She was an old hand at packing, and it didn’t take her very long. When she’d come out to meet Carston, she’d stowed her things and dismantled the security at the rental house, just in case she didn’t make it back. (One of her nightmares was that the department would get her while she was out, and then some innocent, unsuspecting landlord would enter the premises and die.) She’d stashed everything outside DC, then come back for it when she’d started setting up for Project Interrogate the Schoolteacher. Now she fitted it all into the worn black duffels—the pressurized canisters, the miles of lead wires, the battery packs, the rubber-encased vials of components, the syringes, the goggles, the heavy gloves, her pillow, and her sleeping bag. She packed her props and some of the new things she’d picked up. The restraints were a good find, and the cot was decently comfortable and folded down into a small rectangle. She put her computer in its case, grabbed the little black box that was just a red herring, like her locket, pulled down the long cables, and rolled up the extension cords. She was going to have to leave the lights, which was a bummer. They hadn’t been cheap. She dismantled the tent, leaving just a pile of meaningless foam and PVC pipe, and shoved the table back to where she’d found it. There wasn’t anything to do about the holes she’d drilled.
She could only hope that she’d obfuscated things enough that the owners would only be confused and angry at the destruction rather than suspicious that something nefarious had happened here. There was a chance they’d report their destructive tenant to the authorities, but local police wouldn’t be able to construe anything from the mess either. As long as certain words didn’t go into the report, there was no reason for anyone in the government to notice. She was sure there were Airbnb stories of destruction much more interesting than this one.
She shook her head at the door to the bunk room. The dog had chewed or clawed a hole two feet high and a foot wide right through the center of the solid wood door. At least it had only jumped over the car rather than eating it on its way out.
She was finished loading the trunk when Daniel came back in.
“Nice capris,” Kevin commented, winding the cable of his grappling hook into a neat coil. Alex wondered if he’d climbed back up onto the roof to retrieve it and, if he had, how she’d missed that.
It was true that Daniel’s pants made it only halfway down his shins. The cotton shirt was a few sizes wide, and the sleeves were probably too short as well—he had them rolled to the elbows.
“If only I had half a wet suit.” Daniel sighed. “Then I would feel ready to face the world.”
Kevin grunted. “I’d have a whole wet suit if the psycho wasn’t such a perv.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, I was looking for weapons.”
Daniel watched her close the trunk.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes. I need to get somewhere safe so I can sleep.” She imagined she looked haggard enough that the explanation was a little redundant.
“I was thinking…” Daniel said, and then hesitated.
Kevin looked up from his rifle, alerted by Daniel’s tone.
“What were you thinking?” Kevin asked suspiciously.
“Well, I was thinking about the scorpions in the jar. Alex said there were only two outcomes—one kills the other, or both die. And I imagine that the people who wanted to kill you thought the same thing.”
“So?” Kevin said.
“So, there was a third option,” she said, guessing the direction Daniel was headed. “The scorpions walk away. They won’t be expecting that. That’s what will make you safe, Daniel.”
“But there’s a fourth option, too,” Daniel answered. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about.”
Kevin cocked his head. He clearly didn’t get it. She did, just before Daniel said the words out loud.
“What if the scorpions joined forces?”
She pursed her lips, then relaxed them when that pulled at the split.
Kevin groaned. “Stop messing around, Danny.”
“I’m serious. They’d never expect that. And then we’re twice as safe, because we’ve got both dangerous creatures on the same team.”
“Not happening.”
She walked closer to him. “It’s a clever idea, Daniel, but I think some of the personnel issues might be too big to overcome.”
“Kev’s not so bad. You’ll get used to him.”
“I’m not bad?” Kevin snorted, peering through his sights.
Daniel looked straight at her. “You’re thinking about going back, aren’t you? What you said about visiting the pantry.”
Insightful for a civilian.
“I’m considering it.”
Kevin was giving them his full attention now. “Counterstrike?”
“It might work,” she said. “There’s a pattern… and after looking at it, I think that maybe not so many people know about me. That’s why they’re going to such lengths to have a fifty-fifty chance at taking me out. I think I’m a secret, so if I can get rid of the people in on that secret… well, then nobody’s looking for me anymore.”
“Does that hold true for me?” Kevin wanted to know. “If they’re relying on this to get to me, do you think I might be a secret, too?”
“It’s logical.”
“How will you know who’s in on it?”
“If I could be in DC when I send my little note to Carston, I could watch to see who he goes running to. If it’s really a secret, they won’t be able to do it in the office.”
“They’ll know you’re close—the IP will give you away.”
“Maybe we could work together in a limited way. One of you could send the e-mail for me from a distance.”
“What’s your experience in surveillance?” Kevin demanded abruptly.
“Er… I’ve had a lot of practice in the last few years—”
“Do you have any formal training?”
“I’m a scientist, not a field agent.”
He nodded. “I’ll do it.”
She shook her head. “You’re dead again, remember? You and Daniel get to disappear now. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“That’s a stupid saying. If the Trojans had looked in the horse’s mouth, they might have won that war.”
“Forget the saying. I’m trying to make things up to Daniel.”