Page 117 of Beyond Protection
"Test," she said into a radio.
I spoke, and my voice played back tinny and strange.
She ran the wire down my chest, securing it with tape, and I was thankful for a naturally smooth chest. The transmitter pack was heavier than expected, clipping to my belt.
"Arms up."
An elastic band compressed my ribs. Not painful. Present. Impossible to forget.
"Put your shirt on."
I did. When I looked up, Eamon had moved closer.
"Let me check," he said.
His hands were warm. He ran fingers along my collar, feeling for the wire underneath.
"Visible here," he said quietly, tracing the line through fabric.
"She won't get close enough to notice."
With him so close, I stared at the shades of red in his beard and the shadows under his eyes.
"Turn around."
He checked the transmitter pack, tugging gently. Then ran his palms up my spine, smoothing the elastic band.
"How does it feel?"
"Strange."
"Your body will adjust. But if anything digs in, tell someone immediately."
The technician returned. "Comms check. Detective Clairmont and I will be in the van. Agent Price mobile. Say something."
I took a breath. "This is Mac McCabe. Testing."
"Copy. Clear signal. Agent Price?"
Eamon fitted an earpiece into his left ear. Tapped once. "Price. I have him."
Those three words made a knot form in my chest.
The technician packed up. "Try to avoid loud environments. Don't touch the mic."
She left.
Silence filled the room.
"I'll be fine," I said.
"You don't know that."
"I know you'll be there."
Eamon stepped closer. "Walk me through what happens if she approaches."
"I keep her talking. You move in."
