Omega didn’t have that kind of time now.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” Sawyer asked Burgamy. “I can try to set something up, call in a few favors to see if I can get in deep undercover with DS-13 quick. It’s risky, but—”
“No, you won’t be going undercover, Branson.”
“Sir, I really think a quick, deep undercover mission is critical if we want to get Ghost Shell back.”
“I agree that we’re going to need to send someone in. But that someone will be Evan Karcz.”
Sawyer knew his best friend, Evan, was highly qualified and even had an established cover that could probably work well in this situation. But Sawyer did not want to be left out of the action.
“I’ll go in with him. He can use his buyer cover and I’ll—”
“No.”
Sawyer began to argue his case but then saw Burgamy’s raised eyebrow and the way his boss sat back in his oversize office chair. The man wasn’t interested in anything Sawyer had to say. Whatever was about to come next was Burgamy’s retribution for Sawyer punching him two weeks ago.
Damn. Sawyer just hoped it wasn’t a desk job at an outpost in Alaska.
“You will be heading to Swanannoa, North Carolina, for protective duty of Dr. Zane Fuller, the head of Research & Development at Cyberdyne Technologies.”
Babysitting. Almost as bad as a desk job in Alaska.
Sawyer knew he had to make some sort of case against this assignment. “Sir, respectfully, I feel as if my talents may be better used somewhere else. Somewhere a little more...active.” There was no way Sawyer wanted to spend the next couple of months babysitting some geriatric computer scientist. Not when there was real work that needed to be done.
“What’s happening at Cyberdyne is active, Branson. Dr. Fuller at one time was working on a Ghost Shell countermeasure—a decryption system. That system being finished will be key if DS-13 finishes and attempts to sell the new Ghost Shell.”
Sawyer grimaced. “I understand that and agree, but I just think someone else might be better suited for this particular job—”
“Someone who, say, isn’t coming off unpaid leave for striking his superior officer?” There was the raised eyebrow again.
Sawyer shook his head and slumped back in his chair. All right, so Burgamy wasn’t going to cut him any slack. Looking at his boss, Sawyer realized he wasn’t getting out of this.
“All right, Cyberdyne it is.” Sawyer spoke through his teeth with forced restraint.
“You’ll be bringing Ghost Shell with you. Dr. Fuller needs it in order to complete the countermeasure system. Downright adamant about that. You’ll have to explain what Fred McNeil did, and convince Dr. Fuller and the Cyberdyne team to help us.” Burgamy didn’t even try to hide the delight on his face. The thought of Sawyer having to deal with a grumpy computer scientist for the next couple of months in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina, made Burgamy practically gleeful.
Burgamy had chosen Sawyer’s punishment well; he knew how much Sawyer would hate this.
Burgamy filled Sawyer in on a few more details—none of which made Sawyer any more excited about the operation ahead. But fine, Sawyer would pay his dues, protect some old head of computer-nerdom for a couple of months, then get back to Omega, where he could do some real good.
And he would damn well make sure he never punched his boss again.
Sawyer’s arrival at the Cyberdyne Group Headquarters in Swanannoa, NC—more like Swananowhere, NC—the next afternoon did nothing to help reassure him that he would be doing any good in the fight against DS-13 while here. Sure, he could recognize the beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains all around him. But he’d give it all up to be inside some sleazy warehouse somewhere, with no views but concrete and sewage, about to arrest some bad guys.
This place—no matter how beautiful the surrounding scenery—was a waste of his time.
Not that Cyberdyne and the work being done here was a waste of time, but as far as Sawyer could tell, Dr. Fuller and his cohorts were not in any danger. No attempts had been made on their lives, nothing out of the ordinary had been reported recently. Which was great. But it also meant that somebody with a little less experience in the field could be here completing this assignment rather than Sawyer.
Sawyer sighed and got out of his car. There was no point bemoaning this any longer. He cursed his brother Cameron once again on his way up the steps. This assignment from hell was all Cameron’s fault for falling in love and trying to rescue the girl and save the world.
Sawyer rolled his eyes. Evidently Sawyer was a sucker for a good love story. And this was what he got for it: Swananowhere.
Sawyer looked at the file again as he walked through the door. Cyberdyne Group had been around since 1983, a midsize company, mostly focused on conceptual and computer engineering. They’d done some contractual work for the US government over the years, but not as much as bigger corporations. Most companies similar to Cyberdyne in this area were located a couple of hours away in the Raleigh-Durham Research Triangle. But the original owner of Cyberdyne had loved the Blue Ridge Mountains so much he had built the Cyberdyne offices and labs just outside Asheville rather than Raleigh.
There wasn’t a lot of information on Dr. Zane M. Fuller, the head of Research & Development at Cyberdyne—the person who had helped develop Ghost Shell and then turned it over to the FBI. Sawyer glanced at the file. Looked as if Dr. Fuller held two doctoral degrees from MIT—barrels of fun.
What the file didn’t hold was any useful information about Dr. Fuller to help Sawyer plan out his protection detail. Was he married? Did he work fourteen hours a day? Did he have any bad habits that might get him into trouble?
Sawyer pictured a balding, cranky older guy with thick glasses and probably a bow tie. If that really was the case, Sawyer was going to take a selfie with Dr. Fuller and send it to Burgamy. His boss would probably cry tears of delight.
Sawyer might cry tears also, but they definitely wouldn’t be of delight.
Sawyer made his way inside Cyberdyne, taking a few minutes to chat with the attractive and attentive receptionist at the front desk. Far be it for Sawyer to miss an opportunity to talk to a pretty lady, especially in a situation like this.
The receptionist called a security guard—not nearly as friendly or attractive—to escort Sawyer to the R & D wing. Sawyer gave the woman a wink as he walked away. Maybe a couple of months here wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
The security guard led Sawyer down a series of hallways to a set of double doors. Sawyer watched as the man swiped a key-card through a scanner to unlock the door—adequate security, but not excellent and certainly not unbreakable—and opened it.
The Research & Development area was a much more open space than the hallway they had come through. It buzzed with activity, at least two dozen people working and talking at different stations and tables around the large room.
Another reception-type desk was near the door. The woman working here was not nearly as put-together as the graceful blonde at the Cyberdyne entrance. Here was a sort of mousy brunette with hair piled up in a messy bun at the top of her head and glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She didn’t even acknowledge Sawyer and the guard as they entered the room—she was too busy rooting through a drawer.
Evidently she didn’t find what she was looking for because she got up and walked over