Back Point of Contact Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY TOM CLANCY
  3. PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
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  40. 37
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  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

His Dalfan security brief indicated that the only people allowed to download data from the machines were Dalfan employees with Dalfan USB drives, each registered to just one individual. If Lian really wasn’t responsible for the file disappearing, he might be able to convince her to pull every Dalfan USB and check for the file—or at least the trace of it, assuming that by now it had been transferred to somewhere else. If they could find the USB that had been used to copy it, they’d have their culprit. It was a long shot, but the only one he could think of.

The elevator door slid open and Jack headed for his office, nodding at the security receptionist at her desk, frantically typing away at her desktop. He waved his flash card and passed through the security door.

Jack saw that half of the workstations and offices were empty in the main work area. He bumped into several people who were gathering up their belongings and leaving. He supposed it was lunchtime.

Jack waved his security card over the reader to the last door, but he could already see through the glass walls that Paul wasn’t in his office. He entered it anyway. He looked around. Didn’t see Paul’s coat or his laptop bag. He turned around. Yong wasn’t in his office, either, nor was Yong’s junior spy, Bai.

Jack headed back through the first floor, now largely empty. He approached the security receptionist, who was pulling on her raincoat. Her computer was already shut down.

“Did I miss the memo?” Jack asked.

“You haven’t heard? Typhoon Ema is on the way here. We’ve been told to go home and prepare.”

“When will it get here?”

“Tomorrow. The news says it probably won’t reach here, but the weather will get worse for sure.” She grabbed her purse.

“I’m looking for Mr. Brown, my associate. Have you seen him?”

She pulled her hair into a ponytail and slipped a scrunchie over it. “He asked me to call him a cab. Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No, but I assumed he was going home.” She pulled on a floppy rain hat. “Sorry, but I need to go. Anything else?”

“No, thanks. Be safe.”

“You, too, Mr. Ryan. Find some high ground, and stay off the roads.” She turned, then stopped herself. “And please tell Mr. Brown I hope he feels better soon.”

“I will, thanks.”

She bolted for the front door, her rubber rain shoes scuffing on the granite floor tiles.

Jack went back to his office and grabbed his stuff, too. No point in going down with the ship—at least, not this one.

More important, he needed to find Paul.