“What do you think?” Turner asked Alfred.

After two days the guy should have found the leak.

Alfred pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned back in his chair. “The network is well protected. It’s one of the best protocols money can buy. We are either dealing with a super-hacker or an inside job. My bet is on the second one.”

Turner had been leaning toward this conclusion as well. Sandoval wasn’t going to like it. No one wanted to believe they had a traitor in their midst. Truth be told, though, Sandoval hadn’t been the target of the attack. Turner had. It was still a betrayal, but not as painful.

It was either a personal vendetta for whoever that guy Xavier was, or a test to gauge Sandoval’s reaction to an attack on another person in his network of close associates.

Except, after the nephew’s rescue which Turner had organized, and the deadly blow the kidnappers had suffered, there should have been at least some period of quiet. Once the rumors subsided, and the repercussions were forgotten, another organization of thugs might try something again.

It was the nature of the beast.

A massive show of force brought peace, but it lasted just as long as the losses were remembered.

Besides, Turner was a sub-contractor, not a member of Sandoval’s family. Arturo’s people needed to be checked. Andrew Spivak's lie-detector skills would have come in handy for a quick and efficient interrogation.

“What about tracing inter-network communications? Can you find out who could’ve been tapping Sandoval’s conversations from the inside?”

Alfred shook his head. “The network is not the only way to access communication. If we assume it was an inside job, then whoever did that could’ve been planning something for a while and planted well-hidden bugs. Sandoval would be smart to order a sweep of the place.”

“Good thinking.” Turner clapped the hacker on his back.

Alfred was a smart guy whose outside-the-box thinking wasn’t limited to computers. There might have been better hackers out there, but Alfred brought other skills to the table.

The computer room where Alfred worked was located in the sprawling mansion’s basement, protected by massive concrete walls that could withstand bombing from above and ground explosives. Turner hadn’t been granted access to the other rooms down below, but he could guess their uses. Some were luxurious shelters for Arturo and his family, others were probably holding cells for his enemies.

As Turner headed to Arturo’s office, he had to stop by the two goons guarding the thick door to the stairwell. The thing was not only fireproof but resistant to most explosives. Whoever wanted to get in when the thing was locked was better off blowing a hole in the wall.

There were no elevators. There was no need. Above ground, the mansion was only two stories high, and below there was only one sub-level. Besides, all the reinforcements Sandoval introduced to the place would have been rendered useless by an elevator shaft. It was a vulnerability he was better off without.

“What do you have for me, my friend?” Arturo pointed Turner to an armchair, then joined him, sitting in the other one.

It was a show of respect which Turner appreciated.

“Your protocol is sound. I believe that you’re dealing with an inside job. I suggest sweeping for bugs.”

If Sandoval were taken aback by Turner’s suggestion, he didn’t show it. There was very little the guy revealed unintentionally. The fatherly charm was a great façade for a ruthless politician.

Leaning closer to Turner, he smiled. “I had many bugs planted throughout my compound. Spying on my people is necessary for my survival.”

“I know about your bugs.” Turner was the one who had suggested them, but it seemed Sandoval thought it had been his idea and Victor wasn’t about to set him straight. “It makes it very easy for someone on your staff to add a few of their own.”

Smoothing his hand over his short beard, Sandoval leaned back. “That is true.” He looked around his office. “Not in here. I check the place myself every morning before I start my workday.”

“Some of them are so small I doubt you can find them.”

There was alarm in Sandoval’s eyes. “If this is so easy, why am I spending so much money on cybersecurity?”

“It’s very difficult to guard against insiders who have access to your offices, or even your private residence. I can refer you to someone who can install additional hardware to detect unauthorized transmissions, but even that is not foolproof. If the goal is to listen in on you and your dealings and maybe record a few conversations, no outside transmission is necessary.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“We can start by sweeping this office. I’ll show you what to look for, and you can continue in other rooms or have people you trust do that.”

Sandoval waved a hand. “I don’t trust anyone. There isn’t a single person who can’t be either bought or blackmailed or threatened.”

He should know. Sandoval probably did all three on a regular basis.

“Then you have to do it yourself. Which, frankly, I would’ve made my standard operating protocol. Choose one room to conduct business from and check it every morning like you do now.”

“What about my staff?”

“Instruct them to watch what they are saying and to whom. Most of what they do is legit.” Turner smiled coldly. “The rest gets outsourced.”

“True.” Sandoval smoothed his hand over his beard again. “Not that I know what you’re talking about.” He winked.

“Of course. I’ll come back tomorrow morning, and we will clean up this office.”

Arturo chuckled. “I haven’t done any cleaning up since my college days. I have maids to do that.”

“You need to screen them too, and not based on how hot they look in the uniforms you make them wear.”

The man didn’t go as far as cladding his service staff in naughty French maid costumes, but the uniforms weren’t the standard issue either. They were formfitting in a way that must’ve made working in them uncomfortable, but the length was modest, coming to just above the knee, and there was no cleavage showing. After all, Sandoval had a wife and three teenage daughters living in the house, and a reputation to keep up. Not that fidelity was valued in these parts, the opposite was true, but keeping appearances did matter.

“Why not now?” Sandoval waved a hand at his sprawling office.

The place was bug heaven, with almost limitless potential for concealment. The plush couch with matching armchairs, the heavy drapery bordered with tassels, the elaborately carved frames, the tapestries. It would take an entire day to go over every inch of wall, fabric, and furniture.

Turner wasn’t looking forward to it.

It was a tedious job that should have been relegated to underlings. Except, he’d already committed himself and couldn’t back down.

“It will take several hours. Are you sure you don’t want to assign it to someone who has proven trustworthy? I’m sure there must be more than one staff member who qualifies.”

Sandoval shook his head. “Maybe for the other rooms, but not this one. Knowledge is power, my friend, and the more I can learn the better. I have no aptitude for computers and no time to become an expert, but I can dedicate one day to learning how to exterminate bugs, and I can’t think of anyone more qualified to teach me than you.”