Very wrong.
Chapter Thirteen
Sam spent several fruitless hours apartment hunting, then gave up and went back to SIU headquarters.
The estate agent had given her a vague idea of what her apartment would fetch, and while it was a sizeable sum, to buy anything close to the city was going to cost her almost double that. She'd have to go further afield — which meant, in turn, either buying a car or putting up with the overcrowded transport system for a good hour each day. The twenty minutes she suffered now was more than enough.
She dumped her bag on the floor beside her desk and flopped back in her chair. For tonight, at least, she'd have to find a hotel.
"Computer on."
Izzy appeared. "You have a call, sweetness. General Frank Lloyd."
"Fuck." She rubbed her eyes. The last thing she wanted, either now or anytime in the immediate future, was to speak to the general. She couldn't shake the image of a crocodile toying with its prey — that prey being her.
"Put him onscreen, Iz."
The general's powerful features appeared. A chill ran over her skin. This man would play some part in her future, and none of it would be good.
She rubbed her arms. "What can I do for you, general?"
"The question is more, what can I do for you."
His smile made her skin crawl. "General, it's been a long day. Just get to the point."
He raised a bushy eyebrow. "Given your questions regarding the Generation Eighteen project, I thought you would be interested to know that we've discovered the identity of the man who hacked into our system."
And he'd only just discovered this name? Somehow, she doubted it. "It's not Michael Sanders, I suppose?"
The general frowned. "No. Orrin Whittiker."
He seemed to place an odd emphasis on the man's name. Was she supposed to know the man? "Who is?"
"A reject from a different project."
"Jesus, general, how many rejects do you have wandering around the streets?"
"At last count, one hundred and forty-five. There could be one or two more I don't know about, though."
One hundred and forty-five rejected children. How many successes must they have had? How many deaths? If what Mary said was true, then the latter number, at least, was very high.
"Do you keep track of all your rejects?"
"Oh yes. We can't afford not to."
Then Hopeworth had known about the murders. Had known, but had done nothing. "Do you intend to pick up this Orrin Whittiker?"
"We thought you might choose to. He might be able to assist in your inquiries. Once you have questioned him, we'd appreciate you handing him over to us."
That was not up to her. "What project was Orrin rejected from?"
"I cannot tell you that."
"General, I need to know what to expect when I go after this man."
The general hesitated, his eyes going curiously blank. There was no doubt that he was telepathic — and right now, he was obviously contacting higher authorities.
"Orrin," he continued, barely skipping a beat. "Would be of an unusual height and girth. He would also be extremely strong."