“That’s good,” Martin said, exhaling. “I’ll stay here until he’s out of the woods.”
“So will I.”
He shook his head. “I’m calling you back in, Gretchen. You don’t have any backup now, and gunmen on your trail means this job’s too dangerous to do on your own. Cooper, when the time comes to complete this trip we’ll want a heavily armored transport van and a couple of Marshals riding shotgun. I’m sure you understand.”
“I do,” Cooper said quietly. “I want Gretchen to be safe.”
But it was like a light had gone out somewhere in those clear green eyes. It almost broke Gretchen’s heart.
Maybe that was what made her argue with Martin when that was something she hardly ever did.
“Chief, I don’t know that that’s the right call.”
Martin wasn’t the kind of boss to get angry at his opinion being challenged. He just looked curious. “All right. What are you thinking?”
“Whoever shot at us was after us because of Cooper. They could have hit me—they had a perfectly good opportunity—but they didn’t. They barely cared about me at all. In fact, I think they even wanted me and Keith alive, just so they wouldn’t have the hassle of the investigation they’d get for killing two federal Marshals. You know that brings down the kind of heat that leaves scorched earth behind.”
Martin nodded. “We’d hunt them to the ends of the earth.” His voice was somber and absolutely sure, and Gretchen had no doubt he meant it.
For Martin, though, that loyalty wasn’t because she was a Marshal. Not entirely. Gretchen knew that to him, she was one of his herd. To Colby, they were a pack. To Theo, they were a village, a better one than the snobby, claustrophobic place he’d left behind.
To Gretchen, they were purely and simply family. And it was time she started trusting this family the way Martin trusted his herd. It was time she started trusting their faith in her.
She said, “They were after Cooper, period. And if we wait on getting more secure transportation, that means that for right now, we’re seeing him back to either the prison that’s already proven they can’t keep him safe or a small town jail guys like this could get into without breaking a sweat. He’ll be a sitting duck.”
“And if you keep hauling him cross-country, all you’ll be is a moving duck. They’ve already shown they can hit one of those just fine.”
“True. But they have to be expecting us to split up at this point. If they’re watching the hospital—and I almost guarantee you they are—they’re going to be looking for a van hauling Coop back to the Stridmont Penitentiary.”
She realized she’d slipped up and called him not only Cooper but Coop, but Martin hadn’t flinched or looked disapproving at how informal she’d gotten with a prisoner. He only looked quietly thoughtful, like he was taking all this in.
“If Cooper and I leave together and keep heading west to Bergen, we’ll have the element of surprise, at least.”
“But whoever’s chasing us has unusual tools at their disposal,” Cooper said.
Martin didn’t act like Coop throwing in his two cents was that weird either. He just said, “What do you mean?”
“They have some way of putting people in a hypnotic state. Making them confused, messing with their memories and perceptions. We’ve been seeing things.”
“Some kind of gas, we’re thinking,” Gretchen said. She wasn’t letting the phrase “fear gas” cross her lips this time. Martin would take her seriously no matter what, but there was no reason to make it hard for him.
“But maybe not,” Cooper said. “Whatever it is, it’s strong enough that it should make us all nervous.”
“But at least Cooper and I know that it’s out there. We know a little bit about what we’re dealing with. We’ve come face to face with these guys, and we’re still alive. We’ll be more prepared next time.” She took a deep breath. Absolute trust, she reminded herself. Absolute truthfulness. “Let me stay on the road with him, chief. I feel like it’s the right thing to do.”
He studied her. “You won’t make it to Bergen tonight, you know. You still have the same problem you had before: they can track you to a small town jail, and Cooper’s vulnerable there.”
“We can spend the night in a motel,” Gretchen said. “I’ll find one of those cheap roadside places, and I’m sure they’ll be happy to take the government stipend for housing a prisoner overnight.”
Martin winced. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to fill out the budget request for that.”
“There’s a supplementary form you can use,” Cooper said unexpectedly. “12D. You just attach it to the travel voucher, and it’s a lot easier than filling out a separate room requisition request.”
“12D supplemental, huh?” Martin looked thoughtful. “I’ll try that. Thanks, Cooper.”
“Then it’s a deal?” Gretchen said.
He nodded. “I trust your judgment. But if you’re going to do this, you need to get on the road as soon as possible, and I saw your car in the parking lot. It looks lik