He sat down across from her, ordered a coffee, and fingered the plastic menu she

slid across to him. “You look good,” he said.

 

She took a sip of coffee, gave him a blank stare, and said, “Don’t try to play

nice. You are already on my last nerve.” “Didn’t know that.” “Like hell.” He sat

forward. “You eating?” “I’m close to pulling out my gun and shooting you.” He

looked down at the menu. “Let me order first. I’d rather die on a full belly.

I’m going to have the All-American. Lots of carbs and protein. From your

expression I’m going to need it.” She watched him order and then shook her head

when the waitress turned to her for her order.

 

The waitress left and Knox sat forward. “Well? You called the meeting.” Ten

minutes passed and Puller talked the whole time, telling Knox in

information-filled paragraphs almost everything he had learned since he had last

seen her, including following Helen Myers to Building Q where she had met up

with Josh Quentin. And the French gent who’d taken a morning train to

Washington, D.C. And about Paul the bouncer and his extraordinary fighting

abilities. He pulled out his camera and showed her the pictures he’d taken. When

he got to the more technical frames Knox focused even more intently. “Puller,

this one has to do with cell mutation.” She forwarded the frame. “And this one

looks like it’s some sort of organ regeneration concept.” “Well, I’m glad you

can make some sense of it.” “If they were passing secrets I thought it would be

dealing with the exoskeletons and liquid armor the woman told you she was

working on there. This stuff isn’t military-grade material.” The next moment his

breakfast showed up.