It would’ve been a few words shorter.
Connected to the lead’s office was a small briefing room with multiple screens to support videoconference with multiple locations. It was one of the only dark rooms on the premises. A thin film laminate of rodlike nanoscale particles was suspended in a liquid between two pieces of glass for each windowpane making up the walls of the briefing room. When the switch was off, supplying no voltage to the walls, the suspended particles simply floated in a random pattern for one hundred percent opacity. Dial up the controls, applying gradual levels of voltage, and the particles aligned to allow light to pass through for variable levels of transparency on the walls.
The technology was fairly impressive. But for the most part, the briefing room remained opaque and private.
So she’d stood in the briefing room and watched the feed from the pod as Diaz continued to discuss things with Mr. Kyle Yeun. Diaz had also thoughtfully left her a tablet with intel on Mr. Yeun. Basic background check.
On the screen, her potential client leaned forward and started studying the contract. He scrolled through the electronic pages, using the tablet’s touch screen with ease. “I assume this contract is executable immediately?”
Diaz answered in the affirmative. Neither police officer attempted to read the contract. The US marshal was maintaining standing position almost directly under the video camera and could probably read the contract upside down on the tablet if he chose. She couldn’t see his eyes, so she had no idea whether he was focusing on the contract or the approaches to the pod through the glass walls.
As it was, the man she was here to meet, and possibly begin guarding, was one hell of a speed-reader. Or he didn’t care about the particulars.
“The language in your contracts is refreshingly clear and concise, Mr. Diaz.” Yeun delivered the compliment in a somewhat distracted tone, his attention still on his reading. Well, he was indeed reading the fine print, then. Fast.
Quite the type A personality was Mr. Yeun. Born in Korea and arrived in the US at a young age with his father and mother, he’d taken advantage of the American school system and every opportunity for advancement. Scholarships for college and internships in the summer. He’d managed to build himself a successful career in fairly short order. Hell, his basic credit check showed him to have excellent credit too. She’d be willing to bet he’d tucked a nice parachute for early retirement.
Even his voluntary testimony in the civil and criminal actions against his former employer spoke of efficient practicality. Whether he was driven by moral and ethical standards wasn’t indicated in the depositions. He’d negotiated a deal with the district attorney for immunity, so he wouldn’t be going to prison or hit with the hefty fines potentially associated with whatever case this was.
However, the exact nature of the case was suspiciously redacted. A company name stood out in the case though—Phoenix Biotech. Since she’d both encountered the company before and come out of it singed, she wasn’t surprised the case was so covered in black marks.
Diaz had pulled up what could be found on public record and she’d read it later. For now, she had the basic information she’d require to decide. She was more focused on watching Yeun and his witness protection. The tension between each of them was not at all good. She couldn’t fault Yeun for wanting someone with a personal investment in his safety, even if it came from monetary obligation.
The remaining question was whether she’d be willing to take this job solo. Yes, she’d be coordinating with the US marshal deputy and two police officers but she wouldn’t have another Safeguard operative at her back.
Centurion Corporation had their resources assigned to squadrons, each squadron comprised of four to five fire teams. Each fire team was a four-person team. She’d been a part of a fire team since she’d left active duty with the US military and signed on with the Centurion Corporation. A half dozen fire teams, including hers, had moved over to Safeguard but they were still stretched a bit thin with the current contracts.
It’d been a long time since she’d worked alone for as long as this assignment would take though, with no one to watch her back. The only reason she had the last time had been because things had gone sideways. The days it’d taken for her to reach safety again still played out in her nightmares.
Yeun chose that moment to stand up, stepping around Officer Austin to pace the interior of the pod as he continued to read. The other man hadn’t given ground, per se, but he’d sat back in his seat to let Yeun by with a roll of the eyes.