Repo Virtual by Corey White (read a book .txt) 📗

“I’m joking. I’ll be here if you or JD need me.”

“Thanks,” Enda said.

Soo-hyun peeled away to plonk down on one of the plush lounges splayed, worryingly, beneath the massive constellation chandelier.

Enda approached the reception desk. “I’m here to see David Yeun,” she said, interrupting the overlong polyglot greeting. “He’s expecting me.”

The receptionist bowed, and reached for the phone. He made a call, speaking in a hushed apologetic tone. After listening for a few long seconds, he hung up, bowed again to Enda, and said, “I’ll take you to him.”

The receptionist came around from behind the desk, and led Enda past the bank of elevator doors into a well-lit but plain corridor—the ostentatious corporate wealth of the lobby left well behind.

They reached a pair of elevators, and the receptionist took his personal security card from his pocket and held it to a small panel by the doors. One of the elevators opened, and the receptionist stood aside, letting Enda enter first. He hit a button, but instead of ascending, the elevator dropped.

Nine meters below ground level, the elevator stopped and the doors opened onto another barren hallway. The receptionist walked quickly, stopping at a door of translucent glass. He tried his pass on the security panel, but it bleeped in protest. He knocked.

The door opened and Mohamed stood in the gap, his suited bulk blocking the view.

“Mohamed,” Enda said. “How’s the throat?”

Mohamed nodded to the receptionist. “I’ll take it from here.”

The man bowed deeply and retreated. Mohamed motioned Enda forward.

She stepped through the door and found herself in the executive gym. Mirrors lined one wall of the wide space filled with top-of-the-line treadmills, exercise bikes, and rowing machines, along with racks of weights and various other devices Enda couldn’t name. The only exercise tool she used was the sidewalk. The air was tinged with a mix of body odors and the sharp chemical scent of window cleaner.

“Raise your arms,” Mohamed said.

Enda did as she was told, biting down on the pain that arced along her right arm. Her jacket pulled open, revealing her holster. Mohamed took the pistol and inspected it quickly, before slipping it into the front pocket of his well-cut designer blazer. He patted her down—quick, firm, and utterly professional. He found the experimental datacube in her jacket pocket, inspected it, and returned it.

“If you try anything, I’ll be ready.”

Enda smiled. “Sure you will, big guy.”

Mohamed glowered, but Enda ignored him and approached Yeun. The executive was on a treadmill, wearing the sort of tight, overpriced running gear that Enda loathed, his neat hair artfully mussed by sweat and exertion, his cheeks tinged red with effort.

“Annyeong haseyo,” he said, without a hint of breathlessness. Enda was almost impressed.

“Don’t tell me you live here.”

“I appreciate your concern for my work-life balance, Ms. Hyldahl, but I assure you there is nothing to worry about. I sleep little, wake early, and aim to be at my desk in time to watch the sun rise.”

“Whatever it takes to stay on top, huh?”

“Now that the pleasantries have been dispensed with, can we talk about the business at hand? I am displeased with these delays, Enda. You should have brought the data to me immediately.”

“I was dealing with the group that shot up your people at the apartment. They had a hostage. Now they don’t.”

“Do you have the data with you?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Yeun pressed a button on the treadmill and it wound down to a stop. He wiped the sweat from his face with a white towel and stepped down to stand before Enda. His face was a mask, but Enda could see the gleam of excitement in his eyes.

She retrieved the cube from her pocket, and paused for effect before offering it to Yeun. He snatched it from her hand and felt the heft of that dense prison.

He stared at the cube and a smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, this is it. There are only six of these cubes in existence. The miniaturized hardware will represent another step forward in computing technology.”

“And a nice boost to Zero’s stock price,” Enda said.

Yeun ignored her. “How would you like your payment?”

“Aren’t you going to check the contents first?” Enda asked.

“I trust you, Enda. You have too much to lose to cross me now.”

Enda had to stop herself from smiling. “It’s not about trust. The sooner you check the cube, the sooner you can scrub my file from your servers.”

Yeun paused for a beat. “I suppose I can assay the data.” He held his hand out to Mohamed, who handed him a phone. Enda watched with intense focus as Yeun neatly slotted the datacube into the back of the device.

“How do I use it?” he said, convinced I was a thing to be wielded and nothing more.

“Just give it a minute,” Enda said. “Now, about my file.”

Yeun looked up from his phone. He smiled at Enda, all teeth. “I apologize, Ms. Hyldahl, but you must understand how useful an asset you have shown yourself to be. If I were to relinquish your file now, you might prove less than cooperative in the future. Besides, after the incident at the apartment, I realize that I must keep you on a shorter leash.”

Enda nodded. “That was your plan from the start? Hold that dossier over me indefinitely?”

“I didn’t get to where I am now by discarding useful tools.”

“As I expected. I’m feeling generous, David, so I’ll give you one chance to change your mind.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m giving you a choice.”

Yeun glanced to Mohamed. “Are you sure she’s not armed?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I’m afraid we’re done, Ms. Hyldahl, until the next time I require your services.”

“There won’t be a next time. Either you delete my file right now, and forget we ever met, or I burn Zero to the ground. I have people in place, ready to strike, right now.”

Yeun’s back stiffened and his lip curled in a sneer. “Even if I believed you, do you think I would bow to your whims? You’re the help, Enda,