SIXTY

Thursday morning

Pierce was having coffee at the pool in a hotel robe and a swimsuit he’d picked up in the souvenir shop for triple what it would cost anywhere else.

Early, but already hot. The brief weather front that had passed through was obviously not going to circle back.

Carson Pierce had had about three hours sleep but wanted a private place for the conversation he was waiting for. He figured it was going to be a long day. An hour in the sun was an investment in relaxation to keep his batteries charged.

Waiting for Holly he was thinking about the genetic makeup of the male species.

Other side of the pool was a blonde in a matching hotel robe, leaving enough of it open to show a bikini beneath. Just that phrase, blonde in a bikini, should have been offensive. She was a woman, another human being, with thoughts and feelings, but male genetics compelled him to reduce her to categorized object. He could blame his chromosomes for that rather than take personal responsibility.

She was maybe five years younger than he was and had just looked over at him. A second time. He was thinking he should walk over and ask her name. Otherwise it was dehumanizing just to think of her as a blonde. See, he told himself, a male person could and should fight the Y chromosome.

The importance of that fight was underscored when Holly walked into the pool area, dark pants and shirt, dark sunglasses. Fortunate, Pierce thought, that she’s not here to swim. Easier to keep it professional when a willowy and sassy brunette isn’t in a hotel robe.

“Morning,” Pierce said when Holly sat in the chair beside him. It gave her the same view of that blonde on the other side of the pool. “Coffee?”

“Sorry to interrupt your daydreaming. Surprised you’re not wearing mirrored sunglasses. Most guys do when they want to check out poolside babes.”

“Babe is a dehumanizing term,” Pierce said. “Besides, the point of not wearing dark sunglasses is that it lets you make eye contact. Shows confidence. Shows you’re not like other guys. And it’s part of my long-term goal of reducing said dehumanization. Making the world a better place.”

“Don’t let me cramp your style.”

“Hang around. It’s actually helpful. A babe like her sees a single guy by himself at the pool, she starts wondering what’s wrong with him. A drop-dead gorgeous woman like you shows up, and now she begins to speculate at all I have going for me. Especially with you dressed like you are. Makes you an accessory.”

“Accessory?”

“I’m in a robe. I’m the power guy here. Can’t hang out in a robe otherwise. So now she’s wondering if you work for me or are just coming by to say good-bye before you do something reasonably glamorous out there while I’m entitled to remain languid across the pool. Either way, in her eyes, I’m a winner.”

“Languid?”

“Languid.”

“This fantasy life ever work out for you?”

“Ask me again if you make the next pay grade. You can access a different level of intel at that point.”

“Not if,” Holly said. “When. You might want to remember it was 4 a.m. when you knocked on my door and wanted fingerprints off the badge you put in my hand.”

“Not to be dehumanizing, but you looked okay for that time of morning.”

“Well, not so much anymore. I’m not wearing these sunglasses to check you out. These bags under my eyes are part of the reason my next pay grade isn’t an ‘if’”

“Was doing you a favor,” Pierce said. “Knew you’d appreciate all the extra time I was giving you to get answers by now. Besides, you had full authorization to put Jeremy to work too.”

“I want all the glory to myself.”

“And?”

“I learned something about you. Only two sets of prints on your badge. Yours and hers. Was wondering if there’d be other women to find.”

“Discipline. I only have time for work.”

“The prints not yours belong to Jessica Charmaine. Forty-nine years old. Scientist, cleared for level-four military work.”

“Good work.”

“You might want to note 4 a.m. is when you handed me the badge.”

“You’re trying to make a point about not waking you up in the future.”

“Which you’ll ignore.”

“What kind of science?” Pierce asked, thinking of the blood vials and syringes in the woman’s purse.

“Genetic.”

“You’ve got her file?”

“Posted on the op-site. Your eyes only.”

“Let me try a long shot here,” Pierce said. If Charmaine was forty-nine, she would have been late twenties when Jordan Brown pulled the plug by destroying everything and leaving for Appalachia. “Before the Wars, she was part of the Genesis lab.”

“Yup. How’d you know?”

“Tut, tut,” Pierce said. This knowledge finally gave him a good indication why Caitlyn had come to DC. “Wrong pay grade. Not going to share.”

“Suddenly, old isn’t that attractive to me anymore. What I said yesterday? Forget it.”

“That’s fine. Makes room for the blonde across the pool. What did you learn about Swain?”

“Same thing. Former genetics scientist. Genesis lab.”

“You’re getting closer to the next pay grade,” Pierce said.

“Blonde in a bikini couldn’t come close to what I’m capable of.”

Pierce was glad his cell phone buzzed. He held up a hand of apology to Holly and answered. “Pierce.”

“Tell me again why I keep doing you favors.” Wilson’s voice.

“I’ve saved your life three times.” Pierce said from his lounge chair.

Wilson had not confirmed whether Pierce’s cell was crypt protected from electronic eavesdropping. Nor did Pierce ask Wilson. It was a given since both were in flagrant violation of agency policy. Given the subject, Wilson’s call to Pierce was definitely beyond authorization.

“Want to tell me why you asked for this favor?” Wilson asked. “You’re trying to pull something together, and it can’t be good.”

“How much deniability do you want to lose here?” Pierce had asked to make an unauthorized location check of private vehicles to find the one that fit the specific time and location of the car that had pulled up to Swain’s house the night before.

“Granted. But I don’t like what I found.”

“Spill.”

“How high in the World United can you go?”

World United. The replacement for United Nations.

“You’re talking the top?” Pierce asked. “Like the very top?”

“Richard Dawkins. We both know his military background.”

“Yeah.” Pierce was quiet for a few seconds, giving it some thought. Then, “Run a cross-check and see if there’s any connection to Swain. Anytime. Anywhere.”

“Pierce.”

“Sorry. Please run a cross-check and—”

“No. I did it already. And what I got there is even worse. It’s the Genesis Project. He was on the committee that oversaw the budget and operations. You should walk away from this. Now. If that was Dawkins and he was visiting Swain, he’s going to know it was you inside when he passed by. Someone like him has a lot of juice. Like, unlimited.”

Pierce didn’t answer. The blonde in the bikini had just given him a third glance. More than a glance. A long look. Which was bold considering Holly was right beside him. It was more than bold. It was an open invitation. Did Pierce really want to leave the sun for a journey into the swamp of agency politics? Maybe he’d be better off poolside for the rest of the day. Or month.

“Pierce? You there?”

“I’m here,” Pierce said.

“You hear me?”

“Yeah,” Pierce said. “Thanks for your help.”

He snapped the phone shut.

“You should have worn mirrored sunglasses,” Holly said pertly. “She’s acting like I’m not even here.”

Pierce smiled back at the blonde, knowing that Holly was watching.