“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” says Connor, still with that soft voice. He must see my anger at his contradiction, because he adds, “I know you need to be clearheaded, and I also know you need sleep to be clearheaded. Let your program do its work. Harry’s right. There’s nothing more we can do for now.”
Waiting. I’m no good at it. I’m even worse at taking directions. But judging by the expression on Harry’s face, it looks like I’m going to be doing both of those things whether I like it or not.
Slowly, I stand. Miranda stops pacing long enough to send me a cool glance. “You said you know him, this Maelstr0m.”
I nod, feeling Ryan’s eyes on me. For such sweet baby blues, they’re downright scary.
“And that he likes to create chaos.”
I nod again.
Miranda says, “What if—to unruffle his feathers, as you put it—what if we give him the appearance of chaos?”
Harry asks, “How?” but I’m already on the same page with Miranda.
“A press conference,” I say, staring at her. “But you’d have to act really—”
“Devastated,” she murmurs, warming to the idea. She moves closer, her eyes brightening. “Tears?”
“Gallons. If you can pull it off realistically, faint.”
Her smile is savage. “I’ve spent the last twenty years around actors. I can pull it off.”
With narrowed eyes, Connor looks back and forth between the two of us. “I thought you didn’t want publicity, Miranda. If you give a press conference—and cry—it’ll be a media circus. You’ll be all over the news, here and abroad.”
At the same time, Miranda and I say, “Exactly.”
Harry says flatly, “No press conferences.”
Miranda looks at him. “You’ll speak too,” she says in a tone reserved for royalty addressing peasants. “What should he say, Tabitha?”
My lips curve into a smile, just as savage as the one Miranda wore. “That the studio has experienced a major breach in its network and you’re coming forward with it because Miranda thinks it’s important to be transparent with the public and her shareholders. That the business and government communities can only catch these cyber criminals by working together. That the hacker responsible is the Hannibal Lecter of computer crime, the head of a highly sophisticated, vertically integrated global network of hackers, and his capture could have even more far-reaching effects than the capture of Bin Laden.”
I pause. “Make sure you use both those names. He’ll love that shit.”
Harry erupts in anger. “Are you crazy?” he shouts. “I can’t go on national television and compare a hacker to Bin Laden!”
“Leak it anonymously, then,” responds Miranda calmly. “Or compare him to Hitler.” Her eyes meet mine. “I know a thing or two about men with gargantuan egos. One thing they all have in common is they want to be recognized as the best. Even if being the best means being the worst.”
“Absolutely not!” barks Harry, but Miranda isn’t having any of his attitude.
“Would you like me to call your superior?” she asks, one blonde eyebrow arched.
Harry has to take several deep breaths before he managers to answer. Veins are popping out all over his neck. “My superior,” he says between clenched teeth, “is the President of the United States.”
Miranda’s expression is serene. “I know. We’ve met on more than one occasion. He’s a big movie buff. I gave him a personal tour of the lot.” She smiles lazily. “He invited me to spend the night in the Lincoln bedroom at the White House.”
The subtext is clear. The leader of the free world has the hots for Miranda.
You have to admire a woman who can render four grown men speechless. I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my smile.
Connor clears his throat. “Well. We’ll leave you to figure out the details. Harry, you know how to reach me. Tabby…” He sears me with a look. “Let’s go.”
I snort. “You’re funny, jarhead.”
“I’m not joking. We’re leaving. Together.”
Now everyone is looking at us. Heat sweeps up my neck. I say quietly, “No.”
Harry intervenes. “You can have two federal agents assigned to you, Miss West, or you can have Metrix. Your choice. But until this investigation is over, someone is keeping eyes on you twenty-four-seven.”
Livid, I glare at him. “I know my rights—”
“Use that big brain of yours to think of all the perfectly legal scenarios where you end up a lot worse than simply followed, Miss West. I’ve got fifteen agents who’ll swear under oath they saw you hack into the FBI’s database like you’d been doing it for years.”