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Harry Tallman, who hated being an inch shorter than Tom Cruise, was caught doodling by his boss.
Shouldn’t have been.
His subconscious had heard the sharp clack of her high heels on the polished concrete flooring in plenty of time to screen flip.
So few people had clearance to enter the CIA’s CAD offices—not Computer-aided Design, but rather Cyber Attack Division. Which was kind of about redesigning the world, but…not.
His boss definitely had clearance—she’d doubled the size of the already substantial team with a single swipe of a perfectly manicured but unpainted nail.
Those sharp heels always announced her arrival with clear authority.
And he’d totally missed it.
He’d been goofing off, looking under the skirts of the CJ-100’s code—China’s newest hypersonic, long-range, aircraf
