Page 30 of Whisper


Font Size:

“Cooper, I need to know?—”

“Talk while walking.”

I grab her hand and pull her toward the garage exit. Her fingers are soft, warm, smaller than mine in a way that makes something protective flare in my chest. I like the feel of her hand in mine.

It feels normal, walking with her, holding her hand. I don’t do this with any other protection details, but I’m doing it with her, and I don’t know what that means. But it can’t be good.

Dangerous territory.

The street level bustles with typical D.C. foot traffic—tourists, business people, students. Perfect cover, except for the surveillance cameras mounted on every corner. I keep Dr. Wren close, her body shielding part of my profile from overhead angles.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asks, slightly breathless from keeping up with my pace.

“Safe house.”

“You said that before. Where is this safe house?”

“Secure location.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”

EIGHT

Cooper

UNDERGROUND

A convenience storeappears on the corner ahead, the kind of place that sells everything from magazines to basic clothing. Perfect.

“In here,” I say, pulling her toward the entrance.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Clothing change.”

“What’s wrong with what we’re wearing?”

“They’re tracking our appearance.”

Inside, I grab an armload of items—three different T-shirts for her, three for me, a baseball cap, and new sunglasses. The clerk barely looks up from his phone as I dump cash on the counter.

“Bathroom,” I tell Dr. Wren, handing her the shirts. “Change into one of these. Keep the jeans and shoes.”

“Which one?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just different.”

While she disappears into the small bathroom, I pull on a plain black T-shirt over my tactical vest, switching out my jacketfor a navy hoodie from the rack. The baseball cap sits low over my eyes, and the new sunglasses complete the transformation.

When she emerges wearing a bright blue T-shirt that makes her eyes stand out even more, I hand her the remaining clothes.

“Carry these. We’ll change again later.”

“This is insane.”

“This is survival.”