Free Cloud Dust: RD-1 by Connie Suttle Page A

immediately
afterward.
    * * *
    I don't know how Rafe found his way into my bedroom the
following morning, but he was there with a cup of coffee in his hands.
Surprisingly enough, he offered the cup to me.
    "You were there," he stated baldly as I worked my
way into a sitting position and accepted the cup.
    "Go away. Thanks for the coffee."
    "I figure there are people out there who'd pay seven
figures or more to know you survived that attack."
    "Are you one of them? Plan on selling that information to
the highest bidder?" I asked, handing the cup of coffee back to him.
"Go away. I have enough worries without you adding more."
    "I understand that. Perhaps better than you know,"
he said, handing the coffee cup back to me and sitting on the bed. He ended up
leaning against the headboard beside me and staring at the wall in front of us.
"How much do you think someone might pay to have information on my
continued existence?"
    "Touché."
    * * *
    "Madam President, those panic attacks happen every time
the subject comes up. I keep waiting for her to tell me—to get that burden off
her shoulders. It's locked up so tightly within her, she may never let it
go." Dr. Shaw shifted in his chair as the President studied the doctor
across her temporary desk.
    "Look, I know all about the forensics. About how the
bodies showed signs of torture before they were killed—Corinne's included. I
may know why they waited until the last to shoot her, but that's information I
don't feel comfortable giving out." President Sanders raked fingers
through dark hair turning gray at a rapid rate. The presidency tended to do
that—make someone gray long before their time. Madam President refused to mask
the signs of age or stress with hair color.
    "You know that would be considered privileged,"
Doctor Shaw began.
    "I and two others know. That's it, unless Corinne chooses
to tell you herself."
    "Of course, Madam President."
    "Will you do me a favor, Shaw?"
    "Of course, Madam President."
    "I want information on Derik Thompson's parents. His
upbringing. Anything you can find that might point to his reasons for becoming
a terrorist and involving himself in that mess. I'm tired of being vilified in
French."
    "I'll get right on it."
    * * *
    Corinne
    Becker made an effort to sneer at me as we walked toward the
meeting room. I figured there'd be more of the same from all
involved—posturing, withholding information, excuses, blame, all in several
languages.
    I wasn't disappointed. Rafe and I, though, made a point to
watch everyone in the room and not just Mary Evans, AKA the spy to be named
later.

Chapter 6  
    "Something's going on." Nick dropped his bag on the floor
of his suite. Becker had followed Nick after the choppers left them at the
Mansion. "Why are they talking to Corinne, all of a sudden?"
    "I think Maye knows something, she's just not
talking."
    "Or just not talking to us."
    "Too bad they stuck Corinne in the bungalow with Colonel
Hunter, Captain Parrish and the Russian. I figure we could pound a reason out
of her."
    "You know you'll be in trouble if you touch her,"
Nick warned.
    "Huh. What's a little punch, now and then?"
    "Becker, you know your brain isn't your best asset. Let
me think about this, all right?"
    "Don't take too long. I really want to know what's going
on."
    "So do I. Patience is a virtue, remember?"
    * * *
    Notes—Colonel Hunter
    "What was Captain Parrish's reaction when he wasn't
included in the meeting with the President?" James asked. James hadn't
been invited to the meetings either; he'd gone as my assistant and stayed in
the bungalow, doing routine tasks and keeping me in the loop on the chopper
explosion.
    So far, the pilot hadn't cracked. That worried me, as he was
military. Someone had gotten to him, and we were still attempting to determine
the cause and what, if anything, he might know about the Program.
    The explosive was on a timer—I'd figured that out early on. It
made it easier for Corinne to delay all of us without