Page 81 of Insidious Threats
They walked through the automatic doors into the entryway, where Petra grabbed a handled basket. Connelly shook his head at her and wheeled a full-sized cart out from the line of buggies. She shrugged and returned the basket to the stack.
“Um, I guess roast chicken and vegetables. I know that sounds basic, but I had the most mouth-watering roast chicken at this little country inn in France. Sometimes I dream about it.”
Sasha looked at her husband, who nodded. “Piece of cake.”
Petra glanced from one to the other. “He’s going to make it?”
“Yes, but he’s also going to teach you how to make it. Cooking’s an important life skill,” Sasha told her.
Petra considered this. “Okay. Wait, what are you gonna do while I learn how to roast a chicken?”
“Oh, I don’t cook. I’ll be taking a nap. Now, if you had to guess, what size coffee filters would you say your machine takes?”
“I literally have no idea. I get my coffee at the office.”
“Sacrilege,” Sasha retorted. “That’s fine. I’ll just buy one box of every size.”
* * *
Unfortunately,it turned out that Sasha was too wired and too tired to sleep. She tossed and turned on the futon in Petra’s mostly empty guest room/office for more than thirty minutes before admitting defeat. She wandered into the living room, where Petra was staring at lines of code displayed on the flatscreen TV hanging on her wall.
Connelly sat beside her on the couch watching her with a bemused expression.
“What’s she doing?”
“She ran Landon’s virus through a sandbox so she can play with it safely.”
“Those are all words.” She perched on the arm of the couch.
“It’s not a bad worm,” Petra said without taking her eyes off the screen. “It’ll definitely work. But it’s clear he’s a developer, not a hacker. I’m going to make a few tweaks.” She glanced over. “Unless that’s a problem?”
Sasha and Connelly had an entire wordless conversation in one exchange of glances.
Do we trust her?
Don’t we have to?
What if she messes it up?
She’s one of the most talented hackers in the world.
Yeah, but we only have one shot at this.
She’s risking more than we are.
No, you’re right.
“No problem,” they said in unison.
She shook her head and tried to hide her smile.
“Didn’t you sleep?” Connelly asked Sasha, rubbing her arm.
“I’m too keyed up. Between the time changes, being up all night, and then all the coffee this morning, I couldn’t. I’m exhausted, and that’s dangerous, but I can’t sleep.”
“Why is it dangerous?”
“It would be good to be firing on all cylinders tonight when we break into an office building to sabotage a maniacal billionaire’s dystopian weapon, don’t you think?”
