Page 8 of Lethal Game

The kid shrugged and turned away to read a document on his computer.

Con studied him. His shoulders were so tense they were up around his ears.

Had he done the same as the other soldiers Max had auditioned? Had he made assumptions? Dismissed people who were important?

Con took a moment to look around, really look. This wasn’t a typical Army medical building. Along with the lab coats hanging on the wall outside of the colonel’s office door and the faint smell of bleach that lingered in the air, there was a stillness to the place that made him feel like he was twenty feet underground.

In a bunker.

Protected.

Who needed to be protected? The people inside the building, or the people outside the building?

The work being done here wasn’t way down on any priority list.

On the wall behind Eugene’s desk was a big map of the world with colored flag pins stuck in it.

Con walked over to give it a closer look.

There was a cluster of pins in West Africa, specifically Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea. Another cluster of pins decorated Northwestern Afghanistan, and still another in a couple of Middle Eastern countries. There were also a dozen or so solitary pins dotted across the map.

“Is this a disease hot-spot map?” he asked Eugene.

“Current outbreaks, yeah.”

“That’s a lot of pins.” Too many, and he didn’t know much about any of them. “Is there a summary of all this? One for regular Army idiots?”

“Right here,” Eugene said, holding out a file folder.

Con took it, still staring at the map. “How many of these is Dr. Perry working on?”

“All of them.”

Allof them? “Shit, I have a lot of reading to do.” He knew the best place to do it too.

***

It was an odd feelingto have such a large man sitting at the desk beside her. Usually she was alone, or Dr. Samuels occupied the other workspace. Not this behemoth in a uniform her peripheral vision couldn’t miss with blinders on.

At least he didn’t talk to himself or make much noise.

Though, that didn’t lessen the impact of him sitting barely five feet away. He was a distraction she didn’t need. She sighed and adjusted her position in her seat for the fiftieth time.

He frowned at her and asked, “Am I disturbing you?”

Funny you should bring that up.“Yes, you are. Could you read that somewhere else?”

He looked at her like she’d said something ridiculous. “I’m not doing or saying anything. How am I bothering you?”

By being an alpha male? She couldn’t say that. “I like working alone.”

“Is this an antisocial thing or is it a result of that jackass who manhandled you last night?”

“What?” Where had that come from? “No, I haven’t given that another thought.”

Now he looked at her like he’d caught her hand in the cookie jar. “Maybe not consciously, but shit like that doesn’t get written over in your short-term memory. It sticks with you and fucks with your reactions to all kinds of things.”

How would he know that? Was he emotionally compromised? “Does that explosion you lived through still affect you now?”

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