Meeting with Léa

In this chapter, Alex finds himself drawn into a mysterious and tension-filled encounter at a Parisian café where he meets Léa, a woman deeply entangled in the complexities of time travel and hunted

The sun began to dip, painting the Parisian skyline with hues of orange and purple as Alex stepped into a small café, a refuge from the cool evening air. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the scent of baked pastries, enveloping him in a comforting embrace that momentarily eased his anxious thoughts.

The café buzzed with chatter, the clinking of cups on saucers punctuating conversations. Patrons lounged in their seats, some engrossed in newspapers, others engaged in animated discussions. Alex scanned the room for a vacant table, his gaze sweeping across the cozy interior.

That's when he saw her.

Across the room, nestled in a corner booth, sat a woman whose presence seemed to carve out an oasis of calm amidst the commotion. She cradled a cup of coffee in her hands but hadn't taken a sip, her attention fixed on the entrance with an intensity that suggested anticipation�"or apprehension.

Her attire was a blend of professional and casual; a tailored blazer draped over a simple blouse, hinting at formality yet tempered by the relaxed fit of her dress. It was her posture, though�"upright yet not rigid�"that hinted at an undercurrent of readiness, as if she were prepared to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Alex felt an inexplicable draw towards her. Maybe it was the way she seemed so distinctly attuned to her surroundings or how she appeared simultaneously present and distant. She was an enigma wrapped in the ordinary�"a quality Alex found both familiar and intriguing.

He maneuvered through the café, claiming a table with a clear line of sight to her. Pretending to settle in, he watched discreetly as people entered and exited. Each time the door opened, she lifted her eyes with a spark of expectation that quickly dimmed when she didn't find whoever�"or whatever�"she was waiting for.

Her eyes finally met his; there was no shock or discomfort, just an acknowledgment and then disinterest as she returned to her vigil. Yet something lingered in that brief exchange�"a recognition that they were both anomalies in this temporal tapestry.

Alex's curiosity swelled within him. He had come looking for someone who could potentially help him understand his predicament. Was it mere coincidence that led him to this café or something more? He pondered his next move carefully, aware that this first encounter could alter the course of his unplanned journey through time.

Alex watched as Léa slipped out of the booth, her movements fluid and purposeful. He leaned back, feigning disinterest, while his senses sharpened. She made her way to the entrance, pausing only to cast a final sweeping gaze over the café's interior. Satisfied with whatever silent confirmation she sought, she exited into the cool embrace of the evening.

He waited a beat, his instincts urging him to follow. Alex unfolded himself from the chair with casual ease and stepped outside, his eyes immediately finding Léa at a payphone under a flickering streetlight. Her back was to him, her stance guarded as she spoke into the receiver.

Alex drifted closer, his footsteps lost in the city's ambient hum. The shadows played at his advantage, allowing him to close in without drawing attention. The fragments of her conversation that reached him rode on the breeze, elusive yet laden with meaning.

"...must secure it before they..."

The words were cautious whispers snatched away by passing cars and chatter from nearby pedestrians. Alex edged nearer, straining to piece together the puzzle.

"...time is running out," Léa continued, her voice a murmur wrapped in urgency.

A shiver ran down Alex's spine�"not from the chill in the air but from the resonance of those words with his own experience. He sidled up to a newspaper stand adjacent to the payphone, pretending to peruse the headlines while eavesdropping.

"...the machine can't fall into their hands," she insisted into the phone. "It's not just about what it can do; it's about what it means for all of us."

The machine? Alex's heart quickened its pace. She had to be referring to the IBM 5100�"the very device that had catapulted him through time.

He dared another step closer, pretending to fumble for change as he strained to catch more of Léa's conversation.

"Time... it's unpredictable... paradoxes..." Her voice dropped lower still, threading through layers of city noise.

A chill traced Alex's spine. The pieces clicked together�"a physicist speaking of time and machines; it couldn't be mere coincidence. She was connected to this temporal riddle more than he had initially suspected.

Léa hung up abruptly and scanned her surroundings. Alex ducked behind the newspaper stand, his heart pounding not just from fear of discovery but from an electrifying sense of connection with this mysterious woman who held clues to his impossible situation.

Léa replaced the receiver with a click that echoed down the emptying street. She paused, her gaze lost in thought, then turned sharply on her heel and disappeared into the Parisian twilight. Alex emerged from his hiding spot behind the newspaper stand, a jumble of questions swirling in his mind. He had to speak with her, to confirm his suspicions about her knowledge of the IBM 5100 and its capabilities.

But as he took a step forward, a glint of light caught his eye. There, on the narrow shelf beneath the payphone, lay a forgotten folder, the corners slightly curled from use. Léa had left it behind in her haste.

Alex approached the payphone tentatively. His fingers brushed against the folder's cool surface before he lifted it, half-expecting Léa to return at any moment to claim it. But the street remained quiet, save for the distant murmur of traffic and nightlife.

He flipped open the cover. Inside were pages filled with handwritten notes, complex equations scrawled alongside diagrams that made his pulse quicken. Lines and curves intersected in ways that mirrored the abstract concepts he'd seen hidden within the IBM 5100's cryptic files.

The sketches were meticulous�"a web of scientific understanding that Alex recognized as more than theoretical musings. They spoke of practical applications, of harnessing principles that most considered speculative at best.

As he turned a page, his eyes landed on a diagram that made his breath catch�"a representation of time not as a straight line but as a spiral, looping back upon itself. It was an image he had seen before, etched into one of the hidden files on the IBM 5100.

The notes beside it were dense with jargon yet betrayed an urgency that resonated with Alex's own desperation. They spoke of temporal stability and potential fractures, hinting at an understanding of time travel that dovetailed with his accidental leap into the past.

He glanced up from the folder once more, scanning the area for any sign of Léa's return. The street was still devoid of her presence; it seemed she had yet to notice her loss.

Alex tucked the folder under his arm, feeling its weight like a talisman against the uncertainty that lay ahead. He knew he couldn't keep it�"not when its rightful owner might hold the answers to his predicament�"but for now, it was a link to Léa and the secrets she harbored about time travel and perhaps about how he could find his way back home.

Under the ghostly glow of the streetlights, Alex retraced his steps, the folder's contents a heavy secret against his chest. The café loomed ahead, its windows fogged with warmth and laughter that seemed a world away from the cold enigma of the streets. He hesitated at the threshold, scanning the dim interior for Léa's distinctive silhouette.

There she was, back in her corner booth, her eyes darting across the room with an intensity that betrayed her inner turmoil. Alex swallowed the knot in his throat and stepped inside, feeling every eye on him as he crossed the room with measured strides.

"Excuse me," Alex began, his voice barely above the murmur of conversations around them. "You left this at the payphone."

Léa's gaze snapped up to meet his, a flicker of recognition passing through her before her expression shuttered into cautious neutrality. She took the folder from him, her fingers brushing against his in a brief, electric contact.

"Thank you," she said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a flash of surprise. "I didn't realize I had dropped it."

The folder safely in her possession once more, a silence settled between them�"a void filled with unasked questions and unsaid truths. Alex shifted on his feet, aware of the precariousness of their impromptu meeting.

"If you don't mind my asking," Alex ventured, curiosity edging out caution. "Your notes... they're about time theories, aren't they?"

Léa regarded him with a measured gaze that seemed to weigh his intentions. She closed the folder slowly, as if considering how much to reveal.

"They might be," she replied noncommittally. "Why? Are you interested in physics?"

"In a way," Alex conceded with a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's just say I have... a practical interest in time right now."

The hint of shared understanding passed between them like a clandestine signal. Léa tilted her head slightly, assessing him anew.

"A practical interest?" she echoed thoughtfully. "That sounds quite intriguing."

"It is," Alex affirmed, feeling the gravity of their conversation pull them into an orbit of mutual curiosity and caution.

Their eyes locked for a charged moment before Léa glanced away, breaking the connection as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She gestured to the seat opposite her with an air of reluctant hospitality.

"Would you care to join me?" Léa offered, her voice smooth yet underscored by wariness. "Perhaps we can discuss your... interests further."

Alex nodded and slid into the booth across from her, acutely aware that this encounter was no mere chance. As he settled into his seat, he prepared himself for the delicate dance of revelation and concealment that lay ahead.

The hum of the café faded into a soft backdrop as Léa and Alex sat across from each other, their exchange tentative yet laced with a current of unspoken urgency. She studied his face, taking in the genuine perplexity that flickered across his features whenever his gaze wandered to the patrons chatting on rotary phones or to the outdated posters adorning the walls.

Léa leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. "You seem... out of place," she remarked, her voice low and steady.

Alex let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I guess you could say I'm not exactly from around here."

A hint of amusement touched the corners of Léa's mouth, but it didn't reach her eyes. They remained vigilant, scanning for signs of deceit or danger. "And where is 'around here' for you?"

Alex hesitated, weighing his words. The truth was outlandish, impossible even by his own understanding. But Léa's presence here�"her notes and her guarded demeanor�"suggested she might be one of the few people capable of grasping his predicament.

"I'm from 2024," he said quietly, watching for her reaction.

For a moment, there was silence as Léa processed his words. Then she leaned back in her seat, her expression unreadable. "That's quite a claim," she said after a pause. "Do you have any proof?"

Alex shook his head. "Nothing that would make sense in this time," he admitted. "But I can tell you things about the future�"about technology and events that haven't happened yet."

Léa considered him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright," she conceded. "Let's assume for a moment that what you're saying is true. What do you plan to do now?"

"That's just it," Alex replied, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "I don't have a plan. I don't even know how I got here�"or how to get back."

There was an air of vulnerability about him that tugged at Léa's cautious exterior. She recognized the signs of someone thrust into an environment they couldn't comprehend; it was a look she'd seen before in the mirror after her own encounters with the inexplicable.

She sighed softly, glancing around the café before returning her focus to Alex. Her voice was firm yet not unkind as she spoke.

"Alright, Alex from 2024," Léa began, "I'll help you navigate this era�"for now." She extended her hand across the table; it was an offer of truce rather than trust.

He met her halfway, clasping her hand in a firm shake that sealed their reluctant alliance. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Just remember," Léa added as they released their handshake, "we're both walking on thin ice here."

A clatter at the café door cut through the burgeoning camaraderie between Léa and Alex. A stout man in a trench coat stepped inside, his eyes scanning the interior with a predatory sharpness. Léa's posture stiffened; her hand, which had just moments ago offered an alliance, now gripped the edge of the table with white-knuckled tension.

The man's gaze landed on their booth, and a glint of recognition flashed across his features. He began to weave through the tables toward them, his steps deliberate and unwavering.

Léa leaned in, her voice a whisper taut with urgency. "That's one of them�"one of the Organization's enforcers."

Alex's mind raced. His initial thought was to flee, but he quashed it, trusting Léa's next move.

She drew a deep breath and composed her expression into one of casual indifference. As the man approached, she offered him a cool nod. "Monsieur Gagnon," she greeted him with feigned warmth.

The man�"Gagnon�"halted beside their booth, his eyes flickering between Léa and Alex. "Dr. Dupont," he acknowledged with a curt nod to Léa before turning his scrutiny to Alex. "And who is this?"

Léa's response came swiftly, her tone threaded with confidence. "This is Alexandre�"a distant acquaintance from my university days." She gave Alex a sideways glance, signaling him to play along.

"Alexandre," Gagnon repeated, testing the name as if searching for flaws in its fabric. He extended his hand to Alex in greeting, though the gesture felt more like an appraisal than a pleasantry.

Alex shook Gagnon's hand, offering a polite smile while maintaining a neutral demeanor. "Just passing through Paris," he said, injecting his voice with nonchalance.

Gagnon's gaze lingered on Alex for an uncomfortable beat before returning to Léa. "I didn't realize you kept company with your former classmates," he remarked dryly.

"Occasionally," Léa replied with an air of disinterest. "Old connections can be useful in our line of work."

Gagnon nodded slowly, though it was clear he wasn't entirely convinced. He let out a soft huff that could have been amusement or derision�"it was difficult to tell.

"Well," Gagnon said after a moment, "I'll leave you to your reunion then." His eyes bored into Léa's one last time before he turned on his heel and departed as abruptly as he'd arrived.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Léa exhaled sharply, her shoulders sagging ever so slightly in relief. She met Alex's eyes across the table�"a silent acknowledgment of the danger they had narrowly evaded together.

Léa's eyes held a trace of steel as the door closed behind Gagnon. Her gaze shifted back to Alex, locking onto him with an intensity that seemed to bridge the gap between their separate worlds.

"We can't afford slip-ups like that," she murmured, her voice low and steady. "The Organization has eyes everywhere, and they're not known for their mercy."

Alex nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. The close call had shaken him, peeled back a layer of naivety he hadn't realized he'd been wearing since his arrival in 1975.

Léa continued, her hands folded in front of her as if to gather her thoughts. "If we're going to survive this�"especially you, out of your element�"we need to trust each other."

"Trust is a tall order under these circumstances," Alex admitted, his brow furrowing. He was still reeling from the revelation that the very fabric of time was at stake.

"It's not just about survival," Léa said. "It's about understanding what we're up against. You have knowledge from the future, I have my research and... past experiences with them."

Alex leaned in, drawn by the hint of personal history in her words. "You've dealt with the Organization before?"

Léa hesitated, a shadow crossing her face. "Let's just say our paths have crossed." She took a deep breath and met his gaze squarely. "But that's a conversation for another time. Right now, we need to focus on the IBM 5100 and what it represents."

Alex could see the resolve etched into Léa's features�"the set of her jaw, the slight narrowing of her eyes. It was clear she had fought battles before, perhaps ones not so different from what lay ahead.

He reached a decision then, propelled by the understanding that this partnership�"this tenuous bond forming between them�"was his best chance at navigating this unfamiliar past.

"I'm with you," Alex said simply. "You know this time period; you know what we're up against with the Organization. I'll follow your lead."

Léa regarded him for a moment longer before nodding slowly. The gesture wasn't one of agreement so much as acknowledgment�"a recognition that their fates were now intertwined.

"Good," she replied. "Because if we're going to protect the IBM 5100 and keep it from being exploited... we can't afford any cracks in our alliance."

Their eyes held for a silent moment�"a moment that marked the beginning of a bond forged not out of friendship but necessity, in the shadows of an uncertain time with an enemy lurking just out of sight.

In the dimly lit corner of the café, a subtle tension hung in the air, a blend of musty tobacco and whispered secrets. Alex slid the IBM 5100 documentation across the table toward Léa, his movements cautious yet deliberate. The papers, worn at the edges from his constant handling, fanned out like an offering�"an invitation to bridge the gap between their disparate expertise.

Léa reached out, her fingers grazing the documents with a reverence reserved for relics. She scanned the pages, her eyes alight with a fusion of curiosity and recognition. "You brought this with you from... your time?" Her voice was a mix of awe and skepticism.

"Yeah," Alex confirmed, watching her closely. "I had a hunch it might be important." His voice trailed off as he observed her absorption in the material.

As she poured over the technical schematics and programming notes, Léa's expression shifted from professional scrutiny to grudging admiration. "This is beyond anything we have now," she murmured, almost to herself. "It's as if it's speaking a language I've always known but never heard aloud."

Alex leaned back in his seat, giving her space to digest the information. He understood that feeling all too well�"the sense of connection to something intangible and revolutionary. It was what had drawn him to the IBM 5100 in the first place.

After several minutes of silence punctuated only by the soft rustle of paper, Léa set the documentation aside and reached into her own bag. She withdrew a stack of notes bound by a simple rubber band and pushed them toward Alex.

"This is my work," she began, her tone tinged with vulnerability as she revealed her own theoretical studies into time. "It's not complete, and it's certainly not concrete evidence by any scientific standard�"but it's what I've dedicated my life to understanding."

Alex picked up the stack with equal parts curiosity and respect. The first few pages were dense with equations that made his head spin�"Léa's handwriting meticulous as it charted unknown territories of physics.

"These theories," Alex started, pointing to a particularly complex diagram depicting time as a series of interconnected loops, "they look similar to some concepts I've come across in computer science�"about non-linear progression and recursive functions."

Léa nodded eagerly, leaning forward as if their proximity could hasten comprehension. "Exactly! If we apply those principles to temporal mechanics..." Her words trailed off as she gestured animatedly over her notes.

Together they delved deeper into their exchange of knowledge, Léa's theories weaving through Alex's understanding of advanced programming like strands of DNA forming a new lifeform�"a lifeform that could potentially unravel or safeguard time itself.

The more they shared, the more pieces fell into place; two halves of an enigmatic puzzle converging through their dialogue. As they spoke, they became architects of an understanding that transcended their individual capabilities�"an understanding that could be key in countering the Organization's shadowy agenda.

In the hushed tones of conspirators, they dissected diagrams and formulas, their words weaving a tapestry of thought and theory. The IBM 5100 sat between them like a silent arbiter, its presence a constant reminder of the stakes at play.

Léa's hand brushed against Alex's as she pointed to a line of code that seemed out of place. "Do you see this? It's as if it's meant to alter the parameters of..." Her voice trailed off as she realized their proximity. She retracted her hand but not her gaze, locked onto Alex with an intensity that belied more than professional interest.

Alex felt the heat where her skin had met his, an unexpected jolt that resonated deeper than mere physical contact. He cleared his throat, focusing on the line she indicated. "Yes, it's almost like a key... a key to unlock..."

"The fabric of time," Léa finished for him, her eyes still holding his. There was an excitement in her voice that matched the fervor in his own chest�"a shared passion for unraveling mysteries that was as potent as any physical attraction.

Their eyes remained locked, and in that gaze, there was an unspoken understanding that they were on the cusp of something monumental. It wasn't just about the IBM 5100 or the secrets it held; it was about two minds connecting over a puzzle that had ensnared them both.

The intensity of the moment hung between them, a tangible charge in the air. Léa's lips parted slightly as if she were about to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she reached for her notes again, her movements more deliberate this time.

Alex watched her, appreciating the sharpness of her intellect as much as the curve of her jaw when she concentrated. The pull he felt towards her was no longer just intellectual curiosity�"it was something deeper, a kindling of admiration and attraction fueled by their mutual obsession.

Léa glanced up from her notes and caught Alex's gaze once more. There was a flicker of something in her eyes�"a recognition of the tension that had grown between them. She smiled then, not just with her mouth but with her eyes too, and it was like a signal flare illuminating new possibilities.

"For someone from the future," she said softly, "you have a remarkable ability to make this moment feel timeless."

Alex returned her smile with one of his own. "And for someone so grounded in physics," he responded with equal softness, "you have an uncanny way of making time stand still."

Their laughter mingled then, a light moment that eased the gravity of their situation. As they leaned over the papers once more, shoulder to shoulder in their shared quest, there was an undeniable spark�"a connection rooted in passion for their work that now extended beyond it.

The patter of rain against the café windows provided a steady rhythm to their clandestine meeting. Alex noticed Léa's fingers drumming in sync with the rainfall, a silent symphony that only seemed to heighten his sense of foreboding.

They had been discussing the potential applications of the IBM 5100 when Léa's demeanor shifted. Her usual composed self was replaced by a jittery edge, her gaze darting to the door with each new patron's entrance.

Alex leaned back in his chair, observing her carefully. "You seem on edge," he ventured, his voice low enough not to carry. "More than usual."

Léa glanced at him, her expression a well-rehearsed mask of nonchalance that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's nothing," she replied, a little too quickly. "Just being cautious."

But Alex wasn't convinced. He'd seen the way Léa's hand had trembled ever so slightly when she pointed out a line of code earlier�"like she'd touched something scalding instead of mere ink on paper.

"You know something about this computer, don't you?" he pressed, locking eyes with her. "Something you're not telling me."

Léa opened her mouth to respond but hesitated. In that brief pause, Alex caught a glimpse of turmoil beneath her guarded exterior.

"It's complicated," she finally said, and Alex heard the strain in her voice.

"Time travel tends to be," he replied dryly, trying to coax more out of her.

She exhaled slowly, and for a moment, he thought she might reveal more about her past encounters with the Organization or her true connection to the IBM 5100. Instead, she collected herself and switched topics.

"We should focus on the next steps," Léa suggested, steering away from the treacherous waters of confession.

But Alex couldn't shake his concern or his curiosity. There was a story there�"one that could potentially change everything about their precarious situation. Her reluctance to speak only served to underscore the risks they faced�"not just from the Organization but perhaps from secrets yet untold.

As they continued to discuss their plans, Alex watched Léa with an increased wariness. Each time she glanced over her shoulder or flinched at an unexpected noise, it reinforced his growing suspicion that there was much more at stake than he'd initially believed.

The intrigue and tension between them stretched like a tightrope�"a delicate balance that could give way under the weight of hidden truths. And as the rain outside intensified into a torrential downpour, so too did Alex's resolve to uncover what lay behind Léa's skittish behavior�"whatever the cost.

Rain lashed against the windowpanes, a symphony to the mounting tension that buzzed in the café. Léa's fingers paused their rhythmic dance on the tabletop, her eyes catching and holding Alex's insistent gaze. 

"I've had encounters with them before," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Organization has always been interested in...unconventional research." She let out a hollow laugh, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "My work, it seems, has drawn their attention more than once."

Alex leaned forward, his interest piqued by the note of gravity in her voice. "What kind of attention are we talking about?"

Her eyes flicked to the side, focusing on anything but his probing stare. "Surveillance at first," she started, hesitantly. "I noticed anomalies in my lab�"equipment moved, notes rifled through�"and then it escalated."

"Escalated how?" The urgency in Alex's voice mirrored the clatter of raindrops hammering the glass.

Léa met his gaze again, this time with a resilience that seemed to harden her features. "Break-ins at my home," she said. "Threats left for me to find... They're not just interested in scaring me off; they want what I know." Her hands were clenched now, knuckles whitening.

Alex felt a chill run down his spine. He thought of the IBM 5100, its potential power and mystery nestled within its circuitry. It was more than just a relic of computing history; it was a beacon for danger.

"And now they know about the IBM 5100," Alex murmured, connecting the dots.

"Yes." Léa's voice was a mere breath as she confirmed his fears. "I believe they think it's key to something monumental�"something I might have inadvertently hinted at in my own research."

Alex absorbed her words, his mind racing with implications. The stakes were higher than he'd imagined�"much higher. They were not merely dodging shadows; they were up against an entity that would stop at nothing to seize control of time itself.

A heavy silence settled between them as they both considered their next move. It was clear now that their journey was entwined with risks far greater than either had anticipated. Léa's revelation had not only exposed her past but had also cast a foreboding light on their shared future.

As he looked into Léa's eyes�"eyes that held untold stories of fear and defiance�"Alex knew that their alliance had become their lifeline in this fight against an unseen foe whose reach extended further than either could see.

Léa's gaze darted to the window, where the rain had turned from a torrent to a menacing drizzle. She seemed to be listening for something beyond the patter of water on glass, something that Alex couldn't hear. Her next words came out rushed, slicing through the quiet murmur of the café.

"I have to go," she said abruptly, gathering her notes with hurried movements.

Alex's heart quickened. "Go? Now? But we're just getting somewhere."

She glanced up at him, her eyes conveying an urgency that bordered on fear. "It's not safe," she insisted. "They might be watching. The less you know about my movements, the better."

He watched as she stuffed her papers into her bag, each movement deliberate despite her haste. The weight of their conversation settled on his shoulders like a lead cloak.

"But we need to plan our next steps," Alex protested, his voice low and insistent.

Léa paused, locking eyes with him. "I'll contact you," she promised, her tone final. "Keep the IBM 5100 safe and stay alert."

With that, she stood up from their small table, which moments ago had been a battleground of wits and secrets. Now it felt like an abandoned fortress, too silent and exposed. Léa reached into the depths of her pocket and pulled out a wad of currency, which she pushed across the table toward Alex. Despite his initial reluctance, she insisted on him taking it, reinforcing that the money was essential for the unforeseen expenses he might encounter.

Alex rose to his feet, his objections rising but falling short as Léa began to distance herself, declaring that their next encounter would be the following day in the park behind the café. She navigated between the groups of tables heading for the exit. All he could do was observe as she drew her coat closely around herself and vanished into the subdued Parisian daylight beyond the doorway.

The door closed behind her with a soft click that echoed in Alex's ears long after she was gone. He sank back into his seat, feeling suddenly isolated amidst the café's patrons who carried on with their conversations and coffee as if nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

Alex stared at the spot where Léa had been sitting moments before, her presence lingering like a ghostly afterimage. Her warning reverberated in his mind�"'keep the IBM 5100 safe'�"and he understood that their alliance was now a solitary pact.

He sat alone at the table with only his thoughts for company�"thoughts that churned with questions about Léa's past encounters with the Organization and what dangers lay ahead for them both. As he contemplated the enigma that was Léa Dupont and the shadowy reach of the Organization, he couldn't shake off a growing sense of trepidation about what was to come.

Author's Note

Give me honest critics for my first book. Thanks