Chapter 31 · The Name on the Tag

"Read it again," I said. "Out loud."

Marcus didn't look up from the printer. His hand was shaking around the strip of paper, and the little machine kept spitting more of it out behind him, curling onto the floor like it had something to say and wouldn't shut up.

"Transfer," he said. "Chain of custody. Panel four-four-one." He swallowed. "Recipient: Ortega, N."

"That's me," I said, like saying it slower would make it less true.

"I know who it is, Nash."

Levi was still on the gurney, shirt open, gauze taped crooked over the bite I'd left in his shoulder twenty minutes ago. He hadn't moved to cover himself. He hadn't moved much at all since Marcus walked back in on us, actually, except to go stone-cold official the second the word "panel" came out of anybody's mouth.

"Give me the tag," he said.

Marcus didn't. He held it against his chest like a kid hiding a report card. "You don't understand. This batch number — it's the same as Denver. Eight months ago.