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“Well fuck,” Smith muttered.
“He contacted Langley,” Nebraska rightly surmised.
“Yes. He also sent pictures,” I told her. “Though Smith and I were taken out of the images, they just show you walking into Carver’s apartment.”
“That tracks.”
I shifted enough to glance in the back. Nebraska was behind Smith so I had a clear view of her hands clasped in her lap, knuckles white.
Her voice didn’t denote the white knuckles.
But she was anxious and doing a damn good job of masking it.
“How does that track?”
“He knows better than to bring Zane into the mix just yet. President Graham might not be to Zane what President Anderson was and contrariwise Graham might not have that bond with Zane that Anderson does. But it’s still no secret Zane has Graham’s respect, and more importantly his ear. Maddon’s not ready to tip the scale.”
It was impressive, all of it, how deeply Nebraska understood not only Maddon but the strategies of battle. It was one thing to know a person, their motives, and because of that predict their next move, and seeing the bigger picture—the battlefield as a whole and with that the tactics.
Nebraska saw everything.
“What’s he waiting for?” I asked.
“Chaos.”
She’d said that before. And this time it was no less helpful than the last.
“What kind of chaos?”
“The kind that sends Zane scrambling.”
I’d heard that before, too.
We were back to riddles and word games.
I wasn’t a fan.
Nebraska must’ve read my expression because hers changed.
That meant when she muttered, “I want to tell you but I can’t.” Her face softened and I almost believed her.
Almost.
“You can—”
“I can’t, Easton. This is what Maddon wants. This right here. He put me on this path; it’s a no-win for any of us. You want the truth, I can’t give it, so you continue not to trust me. I keep you in the dark, you don’t have the full scope, it puts you at a disadvantage. The other option is I tell you everything in an attempt to win your trust, prove I trust you and I’m the one who causes the war. Lose-lose for me. Win-win for Maddon.”
Yep, she fully grasped tactics.
“War?”
She nodded.
My gaze dropped back to her hands. Her knuckles were no longer white but only because she was now pulsing them together. Anxiety had turned into apprehension.
She was nervous and couldn’t hide it.
I turned back, pausing to take in Smith’s profile. He was concentrating on the road but his jaw was set to pissed.
