Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7) Jacki Delecki (comprehension books .txt) 📖

filled out her tight skirt instead of the “CIA” part of Darcy Wilson and the fact that she had flown to Seattle to see him.

Ms. Wilson hesitated before she offered her hand. “Mr. Hewitt, thank you. I appreciate you meeting with me with little notice.”

His hand engulfed hers. Sparks of awareness shot down his spine at her mere touch. Reeves held her hand longer than expected, unable to sever the electrical energy sparking between them. Her eyes shot up to his. She stared at him with a direct openness, almost an intimacy. Heat flooded his body, his mind suspended by the raw and honest connection.

He kept her hand in his as he absorbed the delicate angle of her face, the tiny scar that ran across her eyebrow, and the mole next to her lip begging to be kissed. He was close enough to see amber glimmers in her sea-green eyes.

What had Sophie done to him? He was acting so out of character that it was downright scary.

She pulled her hand away and marched with a ramrod spine to her seat. And shit, shit. He had to look, his eyes disobeying the higher parts of his brain pointing out that his behavior was unprofessional. He repeated, “CIA … CIA” to himself, but, unable to control his lower male self, all he could do was track her sweet ass.

“You’re going to be surprised by the reason Ms. Wilson is here.”

Reeves pulled his shit together and followed Richard to the table. He seated himself across from her.

“If you’re not here about our latest patch to our software … then you’re here to recruit me, and your trip was wasted.”

Richard chuckled. It was a bit eerie to have his severe boss smiling and laughing like a good ol’ boy.

Darcy Wilson stiffened, which was pretty difficult since she already sat at attention. He had enough meetings with the military and spent a lot of time with the oorah Marine Jenkins and associates to recognize the training.

“You used to be military before the CIA?”

Her head snapped up. “What does it matter?”

“Just interested. And since I don’t know why you’re here …”

She cleared her throat and exhaled loudly enough that he could hear her across the seven-foot table. His boss was all about power statements.

“I’ve been ordered to ask for your assistance on a matter of national security.”

Reeves could barely keep from laughing. By her choice of words and her pinched lips, Darcy Wilson was not happy with her assignment.

“I’m all ears to hear how can I help the CIA and you, Ms. Wilson.” Not to be an egotist, but the CIA could benefit from his skills, though he’d never last under all the restrictions and rules. Richard Dean appreciated Reeves’s need for independence and gave him a wide berth in how he performed his work.

Her lips pressed tightly together with her lower lip tucked underneath and her pert freckled nose scrunched up in disapproval was endearing. And what was wrong with him that he was captivated by this one woman? She was a CIA officer, and he was focused on her every single movement, the slight changes in her color, every little nuance, like how she kept her plump lips compressed as if she was trying to hold the words in.

“What I’m about to disclose cannot be shared with anyone. Do you understand?”

“I’m sure my security clearance covers whatever secret you’re about to reveal.”

 He liked the way the buttons on her blouse looked as if they might pop when she exhaled in irritation. Why was she so easy to rattle? CIA officers were trained in subterfuge and manipulation. How did she ever function undercover?

“The game that you designed with your college buddies has been used in acts against the government of the United States.”

All the air left his lungs in one gigantic swoop as it had yesterday when Lars flipped him flat on his back during their Krav Maga workout.

“Who has done what?”

“We believe that Snakes Ahead was used to access the servers of two American embassies seventy-two hours ago. They are now locked, and the hackers demand a ransom to give control over to the embassies. Of course, the US doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, but the information they’ve taken is classified, and it’s vital that we find who used the game.”

“Was the attack Thanos? It’s the latest variant of ransomware in the Middle East and North Africa. Which embassies were attacked? If it’s what I suspect, the ransomware will be configured to overwrite the MBR unless they get their money. It would mean the server and all files will be erased, and we’ll have no chance to get them back. The ransomware often uses the overwrite of the MBR to display the same ransom message. The bigger issue, though, is that the hackers might have made a mirror site and copied the information.”

“Mr. Hewitt, I’m a field agent, not a cybersecurity officer. I’ve been sent here to gather information about the game developers and who, besides yourself and Theodore Thompson, would be able to reconfigure the game to gain access for the attack.”

“Did the ransomware leave a message on how to retrieve the files?”

“I’m not at liberty to share all the details of the attack.”

“Overwriting the MBR—the master boot record—is a more destructive approach to ransomware than usual. It would require an incredible effort to recover their files—even if you paid the ransom.” By the blank look on her face, he was losing her. He was used to watching people’s eyes shutter with his techspeak. When his brain was firing, the words were like an overflow valve to help him process.

“Mr. Hewitt. The CIA has an incredible cyber team who are handling the malware. I need to find who perpetrated the attack, not try to crack the ransomware. How easy would it be to hack into the game to use it for malicious intent?”

“Video games have loads of hackers who want to score higher, so they develop cheat apps. I’d like to believe our game