They had two teams that provided protection and supplies, but they were of a type—a different type than the men in black—but a type of tough guy it should be hard to find.And he didn’t think they traveled through time.
His impression was that Jack wanted to minimize their footprints in time until they figured out if the opposition was a threat or a weird coincidence.
Bringing in Con was a change in tactics, Con assumed without anyone actually saying it.The fact that Con had died, might make him harder to track down.Con saw the flaws in that logic, but it did reduce the footprint.
Once, when he’d been alone with Jack, he’d pointed out the possibilities of the opposition setting a trap around Con.It was clear Jack had thought of it.He didn’t like it, but he’d thought about it.
It still surprised Con that the opposition hadn’t worked that hard to disguise themselves.Did this indicate a high level of confidence that they couldn’t be tracked?Or was thatthetrap?
Con hadn’t seen the evidence that the opposition was hunting them, but Jack and Mel seemed convinced.He figured they had good reason for it.
From what he could gather from everyone’s comments, the opposition had come close, very close.
And that is why they were working on constructing a trap for the opposition.But first they had to find one of them.
He glanced at the girl.If she was the trap then she was a very enticing one.He saw one problem with his assumption.She’d been as uneasy at the sight of the men in black as he’d been.
Of course, that could be part of the trap.But—shouldn’t she have let him come to her?He felt a tingle of unease.They couldn’t know who he was, could they?
He had to consider the idea, but the chance seemed a small one, since this was his first trip anywhere public.All his training trips had taken place around the silo.
Rita’s approach had been good.The entreaty in her eyes, the way she’d made sure he had a name to use, her smile—yeah, it had worked.He was walking down the street next to her.
He wished he knew what to do next.This hadn’t been in his brief.Could they—Jack and the others—see him now in their wall of old photos?
If they could, they wouldn’t be happy with him.
But if he’d refused to help her, wouldn’t that have looked more suspicious?
Con knew what people thought when they saw him.Ladies man.Smooth operator.
What they didn’t realize was that it was all on the surface.He’d attracted girls’ attention for as long as he could remember, but like most boys, he hadn’t known what to do with it.
So he’d bluffed.He’d bluffed so much, everyone thought he knew more than he did.When he was younger, he’d been afraid of being found out.
When he got older, well, the habit was thoroughly entrenched.He could walk the walk, talk, the talk—and then he’d slide away.
He was really good at doing it without leaving hard feelings behind.
He didn’t find his bluffing skills that helpful here.It was a problem—but one he was used to having.The thing about bluffing, he was always skating on thin ice.At least he was on mostly familiar ground, though real ice would be nice right now.
“Do you have a last name?”she asked, her voice low and a bit husky.
“Henry,” he said, and he had the papers to prove it if he had to.“Red Henry.”
“Red?”Her face turned, her brows arching over a gaze that appeared to be amused.
“My parents were lazy,” he said, finishing with a grin.“They named my sister Lavender.She doesn’t like it.”
She laughed then, the sound sending an odd sensation through his body.It wasn’t desire, though it would be easy to go that direction.No, this was more like…delight?It could be, though he wanted to shift uncomfortably at the idea.He knew the sound of her laugh made him happy.
“I’m Rita Rainey,” she said.
He was glad she’d offered it without him asking, because he hadn’t been planning to ask.He might be more than a bluffer.He could be clueless.One thing he liked about flying, he only had to talk over the radio and it had a format he could follow without thinking about it.
Rita.She looked like a Rita, though he didn’t think that could be her real name.Don’t give your real namewas one of the rules of time travel.He was better with rules than with people.
Through the window of a drug store he spotted the soda fountain and he steered her toward the door, pulling it open and waiting for her to enter.
