Cloud Dust: RD-1 (R-D #1)(51)

Corinne said Nelson was connected to Cutter. Now, Shelbi Oaks was likely connected to both. Too bad she was dead—I wanted to question her myself.

"Deposits from us and from another source were found in her bank accounts—regular deposits."

"James, I want to know if she was ever responsible for drawing blood from anyone in the Program." Shoving down the panic that threatened, I waited for James to search medical records. At least we still had those—the database wasn't kept at the Mansion for security reasons.

"Twice," James confirmed. "The first time eight months ago, the second, four months ago."

"Fuck. Cutter may have had information long before he came on board as Secretary of Defense."

"It's likely they only had a small amount—an attending would notice if too much blood was drawn. They might have stolen enough to get a taste, but not enough to do research. Until they got their hands on Becker, anyway," Shaw said.

"What are they hoping to do, Colonel?" James looked worried.

"It could be any number of things. Don't panic until we have a better handle on this, all right?"

"Perhaps we should send Maye and Nick after Becker," Shaw suggested. "It would have been better with Kevin and Ken, but we may be able to find someone nearly as good to track information for them."

"It's a thought. Maye is decent, but she lacks the intuition the brothers had. I'll get this to the President, and she'll make the final decision."

*

Corinne

The trip to the designated hotel didn't take long after we landed. Jet lag affected all of us, but there was some hope I might see Rafe. That kept me going. What I didn't expect was that Rafe had the one calling himself Gerald Nelson tied up in his hotel room.

I studied him while August pulled up a photograph of Gerald and nurse Shelbi on his tablet. "Recognize this?" he said pleasantly, shoving the tablet in Gerald's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped.

"It's difficult to deny involvement when the evidence is right in front of you. We've checked this for authenticity. The waiter remembers taking the photograph for your girlfriend, Shelbi. You didn't want a photograph taken; she had him do this from a distance so you wouldn't know. Too bad you didn't tell her why she shouldn't take pictures and post them on the Internet. We also have reliable information that places you in General Cutter's camp. Would you like to discuss why that's a problem?"

"He won't, because he arranged to have the Vice President killed and the bomb stuffed inside his casket," I said.

"Who the f*ck are you?" Gerald turned to me and hissed. Rafe, who stood close by, backhanded him. Hard.

Four hours later, I studied the men chosen to escort Gerald back to the U.S. Gerald chose not to implicate anyone else, and wanted a lawyer. The money trail wasn't pretty, though. Some of it was traced through business concerns, all of which were against the current U.S. government.

The guards were all right—at least for the trip back, but like the cabbie from Dublin, I didn't have high hopes for Gerald's continued survival.

Anybody who had any connection to any of this died after their arrest. "Enjoy your flight," I nodded to Gerald as he was escorted toward the plane we'd brought to Edinburgh.

"Corinne, what will happen to him?" August asked as Gerald's shackles were checked before he was loaded onto the plane.

"They'll kill him," I said. "After he lands."

"Do you know who?"

"I haven't seen them, yet."

"Cabbage?" Rafe's arms came around me as we watched the plane begin to taxi down the runway.

"Honey?" I turned my head to look at him.

"Thank you for coming." He leaned down to kiss me.





Chapter 12

Corinne

We were allowed to sleep for seven hours before rising. A trip to the bombed castle was on our agenda for the day. Rafe and I spent the night together, and we'd probably slept for five hours. Maybe five and a quarter; I wasn't looking at the clock. We met Auggie, James and Leo for breakfast before our departure. We received the news while we ate.

Gerald was shot in the head during his transfer to a designated holding facility. The gunman shot himself immediately after. The assassin had no identification on him, and like those who'd tracked Rafe and me at the mall, nobody could figure out who he was.

The problem? He was identical in every way to the twins who'd tracked Rafe at the mall, right down to the fingerprints. It's as if someone made a photocopy of the first one to make the second and then a third. Sadly, all three were dead. "Auggie, have they run tests on these people?" I asked.

"I believe someone is working on that," he hedged.

"What are they finding?"

"That's classified, Cori. Even I don't know."

"But you know something's up, don't you?"

"That is the indication," he agreed. "Eat. We have to leave in ten minutes." I went back to my scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes.

*

"We're attempting to save as much as we can to rebuild," our guide informed us as we walked around a pile of mangled cannons. The cannons used to line a stone wall. That wall was now rubble, barely guarding a precipice that someone could tumble over easily and fall to the courtyard far below.