Caitlin frowned, unsure of which way to jump. Culver had made it clear that he was interested in anything to do with Blackstone’s complicity in the attacks on those homesteaders down in the Mandate. But he’d also stated that anything besides tying Blackstone to Ahmet Ozal was of secondary importance.

‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt,’ she said, opting to cover both bases. ‘Mister Culver is very interested in the security situation down in the Mandate. As you’d know. I can’t say if this plays into that in any way, but if he wanted you to reach out to me, I guess I need to take a look at what you have. I’ll be down in the foyer in a minute or two.’

‘Oh, that’s fine. I’m on my way out the door now. See you in five.’

He broke the connection. Caitlin forced herself to make one last check of the room before putting a call into the security detail to let them know she was leaving. Two uniformed Protective Service officers appeared at her door less than a minute later. Their ready-room was just down the hallway. She handed over her pass and confirmed the presence of the files in the safe before she left.

The same two air force men – officers, as it turned out – she’d seen in the gym the previous night were waiting at the elevator when she arrived.

‘Think we’ll get to fly this month?’ one asked the other.

His friend shook his head. ‘Nope. Shot our wad over New York. I reckon that was the last flight of the Buffs for a while.’

Caitlin took the information in without comment as they all stepped into the lift. Probably pilots from Whiteman on a pass. She turned up the frost on her stone face to its most glacial. The ride down to the lobby was excruciating.

‘Dyke,’ one of them muttered as she strode out through the sliding doors.

Almost certainly the guy who had tried to catch her attention over by the treadmills. An egomaniacal man-child. It was a pity she had no compelling reason to engage them in character as Colonel Murdoch. Could’ve been useful practice, tearing this asshole a new one.

She turned into the marble lobby. At least it looked like marble; it could just as likely have been some sort of veneer, she wasn’t sure. The whole place had been completely refitted during reclamation. As she wheeled her luggage over to the counter, Caitlin passed a dark spot scoured onto the otherwise smooth, creamy surface. She wondered if she’d just passed over the final resting places of one of the Disappeared. Screens above the desk ran news feeds, the local weather radar and flight information for Charles B. Wheeler Downtown Airport. She considered buying a trinket from the gift shop to take home to Monique, before thinking better of it.