Page 180 of Black Reign

A person who enters, takes what she wants, leaves almost no trace, and seems to understand my defensive architecture before I deploy it.

No.

My fingers hover.

Could be coincidence.

I don't believe in coincidences.

GHOST: You’re inside Blackwell systems.

No response.

GHOST: How long?

Still nothing.

I push.

GHOST: You’re the breach.

Her answer takes so long that my untouched Scotch arrives before she responds.

The waiter sets it down.

I don't acknowledge him.

NULL flashes.

VESPER: One of them.

I go perfectly still.

One of them.

Not denial.

Confirmation.

Vesper has breached Blackwell.

My Vesper.

The woman I've spent years speaking to when I can't sleep.

The woman who sends me half her mouth and beats my encryption for sport.

The woman I invited into Haverhill's wedding.

She's the hacker I've been hunting inside my own company.

A laugh almost escapes me.

Not because this is funny.

Because the alternative may be breaking something expensive.

GHOST: How long?