If they were going to Petworth, they had to be hooking. They were certainly young and foxy; sixteen, seventeen years old. Bayer could see himself having sex with the girls, and the image was beginning to overpower his imagination. He knew he ought to be careful. This could get completely out of hand. He was playing Shafer’s game, wasn’t he? And he liked it very much.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said to Microskirt.

“All right, darlin’,” she said. “Be one hundred for the half. Plus our ride to Petworth. That’s my proposition for you.”

Chapter 26

SHAFER LIKED TO KNOW when any of the other players traveled, especially if they came to Washington. He had gone to a lot of trouble to hack his way into their computers to keep track of them. Famine had recently bought plane tickets, and now he was here in D.C. Why?

It wasn’t hard to follow George Bayer once he got to town. Shafer was still reasonably good at it; he’d had plenty of practice in tracking and surveillance during his years in the Service.

He was disappointed that Famine had decided to “intersect” with his fantasy. Intersection happened occasionally in the game, but it was rare. Both players were supposed to agree beforehand. Famine was clearly breaking the rules. What did he know, or think he knew?

Then Bayer genuinely surprised him. Not only did he visit Shafer’s hideaway, but he actually took the taxi for a ride. What the hell was he doing?

At a little past two in the morning, Shafer watched the gypsy cab pick up two young girls in Shaw. Was Bayer copycatting? Was he setting some kind of trap for Shafer? Or was it something else altogether?

Bayer took the girls to S Street, which wasn’t far from the pickup point. He followed the girls up the darkened stairs of an aging brownstone, and then they all disappeared inside.

He had a blue anorak thrown over his right arm and Shafer suspected that a pistol was under the coat. Christ! He’d taken two of them. He could have been seen by anyone on the street. The cab could have been spotted.

Shafer parked on the street. He waited and watched. He didn’t like being in this part of Shaw, especially without his disguise, and driving the Jaguar. There were some old crumbling brownstones and a couple of boarded-up, graffiti-covered shacks on the street. No one was outside.

He saw a light blink on the top floor and figured that was where Bayer had taken the two girls. Probably their flat.

He watched the brownstone from two until close to four. He couldn’t take his eyes away. While he waited, he imagined dozens of scenarios that might have brought Famine here. He wondered if the others were in Washington, too. Or was Famine acting alone? Was he playing the Four Horsemen right now?