“Eliminate the others who know the contents of those servers,” I ordered.“No one can know what happened to the data or why.Destroy the security footage and get a team at each site to confiscate evidence of the explosives.I want to know everything before the goddamn government does.”
Scott nodded as he pulled out his phone but paused when he saw me head for the door.“Where are you going?”he asked.
“For a ride,” I said, slamming the door behind me and making my way into the garage.
Flinging open one of the lockers against the garage wall, I changed into the spare set of clothes I kept in different places around the house, switching my suit for a pair of jeans, a leather jacket, and boots.
Grabbing my keys and helmet, I opened the garage door and turned on the ignition to the Ducati 1299 Panigale S.Ironically, it was the same bike Jaden had used to escape my estate all those years ago.
To this day, I still couldn’t believe how she managed it, but at least she had good taste in bikes.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again, the caller ID being the only reason I answered.
“What have you got, Marx?”I asked.He’d better have answers if he was calling me this soon.
“Did their operations team tell you they had a breach in their system a week ago?”he asked me.
I paused as my hand clenched tightly around the phone.“No.”
If they had a breach and didn’t inform us that my data had been compromised, there would be hell to pay.
“Figures,” Marx continued.“It was pretty big.Whoever it was, they were there for nearly fifteen minutes before anyone knew, and by then, they were already gone before anything could be done.It doesn’t look like they ever found out who it was either.”
Son of a bitch.
“Anything else?”
“No, that’s all I have for now.I’ll let you know when I find more,” he answered.
“Good.See if you can figure out who it was,” I said and hung up.
After securing my helmet, I shifted into gear, riding out of the garage and down the driveway, the iron gates opening in perfect timing as I peeled out onto my private road.Reining in my rage, I forced myself to save it for the right time and concentrated on the road instead.
Speeding down the highway, I zipped past several cars, weaving in and out of traffic as I made my way toward my destination.It took about twenty minutes for me to pull up to the house in Spring Valley, hidden away up a private drive.
Pulling off to the side, I removed my helmet and hid my Ducati in an obscured section of the property.The desert landscaping didn’t offer much cover, but it would have to do.
As I maneuvered around the modular desert house for a quieter entrance, the mostly glass exterior showed virtually no one inside.The back door was too easy to break through, the lock disengaging without effort as I silently pulled it open and stepped inside.
The house was quiet.The 1970s vibe of the interior gave away its owner’s age and their obvious refusal to renovate to the current century.Rounding the corner, I found my target sitting at his desk, his back to the open door as he typed something on his laptop.
“Damage control, I hope?”I said from the doorway.
Patrick Edgar jolted from his seat, turning around frantically with the ghostly white face and wide brown eyes.
“Davis,” he gasped as he clutched his chest.“What are you doing here?”
I cocked a brow at my longtime manager of Digital Frontiers, leaning against the doorframe, unimpressed.“Haven’t you heard the news, Pat?”
He stared back at me for a moment, unsure of himself.“Of course, I have.I just got off the phone with the insurance company.”
I almost snorted.The insurance company.As if that was a top priority right now.
I dipped my chin as I casually walked farther into the room.“And what did you tell the insurance company?”
Patrick frowned as he looked up at me from his chair.“That I don’t know what or how any of it happened.”
I raised my brow at him.“No?Not a clue, huh?”