want me to help him and then what? What do I get for my generosity?”
Llallana stopped and turned back, combing her hands through her short jet-black hair as she stared at the computer screen for a few seconds. Amber let the silence draw out. Something was definitely troubling her friend.
“It’s up to you,” she finally said. “Why do you want to help this man out?”
“It’s Jed’s man,” Amber explained. “Jed did me a favor and I owe him one. Besides, I’m curious…what’s the hot stuff this time that is so damn secured?”
“Hot stuff” was their code for a wanted item, be it goods or information. It was their way to finance their own personal operation. The non-CIA-sanctioned one, that is.
Amusement entered Lily’s dark eyes. “Are you sure it isn’t because you saw this man’s hot stuff?” Her voice was teasing. “You practically felt the entire package.”
Amber felt her cheeks heating up. She was never going to live that down. “I don’t need that kind of hot stuff.”
“Oh yeah, I forget. Your love life’s so full. How’s Mr. Sun?” There was a studied casualness in Llallana’s voice.
Amber raised an eyebrow. Bradford Sun, a powerful man working for the UN peacekeeping department, was a friend, nothing more. But sometimes it helped to let the local thugs think she and the tall striking man had a closer relationship.
“Brad’s fine. Busy as always. Anything else you want to know?” She studied Lily closely, but her friend was very good at hiding her true feelings. “You can join us for a late dinner tonight if you like.”
Llallana shook her head. “I’m busy.”
“Uh-huh. Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding Brad?”
Llallana gave her a bland look. “Me? Let me get the facts right. I just came into town, remember? You called to tell me about the new CIA guy.”
“I also called to tell you that Brad has found a few more girls in need of help,” Amber reminded her soberly. “You have to find time to talk to him about them.”
Without warning, Llallana swung around again and headed for the doorway. “Get some info for me at your dinner tonight if I don’t show up, Amber,” she called over her shoulder.
Amber settled back in her office chair, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. Llallana steadfastly avoided Brad. If she didn’t know her friend, she would think Lily was afraid.
Hawk frowned. That had never happened before. Being cut off so abruptly could only mean one thing. He had been compromised—someone was tapping into his conversation with Jed’s personnel. Dilaver? He dismissed the suspicion.
No, it had to be last night’s assailant, of course. Leaving that note was just a distraction. The real intent had been to tap his phone. Hawk looked down at the small cell phone in his hand. Radio frequencies were easy to capture, but his had a built-in voice modulator that automatically changed frequencies to avoid being captured on radio. To trace calls from his cell, one would need a microchip specifically made to send wireless frequencies to a satellite source that would then send the signals back to the motherboard. Not an easy thing for the layperson, which meant his attacker from last night was not only good at martial arts but at electronics and, no doubt, computer programming.
Hawk unscrewed the top of the antenna, pulling it out of the phone. He inspected it closely for a minute and slowly, with thumb and forefinger, lifted a sliver of hairlike material attached to it. Some kind of fiber optics. His lips quirked, part of him filled with astonished admiration. That was one small delivery guy. Where would the tracer chip be hiding?
Carefully laying the sliver onto a piece of white paper, he returned his attention to the cell phone, flipping it open and closing it, trying to figure out what was done to it. For the tracer chip to copy and relate the dialed numbers to the thief-antenna, it would need to use energy for power. Stored memory. Of