Bloodshot - Cherie Priest [113]
“Yup. And he uses similar groups in Seattle to recruit. This one advertises that it comes with soldier oversight in the form of Tyler Bolton, a lieutenant with somebody or another—they aren’t too clear on the website as to who, precisely, he lieutenants.”
Adrian made a harrumphing noise and said, “Tyler Bolton. What a name.”
“I know, right? It’s almost worse than Trevor,” I mused aloud. “Regardless, we’re going.”
“We?” Ian asked. “You and Adrian, again?”
“Actually …” I gave Cal an appraising look. “Adrian’s a poor choice for this particular mission, since he’s been AWOL for quite some time.”
Ian was frowning, anticipating where I was headed. He asked Adrian, “Do you know this Tyler Bolton?”
Adrian shook his head. “No. But army guys are like cop cars—you never see one by itself. And if this is a front for only marginally legal activities, or for a resurgence of Project Bloodshot, that’s all the more reason I should stay away. They know I took the original paperwork, so there might be a file on me that gets passed around to interested parties. It may sound paranoid, but …”
But I’d already used the line about how they might still be out to get us, so he stopped himself there. Instead he said, “It’s best that I stay away for now, that’s the short version. Until we know if there’s any connection to the program, anyway.” He was understating for effect, of course.
Ian frowned harder and said to me, “I can’t imagine it’s too much safer for someone like you, given the circumstances. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but this whole thing sounds like a trap.”
“You may be right, but I’m the only one who’s had any experience with these yahoos, and it was my building they raided.”
“All the more reason it sounds like a terrible idea, in my opinion.” He did not sound happy. “They’re luring you out, Raylene. This whole thing looks like a setup.”
“But they don’t even know that I’m not in Seattle,” I insisted. “Somebody knew I made it to Atlanta, but the fact that they were checking out my home turf in the Northwest proves they think I might’ve hightailed it home. They aren’t looking for me here.” It was a gamble, and I knew it. But I put on a brave face and swore to the contrary. “Worst-case scenario, they’re scouring the gayborhood in Atlanta and wondering where the hell I’m holed up.”
“Worst-case scenario,” he muttered. “I suppose I’ll pass your worst-case scenario on to Dr. Keene and tell him to stand by. The poor man must think I’m sponsoring someone to take a vacation across the nation.”
I tried to sound sympathetic, warm, and downright motherly when I took one of his cold hands in mine and patted it with authoritative gentleness. “Ian, if this program isn’t shut down for good, it can only come back to haunt you. To haunt us, even. They caught you once and you got away, so they know you’re out here someplace. And we already know they’ve got an eye on me. Better to shut it down now while we’re so close, and while they think they have us on the run.”
He sighed and withdrew his hand. “It’s not that I disagree with you …”
“Great!” I said, deliberately interrupting before he could give me the rest. “Then it’s settled. Me and your buddy Cal here will swing by tomorrow night’s field club meeting for the D.C. parkour program.”
Cal gave a wet little gasp, and Ian lifted a finger as if he had something to contribute before I went any further, but I ignored it and kept talking.
“Because obviously, that’s the only way this is going to work. I can’t take Adrian, because there’s too much risk of him being spotted, recognized, and outed. I can’t take you, because, well, bless you darling, but you can’t see, and we don’t have any trustworthy third parties we can bribe or bully into reconnaissance, so that leaves me and your ghoul.”
“Why don’t you just go alone?” Cal asked.
“Oh, I plan to. We’re going alone together, which is to say, we’re arriving separately and pretending we don’t know each other—because if they figure me out and make a play to bring me in, somebody has to tell Ian and Adrian what’s gone down.