Peter smiled. "If you try to put this on me and have me killed as some rogue actor, your handlers are going to wonder about you and why you hired me. You may end up putting the noose around your own neck. Better to pretend it was your plan all along, I believe."
She said nothing in response. Instead, she swung her fists, knocking her display to the floor. The images of her plan gone awry blanked out in a shower of sparks. "Get out, Sweeper. We're done."
Peter shrugged. Five thousand luckies and a clear conscience were more than enough compensation. He abandoned Sylvia to her machinations and her fate, only slightly worried about getting a knife in the back. Peter Highsmith had focused on what lay behind him for too long as it was, but now his demons were quiet, swept away by a side of himself he had suppressed for years. He walked away, looking ever forward.
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Grantville Gazette 37 gg-37 Page 29
