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floor.
    â€œJust three things, General,” she said while donning her riding jacket before pocketing her mini tablet computer and her smartphone.
    Hastings stopped in mid-stride and turned to face her, dropping his gaze at the skull and bike patches on her jacket. “Only three, Doctor?” he finally said.
    â€œFirst, don’t touch me again,” she said, running a hand through her short hair. “Second, don’t touch me again. And third, don’t ever, ever fucking touch me again.”
    The general took a deep breath, freckles dancing on his pulsating high cheekbones while he stared down at her before exhaling heavily. “Fine, Doctor. Now, shall we?”
    Hastings led the way with a reluctant Angela in tow, followed by the ever-present Riggs. The general used the VIP master key card that Pete had given him the night before to get through the thick door, leaving behind the controlled chaos inside Mission Control. The trio proceeded in silence up the concrete steps under the grayish glow of fluorescents, reaching the third-floor landing, where he used the key again to gain access to a square foyer lined with offices, including Pete’s, Angela’s, Jack’s, and also the visiting VIP office, which Hastings had the honor of occupying since last night.
    The general tapped his key against the reader by the door, disengaging the magnetic locks, and went straight for the chair behind the empty desk by the large windows offering an unimpressive view of the parking lot. Large framed and signed prints from old shuttle missions covered the other walls. He pointed to the chair across from him.
    Angela took her seat and looked over her right shoulder at Riggs standing at attention behind her, eyes straight ahead.
    â€œWhere did you find this guy, anyway?” she said. “Steroids-R-Us?”
    â€œSo, Dr. Taylor,” Hastings began without making eye contact, crossing his legs and glancing at his wristwatch. “Tell me why you chose to commit an act of computer terrorism against the United States of America.”
    Angela just glared at him.
    â€œSee, Doctor,” Hastings continued, still not looking her in the eye but at the tips of his manicured fingers. “Last time I checked, treason carries an automatic death sentence.”
    Angela also crossed her legs and began to play with her black fingernails, which she was proud to notice didn’t look nearly as manicured as his. “General, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    Hastings kept his gaze down as he said, “You reprogrammed the descent algorithm against my direct order. That is treason.”
    The hacker in Angela couldn’t think of a way that even the Alamo gurus could have traced the change back to her, so she decided to stand her ground. “I still have no clue what you’re talking about, but tell me, why the interest in Alpha-B, General?”
    Hastings’s eyes finally gravitated to her. “ That is classified.”
    Not for long, she thought, glad that she had loaded up those viruses into their tablets.
    â€œI not only have top secret security clearance, General, but I’m also read-in for Project Phoenix. There is nothing you can’t share with me about this program,” she replied, referring to the sensitive compartmented information clearance—commonly referred to simply as “read-in”—she held as lead scientist in the OSS project.
    â€œWell, you may be read-in for Phoenix, but you’re not cleared for this, Doctor. And since this is the United States military, I don’t need to explain anything to a civilian employee. You work for me and you didn’t do what you were clearly directed to do.”
    â€œThis is a highly scientific program, General. In fact, it is probably the most scientific program of our times, and in the scientific world, data trumps everything, even the opinions of people with higher pay grades than