I wanted to spend the next morning with Annabelle, some one-on-one time, before she and Tracy headed up to Massachusetts to see his sister. Four-plus hours is a lot of time to be strapped in a car seat, so the plan was to bundle up and get her plenty of fresh air beforehand. For Annabelle, that meant going to her new favorite place. The Central Park Zoo.
After a full trip around all the exhibits, with Annabelle happily out of the stroller and tramping through the fresh snow for most of the visit, we landed on a bench by the sea lions. That’s where I’d told him to meet me.
“We’re just going to wait a little bit for my friend, sweetheart. He should be here any minute,” I said.
Annabelle hardly minded. A fox, a giraffe, a hippopotamus, an iguana—she was on my lap and fully engrossed in the A-to-Z animal picture book I’d bought her at the gift shop, although she was having a heck of a time turning the pages with her mittens on. When I tried to help her she all but swatted my hand away. Score another one for the movement against helicopter parenting.
“I do it, Daddy,” she assured me. “I do it!”
A minute later he arrived, wearing a bulky overcoat, a wool trapper hat, and one of those ski masks with cutouts for the eyes and mouth.
“You look like you’re about to rob a 7-Eleven,” I said.
“Can’t help it,” said Julian. “We Brits don’t like the cold.”
It wasn’t that cold, but I was fairly certain the ski mask was serving a dual purpose for my old friend. Warmth, yes, but also anonymity. Just in case.
Of course, the trick to being known as one of the world’s most gifted and feared hackers is not to be known at all. Only a handful of people on the planet could pick Julian Byrd out of a lineup. Thankfully, Vladimir Putin wasn’t one of them, nor were any members of ISIS, Al-Qaeda, Hezbollah, Hamas, Boko Haram, or the Taliban. Julian had wreaked havoc on all their hidden bank accounts over the years, in addition to either blocking or intercepting the bulk of their online communications. They’d all love to kill him. If only they knew who he was.
The fact that I did was rooted in my CIA days stationed in London, back when Julian was with MI6. After I left the agency, he soon joined it—with MI6’s permission, naturally. In return the Brits got a guarantee of better shared intelligence, plus access to some advanced spyware out of a certain Silicon Valley lab disguised as an academic software developer.
“My apologies for running late,” he said.
“No worries. You’re the one doing me the favor,” I said. “As usual.”
“Yes. That is true, isn’t it?”
“Plus, you actually left your Batcave and braved the weather for me.”
“How could I say no? I finally get to meet this gorgeous little lady.” He pulled up his mask, flashing a huge smile. “Hello, Annabelle! I’m Julian.”
“Beard!” she said, pointing.
Toddlers love to cut to the chase. Julian truly did have an epic beard these days. It wasn’t long, but it was big and bushy.
“Do you want to touch it?” he asked, leaning forward.
Annabelle patted away on his beard with her mittens, laughing as Julian made one funny face after another.
“Who needs the animals?” I said.
“Yeah, about that,” he replied. “Who goes to the zoo in winter? I didn’t even know it was open.”
“Are you kidding me? This is the best time. Isn’t that right, Annabelle? What was your favorite animal we saw today?”
She raised her hands in the air. “Snow leppies!”
“Little-known fact,” I said. “The snow leopards actually have heated rocks in their exhibit. They’re more fun to watch in the winter.”
“I’m sold, professor,” he said. “Let’s go look at the leppies!”
Annabelle was immediately on board, she raised her arms again. “Yeah! Yeah!”
“Wait! Wait!” I said.
“Ah, yes. Business before leppies, huh?” Julian pulled his mask back down over his face and took a seat on the bench next to me. Reaching into his coat, he handed over an envelope. “Here you go,” he said.
“So you were able to do it?” I asked.
“Of course I was able to.”
“You said it couldn’t be done.”
“I always say that. Then I go ahead and do it.”
I looked down at the envelope, feeling the flash drive between my fingers. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Just buy me a Ferrari one day and we’ll call it even,” he said. “In the meantime, be extra mindful on this one.”
“How do you mean?”
“The certain endeavors we engage in, the things we do, people like us. As risky and dangerous as it all is, it never really plays out in public. We never have to deal with that added component,” he said.
“You mean, sunlight.”
“Yes, as it were. Sunlight.”
“I understand what you’re saying.”
“Do you?” Julian leaned forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Because if this von Oehson kid ends up dead on your watch, my old friend, it’s a whole different kind of exposure.”