Rodeo doesn't miss the point when Lansing brings up his former cohort in the Capitol. He's all too aware of that problem, and he's not fool enough to believe that the Mayor allowed that Justice man to take Demi out of her cage without a motive in mind. He doesn't know how much Olinger knows about who Demi was (or nearly was) when she was part of his camp, but he's certain that the man is watching her closely.
"The bitch has been told to stay away from my sister," Rodeo says simply, with the kind of bluntness that reveals just where his priorities lie-- and they're not with the bitch. "If she has a mind to disobey that order, I trust you won't have a problem seein' to the consequences. I could buy one o' your patrolmen to deal with it, but I reckon you'd have some neater solutions." Lansing strikes him as a tidy sort of fella. The kind who manages not to make a mess, even when he's spilling blood. Rodeo can't say that neatness has ever been his strong point. His hand has always been a bit heavy.
The solution that Lansing suggests seems perfectly reasonable to him. He ashes his cigarette out the open window beside him, nodding as he pieces together his end of the plan out loud. "I have a black Tahoe, same as some LBJ's security crew got. Ain't been through much, shouldn't cause suspicion." He'll wash the Greenbelt's signature sand off the truck beforehand, make sure it doesn't look like it's been out in raider territory. "But I got a real memorable face, partner. Reckon I might have to let somebody else take the wheel, hang back in the truck somewhere, just in case I crossed one o' them human shields before. I got a couple fellas that don't look too rough 'n tumble, could pass for some of LBJ's mallcops once they scrub the dust off. Shouldn't be any reason to suspect it ain't exactly what you say it is. Can get her back to you the same way too, just have 'em meet us three blocks out down Congress Ave." Usually Rodeo asks Adelaide to meet him on Brazos, because Congress is heavily patrolled and San Jacinto gives him the heebie-jeebies when he stares up the end of the road and sees the barbed wire fence built up around La Quinta. But someone with no secret agenda would consider the patrol-guarded Congress Ave to be the safest route, and anything else might be cause for suspicion.