Out Of Time. Cliff Ryder

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was open.

      The office was empty, another odd fact. Hershel never left his door open, especially not when he was out of the office. Brin slipped inside and eased into a leather chair. She bit her lip and wondered if she’d have long to wait. Nothing about this day, or this meeting, was normal—why expect the normally punctual Rand to be the exception? She had just fixed her gaze on the skyline beyond the great window when her boss popped up from behind the desk, scaring her half to death.

      “God! You just about gave me a heart attack!” She laughed then, but there was little humor in it.

      “Sorry. I had some new equipment installed this morning and the cords keep tangling around my chair wheels.” He offered up a feeble smile, stood and crossed the room in quick strides. “Let’s get down to it, shall we?” He stuck his head out the door. “Elaine, turn on my voice mail and go get yourself a latte. Don’t come back until I call you.” He shut the door to his office firmly.

      Brin frowned. She had never known Elaine to leave her desk without someone to fill in, and she had never known Rand to let her. She studied his face as he slid back into his chair, rolled forward and regarded the plasma monitor set into the top of his desk. Whatever he saw there made him smile and he relaxed a bit.

      “Everything okay?” Her voice sounded weak, even to her.

      “Fine. Just making sure we’re really alone, if you know what I mean. Now, as I said, we have some research material coming in from China. You’ll be impressed—I guarantee it.”

      “All right. But why not have it sent electronically? We’ve got the best network security in the business.”

      “You don’t understand. This is huge. World-changing huge. I couldn’t risk having it sent electronically, no matter how impressive security is. It will be arriving late this afternoon, and after I review it, you’ll get a chance to have a go at it.”

      “What type of research is it?”

      “Sorry, Brin, not just yet. All I want you to do right now is clear your schedule. This project is going to be your number-one priority for a while anyway. And I have to insist that you not discuss this. Not with anyone on your team, not with Alex. No one. Do you understand?”

      She paused for a moment, the crease in her forehead deepening. This was so out of character for Rand that it scared her. “I understand. And I don’t discuss my work, except in the vaguest of terms, with anyone. I doubt they’d understand anyway. But my team—”

      “Is out of the loop on this one. Totally out. It’s you and me. I need your help on this one, but it has to be our secret,” Rand said.

      “Understood. I don’t have a problem with that, but any serious research is going to require assistance.”

      “I knew you’d understand. Once things get past the initial stages, we’ll find ways to compartmentalize the research. Now, I have another meeting. I’ll let you know when it arrives.” He gestured in the direction of the door, dismissing her. His face, which had shown traces of humor when he popped up from behind the desk, now lacked any humor at all. In fact, it seemed almost pressed in on itself, creased and tight with stress.

      Brin nodded slowly and made for the door. Whatever was going on was huge—that was certain. And it made her nervous as hell. It also irritated her that Rand was so nervous he’d called a meeting with her to not tell her what was going on. He could have had her meet him after whatever the big deal was arrived. Every move he’d made on this one was out of character. There was only one thing that would make her feel better—Alex. She only hoped that she wasn’t too late to catch him.

      Cell phones were prohibited inside the building. Not only did they lead to slacking off, but they also interfered with a lot of the equipment they used and could be a security risk. Brin made for the roof of D-wing. It was only five stories high and there was a small lounge out there for those people who liked to escape the sterile air of the lab. In that small area, the cell phone dead zone was lifted. She hurried out the door, smiling as five pairs of eyes met hers and looked askance of her.

      Alex’s cell phone was first on her speed dial, permanently recorded in every contact log she had. “Alex,” she said quickly and the phone dialed. There was a dead-air pause and then it rang. And rang. Suddenly, Brin felt as though she might cry. Her call was forwarded to voice mail and she stomped her foot, cursing her luck for having been too late.

      “I just wanted to call and let you know that I miss you already.” She swallowed hard, fighting back tears at the thought of how empty the house would be that night. “I love you.”

      She slapped the phone shut and sighed, staring at the clouds for a moment before she shuffled through the door, back into the carefully sterilized and conditioned air. Now she wished that research would hurry up and arrive. At least then, she would have something to focus on other than Alex’s absence.

      8

      Alex stepped out onto the tarmac and heaved a sigh of relief. It had been a long flight to Seoul and his back ached. He couldn’t be sure whether the pains and twitches were from exhaustion or a byproduct of the MS, and just that uncertainty alone was enough to keep his nerves on edge and disrupt his rhythm. He stretched, yawned and headed toward the south side of the airport. He’d arrived in a private Room 59 jet that traveled under a counterfeit corporate name. If someone checked, the phones would be answered, but the address was nothing more than an abandoned warehouse near the docks in New York.

      His contact in Seoul would provide his gear and take him into China. There was nothing like running around the fence to get to the barn to eat at a man’s nerves.

      About three hundred yards away from where the plane he’d come in on was parked, another plane waited. This one was smaller and not anywhere as close to being well-maintained. A small Asian man puttered about beneath it, checking the landing gear and whistling. Alex recognized him immediately as Yoo Jin-Ho, a contact he had used before in both Korea and Southeast Asia. Jin had the typical dark hair and eyes of his native Korea, and his skin was still ageless and smooth. It was a small relief to see a familiar face, but something was off and it took Alex a moment to place it.

      What was unrecognizable was the bright smile on Jin’s face. The last time Alex had seen him, he’d been beating the hell out of a South Vietnamese asset who’d turned double agent. Jin’s smile widened, and he climbed to his feet, wiping his hands on his gray coveralls and then extending one in a handshake.

      “Good to see you again, my friend. I trust you are well?”

      “Fine as frog’s hair. It’s good to see you, too, Jin,” Alex replied.

      Jin nodded. “Your jumper is in the plane with the rest of your things. We’re flying a load of televisions to Beijing today. I hope you are up to some heavy lifting.”

      “I’ll go change,” Alex said, “and check my gear.”

      He turned and marched up the short stairway into the plane. It was a small cargo plane and, judging from the smears of oil on each side, the engines had failed more than once. When not assisting the agents of Room 59, Jin ran a small freight service out of Seoul. He had a couple of planes, one other employee—his son—and a boatload of guts. Alex had liked him at first sight and he welcomed the opportunity to see the man again.

      His hands had begun to tremble, and he made a conscious effort to remember to keep them out of sight. Jin was no fool, and if he caught a СКАЧАТЬ