Page 2 of Jonas

Guess we’re staying.

“What kind of information?”

“The kind you and your team were looking for in Virginia.”

Nope, this woman didn’t work for the Treasury.

“What kind of information do you think we were looking for?”

Amy’s gaze didn’t waver from Zane’s. She didn’t show any signs of intimidation, even though Zane’s tone had turned aggressive.

Impressive.

“Delcon has a security issue. Your contact has reported it to management, management is sitting on his warning. He went up the chain, reported it there, and is now being told to shut up or he’ll be terminated.”

“Let me see if I have this right. The US Treasury Department is concerned about a possible security issue at a data center. And this concern runs so deep they dug into it and found information I might want? That’s the story you’re selling? Why the hell would Treasury care about the cooling systems at a data center that does not house any of their data?”

“They don’t.”

They don’t.

And there it was, I was right.

Amy Hart was a bullshitter.

Then she went on with an attempt to fix her faux pas, but it was too late, we’d all caught it.

“We care about the large sums of money being paid to SimpCo in the form of thousands of small transactions.”

“Why would Treasury care about that? And if you tell me taxes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“SimpCo is owned by Bolin Chen. He’s on the Office of Foreign Assets Control sanctioned list. This went unknown until very recently. Now that it’s known, OFAC has an interest.”

Plausible, but bullshit.

Especially the part about Amy working for OFAC or any bureau within Treasury.

“And, you? What’s your interest in this?” Zane asked.

She looked confused for a moment, but she rallied quickly.

“My interest is to broker⁠—”

Zane made an annoying buzzer sound. “Lie detected.”

“You’re not the only one who’s interested in stopping what Maddon Judd sold to the Chinese.”

And… the truth comes out.

“Well hell,” Zane sighed. “Guess I can take my team, head back to Maryland, and let the good ole CIA handle what they should’ve been handling all along.”

“Like you trust the CIA not to fuck this up.”

“Good, you know your employers are fuckups.”

“She’s not CIA,” Nebraska broke in. “Her name’s Derrika Layne. She’s an investigator.”

Derrika Layne.