Leak: Hot Threat Series, #2

By Oliver Rayne

 Tom  Barrick suffers the worst night of his life and loses his self-control, just as the most lucrative deal of his life is offered. Dirk Crittendon, sole owner of the largest defense contracting conglomerate on Earth is losing hundreds of billions of dollars. Someone is stealing and selling the results of his expensive research and development programs, information that is decrypted and collated in only one room in the world.

 Only three people have access to that room and one of them is Crittendon himself. The two others, Dr Belle Thibodeaux an Elias McMahon, his lifelong friend, are two of the most trustworthy people he has ever known. Can Tom recover himself to stop the massive losses which could trigger a world-wide economic meltdown? Will he ever learn what the mysterious Dr Thibodeaux has discovered about him?

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oliver Rayne
• Release date: Oct 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502202956

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LEAK

Hot Threat Series, Book 2

Oliver Rayne

www.OliverRayneAuthor.com

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Introduction

Tom Barrick suffers the worst night of his life and loses his self-control just as the most lucrative deal of his career is offered. Dirk Crittendon sole owner of the largest defense contracting conglomerate on Earth is losing hundreds of billions of dollars. Someone is stealing and selling the end result of his expensive research and development programs, information that is decrypted and collated in only one room in the world.

Only three people have access to that room and one of them is Crittendon himself. The two others, Dr. Belle Thibodeaux and Elias McMahon, his lifelong friend, are two of the most trustworthy people he has ever known. Can Tom recover to stop the massive losses which could trigger a world-wide economic meltdown? Will he ever learn what the mysterious Dr Thibodeaux has found out about him?

CHAPTER 1

The gunmetal gray Aston Martin Vanquish slashed through the heavy rain. The wide tires on the expensive grand touring car were as sure-footed in the wet as they were on dry pavement. Tom Barrick glanced at the Breitling chronometer on his left wrist, reassuring himself that he had left the office in plenty of time to shave, shower, and dress for the wedding rehearsal and after-rehearsal dinner. 

Throughout the day he had been feeling butterflies in his stomach, though he usually had nerves of steel.  Part of the nervousness probably had to do with whatever Nestor had in mind for the bachelor party later that night, after the dinner. Nestor Rollins was known to get carried away when it came to partying. Both he and Blender had been hinting all week about the delights that they had arranged for him.  Tom was just hoping he managed to come out of it without an STD, since Nestor was fond of socializing with what might be politely called ‘women of easy virtue.’ 

He drove into the parking garage in his condo building, noticing right away that Kristin’s spot was empty.  It was no real surprise, Kristin could be either at the church or at the restaurant checking out the final arrangements for the after-rehearsal dinner.

The Vanquish made ticking sounds as the water dripped off the frame onto the hot exhaust as he walked towards the elevator that would take him to the penthouse apartment he had purchased for the two of them.  Kristin had been ecstatic when he had showed it to her, and she had insisted on decorating it herself.

Their taste in furnishings were extremely similar, and he had actually enjoyed shopping with her for the heavy antiques she wanted to complement the massive new furniture that they both loved.  It had taken four large men to bring in the bedroom suite with the mammoth four poster bed, the armoire, the two chest-of-drawers, the eight foot long dresser, and the dressing table and chair for her.

He opened the door and stepped inside, and for the first time he associated his butterflies with a feeling that something was terribly out of whack.  It was eerily quiet inside, and the gentle butterflies in his belly turned into vicious vultures.  It was so bad that he nearly reached for his gun, nestled in a pancake holster on his right hip.

There was a single lamp on in the master bedroom, and at the base of the lamp there was a bright white envelope.  His heart plummeting, Tom already knew what it would say, at least the gist of it. 

Steeling himself, he reached for the letter. When he opened it, he recognized her spiky handwriting immediately.

"Dearest Tom:

Please believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you...  I wanted so much for this to work.  You’ve made me so happy these last months that it was easy to push away my dreams, dreams that I’ve worked so hard to achieve since I was a little girl.  The sacrifices in college, studying when others were out partying, going to school for all those years  to get my PhD. Plus the years of travel and constant networking to develop an international clientele. And finally, the blessing that is my profession.  I can’t just walk away from all that, turning my back on the clients who rely on me and turning them over to someone who doesn’t care for them the way that only I can.  I would only have time to be a good wife to you if I could just change and just do something else, but that’s not me and never will be my darling.

Please don’t come looking for me, it would only make things harder for both of us.  I know this is unfair, you had the right to hear this from me face to face, but I just don’t have the courage. I love you Tom, but I truly believe that marriage would eventually strangle both of us.  And I couldn’t bear that.

Goodbye my Love,

Kristin"

Shit! he exploded.

He walked to the bar in the living room and poured himself a double shot of rye whiskey into a squat Waterford crystal tumbler from a matching decanter.  He drained the tumbler and set it down on the polished mahogany bar, refusing to allow himself the luxury of finishing the decanter. 

There would be guests already arriving for the rehearsal and the dinner afterwards.  He would not allow their efforts on his behalf to go unrewarded.  He would dress in his best clothes and show up, graciously explaining that there would be no wedding and insisting that they stay for the dinner, which the restaurateur had been working on all day. 

He could hold it together for that long, and then he would come home and climb into the decanter of Russell’s Reserve Rye whiskey and quite possibly into the spare bottle under the bar.  When he sobered up, he would permit himself the luxury of re-thinking the rest of his life.

CHAPTER 2

So much for loyalty, he thought. 

After he had made the announcement, no less than four of Kristin’s ‘friends’, attractive, expensively dressed, and clearly on the prowl for yet another well-to-do ex-husband, had commiserated with him. They offered to keep him company while he got over Kristin’s ‘awful’ abandonment of him at the last minute.

One of