Blindsided Read Online Free PDF Page B

chip.”
    He glanced at Teigan, a brow raised in question. Teigan had the grace to grunt an affirmative. Whitesman had admitted that the implanted chips had never been removed. Now, since Noah’s death, Garret’s location was being constantly monitored and recorded.
    “I thought so.” Garret soothed the slight tick in his jaw with some amber liquid. “Did Whitesman tell you they monitor all activities on my communications system? That they have a direct feed to my screens? Did he mention that beyond all the spot checks, I go in for evaluation each month to ensure I’m healthy, sane, and not divulging any top secrets?”
    Here was the bitterness Teigan would’ve expected from a man under constant watch, the resentment that came with knowing the freedom he’d been given was a façade. A thin one at that. “I’m sure it’s in the file.”
    “Which Whitesman didn’t give you.”
    “He gave me the relevant parts for this assignment.”
    Garret scoffed. “Yeah. Sure. So you know my schedule, my shoe size, that I like pasta and hamburgers, and I always have a game on the screen, but can you impersonate me?”
    Teigan considered. Not ten minutes ago he’d concluded masquerading as his brother would be easy enough. Just pretend he was a robot and go about Garret’s daily business. Now he wasn’t so sure.
    Garret cleared his throat, the frustrated lines of his face smoothing out. “Sorry. That was out of line. Tell me what else you need to know.”
    “What I need to know right now?” Teigan asked.  
    Garret nodded.  
    “Right now, I need to know how you put up with all this crap.”
    Garret gave a slow blink, his face shuttered. “What crap, sir?”
    “That crap. Cut it out.” Teigan waved a hand around the room. “There are no ears in here other than our own and I’m not going to run back to Whitesman and give him a blow-by-blow report of our conversation.”
    Mistrust brewed in Garret’s eyes. “Why not?”
    “Because although I may not have taken a blood oath with you, we do share the same blood.” His eyes met Garret’s, held. “I am your brother, Garret, give me a chance.”
    Garret didn’t answer, his gaze slid to the screen where the faint outline of Morris’s black camouflage could be discerned against a set of hedges. It drove home the fact that Garret considered the fellow Viadal soldier more of a brother than he did his own flesh and blood. Teigan supposed that was to be expected, understandable even. What he didn’t expect was for the subtle rejection to cut so deep.
    “Okay. Forget I said anything.” Teigan took a chug of his beer, sanitizing the wound that shouldn’t even be there with the alcoholic cure-all. “Anyone you hang out with or talk to?” He pressed because he needed to look into the possibility of a conspiracy, not because he wanted to know. Lame, Teigan.
    Garret gestured toward the screen he continued to stare at. “Morris. Sometimes Carthridge or Nolan when they’re off duty.” He hesitated. “But lately that’s been less and less.”
    “Why’s that?”
    Garret shrugged as if the reason didn’t matter, but explained anyway. “I’m no longer part of the team. It’s all they know, it’s what we were made for. They can’t imagine not doing the job.”
    “So, why aren’t you doing it?”  
    Garret chuckled and his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Maybe you should ask Whitesman. He has his own pet theory.”
    Teigan already knew Whitesman’s theory: That Garret didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone. Cold as a snake, without emotion. On this John and Whitesman seemed to agree. Teigan didn’t, not anymore.
    “Who do you think is doing this?” he asked Garret, genuinely curious as to whether the former V-10 had any ideas. “Everyone seems certain it has to be one of Viadal’s boy’s.”
    “It’s one of Viadal’s. No regular human could sneak up on and snap a V-10’s neck.”
    Teigan looked at him skeptically. “You think so.”
    Garret