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By the time I emerge, Brennan is passing out paper plates. The smell of grease makes my mouth water. I thought I wasn’t hungry, but I am suddenly ravenous.
“Did we get hot mustard?” I ask, and Jones passes a couple of packets in my direction.
As we eat, Yulikova puts a map on the table. It’s of an open area, a park. “Like I said in the car, this is a very straightforward plan. Complications are to be avoided. We wouldn’t allow you to be part of an operation we weren’t very confident in, Cassel. We understand that you’re inexperienced.
“Governor Patton is giving a press conference on the site of one of the former worker internment camps. He’d like to position Proposition 2 as helping workers, but he’d also like to subtly remind everyone to be afraid.”
She takes out a ballpoint pen from her jacket and marks an X on a clearing. “You’ll be here the whole time, in one of the trailers. The only real danger is that you’re going to be bored.”
I smile and take another bite of my kung pao chicken. I get a hot pepper and try to ignore my burning tongue.
“They’re going to build a stage there.” She touches the page. “And a trailer for Patton to get dressed in will go here. Over this way are a few other trailers for his staff to work out of. We’ve managed to get one that we’re assured can be kept secure.”
“So I’m going to be by myself?”
She smiles. “We’ll have people everywhere outside, posing as local police. We also have a few people in Patton’s security detail. You’ll be in good hands.”
Which makes sense, sort of. But it also makes sense that if I’m alone in the room and I come out and attack Patton, I’ll look like I was acting alone. The Feds will be off the hook.
“What about security cameras?” I ask.
Agent Brennan raises her eyebrows.
“Because it’s outdoors, there aren’t any,” Yulikova says, “but what we need to worry about are press cameras.” She makes a blue dot in front of where she marked the stage. “The press pit is here, but there will be vans parked in the lot over there, where our vehicles will be too. If you stay in the trailer, you should be out of sight.”
I nod.
Agent Jones serves himself another pile of sesame chicken and rice, squirting soy sauce over the whole thing.
“Governor Patton is going to make a brief speech, and then he’s going to answer questions from reporters,” Yulikova says. “You’re going to slip into one of the trailers and stay there until Governor Patton takes the stage. We have a monitor set up so that you can watch the local news. They’re broadcasting the event live.”
“What’s the speech supposed to be about?”
Yulikova coughs discreetly. “Senator Raeburn has attacked Patton in the press. This is supposed to be his chance to redirect the conversation—and to reach out to the rest of the country. If Proposition 2 passes in New Jersey, other states will start drafting similar legislation.”
“Okay, so I wait until Patton leaves the stage. Then what? Do I count to three and jump out at him?”
“We have a uniform for you. You’ll have a clipboard and headset mic. You’ll look like one of the crew backstage. And we have a specially formulated black ink that covers your hand. It looks like you’re wearing a glove, but your fingers will remain bare.”
“Clever.” I am eager to see that stuff. My grandfather would be happy to know that the government really has been holding out on us in terms of secret cool toys. Too bad I can’t tell him.
“While Patton is giving his speech, you will move to his dressing room and wait for him there. When he comes in, well, it’s a pretty tight space. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get your hands on him. We’ll be able to communicate with you through the headset, so if you have any questions or want to know the position of the governor, we will be able to give you all the support you need.”
I nod again. It’s not a terrible plan. It’s a lot less complicated than Philip’s whole lurk-around-the-bathroom-all-night scheme for killing Zacharov. It’s also eerily similar. I guess transformation work assassinations all have a certain pattern.
“So, okay. Governor Patton’s a borzoi. Everyone’s freaking out. Now what? What’s my exit strategy? I have a minute or two—maybe less—before the blowback hits. His bodyguards are right outside.”
She makes a circle on the paper where the trailer is. “Figure the confrontation happens here.”
Agent Brennan leans forward to see the mark.
“The bodyguard who’s in our employ—the man who’s going to be on the left—will explain that Patton doesn’t want to be disturbed. Patton will doubtless be in great distress, but—”
“Doubtless,” I say.
No one ever laughs at this stuff.
“We believe his erratic behavior makes it likely that our agent will be able to explain away the scuffle and the sounds that follow. When you’re ready, let us know through the headset and we’ll get you both out of there.”
