“But you haven’t seen it. You don’t know what’s on it. For all I know, it proves you’re the monster the DAR says you are.”
“True.” The man said it with the calm of a logician acknowledging the fallacy in an argument.
“All right.” Cooper stood again, walked to the lip of the rock, stared down at the wide bright world. “I’ll find it. Not for you, and not for your cause.” He turned and looked back at Smith. “But you better pray that video shows what you think it does. Because I know you now. I can find you again, and I can kill you.”
“I believe you,” Smith said. “I’m counting on you to take this all the way.”
“Even if that means killing you.”
“Sure. Because only someone that dedicated will have what it takes to face off against Drew Peters. Christ, Cooper. Why do you think I sent Shannon to bring you here in the first place?”
Cooper’s hands clenched. A sick, floating feeling bloomed in his belly. “What?” His gift racing ahead again, providing yet another answer he didn’t want. “What do you mean, ‘sent Shannon’?”
“Ah.” The other man looked disgruntled for a second. “Sorry. I thought you’d figured that part out already.”
“What do you mean, ‘sent Shannon’?”
Smith sighed. He rose, slipped his hands in his pockets. “Just that. I needed you, so I dispatched Shannon to get you. I sent her to that El platform, and I planned your route to me. I made sure you saw Samantha and the uses the world has for her. I had Shannon take you to Lee Chen’s house so you could meet his daughter and her friends. I routed you through Epstein, because I knew he’d sell me out to protect his dream, and because I knew you’d never believe you could get to me without help. And I stood outside last night smoking a cigarette so you’d climb the balcony.
“I’m sorry, Cooper. I’m a chess player. I needed to turn a pawn into a queen.” Smith shrugged. “So I did.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Even now, three hours later, sitting in a leather chair twenty thousand feet up, the comment still rankled. Which was pointless; Cooper had more important things to deal with than his injured pride.
It’s not just pride. Being upset that John Smith out-planned you is like being upset that Barry Adams plays better football. It’s just a fact.
No, it wasn’t being beaten by Smith that stung. It was that for the first time since he and Natalie had split, Cooper had felt something for a woman. Yes, they were on opposite teams, and there were a thousand reasons a relationship wouldn’t work, but still, those feelings had been real.
Unfortunately, everything they’d been based on was fake. Everything she’d told him was a lie. Maybe even last night.
He leaned back in his seat. Stared out the window. The jet was just cresting the clouds, baroque castles spilling below him. Usually it was his favorite moment in a flight, a view that managed to stir that childish sense of wonder that he was miles up in the air. But the intricate cloudscape did nothing for him now.
It’s not just that you got used. It’s that she used you.
This morning, on the rock spire, he’d told Smith what he needed, and was unsurprised to find the guy had it standing by. “I’m sending Shannon with you.”
“No,” Cooper had said, “you’re not.”
“Listen, I’m sorry for your wounded feelings, but this is too important. You need her help. She goes.”
“Sorry, I don’t work for you. I’m doing this my way.”
“Cooper—”
“Just arrange the plane.” He scooted to the edge of the rock spire and hung his legs over. “I’ll get to the runway myself.”
“Talk to her, at least,” Smith had said.
Cooper had ignored him, spun to grip the edge, and begun to climb down.
From above, Smith had said, “She deserves that much.”