Simulated, p.8
Simulated, page 8
I set the postcard down and check K2. It’s been over an hour. I guess Coral Hacker doesn’t play by Harrison’s encrypted rules. Probably knows he’s being set up.
Harrison confirms he’s signing off, and I should too. But I don’t. Back in the day, the kids on my blog would use an old cyber SOS to send messages to hackers. It’s old school. But if this hacker is watching me, he’ll pick up on it. It won’t be laced with Harrison’s traps, but it’s worth a try.
I send out a simple encrypted beat. Reach me—it says under layers of code at three locations—my phone, a website for a restaurant I usually order from, and my university math department. This guy has tabs on me, and I need to know how he is doing it, where he is looking.
The minute I press send, an alert goes off and sends me flying into the back of my chair. That was fast.
A chat box from my old blog pops up. An anonymous messenger. My heart pumps straight into my throat, my words already laced with fire.
Before I click on the message, I begin an old school tracing method, but I’m caught like a little kid trying to sneak cookies. The message scrambles, too encrypted to trace. The signal bounces, as if he’s using tor nodes all over the world, and even passing through satellites, and is gone before I know it. Who is this dude? I shake my head, eyes wide with wonder.
I don’t know who I’m dealing with here, but it’s high time I found out. My finger hovers over the button about to click when a knock on the door sends me spinning around to face whoever is entering.
Dad opens the door finding me breathless. “Mind if I come in?”
I bite my lip, staring at the screen. I gently close the computer. I guess my chat will have to wait.
“Of course, Dad.”
Chapter 13
DAD ADJUSTS HIS cardigan and wanders in, taking a seat on my bed.
The worried wrinkles by his eyes and mouth have eased now and when he straightens his back and lifts his chin, a glimpse of my old dad returns.
He picks up the postcard and gives it a once over, then looks at me.
“I know the chances of a second kidnapping are extremely low,” he starts out. “But Tunisia is still very far away, and in a region with conflict. But I’ve talked with Ms. T and she assured me that you’ll be hosted in the most secure government lodging in Tunis. No hotels, no public transport at all. Ms. T and I made an agreement and she promised you will be guarded at all times.” He stops to swallow and breathe. I almost can’t believe my ears. He’s conceding. Thank God.
He draws in another large breath. “She’s hired bodyguards to watch the team and then there will be a separate one to guard you personally at all times—there are no exceptions, Jo. He’ll be with you night and day. Your only privacy will be in the bathroom.” He gives me a sympathetic glance. I smile back like it’s tough, thankful he doesn’t know I hardly had that in the Pratt. His idea of privacy and mine are completely different now. But I pretend, for his sake.
He continues, “I’ll expect morning and nightly check-ins by phone so I can hear your voice. If you agree to this, then you can go.”
“Morning and night check-ins by phone? Dad, are you serious?” I bite my tongue. It’s another one of those moments where I want to tell him I am not a normal teenager. To spell out everything I lived through, yet I can’t. I never want him to know. It’s better this way. And getting my family back was the greatest gift in my life.
“Help me through this, Jo.” His face tells me he can still pull that card. And I let him. I mouth the exact words as they come off his lips. “You realize that I lost my daughter once, right?”
I let out a long sigh.
“Just this once, until I see you can return without injury or abduction.”
Two daily calls and a 24/7 bodyguard. Who knows what the hacker has planned for me, but I doubt it can all be done in the bathroom. How will I ever be able to help Kai without my dad finding out?
Maybe I’m going about this all wrong. If my dad was Chan, I’d be bargaining with my best game face on. I look up at my dad. He’s peering at me full of hope and worry, and all I see is the man who could barely walk into the Chinese conference room, run over to me and not let go of me for three days. My gut sinks into my shoes.
“Dad,” I say as gentle and serious as I can, “I’ll do phone check-ins but only once a day. The time difference is hard enough as it is. And I need to work when I’m there. I’ll help you if you help me.”
“All right,” he agrees too quickly, as if he bargained high on purpose—and I lost. I forget he was once a brilliant CEO too. I inwardly groan that he got the best of me. “Now promise me you won’t do anything risky, and you’ll come back.”
A buzz ripples under my skin. I sneak over and wrap my arms around him. “I promise to do everything as safely as I can. I work for a very stable company now. With rules and regulations, remember?”
He hugs me back, releasing a breathy half-laugh. “What would your Mom say right now?” He sniffles a bit. “I’m glad she never had to live through your disappearance and at the same time I don’t think she’d want me to have such tight restrictions around you girls. She believed in each one of you. She’d help me let go and trust. Truth is, I know how capable you are and I’m really proud of you. Whatever it is you have to do, I’m sure you can do it.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I stay in his arms, resting on his chest. The same pine scent of his cologne stirs up childhood memories of safety and belonging. We talk for a few minutes and then finally he tells me he’s off to bed.
After he leaves, I rub my tired eyes but still open my computer and click on the message. There’s a number written out with the country code for Iceland. Frenzied equations pop inside me like little fireworks. But I pick up my phone and push each number.
Not even a full ring before the line opens. “You reached out?” Coral Hacker’s robotic voice just like in the sims, steady and even. My whole body quivers.
“So, you are watching,” I say. “Who are you?”
“We have more important things to discuss.”
“Like how you stole the Blacklist?”
A scoff. “That wasn’t me. That was a double hack.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I’m angry and I want answers. “Where is it?”
“I warned you about PSS, like I did about your idiot boyfriend. You didn’t listen.” The robotic voice glitches.
My heart stings when he mentions Kai. “Is he alive?”
“For now. But the odds don’t look good.”
“How do you know about Kai? What else do you know about PSS?” I demand, the rough part of Phoenix resurfacing. I wish I had my numbers to back up my game.
“Listen, Josephine Rivers, I wouldn’t have called you at all if I thought there was another way. Unfortunately, you’re a little indispensable at the moment. You may not like it, but you need my help too. And despite what you just told your dad, you’re walking into a lion’s den. Are you sure you want to do that?”
My heart races as my gift starts firing in random directions. Amidst the chaos of jumbled numbers, I try to calculate what I’ve missed, even during this phone call and how he’s listening in on my conversations. My dad was right. This is dangerous.
“For Kai, absolutely,” I snap at him. Not to mention for PSS. We’re in this predicament because of me.
“That’s noble of you but your boyfriend’s not worth it.”
“What are you talking about?”
The robotic voice lowers an octave. “Do you even know why your boyfriend likes you?” He doesn’t ask like it’s a question.
“I can think of a few reasons,” I say. “Sounds like you have another one. So what is it?”
“He’s only attracted to one thing.”
“Ugh. He’s not that type of guy. You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“I don’t mean that. He’s attracted to danger. And you’re dangerous.”
I laugh out loud. “I’m a math nerd with a PhD in economics. And if you’re referring to China that was not my choice. I played the cards I was dealt.”
“No. You took risks you didn’t have to. Ran forward instead of away. That’s why he likes you. That’s why he calls you Trouble. And that’s also why he left after a month of you turning into a boring math nerd sitting in Seattle.”
The hacker’s words mess with my mind because I’ve asked myself why Kai left. But Kai has called me Trouble since I met him. And he does love trouble. But that’s not his reason for liking me. I’m letting this stranger—this hacker—get under my skin. He’s doing this on purpose. Driving a wedge between Kai and me. One I won’t allow.
“You don’t know me or him and that’s none of your business. Right now, all I want is the Blacklist file returned to PSS and information on how to help Kai. You either help me or not.”
He clears his throat. “Fine. Don’t use your PSS buddy’s trap again. Find me with your cyber SOS or on K2. Pack your sim glasses. I’ll be in touch when you arrive in Tunis.”
“Why should I trust you?” I ask.
“You shouldn’t. But if you do, I’ll help you get your gift back while you’re here.”
My breath catches and my heart pounds in my chest. He’s lured me with my gift before…he knows it’s irresistible bait. “Tell me who you are.”
“It’s all written in the stars, Jo.”
The audio goes dead—then it dawns on me. He messaged me through my old blog—the one place I didn’t put a signal.
Chapter 14
SEA-TAC INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT and I’m not done packing when Ms. T sends a message on K2. It’s a screen shot of plane reservations at 02:00 a.m. leaving from the private airport. A voice message from K2 follows, “Goliath Guard Services is outside waiting for you.”
I hold my watch to get a visual of a vehicle and a tall man standing outside it. I message back. “Be right out.”
My heart skips a beat when I think about leaving home. I’ve never forgotten the reason I’m alive—to live with purpose wherever I am, whatever I’m doing—but it doesn’t mean fear doesn’t show up and try to bully me. Thankfully, Red trained me to bully that liar back into its hole. Victory is often just across the threshold of fear, he used to say. And that is what I need to focus on right now. But Tunisia is more than just getting the list or stopping the hacker. It’s about Kai and my gift—the two things I need to move forward.
I throw a bunch of clothes, mostly long pants and loose shirts, into a bag. It’s a conservative country, and I need to dress accordingly. The Mandelbrot postcard is beside my bed. I pick it up and stuff it inside my bag as a reminder that my gift is still hanging on.
The house is quiet, and I already said goodbye to my sisters, but I promised to wake Dad before I leave. I tiptoe in and gently rock his shoulder. “Dad, they’re here.”
He squints at me groggily. “I’ll walk you out,” he croaks. He climbs out of bed yawning, throws on a sweatshirt and helps carry my bags outside where we find a giant dark-haired man who is at least 6’5, standing next to a black van. Goliath services indeed.
He tips his head to my dad. “Mr. Rivers.”
My dad and I both pause. An internal warning buzzes as memories of me walking to Madame’s boat come unbidden to my mind. But this time Ms. Taylor pops out of the passenger side of the van and I can breathe again.
“Jason,” she greets my dad kindly. “Jo is in good hands, I promise.”
“Thanks, Marigold.” My dad shakes her hand three times to make sure it is her. When did they get on a first name basis? It’s weird. Then he turns to my bodyguard. With a nervous smile, he shakes his hand, scrutinizing him. “Do you have children?”
“No, sir. None of my own.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m putting my daughter’s life into your hands. I trust you can handle that?”
“Yes, sir.”
As they stow my luggage in the van, Dad’s hands curl into nervous fists and he holds his breath. My heart melts. Oh, Dad…what am I doing to you? I promised him I’d start a new life.
He draws me into a tight hug. “Don’t ever take your tracker-earrings out.” He whispers as he bends down. “If you miss a call, I’ll know something is wrong.”
“I won’t miss a call, Dad. Everything will be fine.” I point to my watch. “I’ve already programmed K2 to remind me. Thanks for letting me go. Love you.”
My dad is visibly shaking, but he straightens his face. “I love you too, Jo.” He lets go of me. “All right then, don’t get into trouble.”
I flinch at his choice of words and give him a weak thumbs-up, then hop into the van.
The car whirs to life and Ms. T picks up her phone to alert the pilot we’re on our way. Goliath leans over to speak with me.
“No harm will come to you under my watch,” he promises. “You will never leave my sight. Your goals will be my goals, and my life will be at your disposal.”
Wow. Hardcore. “Thanks,” I say. “So, what’s your name?”
“Goliath is fine,” he says with a straight face.
“Is that a company policy?” I ask. “Or personal choice?”
“Sorry, Miss Rivers. I don’t answer personal questions.”
“O-kay.” I nod, not sure what to make of my new bodyguard. My numbers could have figured out this guy in ten seconds. Without them, I want to judge his coldness and his refusal to open up but then I smirk. You used to be fun like this, remember? Phoenix—the girl fresh out of the Pratt—said a similar thing to Chan not so long ago after she punched him. My past has come back to bite me in the rear.
Chapter 15
INTERNATIONAL AIRSPACE, ATLANTIC OCEAN, NORTH AFRICA
DAWN SPREADS OUT like a lavender field across a sky spotted with pink clouds. Even though it’s gorgeous, my adrenaline has worn off and I can’t stop yawning. The private jet will land in Tunis in a few hours. Everyone else is asleep except for our three bodyguards, Pens and me. The bags under my eyes feel deep enough to fit my old calculus textbooks inside.
As I stare into the sky, thoughts of Kai and the Coral Hacker dominate my thoughts. I try to focus on the coastline, but there are too many clouds and I keep drifting to Kai’s face after his last mission. The bruises and black eyes. I can’t imagine how much worse he might look now, given that his biotag is dead. What did they do to him to make that happen? I don’t even want to think about it. I hope he’s ok.
Pens planned on sleeping during the flight and took some Dramamine, but it had an opposite effect on her. She’s talked my ear off for hours now.
Flipping another page in the Tunisia Tourist magazine Pens hums, “After we catch the creepy old hacker, and get the Blacklist—which we will—I’m hitting the streets of North Africa, baby. I want to inhale spices of all colors, eavesdrop on Arabic conversation, shop in the souks—that means ‘markets’—and eat all the things…Ooh, yum…Couscous. Lamb kebab. Have you ever eaten Chicken Tagine?”
“Um, nope.” I frown at her. “Pens. We’ve got a job to do. Most of our time is going to be spent locked in government buildings. And there’s no telling what will happen if we can’t get the Blacklist file.” But I’ve never actually been on a PSS field job before. “Am I wrong?”
“Jo, we always do our job. But we’re not undercover agents or slaves. We’re hired professionals, working quietly. When we go abroad, we always leave room for sight-seeing. Chances are, nothing will happen with them around.” She rocks her head to the left.
My bodyguard seated on the other side of me, ever vigilant, moves ever so slightly at Pens’ comment. He’s listened to everything we’ve said during the flight. I couldn’t even use the jet bathroom without him standing outside the door the whole time. His subtle glances at me every few minutes are getting really annoying.
He’s facing straight ahead but his ear is clearly attuned to every word I utter. I turn, obvious now, openly examining him. His dark brown hair and well-aged tan skin put him around 35-40 years old. He’s inconspicuously dressed. He’s very tall but he’ll totally blend in where we’re headed—that’s the point. If I glanced at him on the street, I wouldn’t have pinned him as a bodyguard. But when you take a closer look, you can tell he is, in his own way, calculating everything. Even without numbers, I know he’s ready to strike at any moment. It makes me shiver.
I remind myself the only fights we engage in at PSS are on a keyboard.
I lean over to him now, definitely in his bubble, and whisper in a deadpan voice. “How many ways do you know how to kill a man?” I want to see how much he’ll take from me. So far, he won’t have any of it.
“That’s classified,” he says, not even the slightest break in his expression.
Hmm. “Any tattoos?” I lean in, scrutinizing his arms.
“No.”
“Are you going to put a tracker in me as soon as I doze off?” I squint at him.
“No.”
“Do you have a weakness?” I ask, eyeing his bicep.
“No.”
“Are you ever going to sleep?” My lips scrunch up to one side, an eyebrow cocked.
“Not while you’re awake.” The straight lines of his lips don’t budge.
I roll my eyes. “Fun, great for you. Wake me up when we get there.”
Doing anything with this giant ball of sunshine next to me is not going to be easy.
I lean on the cold plane window wondering if I should try to sleep. The clouds part, and few morning stars still twinkle. The hacker’s words swirl in my mind. It’s all written in the stars, Jo. Maybe it’s a cypher or an equation he thinks I should know. PSS will figure it out—if I tell them.
I look over at the rest of the team. Everyone is asleep now. Even Pens finally dozed off. I grab my backpack and pull out the Mandelbrot Fractal postcard once again.
I remember the day I asked Mandel about his alias. “Why ‘Son of a Mandelbrot’?” I’d said, hoping he’d turn on his video.
“At first, it was because Benoit Mandelbrot studied Roughness and Chaos Theory and how he found order in them. My life felt rough and chaotic at the time, so that resonated…you know about my parents…” He breathed in. “Mandelbrot was also educated by his uncle. His uncle hated traditional education and made him play chess and study maps and explore things outside to learn. I’m convinced that’s why he was a genius. He saw math in ferns and Romanesque broccoli and coastlines and galaxies, and he taught us that fractals are just another way to see infinity...” He’d stopped. “Am I talking too much?”
Harrison confirms he’s signing off, and I should too. But I don’t. Back in the day, the kids on my blog would use an old cyber SOS to send messages to hackers. It’s old school. But if this hacker is watching me, he’ll pick up on it. It won’t be laced with Harrison’s traps, but it’s worth a try.
I send out a simple encrypted beat. Reach me—it says under layers of code at three locations—my phone, a website for a restaurant I usually order from, and my university math department. This guy has tabs on me, and I need to know how he is doing it, where he is looking.
The minute I press send, an alert goes off and sends me flying into the back of my chair. That was fast.
A chat box from my old blog pops up. An anonymous messenger. My heart pumps straight into my throat, my words already laced with fire.
Before I click on the message, I begin an old school tracing method, but I’m caught like a little kid trying to sneak cookies. The message scrambles, too encrypted to trace. The signal bounces, as if he’s using tor nodes all over the world, and even passing through satellites, and is gone before I know it. Who is this dude? I shake my head, eyes wide with wonder.
I don’t know who I’m dealing with here, but it’s high time I found out. My finger hovers over the button about to click when a knock on the door sends me spinning around to face whoever is entering.
Dad opens the door finding me breathless. “Mind if I come in?”
I bite my lip, staring at the screen. I gently close the computer. I guess my chat will have to wait.
“Of course, Dad.”
Chapter 13
DAD ADJUSTS HIS cardigan and wanders in, taking a seat on my bed.
The worried wrinkles by his eyes and mouth have eased now and when he straightens his back and lifts his chin, a glimpse of my old dad returns.
He picks up the postcard and gives it a once over, then looks at me.
“I know the chances of a second kidnapping are extremely low,” he starts out. “But Tunisia is still very far away, and in a region with conflict. But I’ve talked with Ms. T and she assured me that you’ll be hosted in the most secure government lodging in Tunis. No hotels, no public transport at all. Ms. T and I made an agreement and she promised you will be guarded at all times.” He stops to swallow and breathe. I almost can’t believe my ears. He’s conceding. Thank God.
He draws in another large breath. “She’s hired bodyguards to watch the team and then there will be a separate one to guard you personally at all times—there are no exceptions, Jo. He’ll be with you night and day. Your only privacy will be in the bathroom.” He gives me a sympathetic glance. I smile back like it’s tough, thankful he doesn’t know I hardly had that in the Pratt. His idea of privacy and mine are completely different now. But I pretend, for his sake.
He continues, “I’ll expect morning and nightly check-ins by phone so I can hear your voice. If you agree to this, then you can go.”
“Morning and night check-ins by phone? Dad, are you serious?” I bite my tongue. It’s another one of those moments where I want to tell him I am not a normal teenager. To spell out everything I lived through, yet I can’t. I never want him to know. It’s better this way. And getting my family back was the greatest gift in my life.
“Help me through this, Jo.” His face tells me he can still pull that card. And I let him. I mouth the exact words as they come off his lips. “You realize that I lost my daughter once, right?”
I let out a long sigh.
“Just this once, until I see you can return without injury or abduction.”
Two daily calls and a 24/7 bodyguard. Who knows what the hacker has planned for me, but I doubt it can all be done in the bathroom. How will I ever be able to help Kai without my dad finding out?
Maybe I’m going about this all wrong. If my dad was Chan, I’d be bargaining with my best game face on. I look up at my dad. He’s peering at me full of hope and worry, and all I see is the man who could barely walk into the Chinese conference room, run over to me and not let go of me for three days. My gut sinks into my shoes.
“Dad,” I say as gentle and serious as I can, “I’ll do phone check-ins but only once a day. The time difference is hard enough as it is. And I need to work when I’m there. I’ll help you if you help me.”
“All right,” he agrees too quickly, as if he bargained high on purpose—and I lost. I forget he was once a brilliant CEO too. I inwardly groan that he got the best of me. “Now promise me you won’t do anything risky, and you’ll come back.”
A buzz ripples under my skin. I sneak over and wrap my arms around him. “I promise to do everything as safely as I can. I work for a very stable company now. With rules and regulations, remember?”
He hugs me back, releasing a breathy half-laugh. “What would your Mom say right now?” He sniffles a bit. “I’m glad she never had to live through your disappearance and at the same time I don’t think she’d want me to have such tight restrictions around you girls. She believed in each one of you. She’d help me let go and trust. Truth is, I know how capable you are and I’m really proud of you. Whatever it is you have to do, I’m sure you can do it.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I stay in his arms, resting on his chest. The same pine scent of his cologne stirs up childhood memories of safety and belonging. We talk for a few minutes and then finally he tells me he’s off to bed.
After he leaves, I rub my tired eyes but still open my computer and click on the message. There’s a number written out with the country code for Iceland. Frenzied equations pop inside me like little fireworks. But I pick up my phone and push each number.
Not even a full ring before the line opens. “You reached out?” Coral Hacker’s robotic voice just like in the sims, steady and even. My whole body quivers.
“So, you are watching,” I say. “Who are you?”
“We have more important things to discuss.”
“Like how you stole the Blacklist?”
A scoff. “That wasn’t me. That was a double hack.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I’m angry and I want answers. “Where is it?”
“I warned you about PSS, like I did about your idiot boyfriend. You didn’t listen.” The robotic voice glitches.
My heart stings when he mentions Kai. “Is he alive?”
“For now. But the odds don’t look good.”
“How do you know about Kai? What else do you know about PSS?” I demand, the rough part of Phoenix resurfacing. I wish I had my numbers to back up my game.
“Listen, Josephine Rivers, I wouldn’t have called you at all if I thought there was another way. Unfortunately, you’re a little indispensable at the moment. You may not like it, but you need my help too. And despite what you just told your dad, you’re walking into a lion’s den. Are you sure you want to do that?”
My heart races as my gift starts firing in random directions. Amidst the chaos of jumbled numbers, I try to calculate what I’ve missed, even during this phone call and how he’s listening in on my conversations. My dad was right. This is dangerous.
“For Kai, absolutely,” I snap at him. Not to mention for PSS. We’re in this predicament because of me.
“That’s noble of you but your boyfriend’s not worth it.”
“What are you talking about?”
The robotic voice lowers an octave. “Do you even know why your boyfriend likes you?” He doesn’t ask like it’s a question.
“I can think of a few reasons,” I say. “Sounds like you have another one. So what is it?”
“He’s only attracted to one thing.”
“Ugh. He’s not that type of guy. You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“I don’t mean that. He’s attracted to danger. And you’re dangerous.”
I laugh out loud. “I’m a math nerd with a PhD in economics. And if you’re referring to China that was not my choice. I played the cards I was dealt.”
“No. You took risks you didn’t have to. Ran forward instead of away. That’s why he likes you. That’s why he calls you Trouble. And that’s also why he left after a month of you turning into a boring math nerd sitting in Seattle.”
The hacker’s words mess with my mind because I’ve asked myself why Kai left. But Kai has called me Trouble since I met him. And he does love trouble. But that’s not his reason for liking me. I’m letting this stranger—this hacker—get under my skin. He’s doing this on purpose. Driving a wedge between Kai and me. One I won’t allow.
“You don’t know me or him and that’s none of your business. Right now, all I want is the Blacklist file returned to PSS and information on how to help Kai. You either help me or not.”
He clears his throat. “Fine. Don’t use your PSS buddy’s trap again. Find me with your cyber SOS or on K2. Pack your sim glasses. I’ll be in touch when you arrive in Tunis.”
“Why should I trust you?” I ask.
“You shouldn’t. But if you do, I’ll help you get your gift back while you’re here.”
My breath catches and my heart pounds in my chest. He’s lured me with my gift before…he knows it’s irresistible bait. “Tell me who you are.”
“It’s all written in the stars, Jo.”
The audio goes dead—then it dawns on me. He messaged me through my old blog—the one place I didn’t put a signal.
Chapter 14
SEA-TAC INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT and I’m not done packing when Ms. T sends a message on K2. It’s a screen shot of plane reservations at 02:00 a.m. leaving from the private airport. A voice message from K2 follows, “Goliath Guard Services is outside waiting for you.”
I hold my watch to get a visual of a vehicle and a tall man standing outside it. I message back. “Be right out.”
My heart skips a beat when I think about leaving home. I’ve never forgotten the reason I’m alive—to live with purpose wherever I am, whatever I’m doing—but it doesn’t mean fear doesn’t show up and try to bully me. Thankfully, Red trained me to bully that liar back into its hole. Victory is often just across the threshold of fear, he used to say. And that is what I need to focus on right now. But Tunisia is more than just getting the list or stopping the hacker. It’s about Kai and my gift—the two things I need to move forward.
I throw a bunch of clothes, mostly long pants and loose shirts, into a bag. It’s a conservative country, and I need to dress accordingly. The Mandelbrot postcard is beside my bed. I pick it up and stuff it inside my bag as a reminder that my gift is still hanging on.
The house is quiet, and I already said goodbye to my sisters, but I promised to wake Dad before I leave. I tiptoe in and gently rock his shoulder. “Dad, they’re here.”
He squints at me groggily. “I’ll walk you out,” he croaks. He climbs out of bed yawning, throws on a sweatshirt and helps carry my bags outside where we find a giant dark-haired man who is at least 6’5, standing next to a black van. Goliath services indeed.
He tips his head to my dad. “Mr. Rivers.”
My dad and I both pause. An internal warning buzzes as memories of me walking to Madame’s boat come unbidden to my mind. But this time Ms. Taylor pops out of the passenger side of the van and I can breathe again.
“Jason,” she greets my dad kindly. “Jo is in good hands, I promise.”
“Thanks, Marigold.” My dad shakes her hand three times to make sure it is her. When did they get on a first name basis? It’s weird. Then he turns to my bodyguard. With a nervous smile, he shakes his hand, scrutinizing him. “Do you have children?”
“No, sir. None of my own.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m putting my daughter’s life into your hands. I trust you can handle that?”
“Yes, sir.”
As they stow my luggage in the van, Dad’s hands curl into nervous fists and he holds his breath. My heart melts. Oh, Dad…what am I doing to you? I promised him I’d start a new life.
He draws me into a tight hug. “Don’t ever take your tracker-earrings out.” He whispers as he bends down. “If you miss a call, I’ll know something is wrong.”
“I won’t miss a call, Dad. Everything will be fine.” I point to my watch. “I’ve already programmed K2 to remind me. Thanks for letting me go. Love you.”
My dad is visibly shaking, but he straightens his face. “I love you too, Jo.” He lets go of me. “All right then, don’t get into trouble.”
I flinch at his choice of words and give him a weak thumbs-up, then hop into the van.
The car whirs to life and Ms. T picks up her phone to alert the pilot we’re on our way. Goliath leans over to speak with me.
“No harm will come to you under my watch,” he promises. “You will never leave my sight. Your goals will be my goals, and my life will be at your disposal.”
Wow. Hardcore. “Thanks,” I say. “So, what’s your name?”
“Goliath is fine,” he says with a straight face.
“Is that a company policy?” I ask. “Or personal choice?”
“Sorry, Miss Rivers. I don’t answer personal questions.”
“O-kay.” I nod, not sure what to make of my new bodyguard. My numbers could have figured out this guy in ten seconds. Without them, I want to judge his coldness and his refusal to open up but then I smirk. You used to be fun like this, remember? Phoenix—the girl fresh out of the Pratt—said a similar thing to Chan not so long ago after she punched him. My past has come back to bite me in the rear.
Chapter 15
INTERNATIONAL AIRSPACE, ATLANTIC OCEAN, NORTH AFRICA
DAWN SPREADS OUT like a lavender field across a sky spotted with pink clouds. Even though it’s gorgeous, my adrenaline has worn off and I can’t stop yawning. The private jet will land in Tunis in a few hours. Everyone else is asleep except for our three bodyguards, Pens and me. The bags under my eyes feel deep enough to fit my old calculus textbooks inside.
As I stare into the sky, thoughts of Kai and the Coral Hacker dominate my thoughts. I try to focus on the coastline, but there are too many clouds and I keep drifting to Kai’s face after his last mission. The bruises and black eyes. I can’t imagine how much worse he might look now, given that his biotag is dead. What did they do to him to make that happen? I don’t even want to think about it. I hope he’s ok.
Pens planned on sleeping during the flight and took some Dramamine, but it had an opposite effect on her. She’s talked my ear off for hours now.
Flipping another page in the Tunisia Tourist magazine Pens hums, “After we catch the creepy old hacker, and get the Blacklist—which we will—I’m hitting the streets of North Africa, baby. I want to inhale spices of all colors, eavesdrop on Arabic conversation, shop in the souks—that means ‘markets’—and eat all the things…Ooh, yum…Couscous. Lamb kebab. Have you ever eaten Chicken Tagine?”
“Um, nope.” I frown at her. “Pens. We’ve got a job to do. Most of our time is going to be spent locked in government buildings. And there’s no telling what will happen if we can’t get the Blacklist file.” But I’ve never actually been on a PSS field job before. “Am I wrong?”
“Jo, we always do our job. But we’re not undercover agents or slaves. We’re hired professionals, working quietly. When we go abroad, we always leave room for sight-seeing. Chances are, nothing will happen with them around.” She rocks her head to the left.
My bodyguard seated on the other side of me, ever vigilant, moves ever so slightly at Pens’ comment. He’s listened to everything we’ve said during the flight. I couldn’t even use the jet bathroom without him standing outside the door the whole time. His subtle glances at me every few minutes are getting really annoying.
He’s facing straight ahead but his ear is clearly attuned to every word I utter. I turn, obvious now, openly examining him. His dark brown hair and well-aged tan skin put him around 35-40 years old. He’s inconspicuously dressed. He’s very tall but he’ll totally blend in where we’re headed—that’s the point. If I glanced at him on the street, I wouldn’t have pinned him as a bodyguard. But when you take a closer look, you can tell he is, in his own way, calculating everything. Even without numbers, I know he’s ready to strike at any moment. It makes me shiver.
I remind myself the only fights we engage in at PSS are on a keyboard.
I lean over to him now, definitely in his bubble, and whisper in a deadpan voice. “How many ways do you know how to kill a man?” I want to see how much he’ll take from me. So far, he won’t have any of it.
“That’s classified,” he says, not even the slightest break in his expression.
Hmm. “Any tattoos?” I lean in, scrutinizing his arms.
“No.”
“Are you going to put a tracker in me as soon as I doze off?” I squint at him.
“No.”
“Do you have a weakness?” I ask, eyeing his bicep.
“No.”
“Are you ever going to sleep?” My lips scrunch up to one side, an eyebrow cocked.
“Not while you’re awake.” The straight lines of his lips don’t budge.
I roll my eyes. “Fun, great for you. Wake me up when we get there.”
Doing anything with this giant ball of sunshine next to me is not going to be easy.
I lean on the cold plane window wondering if I should try to sleep. The clouds part, and few morning stars still twinkle. The hacker’s words swirl in my mind. It’s all written in the stars, Jo. Maybe it’s a cypher or an equation he thinks I should know. PSS will figure it out—if I tell them.
I look over at the rest of the team. Everyone is asleep now. Even Pens finally dozed off. I grab my backpack and pull out the Mandelbrot Fractal postcard once again.
I remember the day I asked Mandel about his alias. “Why ‘Son of a Mandelbrot’?” I’d said, hoping he’d turn on his video.
“At first, it was because Benoit Mandelbrot studied Roughness and Chaos Theory and how he found order in them. My life felt rough and chaotic at the time, so that resonated…you know about my parents…” He breathed in. “Mandelbrot was also educated by his uncle. His uncle hated traditional education and made him play chess and study maps and explore things outside to learn. I’m convinced that’s why he was a genius. He saw math in ferns and Romanesque broccoli and coastlines and galaxies, and he taught us that fractals are just another way to see infinity...” He’d stopped. “Am I talking too much?”
