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Next(30)
Author: Michael Crichton

"And you?"

"I am based in San Francisco at the moment. Before that, Zurich."

He was listening to her accent. He had thought it was French, but it was probably German. "You are from Zurich?"

"No. I was born in Tokyo. My father was in the diplomatic corps. I traveled a lot when I was young. I attended school in Paris and Cambridge. I worked first for Credit Lyonnais in Hong Kong, because I speak Mandarin and Cantonese. Then I went to Lombard Odier in Geneva. Private bank." The waiter came. She ordered mineral water, a brand he did not know.

"What is that?" he said.

"It's Norwegian. Very good."

He ordered the same.

"And how did you get to BDG?" he asked.

"Two years ago. In Zurich."

Rick said, "What were the circumstances?"

"I'm sorry, I can't say. A company had a problem. BDG was brought in to solve it. I was asked to help - some technical issues. I subsequently joined them."

"A company in Zurich had a problem?"

She smiled. "I'm sorry."

"What companies have you worked with, since joining BDG?"

"I'm not free to say."

Rick frowned. He was thinking this was going to be a very weird interview, if she couldn't tell him anything.

"You realize," she said, "that data theft is a global concern. It affects companies around the world. Estimated losses of one trillion euros annually. No company wishes its problems made public. So we respect the privacy of our clients."

Rick said, "What exactlycan you tell me?"

"Think of any large banking or scientific or pharmaceutical firm. We have probably done work for them."

"Very discreet."

"As we will be discreet with you. We will send only three persons to your company, including me. We will identify ourselves as due-diligence accountants for a VC firm that is thinking of investing. We will spend one week reviewing your status, and then report to you."

Very straightforward, very direct. He tried to focus on what she was saying, but he found her beauty distracting. She did not make the slightest sexual gesture - not a glance, not a body movement, not a touch - yet she was immensely sexy. No bra, he could see that, firm breasts beneath a silk blouse...

"Mr. Diehl?" she said. She was staring at him. He must have drifted off.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "It's been a very difficult time..."

"We are aware of your personal stresses," she said. "And also of your security issues. I mean, the political aspects of your security."

"Yes," he said, "we have a head of security, a man named Bradley - "

"He must be replaced immediately," she said.

"I know," he said, "but his uncle - "

"Leave all that to us," she said. The waiter came back, and she ordered lunch.

As the conversationcontinued, he felt more and more drawn to her. Jacqueline Maurer had an exotic quality, and a personal reserve that he found challenging. It was not difficult to decide to hire her. He wanted to see her again.

At the end of the meal, they walked outside. She shook hands firmly.

"When will you start?" he said.

"Immediately. Today, if you like."

"Yes, good," he said.

"All right, then. We will visit your headquarters in four days."

"Not today?"

"Oh no. We start today, but we must address your political problem first. Then we will come."

A black town car pulled up. The driver came around to open the door for her.

"Oh, and by the way," she said. "Your Porsche has been located in Houston. We are quite certain your wife did not take it." She slipped into the town car, her skirt riding up. She didn't pull it down. She waved to Rick as the driver closed the door.

As the limousine pulled away, Rick realized he was breathless.

CHapter 018

It wasjust his way of relaxing, Brad Gordon knew, but try explaining that to anyone else. A single guy had to be careful these days. That was why he always brought a PDA and a cell phone whenever he sat in the school bleachers. He'd pretend to send messages and talk on the cell phone, like a busy parent. Maybe an uncle. And he didn't come all the time, just once or twice a week during soccer season. When he didn't have anything else to do.

In the afternoon sun, the girls running around in their shorts and knee socks looked lovely. Seventh-graders - coltish legs, budding breasts that hardly bounced as they ran. Some of them had real racks on them, and butts that were developed, but most retained an endearing, child-like quality. Not yet women, but no longer girls. Innocent, at least for a while.

Brad took his usual seat, halfway up the bleachers and over to one side, as if he were keeping some distance for his private business calls. He nodded to the other regulars, grandparents and Hispanic maids, as he took out his PDA and set his cell phone on his knee. He got his stylus and began to peck at the PDA, acting as if he were too busy to look at the girls.

"Excuse me."

He looked up. An Asian girl was sitting down next to him. He had never seen her before, but she was cute. Maybe eighteen or so.

"I'm really,really sorry," she said, "but I have to call Emily's parents" - she nodded toward one of the girls on the field - "and my battery died. Could I possibly use your phone? Just for a minute?"

"Uh, sure," he said, handing her the phone.

"It's just a local call."

"No problem."

She called quickly, saying something about it being the third quarter and they could come and pick her up soon. He pretended not to listen. She handed the phone back to him, her hand touching his. "Hey, thanks."

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