The Chemist

“Your office is far away.”

“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “It’s a hell of a commute.”

“Where do you live?”

“Bethesda.”

“That’s a nice place. Columbia Heights is not so nice. My part of it, at least.”

The cab started moving again. She was pleased; the plan was going very well. Even if they’d clocked her getting on and off the last train, they’d be hard-pressed to keep track of one cab in a sea of identical cabs twisting together through rush hour. Preparation felt like a magic spell sometimes. Like you could force events into the shape you wanted just by planning them thoroughly enough.

Daniel wasn’t as talkative now. This was the second phase of the drug’s action, and he would be getting more tired. She needed him to stay awake just a little bit longer.

“Why did you give me your number?” she asked when his lids started to droop.

He smiled dreamily. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Me either.”

“I’ll probably be embarrassed about it later.”

“Not if I call you, though, right?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, it was out of character.”

“So why did you do it?”

His soft eyes never left hers. “I like your face.”

“You mentioned that.”

“I really wanted to see it again. That made me brave.”

She frowned, guilt pulsing.

“Does that sound weird?” He seemed worried.

“No, it sounds very sweet. Not many men would tell a woman something like that.”

He blinked owlishly. “I wouldn’t usually. Too… cowardly.”

“You seem pretty brave to me.”

“I feel different. I think it’s you. I felt different as soon as I saw you smile.”

As soon as I roofied you, she amended in her head.

“Well, that’s quite a compliment,” she said. “And here we go, can you get up?”

“Sure. This is the airport.”

“Yes, that’s where my car is.”

His brow furrowed, then cleared. “Did you just get back from a trip?”

“I just got into town, yes.”

“I go on trips sometimes. I like to go to Mexico.”

She glanced up sharply. He was staring ahead, watching where he was walking. There was no sign of distress on his face. If she pushed him toward a secret, anything that was a pressure point, his docility would turn to suspicion. He might latch on to another stranger as his leader and try to escape. He might get agitated and call attention to her.

“What do you like about Mexico?” she asked carefully.

“The weather is hot and dry. I enjoy that. I’ve never lived in a really hot place, but I think I would like it. I get burned, though. I’ve never been able to tan. You look like you’ve spent some time in the sun.”

“No, just born this way.” She got her coloring from her absentee father. Genetic testing had informed her that he was a mix of many things, predominantly Korean, Hispanic, and Welsh. She’d always wondered what he’d looked like. The combination with her mother’s Scottish background had created in her an oddly ordinary face – she could have been from almost anywhere.

“That must be nice. I have to use sunblock, a lot of sunblock. Or I peel. It’s disgusting. I shouldn’t tell you that.”

She laughed. “I promise to forget it. What else do you like?”

“Working with my hands. I help build houses. Not in a skilled way; I just hammer where they tell me to. But the people are so kind and generous. I love that part.”

It was all very convincing, and she felt a thrill of fear. How could he stick to the story so well, so effortlessly, with the chemicals moving through his system right now? Unless he’d built up a resistance somehow. Unless her department had created an antidote, unless they’d prepped him and he was playing her. The goose bumps stood up on the back of her neck. It didn’t have to be the department that had prepared him. It could be his interactions with de la Fuentes. Who knew what kind of results strange drugs interacting with her own would have? She touched her tongue to the false cap on her back tooth. The department would have just killed her if that were the goal. De la Fuentes would probably want to punish her for attempting to interrupt his plans. But how would he know in advance? How could Daniel have made her as an opposing agent so quickly? She didn’t even actually work for anyone anymore.

Stick to the plan, she told herself. Get him in the car and you’re in the clear. Sort of.

“I like the houses there, too,” he was saying. “You never close the windows, just let the air blow through. Some don’t even have glass. It’s a lot nicer than Columbia Heights, I can tell you. Maybe not nicer than Bethesda. I bet doctors live in nice houses.”

“Not me. Boring vanilla apartment. I don’t spend much time there, so it doesn’t matter.”

He nodded sagely. “You’re out saving lives.”

“Well, not really. I’m not an ER doctor or anything.”

“You’re saving my life.” Wide gray-green eyes, total trust. She knew that if this behavior was genuine, it was the drug talking. But it still made her uneasy.

She could only keep playing her role.

“I’m just checking up on you. You’re not dying.” That much was true. The boys back at the department might have ended up killing this man. At least she could spare him that. Though… after she prevented the catastrophe, Daniel Beach would never see the outside of a prison cell again. Which made her feel…