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“So the idea is, what? Blackmail these people when they grow up and reach positions of power?”
“This isn’t about extorting or embarrassing someone for something stupid they did as a child. We’re talking about knowing what that person fears. What that person values. What makes that person tick. That kind of window into the adult psyche starts by building a personal sentiment library in the formative years.”
“Let me guess: the more expressive a user is on social media, the more robust his or her personal sentiment library will be.”
“Yep.”
“And we all know that the more expressive user isn’t going to be a ‘him.’It’s a ‘her.’”
“That’s a fact. Teenage girls, especially, are way out in front of boys in sharing what the industry calls sentiment data.”
Kate was beginning to connect the final dots, but it wasn’t easy to say it. “After my mother died, I visited Sandra Levy to find out why she was trying to steal code. If I were to tell you she said she did it for her daughter, what would you say?”
“I’d say she told me the exact same thing.”
“When?”
“Right before she was arrested. She knew the FBI was closing in. She needed to line up someone on the inside to take the baton from her and stop Naïveté Two. She chose me.”
“How did she expect you to stop it?”
Patrick turned his gaze away from the window and looked at her directly. “Expose it. Give people hard proof of how their own government intends to handle the next generation of leaders. Make them understand how it would be even worse in the hands of a hostile nation.”
“Do you think Peel was on to you? Is that why he sent you to Colombia?”
“Probably. My only regret is getting your mother involved.”
The car entered the hotel motor court and stopped. “What did you just say?” asked Kate.
Patrick climbed out of the backseat. Kate followed him into the lobby and to the reception desk.
“Getting my mother involved inwhat?”
“This mess.”
The receptionist gave them an extra key to Enrique’s room, and Patrick started toward the elevator. Kate continued after him.
“Patrick, you’re not nine years old, and I’m not your teenage babysitter. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and walk off. Talk to me.”
He stopped midway through the lobby, looked at her, and spoke in a voice mixed with anger and apology—but the anger was at himself. “I screwed up, Kate.”
Kate wasn’t sure she could handle what he was trying to say, but this was Patrick, and she forced herself to be patient. “Tell me what it is. Nothing is unfixable.”
“It’s not that I wanted to hide anything from you. It’s like I’m figuring out I screwed up in real time—as I’m talking to you right now.”
Kate was about to lose it. “Patrick, just tell me.”
“I was in a tight spot,” he said. “To stop Naïveté Two, I needed the highest credentials in the company. I could think of only one way to get them.”
“You stole them?”
“‘Borrow’ was the word I used with your mother.”
“My mother never had any credentials to borrow.”
“I know. I figured that if your father’s mistress was able to access his credentials, so could his wife.”
Kate looked away in disbelief, then back. “There’s so much wrong with what you just said. First of all, my father didn’t have credentials to Naïveté Two. And Sandra Levy wasnothis mistress.”