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.Cam sank onto the sofa along the wall, and Benford sat across from him in an upholstered chair, with a legal pad in his lap.“How are you holding up, Cameron?” the man asked.Cam gazed at him coolly.Benford was average height, with medium brown hair and dark eyes.Everything about his demeanor was unremarkable, and very, very deceptive.“Fair, I guess.”“You know I want more than that.You had a very serious motorcycle accident, which we’re now pretty sure was no accident at all.Your roommate was murdered.We think the two events are somewhat likely to be connected.And Peter told me that you have serious pain management issues that he is actively trying to resolve.That’s an awful lot on your plate.” Benford waited in silence for Cam to respond.The mention of the whole pain issue brought a sharp image to Cam’s mind: Mason Flynn -- the short dark hair, the intensity of his blue eyes, the feel of his hands against Cam’s skin, the warmth of his kiss.The psychologist raised an eyebrow in question and Cam hastily slammed his psychic shielding tightly shut.It wasn’t like it would actually keep Benford out of his head if the psychologist really wanted to press the issue, but it would at least get the point across.Benford was no less Talented than any of the other core staff of Division P.He was an extremely powerful telepath with a flair for mental dominance.In other words, he was capable of ramming his way into another’s mind and forcing cooperation.In another setting or from another man it might have bordered on a version of rape.But when the suicide rate of Division P was an astronomical 8%, he had been known to violate of few ethics in order to save a life.“Who is he?” Benford asked.“A friend.”“His image evokes strong emotions.”“Yeah, well, he saved my life.He’s scraped me off the highway and held me together till the ambulance could get there.”“Ah.And you feel you owe him?”“No… yes… not the way you mean…”“Your file says Daniel picked you up from this man’s house.”“Yeah, after I found Keith dead in the apartment, I needed a place to stay.” It was a half-truth, and Cam knew it.He wondered if Benford would call him on it.But the psychologist followed a different line.“Describe your relationship with Lieutenant Commander Keith Haverty,” prompted Benford.***Another rather uncomfortable half an hour inched by as Cam was asked about the depth of his guilt regarding Keith’s death, his own brush with mortality, and his stubborn reticence about accepting help in dealing with his physical recovery issues.Peter had been busily kicking his ass on that front, too.After the end of the session, Cam went back to his quarters.He was tired and annoyed and felt like he had been put through an emotional wringer, but then he guessed that was sort of the point.He flung himself onto the bed, and closed his eyes.He hadn’t called Mason since he got here.It wasn’t like they had a relationship.A slightly less than straight hetero Navy flyboy buddying up with a gay orthopedic surgeon.Oh yeah, that was recipe for disaster.But his gut was trying to tell him otherwise.The guy had cared far more than the situation seemed to warrant.He had taken Cam into his home and into his bed and cared for him, physically and emotionally, as Cam had fallen from one disaster into another.Cam scrubbed his hand across his eyes.Just call the guy, let him know you’re doing okay, and move on, Cam told himself.He hauled his body up off the bed and went out to the desk in the other room.There was a laptop on it and he did a quick internet search to find Mason’s number.He was subtly amused that Mason’s phone number wasn’t even unlisted to the public.That just fit his personality so thoroughly, to leave himself so accessible.He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number.It rang several times before it picked up.“Hello,” said Mason.“Hey.It’s Cam Bradshaw.”“It’s been a few days.I wasn’t really expecting to hear from you again,” replied Flynn.Oh, ouch, that stung, and he deserved it.“Sorry, I um… should’ve called sooner, to let you know I’m okay.Things are a little chaotic around here.Debriefing stuff and all.”“How’re you coping with the pain?” the doctor asked.“Fair.It’s being… handled.” Cam wanted so badly to tell Mason that he was being treated by another healer, one that fully comprehended the narcotics and lack of shielding link.Peter was good, obscenely good, but it was all about healing his body, nothing else, no emotional connection.“They sending you back to the base any time soon?”“No, not yet.The other stuff is… ongoing,” Cam said.There was really so very little he could tell Mason about the missing pair of operatives and the equally missing missile prototype.Or the apparent fact that someone knew he had been assigned to help recover it and was very willing to commit murder to short circuit the process.“Mmm, way cloak and dagger,” commented Mason.“I wish I could tell you more, but there are security issues.”“Listening to you almost makes me paranoid enough to believe somebody really was in my house.”Cam’s hand clenched on the phone.“Say that again.”“Listening to you makes me paranoid?”“No, the part about somebody in your house.”“Forget it, it’s been a really busy couple of days.”“What happened? Did they take anything?”“No, no, I’m just hallucinating.I thought somebody moved some of my stuff around and remade my bed.How’s that for really losing my mind?”“Shit.Shit.Shit,” said Cam.“Do you own a gun?”“No.I’m a doctor.What the hell would I do with a gun?”“You could be in danger.If they saw you with me at the murder scene, they might assume you were helping me.Not medically, I mean classified stuff.Lock your doors.Don’t let anyone in.I’ll call you back in about half an hour.Okay?”“Cam…I’m sure it’s…” Mason began.“Visualize Keith in my apartment,” growled Cam, cutting him off.“It’s a pretty sure thing he was killed because of his link to me.You’re linked to me.And you have no fucking idea how to defend yourself.Stay put.Stay by the phone.Got it?”“Yeah, I got it.”Cam hung up, and dialed the internal number.Comeoncomeoncomeon pick up, his brain demanded.“Valentine,” the field agent answered.“Dan.I have a situation.”“Here?”“No.In Virginia Beach.Remember the doctor whose house I was at when you picked me up? He thinks somebody’s been in his house.”“He got robbed?”“No, no, more like cased.Subtle stuff [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]