Page 20 of The Honeymoon Hack
Brie finally sat, taking the seat across the aisle from me. “Once we locate the server, I’ll need at least twenty minutes with direct access to find and extract the data we need and delete Scarlett’s photos.”
I picked up her thought and said, “While I provide a distraction, if necessary, and keep watch while she works.”
As Scarlett and Malcolm refined the light cover they were using for their stay at the resort, I switched to the seat facing Brie. Leaning forward on the table between us, so only she could hear me, I said, “I know you’re nervous, but I promise I’ll watch out for you.”
She put her hand out, and I took it in both of mine. “I’m not worried about that. It’s more about keeping our story straight. I have to remember which parts of our past we’re supposed to pretend didn’t happen and which parts supposedly turned romantic.”
“Let’s approach it like code.” I let go of her and reached across the aisle for my tablet. Quickly sketching a simple network diagram with my stylus, I said, “Our actual history is the foundation layer. The romance element is just a recent overlay we’ve added to the system.”
“Parameters and guardrails,” she muttered, taking the stylus and expanding on my basic concept.
I just watched her. She added decision trees and exception handling protocols to my rudimentary flowchart, enhancing the diagram rather than correcting it. I’d missed this direct collaboration during my year away; video calls were a poor substitute for the creative energy that sparked when we worked side by side.
She looked up suddenly, catching me staring. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, swiveling the tablet to face me. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, just more elegant than I would have designed it.”
“It’s logical. I can do logical.”
My hand found hers across the small table. “You can do anything.”
Brie frowned and stood abruptly to resume her pacing. “But what if we miss something? What if?—”
“Stop spiraling,” I said firmly. “Channel your nervous energy into something useful.”
She paused mid-step, then diverted to where her backpack had been stashed and pulled out her laptop. She returned to the seat across from me and started the computer. “Fine. I’ll prepare for the absolute worst-case scenario.”
“Define worst-case for me?”
“If I only get one shot at the Fenix server and can’t be as surgical as I want, I’m going to kill their entire digital footprint. I’m altering one of my viruses, so it’ll spread to every connected device and destroy whatever it touches. Fenix will be the ones who don’t have enough intel. For anything.”
She worked for the next forty minutes without looking up. No pacing, no questions, no worry. When Scarlett tried to talk to her, I put up a hand to silence the question. Brie needed her code right now, more than she needed to go over the cover story one more time. She’d written most of the story and knew it far better than I did, anyway.
The pilot eventually announced it was time to prepare for our descent into Miami. Our flight attendant walked through the cabin, ensuring everything was stowed and everyone’s seatbelts were fastened.
Once we landed, Brie and I would be on our own. We’d catch a commercial flight to Grand Bahama, and in the morning, take the staff shuttle boat to Blue Haven Cay.
To Mnemis.
With my gadgets, my brain, and most importantly, my fake wife.
Chapter 8
Brie
The boat enginevibrated beneath my feet as we skimmed across the crystal waters of the Grand Bahama Bank on Wednesday morning. I gripped the small ferry’s railing, watching the endless horizon that had given Blue Haven Cay its name. The air was hot and sticky, a stark contrast to the crisp fall weather at home.
I allowed myself a moment to simply breathe—to absorb the reality that I, Brie Reynolds, was actually in the field.
Will stood beside me, hands tucked casually in his cargo shorts’ pockets as he chatted with one of the other passengers. The boat carried about forty people—all Mnemis technicians beginning their two-week shift rotation.
Once we’d arrived in Freeport last night, we’d checked into our hotel, made some quick calls, and crashed. I’d woken up in the middle of the night and found Will’s bed empty. He’d been hiding in the bathroom, talking to the staff at his mother’s facility. Near as I could make out, she’d had a minor fall, but was okay.
I’d snuck back to my bed before he came out, so he wouldn’t know I’d heard him. The last thing I needed to do was stress him out any further.
He didn’t say anything about it this morning.
Part of me wanted to ask if everything was all right. But after the way our visit with her on Monday had crushed him, I couldn’t find the words.
