Читать книгу The Seventeen - Joel Arcanjo - Страница 9
ОглавлениеAbigail Vaughan, corporate spy. She loved how that sounded. Abigail Vaughan, about to become the most talked about name in New York. The perpetrator of one of the greatest thefts in history. Not money. Not jewels. Not gold. The most powerful force in the world.
Information.
It was just a shame that she wasn’t really Abigail Vaughan.
Her employers had created the identity in order for her to gain access to her current company, ArchiTech, the undisputed champions of modern technology. Not for long though. The information she possessed would sink them once it was in the hands of her real employers.
She had risked a lot accepting this task. More accurately, Abigail Vaughan had risked a lot. Amanda Jones, on the other hand, had risked very little. Even her employers didn’t know her real name. They knew her only as AJ. They did not even know her true appearance. Abigail was blonde with blue eyes. Amanda was brunette with green eyes. Abigail had a higher-pitched but charming southern drawl. Amanda’s was low and entirely unremarkable. They were different in almost all aspects of their lives.
Amanda Jones would never be linked to Abigail Vaughan. But at least she would know what she had done. Not being able to boast about it only made it all the more special. It had taken her months to become this different person. It always did. She had to create a complex back story and then embody that tale to perfection because if she didn’t believe it, no-one else would. But after today no-one would ever be able to find Abigail Vaughan. She would not exist.
She sat at her desk waiting for five o’clock, her eyes shooting uncontrollably to the clock. She had the information and needed to get out of there. Her employers paid her half up front, half when the job was done. Morals did not come into it. It was all about who could write the most zeros on a check. She was a chameleon for hire and she loved it - except at that moment. Lunch had passed but five o’clock was a long way away. Leaving now would just be suspicious.
Then came the sound she least wanted to hear.
“Miss Vaughan. Stand up.”
She rose slowly. She knew who it was. A clear English accent. Only ten people in the New York branch of ArchiTech were English and this one just happened to be the one person she did not wish to see.
“Miss Vaughan, where are the files?”
She froze, her back still to him. Her heartbeat quickened, but she had been in situations like this before. There was only one thing to do. Deny. Deny. Deny.
“What files. Mr Archer?”
“Look at me, Miss Vaughan.” His voice was stern.
She swung round to meet his gaze, her face now a picture of innocence.
“Where are the files, Miss Vaughan?” he repeated.
“I have no idea what you mean, Mr Archer.”
“Are we really going to do this? It would be easier for both of us if you just turned them over right now. That information is useless without our technology.”
“What information? Can we start from the—”
“Look. The information was downloaded onto a portable hard drive by our Chief Analyst an hour ago.”
She maintained her composure. “So... what’s that got to do with me?”
“Our Chief Analyst is your boyfriend!” The office went quiet. “How long have you been working for us, Miss Vaughan?”
“Three months.”
“And how long have you been dating our Chief Analyst?”
“Three months. But I can explain—”
“No point. He rolled on you straight away. Clearly you aren’t as good as you think.” He was looking for a reaction but she didn’t give him one.
“He says you were very persuasive when asking him to download the information.”
She said nothing.
“So what was the plan, sell the information to a rival? I hope not, because they would be very disappointed with you. You see, that information is protected by an encryption system I designed myself. There are probably three people in the world that can break it and I promise you, none will touch this. So hand it over and we will not press charges.”
She was busted. She knew it, but it really didn’t matter. Her job was to get the information to her employer. No more. No less.
“You’ve got the wrong person, Mr Archer. I’m a temp, I don’t know anything about this information you’re talking about.”
A smile broke out across his face. “You’re pretty good Miss Vaughan. If that is even your name. But this is your last chance. Where is it?”
She knew she had to go now, before he called the police.
“As it’s clear I can no longer work here, I don’t have to stand here and take this. Goodbye, Mr Archer.”
She grabbed her coat and handbag and began to walk out. But as she passed Lex Archer, he grabbed her arm. “Miss Vaughan, if this information gets out you’re dead. Do you understand that?”
She wrestled her arm free and got out of the building as fast as she could. It was done. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Three hours later. Abigail Vaughan. Amanda Jones. The chameleon. All three were dead.
