Feed

 

 

?So do I.? Palming a data stick, I slipped it into his pocket. To an observer, it would have looked like I was going for his wallet. Let them call security. It?s not like there?d be anything for them to find. ?That?s a copy of everything. There are six more. Steve doesn?t know he has one.?

 

?Got it,? said Shaun. Always back up your data, and scatter it as far as you can. I can?t count the number of journalists who have forgotten that basic rule, and some have never recovered from the stories they lost. If we lost this one, getting discredited was going to be the least of our worries. ?Off-site??

 

?Multiple places. I don?t know them all; the guys did their own backups.?

 

?Good.?

 

Rick had been observing our semi-audible conversation without comment. He raised his eyebrows as it stopped, and I shook my head. He took the refusal with good grace, sipping from his glass of ?champagne? and continuing to scan the crowd. There were a few people who seemed to be holding the bulk of his interest. Some were politicians, while others were people I recognized from the campaign. I glanced to Rick, who nodded toward Tate. Got it. These were people whose loyalties he thought he knew, and thought belonged to our resident governor. Who just happened to be the man most likely to have caused the deaths of an awful lot of innocent people, as well as being responsible for the corruption and death of one of our own.

 

None of those people was standing close enough to hear our conversation unless one of them had listening devices planted on or around the senator. If I was going to risk anything, I needed to do it now. ?I?m going in,? I murmured to Shaun, and began working my way through the crowd surrounding Senator Ryman.

 

I?ll give the flesh-pressers this: They didn?t give ground easy, not even as I was none too gently elbowing my way into their midst. A lady old enough to have been my grandmother drove the heel of her left shoe down on the top of my foot with a degree of force that would have been impressive in a younger woman. Fortunately, even my dress shoes are made of reinforced polymer. Even so, I bit my tongue to keep myself from swearing out loud. Casual assault might be A-okay with security, but I was reasonably sure shouting ?cock-sucking bitch? wouldn?t be.

 

After a lot of shoving and several painful kicks to my shins and ankles, I found myself to the right of the senator, who was busy having his hand pumped up and down by a barrel-chested octogenarian whose eyes burned with the revolutionary fervor one only ever seems to see in those who discovered either religion or politics at a very young age. Neither man seemed to have registered the fact that I was there. I was neither the assaulting nor the assaulted, which left me on the outside of their present closed equation.

 

The handshaker showed no signs of stopping. If anything, his pumps were increasing in vigor as he started hitting his stride. I weighed the potential danger of octogenarian assault against waiting for him to tire, and settled on action as the better part of valor. Smoothly as I could, I moved to place my hand on Senator Ryman?s free arm and said, in a sugar-sweetened tone, ?Senator, if I could have a moment of your time, I?d be most appreciative.?

 

The senator jumped. His assailant looked daggers at me, which moved up the scale to full-sized swords as the senator turned and flashed his best magazine-cover smile my way. ?Of course, Miss Mason,? he said. He deftly twitched his fingers free of the handshaker, saying, ?If you wouldn?t mind excusing me, Councilman Plant, I need to confer with a member of my press pool. Everyone, I?ll be right back with you.?

 

Fighting into the throng had taken almost five minutes. Getting out of it required nothing but the senator?s hand at the small of my back, propelling me along as we made our way to the clear space to the left of the dais. ?Not that I mind the save, Georgia, since I was starting to worry about the structural integrity of my wrist, but what are you doing here?? asked Senator Ryman, his voice pitched low. ?Last I checked, you?d stayed at the Center, which is why your brother?s been here annoying the staff and eating all the shrimp canapés all evening.?

 

?I did stay at the Center,? I said. ?Senator, I don?t know if you?re aware of this, but?? Someone shouted congratulations to the senator, who answered it with a grin and a broad thumbs-up. It was a perfect photo-op moment, and I snapped the shot with my watch?s built-in camera before I even thought about what I was doing. Instincts. Clearing my throat, I tried again. ?Buffy was working for someone who wanted to keep tabs on your campaign.?

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