“A different type of personnel? What does that mean?”

Scott says, “Ed opted for digital surveillance primarily. He said you already had the equipment on hand, so it made sense. But the manpower, it was getting stretched thin, specifically with the Seattle operation. Unless you started using more outside contractors, and he thought that wouldn’t be safe.”

“We have men all over the world. How are we suddenly having a shortage?”

“He said he couldn’t use just anyone. He said they all had to be briefed on Project Bluebird, and that meant he had to trust them first.”

It takes Cole a second or two to realize his splitting headache and spinning vision are the result of the fact that he’s not actually breathing. This is beyond Ed having been obstinate, or difficult, or overcautious. This is something else, and he’s having trouble admitting it.

“Tell me the Med Ranch is intact,” Cole says.

“Absolutely. And it’s fully operational. But they’re just doctors there, Mr. Graydon. They’re not strike capable, either.”

Under no circumstances can they let Charley walk into a regular doctor’s office or even an ER. Not for a cold, not for a broken leg. While her Zypraxon exposures don’t seem to be leaving any telltale traces in her system for now, who knows when that could change? And given the email from Kelley Chen the other day, who knows what might develop inside of Charley’s blood? Or what might never develop.

“I’m probably not going to want to hear this,” Cole finally says, “but what’s our response time if there’s an attack on Charley?”

“However long it takes a team to get here from San Diego or San Francisco.”

Scott barks, “That’s an exaggeration, Fred.”

“Only slightly,” Fred says. “But let me just say this before I get fired. I know that Ed and I go way back, but I’m not some Baker loyalist here. This situation here’s a mess, and I flagged it constantly. And apparently he never took it up the ladder like he promised.”

“What’s the point of a system that monitors everything that happens here if we can’t do anything about it? What was his plan? Fly a cloud of microdrones into Prescott’s house if someone moves on her?”

“He was afraid, sir,” Scott says. “Of your mother and the board finding out about all this. He kept talking about silent partners coming onboard, and once they did, you’d have more funding and we could up our game on the ground here, but until then—”

“Bullshit,” Cole whispers. “This is sabotage. He wanted a security failure out here so he could make a case for throwing her in a lab forever.”

After a moment of brittle silence, Scott says, “I’m not sure I can dispute that allegation, sir.”

“Neither can I,” Fred says.

“But, sir,” Scott says. “With respect—”

“Just stop calling me sir.”

“Mr. Graydon,” Scott says quietly. “I say this with the utmost respect as your new security director, who only wants to serve your needs. While I disagree completely with Ed’s insubordination, there is still a very valid school of thought that letting her live out here is too risky.”

I’m starting to agree with you, he thinks. But that’s not a conversation he can have with them now. It’s not a conversation that should involve Fred at all. Not yet. And it leaves the pesky problem of how to handle the two men in Charlotte’s life, who are both being bigger pains in his ass than Charlotte.

“What would it take to get some real security around her right away?” Cole asks.

“It would help if we could assess the nature of the threat,” Scott answers.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jordy Clements. She needs this kind of protection all the time.”

“So you don’t believe Jordy Clements presents a threat at this time?”

“I think Jordy Clements is a garbage fire, but I’m not sure what type of garbage or how hot he’s going to burn. Meanwhile, I think the peanut gallery back there needs to lay off the caffeine and take up mah-jongg. How’s that?”

“If there’s any way you could be more specific . . .” Scott says.

“Digital services is investigating Jordy now. We’ll wait and see what they turn up. But I just stood there and told them they were all safe. And now I find out Ed completely fucked things up here, and on purpose. We have them constantly monitored, but we can’t do anything other than call them if something goes wrong? Jesus!”

“Just ask for what you want and I’ll make it happen,” Scott says.

“I want a five-man team, in a van, with Prescott’s house in sight at all times until further notice. Whenever she leaves, I want them following her. How long before we can put that in place?”

“That depends on their capabilities,” Scott says. “Their skill set, I mean.”

“I want them capable of scaring the living shit out of anyone who approaches her with what looks like a bad motive. And if they’re not easy to scare, I want them taken out and gotten rid of. How’s that sound?”

Scott nods, even though it’s clear that once again he’d like Cole to be more specific. Soon he’ll learn. This is Cole being specific.

“I’d say in the morning at the earliest,” Scott says, “unless we scramble guys here from Stonecut Ridge.”