Page 81 of Forever

“I’ve heard of him,” she said smoothly.

“Yeah, I was thinking that you people”—he moved his hand around—“who play at this undercover-lab game know each other. No one starts out running medical research under the radar. You all had to begin somewhere legit.”

“This is true.”

“Gunnar Rhobes was on our agency’s list as a target.”

She didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “Was he.”

“Yeah, and his lab in Tuttle, Pennsylvania, had a little accident the day before yesterday.”

C.P. thought back to being in Houston, in that skyscraper of Gunnar’s… all those suits running down to the conference room.

“What kind of accident,” she asked.

“It was bombed out of existence.” Daniel made a starburst with one of his hands. “Boom! Someone blew it up.”

C.P. sat forward. “Did your organization do it?”

“I don’t know. I back-ended the F.B.G. database using a sign-in that was still live—and don’t worry, I covered my tracks even with your virtual server.Anyway, there were ops notes on the site from the spring. Another squad, other than mine, was working on the project. Maybe it took them six months to get it done, although usually things moved faster than that.”

“It could have been terrorism. Or someone from the inside.”

“Whatever the case, it’s gone and that’s irrefutable. Local sources are saying there was an earthquake radiating out from the area and a sinkhole opened up. It was all over the morning news. Law enforcement aren’t doing shit at the site, which leads me to believe they were bought off pretty quick.”

C.P. thought about Gunnar Rhobes. And everything she knew he was capable of.

Would he blame her somehow?

“So,” Daniel murmured. “You want to clue me in on exactly how well you know that guy and his company?”

She frowned and shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Listen, if it’s a case of you’ll-have-to-kill-me-if-you-tell-me?” The guy pointed to his lungs. “Nailed it on the dead part already—so you might as well get talking.”

C.P. smiled again. “You’re not supposed to be making me laugh.”

“Oh, I don’t have any sense of humor. I told Lydia that right when I met her—even gave her myuncle’s suck-ass knock-knock joke to prove it. I did do one good joke tonight, though. Thought it was a trend. It wasn’t.”

“You know,” she murmured as she regarded him with a tilt of her head, “you really do look better all of a sudden.”

“Gus is a miracle worker.” There was a pause. “Hey, I’m sorry I flaked out on you, and your drug trial—”

“Oh, do not apologize.” She put up a hand. “There is nothing more personal than health care decisions. You’ve got to do what’s best for you. That’s what really matters.”

The man sat forward and put his elbows on her desk. “Talk to me about Gunnar. You might as well. Something tells me you don’t talk to anybody.”

Later, she would wonder why she opened up. But then again, they shared a big commonality, even if she was the only one who knew it.

“I’m selling Vita-12b.”

Daniel got very still. “And Gunnar is one of your potential buyers.”

“You’re quick. And he hasn’t made an offer—just a bunch of posturing.”

“You’ve got a very narrow market, haven’t you. Few will know what to do with it—or have what is required to continue your work.” Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you dumping the compound? Does Gus know?”

“He does. As for the sale? That’s complicated.”

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