To an outside observer she might seem inordinately pleased, considering the subject matter, but that’s the way she rolls. “We’ll assume for now that Shane is alive and being held in some unknown location for purposes of interrogation, pretty much as he predicted. If they’d wanted to kill him they would have done so, rather than go to the trouble of seizing him from this residence. Dane, you’ll work your sources at the Justice Department, see if there’s any scuttlebutt on Randall Shane, or any known involvement by a covert security agency.”

“Whatever this is, it’s buried deeper than deep,” Dane says. “I think a personal appearance is warranted. Show the flag.”

“Agreed,” Naomi says. “Take the shuttle.”

Dane pouts. “I was thinking the Gulfstream.”

Naomi, very firm: “Not warranted.”

“But the Benefactor is always very generous with his-”

“Shuttle. End of discussion.”

“Yes, ma’am,” says Dane, crossing her arms across her chest. “Ma’am” being what she calls boss lady when she doesn’t get her way.

Naomi ignores the attorney being spoiled and childish-the Benefactor’s personal Gulfstream is indeed at our disposal, but only for exigent circumstances-and turns to the elder male in our presence, the handsome alpha dog.

“Jack, you’ll turn up whatever you can on additional background on the victim and his theoretical son. And see about infiltrating QuantaGate.”

“Budget considerations?” he asks, looking up from his notebook with a furtive glance at the still-pouting Dane.

“Whoever it takes.”

“Great. I’ll go with the Invisible Man. Assuming he’s available.”

The Invisible Man is an operative Jack has used in the past. None of us have ever seen him. I’m assuming he’s not actually invisible.

“Use whatever operatives you see fit,” Naomi says. “And there may be another line of inquiry worth pursuing. As I recall, QuantaGate was financed by local venture capitalist Jonny Bing. Who I believe is an acquaintance of yours, Dane.”