“Certainly.”
“What’s it like helping to build New Canaan when you’re not gifted?”
By the window, Shannon swallowed a laugh. The lawyer’s smile curdled slightly. “A privilege. Why?”
“Call me curious.”
Kobb nodded, made an unconvincing it’s-nothing gesture. “What we’re doing here matters. It’s an incredible opportunity. Never in history has there been an initiative like this. A chance to build a new world.”
“Especially with someone else’s money. Sounds like a no-lose.”
Millicent smiled into her game.
“Hmm.” The phone at the lawyer’s belt vibrated, and he unclipped it, read the message. “Ahh. Erik is about to arrive. He’s in Manhattan.”
“He flew in for this?”
“No,” Kobb said, the smugness back. “He’s in Manhattan now.”
“Then—”
Before he could finish the question, Erik Epstein appeared behind the desk.
Cooper was halfway out of his chair with realizing he’d moved, his body on full combat alert. His mind spinning, analyzing the situation—
A gift like Shannon’s? Had he been here all the time, somehow?
No, Epstein’s gift is for data.
Some unheard of piece of newtech? Cloaking? Teleportation? Ridiculous.
But there he is. Live and in the flesh…
Got it.
—and realizing what he was looking at. “Wow. That is something.”
Erik Epstein smiled. “Sorry to startle you.”
Now that he’d had a moment, Cooper could see the faint gauziness at the man’s edges, as if he’d been smeared. The shadows were off, too; wherever Epstein was, the lighting was different from here. He looked like a special effect from a movie in the eighties, completely convincing until you really looked.
“One of our newest developments,” Kobb said. “Fundamentally similar to the technology in a tri-d set, only significantly amplified.”
“A hologram.”
“Yes,” Epstein said. He grinned. “Not bad, huh?”
“Not bad at all.” That’s a decade past the best the DAR has ever managed. Even with the academy graduates.
In person—well, sort of—Erik Epstein looked a little less polished than he did in broadcasts. He still had the boyish good looks, the raffish hair, but he seemed less stiff. Dressed in a summer-weight suit with no tie, he’d have been at home in an expensive country club. “I’d shake your hand, but—” He lifted one arm, flexing the fingers. “One of the limitations. Still, it beats a speakerphone.”
“Thank you for meeting us on short notice,” Shannon said. She was somehow beside him, settling into a chair.
“Your message made sure of that, Ms. Azzi. I don’t like being connected to John Smith that way.”
“I understand,” she said. “Forgive me for imposing. It was the only way I knew to get your attention.”
“You have it,” Epstein said. He laid his hands on the desk. The fingertips penetrated the surface, ruining the illusion a bit. “You must be Cooper.”
“Agent Nicholas Cooper,” Kobb said. “Born March, 1981, second year of the gifted. Joined the army at seventeen with father’s consent. Detailed as a military liaison to what would become the Department of Analysis and Response, 2000. Joined full-time in 2002. Entered Equitable Services with its foundation in 2004. Made full agent in 2005, senior agent in 2008. Generally considered the best of the so-called ‘gas men,’ sporting an unmatched clearance rate, including thirteen terminations.”
“Thir-teen?” Shannon raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Cooper said, “that’s me. On paper.”
“Went rogue following the March 12th attack on the Leon Walras Exchange.” Kobb looked up from his datapad. “Now the lead suspect in that bombing.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised. Though part of the agreement with Director Peters was that they wouldn’t publicly reveal his identity—a fanatic might have gone after Natalie and the children—most of the DAR would know he’d been designated a target. And the world’s richest man would have access to pretty much any information he wanted. Still. It jarred him. He glared at the lawyer, but spoke to Epstein. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“Did you, Ms. Azzi?” Kobb asked.
“No,” she said. “Not the way it happened.”
“But it was John Smith’s organization that planted the bombs.”
“Yes. But we didn’t trigger them.”
“How do we know that?”
“Enough, Bob.” Epstein spoke with easy command. “They’re telling the truth.”
“But sir, we don’t—”
“Yes, we do. Millie?”
The girl looked up. “They’re both lying. They’re lying to each other, too. But they’re telling the truth about that.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
The lawyer opened his mouth, shut it. Cooper could see the man simmering, his frustration. A leader in his field, no doubt a powerful political player, overruled by a child.
Kobb’s not the only one. Cooper felt like a tennis ball, hammered back and forth across a net. Lying to each other? What did that mean? If nothing else, the girl had clearly made him for what he was, and the nakedness came with fear. She couldn’t read his mind, wouldn’t know about his mission, but picking up on the subcutaneous cues of his loyalty response to the agency, that would be simple for her. No telling how much deeper that could go.
To make it this far and be at the mercy of a ten-year-old girl…
Lock it down.
“So.” Erik Epstein smiled, holding out his hands. “With that out of the way. What are you doing here?”
“Shannon and I had a deal. There was an incident in Chicago, a few days ago, and she needed help. I got her home, and she got me a chance to meet you.”
“I see. Why?”
“As you know, my former agency is hunting me.” Stick to the facts as much as possible. “I’m not safe anywhere.”
“Mr. Epstein,” Kobb said, “you should know that we’re on tenuous legal ground. Now that Mr. Cooper’s identity is out in the open, we can’t claim plausible deniability. This is verging dangerously close to harboring a fugitive.”
“Thank you, Bob,” the billionaire said dryly. “We can take the risk for a few more moments. I don’t think Agent Cooper is here to entrap us.”
“No, sir. In fact, I need your help. I’d like to start over here. In New Canaan.” He forced himself not to look at the girl. She would know he was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. The best he could hope was that she wouldn’t interject, that she offered an opinion only when asked.
Epstein steepled his fingers. “I see. And for that you need my help.”
“Yes.”
“Because you have a lot of enemies.”
“Yes. But I could be a good friend to you.”
Kobb said, “Mr. Epstein, this is a bad—”
The billionaire silenced him with a look. To Cooper, he said, “Would you give us a moment? I’d like to speak to Ms. Azzi and Mr. Kobb privately.” He turned to face the girl. “Millie, would you bring Mr. Cooper to the executive lounge?”
Cooper shot a glance at Shannon, couldn’t read her response. They’d formed something of a bond over the last days, but she didn’t owe him anything. For a moment he considered refusing. But what would be the point? If he was caught, he was caught.
With exaggerated nonchalance, he stood. “Sure.” Millie slid off the couch, her d-pad clutched tight to her chest. She walked to a blank wall. Part of it slid aside as she reached it, a hidden door he hadn’t noticed. How much else had he missed?