I didn’t see any sign of my clothes, which meant they’d probably been cut off after my rough landing. I wondered if I’d been medically evac’d to the campus and realized it didn’t matter. I was here now, and that was all that counted. The last thing I’d needed was to wake up in some hospital in the Minneapolis suburbs where I could make a doctor scream with the display I’d just graced Perugini with. They probably wouldn’t have taken it as well as she had, especially when it ended with me disappearing from their care against medical advice.
I felt every cold step on the pads of my feet as I headed toward the door. As I went I pulled the IV out of my arm—I was getting to be a real pro at this by now—and by the time I’d reached the exit the doors whooshed open automatically. I started through and almost ran into a man who was considerably larger than I was. Which is not an accomplishment, really, but he was bigger than even most guys. Tall, dark-skinned, and with eyes that showed no amusement whatsoever. I tried to remember if he’d looked this grim when last I’d seen him, and realized that if I had been dealing with what he’d been dealing with, I’d probably be grimmer, too.
“Hello, Senator,” I said, waving my hand.
Chapter 21
I stopped, realizing that the hospital gown had wide sleeves and I had nothing on underneath. I returned my arm to my side and stood there for a moment while Senator Robb Foreman looked at me in that humorless way. “So nice of you to come visit me while I’m under the weather.”
He did not even raise an eyebrow in amusement. “When are you not under the weather, Nealon?”
“I’ve actually been injured very little lately,” I said, caught a little off guard. “Comparatively speaking.” The number of injuries I’d received needed a bell curve to make the periods of over-achievement look less dramatic. “What brings you out here from Washington?” I frowned. “Or did you come from Tennessee?”
He didn’t look like he’d smiled in weeks. “Tennessee? Oh, yes, I remember Tennessee. It’s the state where I’m supposed to be living, except I’m not because Washington, D.C., owns me lock, stock and barrel. I haven’t been home for more than a night in months.”
He looked like he’d maybe put on a couple pounds since last we’d met, but he was so physically imposing it was hard to be sure. “Seems like—”
“Any cracks about my weight are sure to go unappreciated at the moment,” he said. Damn, he was good with those empathic powers of his. I was only going to dance lightly around the edge of it, but he’d caught enough sarcasm in my emotional state to figure out the probable angle of attack and preempt me. It reminded me, once again, why formidable was always at the top of my list when I searched for adjectives to describe him. He looked at my hospital gown again. “On your way to get clothes?”
I glanced down at the blue-spotted gown and noticed more than a few bloodstains coloring it as well. “I could walk around like this, but I think it would detract from my professional credibility.”
“No, no,” he said, and I caught a hint of give in his voice. “The blood adds an element of, ‘Do what I say or else.’ It’s a reputation enhancer.”
“The things you learn in Washington,” I murmured and stepped through the door to start down the hallway. He fell in beside me. “Since this isn’t a social call—”
“I’ve been getting reports from Li and Ariadne,” he said, back to being all business. “And I’ve read yours as well, when you’ve bothered to send them. I’ve also gotten the notices on things like that Century safe house in Henderson, Nevada.” He looked sidelong at me and I ignored it. “You could say I’m feeling concerned.”
“Glad I’m not the only one,” I said as we reached the stairs to the basement and started to descend. My voice took on an echoing quality as we walked, our footsteps bouncing off the walls around us, magnified like every other noise in this confined space. “Century hasn’t exactly been pulling their punches.”
“You’ve lost personnel to both death and attrition,” he said.
“We’re better off without the ones who have left,” I said. “And as for the dead—”
“You’ve left a trail of dead bodies behind you, both in numbers of people you work with who have died in this conflict as well as ones you’ve killed—” I got the feeling he was going off a list.
“This is war,” I said, waving a hand at him. “War with a highly capable adversary that outnumbers my little army by staggering margins. If you want something casualty-free, try the ballet. When you get super-powerful people with ill intentions coming your way, you better be ready for a violent soirée.”