This is the rough draft of Grub Stage, book 3 in Renegade Agents of A.R.S.A. Click here to get the first two books in this series.
He drew back his head and raised his eyebrows. Then he put a
finger under the flap and ripped it open, pulled the documents out of the
envelope and began reading them. His brows formed furrows between his eyes as his
eyes scanned the contents.
Playing my cards
The doctor suddenly pushed on the door to make sure it was closed and sat on his backless roller stool. Color slowly drained from his face starting at the eyes and radiated outwards the more he read. He swallowed hard and darted his eyes from the page to my face and quickly back to the page. His shoulders drooped and his hands began to shake.
“Where did you get this?” His voice was barely above a whisper but I heard him plainly enough. He put one hand up to rub his mouth and chin.
“Like I said, a friend gave it to me to give to you. He – or she, didn’t ask me to pass on their identity. So I won’t. They did ask me to let you know that’s only a copy, though.”
He nodded silently and put everything back into the envelope.
“What do you want?” he asked, without looking at me.
I had actually thought a lot about this since Cory gave me the envelope. I didn’t know how much buying power the documents would offer, so I planned for the least and hoped for the most. Looked like I’d suddenly gotten quite wealthy.
“Three things. First. If my parents are alive, I want to see them. If they’re not alive, I want to know that, too.” He looked at me now. And the sour smell of his fear engulfed me. “Second, I don’t want any implants at all. And last, I need some curare paste.”