Fire with Fire(118)
“A little jumpy, are we?” Opal’s frown matched her concerned tone. “What was that all about?”
“Lots. Not much. I’m not sure.” He smiled down at her. “I’ll figure it out later. Might concern you too, since I think it’s going to concern Downing. And while we’re on that topic, how’s it feel taking a soldier’s coin working for the Prince of Lies again?”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. But I couldn’t just keep freeloading off you.” Opal preempted Caine’s attempt to object. “Besides, duty calls: Scarecrow’s getting kind of antsy over in the corner. I think we’d better pay our respects so they can wrap things up here.”
Caine nodded, turned, found Corcoran’s daughter right there, staring straight at him with glass-green eyes. He extended his hand into hers, but before he could say anything, Trevor—who had apparently been at her shoulder the whole time—nodded after the corporate emissaries. “Friends of yours?”
He can’t be serious— And then Caine saw Trevor’s rueful grin. Caine returned it. “Yeah. Bosom buddies. Good to see you again, by the way. I wish the circumstances were different.”
“Yeah, me too. I don’t think you’ve met my sister, Elena. Elena, this is—”
Her voice was a smooth mezzo. “Trevor: I do watch the news occasionally. Mr. Riordan, a pleasure.”
He looked at her directly, a little anxiously, since he had been intermittently staring at her since entering the room.
Trevor’s voice was part intrusion, but also part hint. “And this is Captain—excuse me, Major—Opal Patrone.”
Caine became aware that he was still holding Elena’s hand, pulled his back a little too quickly, smiled to cover the awkwardness, decided that he was quite an ass and should not be allowed in public. He was vaguely aware of Opal shaking Elena’s hand and that she had just finished saying something in a sympathetic tone. Good grief, I forgot to—
“Ms. Corcoran—excuse me: I—”
“Please: call me Elena.”
“Elena, I’m so sorry. About your father. I hardly know what to say. I didn’t know him very long, but—”
She was not smiling, only nodding: was she angry? No; just very serious. “I know. Richard—Mr. Downing—has told me a little. I can tell that my father must have liked you. And trusted you.”
And voluble Caine felt his brain lock up: what response could he make that was both reasonable and truthful? Could he really claim that he had reciprocated the trust of a man who had permitted (maybe ordered?) his fourteen-year internment in a meat locker, and who then thawed him out only to perform a politically expedient task? Could Caine claim that he had liked this august figure who also covertly manipulated people and nations and facts and events? “I only knew him a day—but I will miss him. A lot. I would like to have gotten to know him better. I think he was—a good man.”
Elena had stopped nodding. Her eyes had become very grave—but he didn’t feel any disapproval in them. Then she faced Trevor. “We should go. Richard’s meeting is in five minutes.” As she turned to leave, she looked back over her shoulder. “Thank you for coming. Please excuse us.”
Trevor, with a quizzical look after his sister, shrugged an awkward farewell, and followed Elena’s abrupt exit. Opal stood looking after them.
“Soooooo—” Opal let the vowel sound drag out—“you never met her before?”
“Uh—no. Why?”
Opal smiled sideways at him. “I guess it just looked like you wished you had met her before. It also looks like you’re recovering from your injuries pretty fast. But I guess we’d still better keep your karate lessons on hold for now.”
“Yes, but you can still critique my form over dinner.”
“Oh—you mean you’re hoping I’ll give you a raincheck for the dinner you didn’t bother to buy me last night?”
“Yeah.” He hefted the softcast meditatively. “Sorry. I was . . . uh, detained.”
“Well, I guess I’ll give you another chance—but no more lame excuses about homicidal intruders and emergency surgery, okay?”
Caine nodded, saw they were among the last people in the room. “Well, I suppose we ought to head to Downing’s briefing.”
“I suppose.” Opal looked back at the memorial flame as they walked toward the exit. “So strange.”
“What is?”
“Having met the admiral only once,” Opal paused as they entered the corridor and made for a nearby conference room. “He seemed like such a nice man—a fun man—”