Dragon: Out of the Box (The Girl in the Box Book 37) Read online

  DRAGON: OUT OF THE BOX 27

  The Girl in the Box, Book 37

  ROBERT J. CRANE

  Ostiagard Press

  DRAGON

  The Girl in the Box, Book 37

  (Out of the Box, Book 27)

  Robert J. Crane

  Copyright © 2019 Ostiagard Press

  All Rights Reserved.

  1st Edition.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part without the written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, please email [email protected].

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Epilogue

  Teaser

  Bibliography/Afterword

  Author’s Note

  Other Works by Robert J. Crane

  Acknowledgments

  PROLOGUE

  Jaime Chapman

  Mountain View, California

  The ink was drying, the deal was done, and the handshakes were being exchanged. Jaime Chapman couldn't imagine himself being any happier unless Gwen had been here.

  Smiling for the cameras hurt. Not a big smiler, Jaime nonetheless plastered one on his face and steeled himself against the seemingly endless flashes. Everyone was here – the Times, the Post, the Washington Free Press, plus every single nightly news, cable channel, and even a ton of internet outfits like Davey Kory's Flashforce. The phosphorescent bursts hurt Jaime's eyes, too, had him running his palm over the smooth grain of the conference table's wood. He gripped the sleek plastic of the pen they'd done the signing with. It was like his security blanket in the face of the flashbulbs, the cell phone cameras.

  “In China,” Wu Huang said, leaning over to whisper in Jaime's ear, his hand still gripping Jaime's tightly, “this would be smaller, more organized. One outlet, not this many. And we would be done by now.” Huang was in his forties, a touch of steel color lacing through his otherwise black hair, cheeks puffy and wide, fixed in a smile as his eyes glittered with slightly less amusement than the smile would indicate.

  “In America we have to feed the beast,” Jaime said, keeping that smile going as the flashbulbs continued to assail his eyes. Sensory overload was not far off, but he'd learned to manage it. The CEO of the largest tech company in the world couldn't just collapse under the weight of his neuroses, after all. That'd be bad for the stock price. “Still...” He raised his voice. “All right, people, that's enough trying to trigger latent epilepsy for a few minutes.”

  That prompted a laugh from the reporters in attendance.

  “Mr. Chapman!” Chapman blinked through the purple spots in his vision to squint at the reporter. They'd planned to take questions in the next room, in a few minutes, but leave it to the nimrod from Flashforce to try and squeeze one in early. “What led you to this deal?”

  Well, at least it was a good question. And he had a perfect, boilerplate answer for it. “We've long wanted to increase our business ties to China,” Chapman said, hitting the bullet points, “and when Mr. Huang came to us with this proposal, it just made sense. He gets to become one of the largest stakeholders in our business, and we get to roll out Socialite in China starting next year. Over a billion potential new users,” now Chapman's smile was real, “with a FindIt search engine product specifically tailored to China to follow shortly thereafter. Instaphoto, Cash-fer, our entire portfolio of companies will all be entering the largest market in the world, bringing Silicon Valley engineering to the most populous country in the world.” He hit the talking points with gusto, because this deal was a slam-dunk, no brainer. Selling a little bit of his equity to Huang and then facilitating him buying shares on the open market to make him the second largest shareholder in exchange for nearly-full access to Chinese markets?

  Only an idiot wouldn't take that deal. And Jaime Chapman was no idiot.

  “Mr. Huang?” The question came from a slightly older, more grizzled-looking reporter. Looked like he'd been on the beat awhile. “How do you respond to allegations that your company is backed and owned by the Chinese government?”

  Chapman felt his blood go cold. “I'm sorry, we're not meant to be taking questions right n–”

  “It's fine.” Huang held up a han
d to stay him. Still, there was a tightness around Huang's eyes that suggested he was not entirely pleased to receive the question. “I have long enjoyed good relations with the party and the Chinese government, which allows this merger to be advantageous for all parties. I hope to facilitate a new level of cooperation between our countries, with better understanding through our greater business and technological ties.”

  “Thank you,” Jaime said, cutting off the next volley of questions. Eight reporters tried, but he and Huang turned away, flashbulbs ringing out madly in the conference room.

  “I hate your press,” Huang said as the PR people herded the reporters out the door.

  “They're a bunch of filthy savages,” Chapman agreed. His phone was buzzing in his pocket, and he fished it out to take a look, frowning when he saw the screen.

  IT'S TIME TO PLAY!

  “If you'll excuse me for just a moment...” Jaime said.

  “Quickly, first,” Huang said, catching him by the elbow. “I have several engineers from my company ready to start interfacing with yours so we can start design on the China-specific products.”

  “Right, right,” Chapman said, feeling the pull of his phone. The Network was meeting, and he was going to miss it if he didn't get away soon.

  “I'd like to 'get the ball rolling,'” Huang said, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes, “with your Lineage affiliate.”

  Chapman held in a frown. Lineage? He'd bought that company on a whim, a DNA testing and family tree tech company that he'd tried, unsuccessfully, to mate with Socialite's capabilities and data. It had led to some embarrassing viral stories about unknown siblings that were the product of infidelity suddenly being contacted through Socialite. It had spawned a couple heart-warming puff pieces, too, but the bad had outweighed the good and he'd scuttled the integration plans. It wasn't a core competency of Socialite, he'd decided, so now Lineage just sat there on his balance sheet, making a few bucks for the company and that was about it. “Sure,” he said. “I'll clear your people for full access to the product right away, just get their names to my assistant.”

  “Excellent,” Huang said, and now he settled into a much more easy smile, that little flash in his eyes gone. “I think this is going be a fruitful partnership.”

  “I agree,” Jaime said, with a smile of his own. “Now if you'll excuse me...”

  “Absolutely.” Huang nodded and left him, barking at one of his assistants in Mandarin.

  Jaime keyed in his password quickly, flipping right to the Escapade app and jumping in mid-conversation. For security reasons, Chapman's people made it so only the most recent ten lines of text were retained, the rest immediately deleted from the secure network it traveled on and stored absolutely nowhere on the internet. The app even disabled the screenshot function during use, as a precaution.

  RUSS BILSON: I'd like you all to welcome our newest member, Chris Byrd! I'm sure you've all heard of him. Chris's politics and news forum is watched by the people who matter most in Washington.

  Chapman snorted. Byrd had the lowest rated evening show on cable news, but Bilson wasn't wrong – it was watched by more congressional staffers and politicians than any other, mostly because it was the most inside-baseball show on DC's inner workings out there. Not meant to feed the proles outside the beltway, it catered to the Acela corridor. That was something, but still...being in last place after CNN in the cable news rankings was a special sort of hilarious to Chapman.

  HEATHER CHALKE: Welcome, Chris.

  TYRUS FLANAGAN: Welcome.

  DAVE KORY: Glad to have you.

  Chapman rolled his eyes as the salutations filled the screen, not bothering to add an anodyne greeting of his own. It'd be lost in the shuffle in any case, and he was indifferent to Byrd's entry to the group. His philosophy was that there ought to be a reason to add anybody. Byrd's influence seemed limited to him, but maybe he'd be of more use to the DC based members, like Chalke and Bilson. Chapman couldn't imagine much use for the cable TV host. In terms of their press contacts, he ranked behind Kory's Flashforce or Johannsen's Free Press in his view.

  CHRIS BYRD: Hey u guys russ told me things were lit AF in here so glad to be part of the team

  Chapman cringed. Didn't it just figure that Byrd's typing would fit neatly into the “Aging Boomer, bereft of texting skills” style.

  Whatever. He turned, keeping the app open on the off chance something interesting emerged, but took a moment to survey the boardroom, thinking about what he'd wrought today.

  New access to China in a way that no US tech company had ever managed. An inside track via Huang to the Chinese government, and a chance to develop inside that market with their tacit approval. It would deliver billions in market cap to his stock, and already the alerts were pinging to his phone showing him that, yes, Wall Street liked – no, loved – this deal.

  It was a crowning triumph in his business career, which had been replete with doing things no one had ever done before. Dethroning tech giants that had captured first-mover advantage. Making deals in countries few others could.

  The only downside was that it was too bad Gwen couldn't be here to witness it. That was the life of busy CEOs, though. He could sympathize, her being up to her eyeballs in some project or another, but still, it bothered him a little. He was about to become the world's richest man, thanks to this, and she was off piddling with her cute little startup. Sure, he'd been there – the constant grinds of programming, checking, debugging, managerial business – but now he was in a much more elevated position. Other people handled that low-grade bullshit.

  Maybe her startup would go belly up, he sometimes secretly wished. Then he could hire her to do something here, with him. That way he could see her every day instead of this catch-as-can bullshit her work schedule currently provided.

  “Mr. Chapman?” One of the PR people called to him, quiet, respectful – but urgent.

  “Right,” Chapman said, forcing that smile back onto his face. Not the real one, from when he thought of Gwen. The fake one, the one that wouldn't fade as he concentrated back on the job at hand – publicizing this new venture to the whole world.

  CHAPTER ONE

  One Month Later

  Yorkshire, Virginia

  The coffee in Cathy Jang-Peters's tumbler was warm and good, and almost made this drive tolerable. It was certainly necessary, she reflected, blotting at her eyes delicately with a dark sleeve of her jacket, avoiding smearing her makeup but dabbing at the sleepiness pushing her lids down. It was just after 5:30 in the morning, after all, a damned uncivilized hour to be on the road.

  Blinking as the rural scenery of Virginia State Road 28 passed her by, green fields covered in the darkness of lingering night broken by the occasional tree. Cathy Jang-Peters took a sip of her coffee. The tumbler was good, solid, and a cold brew lingered within. Her husband had made it for her starting the day before, giving the grounds time to seep into the filtered water. It was less acidic than hot coffee, and he made it with some fancy stuff she didn't really pay much attention to. It was good, though, and smooth, and she could drink it right away as she walked out the door of their Manassas home in the mornings with nothing but a kiss and the tumbler to speed her on her way.