end, it all came down to what she could do — everything but make computers stand up and dance, and Kate was pretty sure she was working on that, as well — and if she was committed to the same goals that the other operatives were, which she most certainly was. Kate often thought B2S would do what Room 59 assigned her for free, since it combined the two things she was most passionate about — hacking, and making a difference in the world.
'That would be a refreshing change of pace. What have you got?'
'Your mystery woman's name, record, basically everything I could find on her, which wasn't much. I'm posting it to you now.'
Kate bolted upright, her weariness forgotten over this revelation. 'B, if you were here, I'd kiss you, and never mind what anyone else would say about it.'
'A simple thank-you will suffice. It's pretty standard stuff, but it was hidden mega deep. Either she's been very good at living off the grid, or she's done a fantastic job of erasing her tracks.'
'Most likely the latter.' A locked folder popped up on Kate's monitor, and she unlocked it and spread out the virtual pages. 'Margaret Britaine, eh? You're right about not much being here — shuttled around foster homes for much of her childhood…reunited with her brother at age twelve. They've been close ever since. Awarded a full scholarship to MIT when she was sixteen, dropped out three months before graduation, then nothing for the past eleven years — until this.'
'Yup. I can do some snooping around on some sites I know, see if anyone knows anything.'
'Pursue anything that would help us get a lead on what she's been up to in the last decade — besides getting people killed all around her. I'm going to take a close look at what you found here and see if anything pops up. Great work, B.'
'As always. I'll text you if I get a line on anything solid.'
'Sounds good. Primary out.' Kate took a minute to get up and stretch her cramped muscles, working out the kinks and tension from the past several hours in the chair. Walking to the minifridge, she removed a diet ginger ale from inside, glanced longingly at the tiny bottle of Jack Daniel's on the door and shook her head, popping the soda open and pouring it into a glass before returning to her chair and sitting back down and slipping her VR glasses back on.
'All right, Ms. Britaine, let's see who you really are.'
35
Maggie walked out of what passed for a small strip mall in rural France, a row of shops designed to ensnare tourists that also carried enough items to serve her purposes, as well. Quick visits to a clothing store, then a grocery with a bathroom allowed her to alter her appearance yet again, leaving the old clothes in the trash and changing into comfortable jeans, a black blouse and tennis shoes. Pulling her hair back from her face, she secured it with a spiraled blue headband with a small butterfly on it. Using a bit of foundation to mask the dark circles under her eyes, she examined herself in the mirror.
Not bad. I could pass as a young mother on vacation, or a rich girl slumming across France with my boyfriend — maybe. She knew she had a problem, though. What was she to do with David? She certainly couldn't take him to Brussels. Leaving him here was good enough. He could get the medical attention he no doubt needed, and those other guys had to be well off their trail by now; otherwise they would have tried something already while she was stopped. Yeah, best to break this off sooner rather than later, before he tries to figure out a way to mess up my next rendezvous.
Making sure the clothes were hidden deep in the covered wastebasket, Maggie shouldered her laptop and walked out of the bathroom. Leaving the store, she slipped on a large pair of sunglasses that covered her eyes and then some as she headed for the car.
She caught David staring as she got in. 'Yes?'
'Nothing, just — you clean up well.'
She tossed him the extralarge light gray pullover sweatshirt, with the word Provence embroidered across the front in large blue-and-plaid letters, that she had purchased in the clothing store.
'This is certainly inconspicuous,' he said.
'It fits with our new disguise of a tourist couple driving across France. I couldn't find a zip-up, sorry.' Another white lie, but Maggie had told so many in the past hour, she was sure another wouldn't matter.
He gave her an odd look. 'Couple, eh? I think you got the better wardrobe.'
'But of course.' She watched as he tried to maneuver into the garment in the cramped space. 'Why don't you just step outside and slip it on? I won't go anywhere, I promise.'
He nodded. Opening the door, he levered himself out with difficulty, holding the sweatshirt with his good arm. Leaving the door ajar, he began working his way into the sweatshirt.
As soon as his face disappeared into the shirt, Maggie shifted the car into gear and pulled away, careful not to hit him. Fifty feet away, she stopped, reached over and pulled the passenger's door closed, then sped away, trying not to look into the rearview mirror but unable to help herself. She saw David standing there in the parking lot, staring after her.
It's for his own good, she told herself as she found the on-ramp to the highway and took it, making sure she was headed to Brussels.
Dividing her attention between her mirrors and the speedometer, Maggie accelerated to seventy miles per hour and drove, enjoying the fact that she wasn't under anyone's thumb for the moment. It was tempting to just keep driving, to bypass Brussels and head into Germany, or Switzerland, or anywhere else, to get away from all of this violence and killing. With a weary sigh, she banished the daydream and concentrated on the task ahead of her. There was still a way to go, and there was also the matter of payment. Aragorn wasn't going to be thrilled that she couldn't give him his cut right away. But she could lead him on with a promise of riches to come once she had delivered her package. It might mean a slight renegotiation again, but for the amount she planned to make those bastards at Mercury pay, she could cut the hacker in and still have plenty left over for a long, long vacation.
The miles rolled by under the Peugeot's humming wheels, and before Maggie knew it she was nearing Brussels. Pulling off at a rest stop on the side of the road, she fired up her laptop again, and called Aragorn.
'Hello, lass. Where are you?'
'I'm about ten minutes from the city, and I wanted the directions sooner rather than later, so I can get an idea of where I'm going.'
'No problem. I'm sending them right now.' A moment later, a set of directions flashed on her computer. 'Follow those, and we should see you in about thirty minutes.'
'Thanks, Aragorn — I won't forget this. See you soon.'
'I'll be waiting for you.'
Maggie closed her laptop and pulled onto the road again, leaning forward in the leather seat in her eagerness to be among friends again, and out of reach of her pursuers once and for all.
36
David watched the silver car disappear into the distance, shaking his head. I should have known not to trust her, he thought. But even more, he was disappointed that he hadn't convinced her that he really could protect her, that the men after her at the hospital would keep trying until they had caught her once and for all.
With a sigh, he walked into the nearest store and asked, in halting French and flashing a twenty-Euro note, if he could use their phone.
'This is Primary, the lock word is 'alpine.''
'This is M-Two, the key word is 'evergreen.'' It was a risk using an unsecured line like this, but David had to report what had happened and get reinforcements after Maggie while there was still time. While he could have stolen a car and continued the chase, he was in no shape to do that, or face an unknown number of potential
