Empire Games Series, Book 1(92)
“Do you want to move out of that hotel? You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you’re in town, if this is just a few weeks. If it’s longer, though, we might need to get somewhere bigger.” Angie carved a slice of pizza, slurped its dripping tip into her mouth, and masticated as she continued: “And with more of an eye to privacy, if you follow me.”
“I don’t know how long I’m here,” Rita told her, eyes disquietingly clear, concealing her mouth with a cup of Coke: “I don’t really know what they want me for. Probably nothing good, but nothing good beats something bad, doesn’t it?”
“Guess so. Let’s take a walk?”
Leaving the remains of their food, Rita and Angie strolled around the food court and then out into the mall. It was safe enough to hold hands here, so they did, using finger squeezes for punctuation whenever the conversation took a turn toward more sensitive subjects.
“So you got a job working for the DHS?”
Rita nodded. “Yes, I sure did.”
“OMG. Bet that makes you popular at parties.”
Rita shrugged. Yes. “I can live with it. Before it happened I was looking for a job. At least this way I’m inside the tent.”
“But your parents—”
“They’re in Arizona. I haven’t told them much. They might be okay with it, but I can’t tell what the neighbors could think—Border Patrol’s part of DHS, too.”
“They think people like us hate America because ‘freedom’?” Angie said, finger-waggling air quotes.
“Who the fuck knows?” Rita spared her a black-eyed look. “But they tell all cops it’s a bad idea to let the neighbors know what you do. Just in case word gets around to the wrong ears.”
“Well, no shit.” Angie thought for a moment. “Bet your employer has a handle on you.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you talk about it?”
“It’s complicated. Say, isn’t that the exit?”
Contrary to TV and movie mythology, bugging people who move around a lot is difficult, unless they’re carrying microphones with them and speaking clearly. As Angie and Rita left the air-conditioned confines of the mall, their phones were swaddled in socks and hidden inside handbag and backpack. Once out of view of the mall’s own security cameras and mikes, and well away from bugged rooms and vehicles, they could finally speak openly to each other.
Rita explained the context of her adoption, the kidnapping incident, Kurt’s suspicions: finally the world-walking elephant in the room. “There might be factions within the Clan, but they ignored me for my entire life. So my money’s on a stupid-ass attempt by the Colonel’s people to gaslight me. All I know is I’ve got this crazy ability and—”
“You don’t know anything for sure.” Angie squeezed her hand tightly. Rita saw fear and anger reflected in her eyes. “Fucking assholes get their ideas from the movies, like everyone else. Maybe it was your employers. Maybe they thought you weren’t patriotic enough, didn’t have that old-time/new-time/para-time religion. Maybe they wanted to put some iron in your belly. But it could have been the adversary.”
“I’m pretty sure it was the Office of Special Programs,” said Rita. “The Colonel’s bosses are kind of desperate.” Her eyes glanced sidelong into another space, as if reviewing something she’d seen.
“Whatever. You know what I think? I think you should ask your grandpappy for backup. He knew your birth mother’s ma. He’s protective.”
“Don’t say that!” Rita’s eyes grew wide. “If I drag him in, where will it all end?”
“Who better?” Angie tugged her closer. “Your watchers aren’t going to take him seriously as a threat. Old guy, puttering around on a walking stick, chatting to his old-guy buddies. Give him something to do in his retirement.”
“Angel, they did a deep background check on me. They’ve got to know about him. My entire family are at risk if—” Rita’s breath caught. “You’re at risk.”
“So? That’s my choice to make, girl.” Angie shrugged, but Rita saw the tension around her eyes. What would she do if she woke up one morning and found spooks pressuring her? Just by wanting Angie in her life she’d put her in danger, added her to some kind of watch list for significant others, made her a target for some LOVEINT operation. Any creepy stalker with a security clearance could get at Angie, now. But before she could say this, Angie went off on a tangent. “Say, you didn’t run a deep background check on me, did you?”
Rita shook her head. “I don’t have that kind of access. They want me for a sparkly clandestine asset. CAs get security-cleared, but we don’t get to see anything—we live in a velvet-lined box so we can’t give anything away if we’re captured. Maybe if I get burned and have to retire to an analysis desk they’ll give me the keys to the kingdom. But for now all I’ve got on you is whatever you put on Facebook.”
“Oh, well that’s okay, then. Because back in the day I’d have been through your profile like a ferret on crack.” Angie smiled. “That was then, and today I’m just another vet. Listen, I’d like to write Kurt a letter. For old times’ sake. I’ll hold back if you don’t want me to, but…”