Countermeasure Read Online Free PDF Page B

defense departments reach their goals from the safety of his chair.
    His work at the NSA also included the screening of high-level data acquired via geolocation surveillance satellites. The targets were determined by requests from several government agencies, but most of the requests came directly from the CIA and FBI, whose lists were never short.
    Trevor loved his job. Every single day was an adrenaline rush, filled with excitement and tension. The only dark spot on his bright horizon was the disappearance of his parents. As he watched the data scroll on the screen, his nightmare from just three months back flashed in Trevor’s mind. It still had the power to make him shiver and break into a cold sweat. The idea that they could still be alive somewhere, held captive—or that they had been murdered and not victims of a freak accident on the high seas was even more sickening. Since that night, he had scoured all possible means to acquire more details on the case, but so far he hadn’t come across anything that could be considered a solid lead.
    His mind travelled back to that summer four years ago, when his parents had disappeared while sailing, caught in the throes of a tropical storm in international waters off the coast of Northern Africa. He had taken a month away from work and had flown to Ireland as soon as he’d received the news, and had stayed in Ireland keeping tabs on the investigation into their case.
    The Irish authorities had not taken him seriously when he had continued to refuse to believe his parents were dead, unconvinced by the Gárda’s theories of what had taken place on their yacht that night. His angry, at times desperate words had been interpreted by the investigators as grief and desolation.
    At the time, he had relied on case details provided by the Gárda and on what Stephan had passed on to him based on information acquired through private investigators Stephan had hired, but it still failed to paint a full picture of what could have happened to them.
    Trevor had never taken the reins of the investigation, mostly due to denial and shock, but also for fear of what he would have found if he had dug in. After the fire of his anger had burned down, Trevor had closed off and locked away his feelings. He had refused to accept that his parents were gone, especially since there were no bodies to bury or mourn. There was no big Irish wake to host. No family or friends to join him in remembering their lives and laughter. No closure.
    Still unwilling to accept the reality of their disappearance, once his leave of absence had been up he had left his father’s company in Stephan’s capable hands and returned to the United States. Back at the NSA in his position as team leader, he had trudged on with his usual persistence to complete his responsibilities, numbing himself to it all.
    Not once had he disclosed or discussed the details of his parent’s case with George. Not because he didn’t trust George—he knew he could count on him like he would a blooded brother—but he just couldn’t get past the fact that his mother and father were no longer an email or phone call away. So, after Trevor had returned home, he had only shared the official information about them: they had died in a boating accident. The memories were still too raw and talking about it would make it too real to bear.
    To add to his anguish, the fact that they couldn’t be declared legally dead divided him. Part of him wanted to move on with his life, even though it would forever be empty without his mother’s humor and his father’s brilliance to push him ahead; the other part, the questioning and rebellious part, couldn’t quite accept the Gárda’s feeble explanations and theories.
    Now that he was actively searching for clues, his mind kept running through the possible outcomes of his search—his quest, as he referred to it. His mind also ran through those plausible scenarios and theories listed in the official inquest