A Father's Sacrifice (20 page)

Dylan followed her and leaned against the door frame. “What are you doing?”

She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant. “I’m keeping the system secure. If I don’t screen e-mails every hour or so, the sender could run a diagnostic and figure out that the e-mail and household accounts are on separate servers.”

“The sender. Tom.” He crossed his arms.

Natasha looked up and met his hot gaze. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.

His jaw clenched as he stood silent for a few beats. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly.

“I tried. That’s why I came to the clean room. But you were so excited about finishing the interface, and then—”

He stood there, dark and dangerously handsome, waiting for her to finish her sentence. “And then?”

“You were right,” she said miserably. “I got distracted.”

His gaze sharpened, bright as the sun’s reflection on polished steel. He pressed his crossed arms closer to his chest, making his biceps ripple.

“Yeah,” he said finally, tearing his gaze away from her and studying the toe of his shoe. “Me, too.”

She stared at him in surprise. He’d actually said it. She’d have figured he’d blame her for seducing him. But here he was, standing in front of her, admitting that making love with her had affected him, too.

“I wanted to lash out at you. I wanted everything that had happened to be your fault. But the truth is, it’s mine.”

“Your fault? How?”

He rubbed his cheek and chin. “I was daydreaming about you instead of working on Ben’s interface.”

She swallowed the flutter at the back of her throat. “But you finished it!”

“And Ben is gone.”

His anguish hit her, white-hot. “You can’t blame yourself for that. That’s not your fault. You couldn’t have foreseen what happened.”

“I should have kept him here. He’d have been safe here.”

“Dylan, the helicopter crashed into his play area. What if he’d been out there?”

His eyes registered shock and a pained sound escaped his lips. He crossed his arms again. “He’s never spent a night without me. He’s got to be terrified,” he said hoarsely, pain visible in his eyes.

She stood. “He’s got Charlene,” she said quietly.

He stared at the floor and shook his head. “We don’t know that.”

“She was taken, too. She’s there with him. I know it. I’m sure Tom doesn’t want to be bothered with a child. They’ll keep her to take care of him.”

“Dear God, I hope you’re right.” He uncrossed his arms and rubbed his eyes.

Natasha moved closer. She slipped her arms around his waist. “I am right,” she whispered as she pulled him closer.

After a brief hesitation, he hugged her, bending to press his cheek against hers. He sighed shakily.

She’d been afraid he’d rebuff her effort at comfort. But he clung to her like a drowning man to a life preserver. His breath warmed her neck and his lean strong arms encircled her, making her feel safe and loved—at least for one moment.

She hoped she could provide the same for him. She turned her head slightly, so her lips barely grazed his cheek.

The sound of a door opening startled them both. He let go of her so fast she nearly overbalanced.

It was Campbell, coming from the direction of the clean room.

She watched Dylan compose his features before turning. “Campbell. Where’ve you been?”

Campbell looked from one of them to the other, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“There’s been a helicopter crash. We’re locking down.”

“Helicopter?” Campbell looked confused and alarmed. “What do you mean,
crash?
”

“Just what I said. A helicopter came down right in Ben’s play area. Destroyed that part of the house.” Dylan’s unrelenting gaze pinned Campbell.

Did he suspect his computer expert of being the inside source? Natasha had considered him but she’d had to admit to herself that the only reason he seemed more suspicious than Charlen
e or Hector or Robby or one of the other guards was because he had access to the interface program.

Truth was, she didn’t have any evidence against anyone. As far as her feelings—she didn’t trust Hector, but Robby seemed like a stand-up guy. She had trouble believing that Charlene was smart enough or brave enough to do the things the traitor had done, but she couldn’t dismiss her. Campbell was probably the most likely candidate. Her problem was that she didn’t know all the security guards or the house staff. The traitor might be someone she hadn’t even met.

Campbell glanced around. “You’re going to lock down the lab?” His brown eyes registered panic. “I can’t stay down here.”

“You’re going to have to.”

“How long?” He was practically turning green. Natasha knew how he felt. But he’d been here for two years. He should have gotten used to working in the underground lab.

Dylan shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s up to Alfred.”

“Where’s he?”

“Taking care of the final details upstairs.”

“I’ve got to go up there. I need to call my mother.”

“You can call her from here.”

Campbell’s eyes showed white all the way around. “I’m going upstairs.”

Dylan laid a hand on Campbell’s arm. “You’re staying here,” he bit out.

Campbell’s eyelids fluttered and his throat worked as he met Dylan’s fiery blue gaze. Sweat gathered at his hairline. He shook his head but Dylan’s grip tightened. So he gave up.

“Okay,” he said shakily. “I hope you have some tranqs, Doc.”

Dylan let go of him. “I’ve got a few if you decide you can’t live without one.”

“Good.” Sweat rolled over Campbell’s forehead. He swiped a forearm across his face. “Is it hot in here?”

Dylan glanced at Natasha. She thought she saw a glimmer of amusement when he caught her eye. She suppressed a smile. At least she wasn’t as bad as Campbell, although she had a niggling suspicion that the bioengineer might be covering the real reason for his worry.

Had he sabotaged the lab? Was he panicking because he was afraid he’d get caught by whatever trap he’d set?

Mintz’s footsteps echoed from the back stairwell.

“You know where the water is. Why don’t you get a bottle,” Dylan said to Campbell.

He shook his head. “I want to hear what Mintz says.”

So did Natasha. She wasn’t quite sure what locking them in the underground lab would accomplish. It would protect them from an outside attack, but Natasha was more afraid of an assault on their computer programs, especially Dylan’s encrypted interface program.

Mintz walked down the hall, straight for the briefing room that adjoined the virtual surgery lab. He used his fingerprint and pass code to open a metal box hanging on the wall. As Natasha watched, he pulled levers and dialed in codes.

A metallic click echoed through the lab.
Lockdown.
They were locked in, twelve feet underground. A trickle of sweat ran down her back. Now she was starting to act like Campbell.

Mintz motioned to them through the glass walls.

“I’ll be right there,” she told Dylan. “I want to check the computer log first. Make sure we haven’t received any threatening messages.”

Dylan nodded at her and gestured to Campbell. He stepped through the door right behind him.

Natasha glanced at the error log. No new messages. No changed files. No alerts. She set the alert at maximum volume, then joined the others.

“—this whole area,” Mintz was saying as she entered and sat next to Dylan.

Mintz was holding a laser pointer and pointing to areas on a blueprint he’d tacked up onto the wall. A black marker border had been roughly drawn around the dining room, kitchen, play area and the section of wall that bordered the family quarters.

“We didn’t see any damage in the west hallway,” she commented.

“That’s because the steel reinforcement did its job. I’m guessing the inside south walls may be cracked or even crumbling, but they held up, just like they were supposed to.”

“How long will we be in lockdown, Alfred?” Dylan asked.

“I’m hoping a couple of days at the most. We have our landline and we’re hardwired into the Internet. We can stay in communication with the FBI, my guards and local law enforcement. By the way—” he turned to Dylan “—I’ve sent the guards and the rest of the staff home. They’re to check in every six hours with me.”

“How do you reverse the lockdown?” Campbell asked in a shaky voice.

Natasha looked up. She wanted to know the answer to that question, too. Her pulse sped up.

Mintz sent Campbell a hard look. “Only four people can engage or disengage lockdown. That includes Dylan, Agent Rudolph, myself and Robby.”

Campbell took a shaky breath. “So Robby can unlock the lab from above?”

Mintz shook his head. “Nope. This box is the only place the lockdown can be disengaged.”

“What if—what if something happens down here. What if you three are hurt, or—” He swallowed and licked his lips. “I’ll be trapped!” He stood, sending his chair rolling toward the wall.

“Calm down. Nobody’s going to be hurt. The basement is fortified against attack.”

Campbell wiped his face. “I’ve got to get out of here. I’m going to get that water.”

As soon as he left, Mintz raised his brows at Dylan.

“He seems to be claustrophobic.” He glanced at Natasha. “And paranoid.” He sent a thoughtful glance toward the door. “Has he got reason? Is Campbell Tom’s inside source?”

Chapter Eleven

Dylan blew his breath out in a harsh sigh. “I don’t know if Campbell is the inside source or not. I’m getting mixed signals from him.”

“Mixed how?” Mintz asked.

“I know what he means, sir,” Natasha put in. “He’s genuinely terrified, but is it claustrophobia, or something else? We have to consider that the next attack will be on the lab. And if Campbell is the hacker’s accomplice, there’s a chance he’s set a trap, and he’s panicking because he’s afraid he won’t be able to get out of here before the trap is sprung.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on him,” Mintz said.

“Alfred, are we okay on provisions?”

“We can support four people for twenty-eight days.”

Natasha’s stomach lurched. Her hands were clammy. She knew the fragile control she clung to was keeping her from acting just like Campbell. The ceiling felt as if it was straining with the weight of the dirt and metal above it. The rooms even seemed smaller.

Dylan stood. “I should keep practicing with the virtual surgery program. Let me know if anything happens.
Anything
.”

Mintz nodded.

A beeping sound reached Natasha’s ears.

Mintz and Dylan straightened, looking at each other.

“It’s the alert—on my computer.” She stood and headed for the door. “It’s the hacker.”

Mintz and Dylan followed her into her cubicle. She went straight to the computer and sat, studying the screen.

“He’s sent an e-mail to you, Dylan,” she said, as she quickly accessed the program that supported e-mail and instant messages for the household. The code scrolled slowly across the screen. She studied it, dreading what she would find.

There.
She hit Scroll Lock on the keyboard. She was looking at the code Tom had sent. It was a real e-mail, but it had a hidden attachment.

She muttered a delicate curse under her breath. “He’s sent a hidden attachment. If you’d opened the message, the attachment would have self-activated.”

“What is it?” Dylan asked.

She looked up at him. “A worm.

“Can you read the e-mail?”

“I may be able to import it into the diagnostic program and decode it without touching the worm. I’ll do it on the shell, just in case.”

Dylan watched Natasha’s slender fingers flying across the keyboard. On the monitor screen, all he saw were rows and rows of gibberish—letters and numbers and mathematical symbols. Nothing he recognized. No real words.

Campbell came in with a bottle of water. “I heard a beeping noise. What’s going on now?” He walked up behind Natasha and leaned down to
see the screen. “What are you doing? Did somebody try to access the system?” His voice sounded strained—or excited.

Dylan frowned. Campbell had been with him over a year and not once had Dylan suspected he was anything but a very talented programmer and loyal employee.

Natasha glanced at Dylan, drawing his gaze. He saw in her eyes that she was going to lie to Campbell. He inclined his head slightly in agreement.

“The beeping was an alert. I’m sweeping the system to be sure nothing happened.” She swept them all with her gaze. “I’d really like to do this alone. The fewer distractions the better.”

Dylan took the hint. “Jerry, I want to practice with the virtual surgery module. I’d like for you to run a few tests on the program, just to be sure there are no hidden bugs.”

Campbell straightened. “Sure. It’ll take my mind off the fact that I’m trapped down here.”

“I’ll check the provisions and verify that the lockdown’s working like it’s supposed to,” Mintz said. He left the room and headed down the hall.

Dylan watched Natasha’s face. She’d found something. “Go on,” he said to Campbell. “I’ll be right there.”

Campbell eyed him and Natasha narrowly, but nodded. “Sure.”

He exited Natasha’s office and stepped across the hall to the virtual surgery lab. He could still see them if he looked their way, but he sat at his computer and began typing.

Dylan turned a side chair around and sat next to her, so he could see the screen. “Any luck?” he asked.

She glanced up and across the hall at Campbell, then shook her head. “Yep. Here’s the text of Tom’s e-mail.”

Dylan scanned the words she pulled up on the screen.

DS—R U msng Ur boy? We cd arng a trade Ur kid for interface U got 1 hr N—watch out. I’m in.

“What does that mean?
Watch out. I’m in.
”

“That’s to me. He’s talking about the worm. But I’ve quarantined it.”

“Quarantined it? Why not just delete it?”

Her slender shoulders shrugged. “I’d like to study it, see what he did. So far the things he’s done are typical of any hacker worth his salt. He’s planning something. If I can review the program he wrote, I can tell how much better he’s gotten since I knew him. Maybe I can turn the tables on him, and get evidence to prosecute him.”