me if I got caught accessing data above my security classification?’
‘The same thing that would happen to us,’ said Bianca.
‘Not quite! Irreplaceable intelligence asset; pretty white lady; black guy. Who do you think’ll come out worst of those three?’
‘But you won’t get caught, will you?’ Adam said. ‘You never have been before.’
‘Again, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’ve been doing any . . .’ he couldn’t hold back a hint of pride, ‘awesome hacks.’
‘So you can do it?’
‘Hypothetically speaking,’ said Levon, straightening, ‘there ain’t a system built I can’t get into. Speaking purely hypothetically, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Bianca echoed with a smile.
‘How long will it take?’ asked Adam.
‘Well, with the security that STS runs, if I were trying to get in from the outside it could take days, even weeks. But since I’m sitting right here . . .’ He gestured at his monitors and grinned.
‘You’ll help us?’ said Bianca.
‘Yeah, I’ll help you. Hell, after what you did in Russia, everyone in America should be doing favours for you. You got hold of all al-Qaeda’s secrets! Even if you didn’t manage to bag al-Rais himself, we’ve still got enough to kick their asses. Plus, Holly Jo and Kyle wouldn’t shut up about how awesome you were when you scared off those fighter planes. Almost wish I’d been in the field to see that. I figure saving their lives is worth something. Well, Holly Jo’s, anyway. Kyle? Eh.’ He waggled one hand in a so-so gesture, then smiled to assure them he was joking. ‘So, you want it right now?’
‘Can you do it?’ Adam said.
Levon snorted. ‘“Can I do it?” the man says. Weren’t you listening?’ He turned to his computer and started typing, fingers flicking over the keyboard. ‘Give me a minute here.’
More of the project’s day-shift members had arrived in the Bullpen. Adam saw Kyle approaching, on the way to his own workstation, and was concerned that he would be curious – but then he veered off to start a sports-themed conversation with someone else.
‘Okay, here we go,’ said Levon, pointing at a particular file. ‘This might be what you’re after. It’s the index of all the recordings of people’s personas.’ He opened it and quickly scrolled through. ‘All these here, they were done early on, when Tony was in training. Once he went active, there were only a few done at the lab, like if they needed an expert in something specific. Then, after the project was suspended, there’s obviously a gap – until it started up again with you, Adam.’
Adam regarded the screen intently. His name leapt out at him from the list. The date beside it was ten months earlier – less than two weeks after the car bombing in Islamabad. ‘Is there any more information?’
‘One sec, man . . .’ Another rapid burst of typing. ‘Yeah, here.’
Bianca examined the new text. ‘They did record your persona. So what happened to the disk?’
Adam had already read on. ‘It doesn’t say – but I know who can tell me.’
Twenty minutes later, Kiddrick arrived at his office – and like Levon, found someone waiting for him. In this case, it was Adam alone. ‘Good morning, Dr Kiddrick.’
‘Morning, Adam,’ said Kiddrick, mildly surprised. ‘Something I can do for you?’
‘I need to ask you something. In private.’
‘Of course.’ Kiddrick opened the door. ‘Come in.’
Adam followed him inside. Kiddrick’s framed qualifications were mounted prominently on the wall behind his desk, positioned to be the first thing a visitor saw on entering. The other walls were home to photographs, also in frames: Kiddrick shaking hands with prominent figures from the scientific and political worlds, the latter including Harper and even the Vice-President.
The scientist took his place at the desk and airily waved for Adam to sit before him. ‘So, how’s the interrogation of al-Rais proceeding?’
‘It’s going well,’ Adam replied. ‘We’ve got a lot from him. But that’s not why I’m here.’
‘Oh?’
‘I wanted to ask something about the PERSONA procedure itself. Specifically, about when I joined the project.’
Kiddrick’s demeanour changed, a subtle wariness creeping over him. ‘Yes?’
‘I noticed in the lab that there’s a recording of Tony’s persona. Is there a disk containing mine too?’
Kiddrick’s gaze momentarily flicked up to one wall. Adam followed it to a large photograph of the scientist shaking hands with a distinguished-looking older man. ‘Why do you want to know?’
The brief dart of his eyes had been unconscious, defensive. Was there a wall safe behind the picture? ‘Is there a disk? Is that where