TUESDAY

Chapter Eleven

Echo loved her early morning routine at Maclays, she puffed the froth off a latte at the coffee stand out front and skimmed the free tabloid, full of suspect news stories and barely concealed publicity stunts. She'd head upstairs when she hit the sports pages, then before anyone else came in she would rule the office floor, for a few minutes at least.

When the job in the relationship department came up she'd done everything she could to get on it, to move up the ladder, to go where the action was. Instead she found herself at yet another desk crunching numbers, surrounded by unskilled testosterone and innuendo.

But she was used to that. As a teen the snide comments had been about how fat, how ugly she was. She'd developed a tough hide to counter it. Then, at the age of twenty, she blossomed, a very late developer, and the magnetic repulsion that surrounded her turned to attraction.

By then she was too cynical too care, she enjoyed her looks, of course, who wouldn't? But it was basic dog psychology – men either tried to bully, sweet talk or befriend her to get her attention. She didn't like the fearful kind. Pretenders the lot of them.

She sucked a searing slug of hot liquid through the foam and caught sight of Savage striding across the road towards the revolving front door of the Maclays tower.

He looked in a rush. In fact he looked like shit. Still nimble and knotted tight sinew though.

She waited for him to enter the building. And realised something about what she really wanted in life.

'Hey,' she said to the barista. 'One Americano to go.'

*

Echo plonked a paper cup of coffee down on the desk next to Savage's screen. The only one alive in the empty office.

'Thanks,' he said.

'Been sleeping in bushes?'

'Yeah,' he rubbed his eyes, gave her a sleepy smile. 'My body clock's a bit off. Got to bed late, then woke up before the birds.'

'So, what're we helping you with today?'

He glared at her.

'Hey, sorry I asked,' she said.

'Sorry,' he hadn't meant to glare at all. 'I just wasn't expecting anyone in this early, especially—' he stopped himself.

'What,' she said. He shrugged and looked embarrassed. 'Especially not me, right?'

'Am I that transparent?'

'Yeah, I feel like a peeping tom when I look through you and see what's inside.'

'That right? Why are you in this early?'

'If I leave any later than six-thirty I'm either in traffic for an hour or sniffing armpits on the tube.' She pronounced it like toob with a little kink of her lip. She saw his look.

'You might want to pull the blinds down Savage. It's way too early in the morning to start fantasising about me.'

For the first time in a long time he blushed like a school boy. Not out of anger, or frustration at dropping a mag during drills.

'You're cool. I like that,' he said. 'Thick skinned too.'

'Ah, butter me up, I love it. What do you want?'

'You ever go up to the CEO's floor?'

'Me? God, no. Like once to drop off a report.'

'Describe it to me.'

'I got as far as reception.'

'That's all I need.'

'Okay, big desk, foyer area. Retro modern panelling behind, frosted glass off to the sides. Paris Hilton wannabe on reception, you know the type.'

'Ugh?'

'Maximum ugh. Lady Ga-Ga lack of personality, you know?'

'Pop culture left me way behind, but I get the idea.'

'There's a seating area to your right when you come in. I remember that.'

'What else?'

'Nothing.'

'Any signs?'

'Oh yeah, banqueting to the left, meeting rooms one, two, and three, to the right.'

'You sure?'

'No. Could be the other way round.'

'Banqueting?'

'Oh sure, big Chief Sutherland has his own butler and chef.'

'The other half, hey?'

'I actually don't have another half.'

Their eyes lingered longer than either of them expected.

'You notice phones, internet points, anything like that?'

'Normal receptionist stuff. It's all wifi though. Not sure they do points any more.'

He thought about that for a second. 'Okay, that could work too.' Then gave her his best I'm a man you can trust smile.

'You need the bathroom?' she said.

Okay, smooth. He vowed never to fake a smile again.

'You up for more mischief?' he said, and tried a real smile.

'You really don't know me do you?' she wheeled her chair close enough for their knees to touch. He felt her heat. 'I'm always up for mischief.'

*

The phone rang, a recorded voice kicked in.

'This is the Chief Executive's office. You are calling out of hours. You will now be diverted to the switchboard.'

Another ring.

'Good morning,' a husky male voice said, one tea break away from the next cigarette. Night security at shift's end. 'You've been redirected from the executive office. Can I take a message?'

'Oh, hi honey,' Echo said in her best American. 'What's your name?'

'Mark Smith.'

'Mark can you be a doll and just take this down? Stacey Blonqvuist calling from the I-Sec department.'

'I-Sec.'

'Oh, sorry sweetie. Internet Security.' She giggled. 'I'm talking corporate at you.'

'No problem,' the man said.

'We've been updating the back office security overnight and we're having problems with some of the legacy systems in place. We need to send our teams out in the morning to check infrastructure on the executive floor.'

'That's more detail than I need, miss.'

'Okay then, just take this: Legacy systems update, technician will be on site, his name, wait a minute, I have it here, Paul Roberts. Authorised by Security Director Trevor Thomson. They need to call this extension, x762, to confirm his arrival and authorise access to the floor.'

'That's in the message book.'

'Thank you so much Mark.'

'No problem, miss.'

Savage made a throat-slit gesture. Kill the call.

'Say Mark,' she said, giving Savage a look. 'I just love your accent.'

You could almost hear the man's chest swell.

'You sound so refined, like Hugh Grant or somebody famous like that.'

'Really?'

'Really. I hope we speak again soon Mark. Bye bye for now.'

She cut the call, caught Savage's look. 'What? Men are easy. Just pile on the sugar.'

'We're not all that easy.'

'Wanna bet?' She didn't so much as smoulder at him as smarm very, very, sweetly. A eunuch would need a cold shower.

'Not ever,' he said. 'Want to take another step into my world?'

She opened her mouth a little. Her tongue glistened. 'Definitely,' she said.

'Cool,' he pointed at her bag. 'Any make up in there?'

'A little. It's not like I need much.'

'No argument here,' Savage made a come-hither motion his hands. 'Show me what you got.'

She unloaded the bag on the desk. Like a small portal to another universe, it always amazed him how much a woman's handbag contained. Eventually she pulled out a small compact case.

'That,' he said. 'Bring it.'

They walked over to Armstrong's office. 'You're the early riser here,' he said, 'what time is it?'

'Six-fifty.'

'What time does this guy normally get in?'

'After seven.'

'Anyone else but you get in before him?'

She pursed her lips. 'Not usually.'

'Okay then, we've got eight minutes tops.' He pointed at the security lock, a ten digit combination type. 'You're going to break in using your compact.'

She hesitated, for a moment he thought she might bottle it.

'Show me,' she said.

'Open it up, make sure there's loose powder on the surface.'

She did, then looked up.

'Now take the brush and gently brush the digits on the lock.'

She moved quickly. Too enthusiastic.

'Gently,' he said.

She did as he told her. When she finished, she said, 'Okay, what next?'

'Ready to be amazed?

'Always.'

'Blow the excess off.'

She pursed her lips and leaned over, realised what that looked like, said, 'Don't get any ideas,' and blew on the lock.

'Not while I'm working. So what's left behind?'

'Oh, c'mon,' She laughed. 'It can't be that simple?'

'The oils left from the fingers stick the powder to the digits. Works better than infra-red,' he motioned his eyes at the pad, 'So what numbers do we have?'

She scrunched up her nose and leaned forward. '1-6-9,' she said. 'But...that can't be right, he normally punches in four numbers.'

'Or uses one number twice.'

She saw it. 'No way.'

'Try it.'

She tapped 1-9-6-9 into the pad then turned the silver handle. 'Oh my god,' she looked up at him, 'we're in.'

'How much time do we have?'

'Six minutes.'

'Okay, inside, we've got to work quick.'

'What're we looking for?'

'Anything to do with Cerberus Enterprises or Daniel Sutherland.'

'Why them?'

'Not now,' he fired up the computer. 'Just crack on,' he said, 'and use this.' he threw her a small digital camera. 'See anything of interest,' he pointed to the filing cabinet, 'put it in the light, keep the camera rock-steady, take a picture. We can always come back later if we miss something.'

She caught the camera and opened the first drawer.

'What are you doing?'

'Not sure, depends what access we have.'

He watched her move as she flicked through the files in the drawers. She fit her office trousers perfectly. He wondered how long it had been. He never paid for it like the other guys back home.

I just called over there back home, he thought. That’s ridiculous. This is home, isn't it?

'Hey, stop fantasising about my gorgeous body and get back to work.'

She turned and held up her first find, a file. She opened it, started taking pictures.

The log-in screen came up and he plugged in another USB stick. The Windows auto-start feature popped up.

'Yes,' he said.

'What's that do?'

'It's going to auto-run a program that strips all his cached passwords out and saves it to the USB, the other program is a trojan and key-logger that'll send me reports on everything he does on this machine.'

'Isn't that illegal?'

'The programs aren't. You can buy them to spy on your kids or a cheating spouse. Breaking in and stealing data, that's a crime. Corporate espionage, no less.'

'Could I lose my job?' she said, snapping more pictures.

'And go to jail.'

'Now I'm scared and horny.'

Their eyes locked. If only.

'That's the buzz,' he said. 'Time?'

'Two minutes.'

'Thirty seconds and we're gone.'

When she finished they moved out quickly, he pulled the door shut behind them and rubbed the residue off the keypad. They took their respective seats.

'What now?'

'Act busy,' he said.

Seconds later the lift door opened and Armstrong strode on to the floor, head down, reading a report. He glanced at their terminals. Then ignored them and carried on to his office. If he noticed someone had been inside he didn't show it.

'We're clear,' Savage said. 'Pass me the camera.' She slid it across the desk. 'Well done by the way, you're a natural.'

'Why are you whispering?' she said.

He made a face. 'Force of habit?'

'You'll be making hand signals next.'

'I might just do that. Listen. I need to get out of here, look these over.'

'Sure thing. I'd come with you but, now he's here, I'm chained to this desk.'

'Boss man gets twitchy if he can't see you busy?'

'You got it.'

'Well, you have been busy,' that made her smile, 'very busy, only not the way he thinks.'

'Bring me back something nice.'

'Roger that.'

'Later, trouble,' she said.