.”
“Who is this?” she typed at last. “Is this the same person I spoke to before?”
“Yes, Mrs. Tempest, this is the same person.
You were warned not to return to this chat room.”
“Yes, and I was asked to contact my husband,”
she returned quickly, typing furiously. “How did you expect I would reach you with that information without coming here? I don’t have a business card for you, do I?”
There was nothing for a moment, then a new message popped up.
“Has Alex been in contact?” he asked.
“No,” Brin typed immediately. She decided that at this point she had no other allies in this, so there was no sense holding anything back. “He and I have a private, anonymous e-mail drop,” she typed, thinking quickly and trying to word the message as clearly as possible. “I’ve left dozens of messages for him, but there has been no response.
He usually doesn’t respond or leave messages there. We only created it for emergencies. I always thought he was at least checking it, but now I’m not sure.”
“I’m sure he checks it if he can,” he replied.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why couldn’t he? What kind of security job keeps you from being able to use a phone or check e-mail?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the nature of your husband’s work,” he typed. “There are security concerns, and I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you that lives could be at stake. One of those lives belongs to Alex. I’m not surprised he hasn’t contacted you.”
“Where is he?” Brin typed. She didn’t really expect an answer, and for a moment after she received one, she stared at it dumbly.
“All I can say is he’s operating in the Far East.
Even that is more than you should know.”
“The Far East?” She typed the words before she thought about it, then added, “Not the Middle East?”
There was a hesitation at the other end, and Brin’s anger bubbled over again. She slammed the computer desk for the second time that day and pushed away from the screen. Was anything she’d been told true? Had Alex lied to her about every aspect of his work, down to the location? If he’d been able to do that without giving himself away through guilt or tripping himself on a lie, how much else had he lied about? What kind of man had she married, and who was he? Really.
“Brin?” The word appeared on the screen and floated unanswered for a long moment, and she stared at it. Finally, whoever it was continued typing.
“I don’t know what Alex told you when he left—this time, or any other time. I assume he told you he was going to the Middle East and you are angry with him for lying. Let me tell you a few things very quickly that I do know about your husband that are important, and we’ll see where it leaves us.”
Brin slid no closer to the screen, but she watched.
“Alex Tempest is one of the good guys. He’s trained to a level that I suspect even you don’t understand, and the work he does is the sort that actually makes a difference in the world. I can’t tell you what that work is because there are overarch-ing issues involved that I can’t ignore. There are jobs that overshadow the men and women who accomplish them. What Alex has done, he has done because it was necessary to protect you from the danger he faces on a regular basis.
“I’m sure he’ll be home to you soon. I imagine at that point the two of you will have a lot to talk about. Right now, I’d say he needs you in ways he never has before, and I’d hate to see that clouded over by actions he meant as protection.”
Tears rolled down Brin’s cheeks, and she shook her head angrily. She knew this person, whoever he was, had to be right. If he was not, then the things that did matter, the love she and Alex shared, their life and dreams together, their time with Savannah—all of it would be a lie. She knew in her heart it was not, and so she had to find a way to get through this anger. She had to find and fight for her husband.
She slid back to the computer.
“Whoever you are—whatever you are—I know my husband is a good man. Right now, I want only one thing
