Barnes & Noble
Published by: St. Martin’s Press
Release Date: December 28, 2004
Series: Standalone Novels
Made into a 2013 major motion picture starring Liam Hemsworth, Gary Oldman and Harrison Ford
Adam Cassidy is twenty-six and a low-level employee at a high-tech corporation who hates his job. When he manipulates the system to do something nice for a friend, he finds himself charged with a crime. Corporate Security gives him a choice: prison—or become a spy in the headquarters of their chief competitor, Trion Systems.
They train him. They feed him inside information. Now, at Trion, he’s a star, skyrocketing to the top. He finds he has talents he never knew he possessed. He’s rich, drives a Porsche, lives in a fabulous apartment, and works directly for the CEO. He’s dating the girl of his dreams.
His life is perfect. And all he has to do to keep it that way is betray everyone he cares about and everything he believes in.
But when he tries to break off from his controllers, he finds he’s in way over his head, trapped in a world in which nothing is as it seems and no one can really be trusted.
And then the real nightmare begins. . . .
"Fun . . .movie-ready . . . twists aplenty . . .the fear of seeing Cassidy exposed as a spy . . . provides more chills than any ghoul with a chain saw."
"Jet-propelled. . . this twisting, stealthily plotted story...weaves a tangled and ingeniously enveloping web...[with a] killer twist for the end."
—The New York Times
"There's a new John Grisham in town . . . Masterfully told and thoroughly engrossing."
—People Magazine, "Critics Choice"
"A built-for-speed thrill ride . . . Mr. Finder, who has written nonfiction about the intelligence world, brings an authoritative-seeming knowledge of trade-craft to his fast-paced, first-person tale of techno-espionage . . . edgy and knowing."
—The Wall Street Journal
Nicholas Wyatt was one scary dude. I had never met him before, but I’d seen him on TV, on CNBC, and on the corporate Web site, the video messages he’d recorded. I’d even caught a few glimpses of him, live, in my three years working for the company he founded. Up close he was even more intimidating. He had a deep tan, shoe polish-black hair that was gelled and combed straight back. His teeth were perfectly even and Vegas-white.
He was fifty-six but didn’t look it, whatever fifty-six is supposed to look like. Anyway, he sure didn’t look like my dad at fifty-six, a paunchy, balding old man even in his so-called prime. This was some other fifty-six.
I had no idea why he was here. What could the CEO of the company threaten me with that Meacham hadn’t already pulled out? Death by a thousand paper cuts? Being eaten alive by wild boar?