Repo Virtual Corey White (chapter books to read to 5 year olds .txt) 📖

the air over his desk, its surface buffed to a molten sheen. The floor-to-ceiling windows turned black, the city tinted dark, then was entirely obscured.

An image appeared across this new, massive screen. Enda took a step back to see it clearly, but she didn’t need to: she recognized it instantly. The old, grainy photo, lengths of redacted black like the snake in that old cellphone game devouring classified intel.

Enda had been expecting this since Mohamed uttered her name on the street, but she still seethed, fists clenched tight.

“I have evidence showing that Ira Lindholme was stationed in North Korea in the months leading up to the country’s collapse. I have detailed after-action reports for seven of Lindholme’s missions, including sabotage operations and the assassination of key military personnel. Today, Ira Lindholme is wanted by the People’s Republic of China for war crimes. And I am sorry to say that I have evidence proving that you, Enda Hyldahl, are indeed Ira Lindholme.”

“Is that all?” Enda said with a shrug. “Redacted files?”

Yeun nodded toward the screen and it changed again. The black redactions faded to the off-white of paper, revealing neat letters and numbers spelling out Enda’s every dirty secret.

“Your former United States of America kept much confidential data on Zero servers. It was, after all, cheaper than storing it themselves,” Yeun said. “The data was encrypted, of course, using our proprietary software.”

Enda leaned on the back of the empty chair and stared at Yeun. “You have access to my full file and you want to blackmail me? You should know better than anyone how bad an idea that is.”

“I understand that you must be angry. Unfortunately, there is no recourse for you but to accept this job. Zero provides facial recognition software to eighty percent of airports worldwide, and seventy percent of all other border crossings. Our software is used by Interpol, and half the world’s police, military, private security, and intelligence services. All I need to do is press one button, and every profile in our database under the name of ‘Enda Hyldahl,’ every recent photo captured on CCTV, will be linked to your true name.

“How do you think the military tribunal in Hong Kong will react to news that one of the people responsible for toppling North Korea is living in Songdo?”

Enda sneered. “North Korea toppled itself.”

Yeun bowed his head. “I’m sure you won’t mind explaining that to Chinese authorities.”

Enda glared, but Yeun only smiled in response, the two facing off beneath a screen decorated with atrocities. Every page another mission she would rather forget, though the memories simmered constantly beneath the surface of her conscious mind. The only thing keeping them in check was her loathing—for Yeun, but mostly for herself.

“You retrieve the data quickly and quietly, and I will delete all copies of your dossier from Zero’s servers.”

“Why should I trust you to do that?”

Yeun’s face was placid. “I don’t know that you have any other choice.”

Enda paused. She wanted to consider her options, but the truth was, she didn’t have any. One job for this smug prick, or a lifetime on the run.

“Two million,” she said, voice low.

“Agreed,” Yeun said, fast enough that Enda knew she could have asked for more.

He opened one of the drawers set into his expansive desk and retrieved a shiny black datacube. With a slight bow of the head, he handed it to Enda.

“I have opened a line of credit for your expenses. It has already been linked to your phone.” An expense account took time and paperwork to arrange. Even before Mohamed had approached her on the street, Yeun already knew he had her. The meeting was just a formality.

“The account should cover any expenses incurred during your investigation. The cube contains all the data we have on the robbery, indexed and cross-referenced. If you need to know anything else, you will also find contact details for Mohamed. He is a professional and will assist you even after this morning’s misunderstanding.”

The tiny pixels that made up the window screen turned transparent in a ripple from the center.

“It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Lind—” Yeun stopped, smiled briefly, and continued: “Ms. Hyldahl, but I have other matters which require my attention. If you’ll please excuse me.” He raised an arm toward the doors, which swung open silently. “Annyeonghi gasipsio.”

Enda stayed put, eyes locked with Yeun for just a moment too long—a look that said, You will regret this. If Yeun got the message, he didn’t let it touch his smile.

Enda turned and walked from the opulent office, Yeun’s eyes following her the entire way. She rode the elevator down to the huge foyer, where a collection of star systems made of glass and precious metals hung suspended in the air. Crossing the open plaza, executives and corporate ladder climbers dressed in thousand-euro suits watched her in confusion, trying to guess at who this woman in workout clothes was, and who she could possibly have been meeting.

Enda left them to their questions and stepped outside. The rain had started to fall again, sidewalks slick and shiny. She began to run, knowing it would take kilometers of cement under her feet to quell the rage that burned in her core.

DEBRIEFING OF AGENT IRA LINDHOLME, CONDUCTED BY CHIEF OF STATION ALAN MORTONPAGE 23

MORTON:

THEY WERE ALL DEAD WHEN YOU LEFT?

LINDHOLME:

MOST WERE. A FEW WERE STILL EXPIRING.

MORTON:

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THAT?

LINDHOLME:

HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO FEEL?

MORTON:

IRA, I’M ONLY TRYING TO HELP.

LINDHOLME:

IF YOU WANT ME TO FEEL SAD, I’LL FEEL SAD. IF YOU WANT ME TO FEEL A DEEP SATISFACTION AT A JOB WELL DONE, I’LL FEEL THAT INSTEAD. YOU SENT ME IN BECAUSE YOU NEEDED THE N.K.S.O.F. NEUTRALISED. I DID THAT.

MORTON:

YOU WERE SENT TO COUNTER THEIR ACTIONS.

LINDHOLME:

AND HOW ELSE WAS ONE PERSON MEANT TO COUNTER THE ENTIRE FORCE? YOU WON’T ADMIT IT ON RECORD BECAUSE YOU HAVE A SENATE SEAT WAITING FOR YOU BACK HOME. BUT I KNOW WHAT I WAS SENT TO DO.

MORTON:

WHAT IS AMERICA TO YOU?

LINDHOLME:

I DO THE WORK, AL, DON’T MAKE ME