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‘That was my decision,’ said Adam before Tony could reply. ‘Doing that would have erased Syed’s persona, and let his men escape. It would have cost us the mission.’

‘Not doing it might have cost us the entire project,’ Morgan countered. ‘Why wasn’t Syed’s persona recorded during transfer?’

‘We needed to get Syed back into play as fast as possible,’ explained Tony. ‘All the encoding and compression needed to record a persona would have taken too long. Also,’ he added, before his superior could respond, ‘doing that would have meant imprinting Adam with the same persona twice. You know we can’t risk the potential side effects.’

Morgan was annoyed at being challenged, but acquiesced. ‘Okay. But I want recording of subjects’ personas to be standard operating procedure from now on unless absolutely necessary.’

‘Understood.’

‘That is, assuming there’s ever another mission. We can’t do anything without Roger to administer the drugs.’

‘There might… be a solution to that problem.’

Everyone looked round at the weak voice. Albion was awake and trying to lift his head, despite the efforts of his nurse to keep him still. ‘Roger, you should be trying to rest,’ said Tony.

‘Rest is for babies and the idle,’ Albion replied, forcing a thin smile. ‘No, I’ve been listening; to some of it, anyway. I’m not sure what drugs this young lady’s given me, but they make me… drift in and out. They are… rather good, though.’

‘I guess I haven’t given you enough,’ the nurse complained. ‘Please, lie down.’

‘In a minute. Look, Martin, I know someone who… might be able to stand in for me — to be my locum tenens, so to speak.’

Morgan’s expression turned probing. ‘I thought determining the drug doses was too complicated for anyone but you?’

‘She has the necessary training to… assess the subject’s condition and make the appropriate calculations.’ Albion’s head sagged on to the pillow, to the nurse’s relief. ‘I’m sure I can… teach her.’

‘I’ll consider it,’ said Morgan. ‘But right now, you need to get some re— some sleep.’

‘I’ll see that he does, sir,’ said the nurse. Albion made a ‘Bah!’ sound, but settled back into the bed.

Tony looked back up at Morgan’s image. ‘Are we done for now, Martin? Because I need to get back to the debrief. We’ve already found a connection between Syed and Muqaddim al-Rais—’

‘Al-Rais?’ Morgan interrupted. Baxter also reacted with surprise at the name. The Saudi was the most wanted terrorist in the world, the current leader of al-Qaeda — which ten months earlier had taken revenge for the loss of its previous commander, Mahjub Najjar, by detonating a massive car bomb in the Pakistani capital Islamabad. The explosion had not only killed over a hundred people, but also assassinated its primary target: the US Secretary of State, Sandra Easton. ‘How strong a connection? Anything that would give us his location?’

‘No — at least, not yet. But we do know that he’s personally overseeing something. “Operation Lamplighter” is what Syed says it’s called.’

‘It doesn’t ring any bells,’ said Morgan. ‘But I’ll pass it straight up to the Admiral so we can get the entire USIC on it. Anything that gives us a shot at al-Rais…’

‘I’d be happy to take the shot personally against that son of a bitch, sir,’ said Baxter.

‘I’m sure we all would. All right, Tony, get back to work on Syed. The rest of your chewing-out can keep until you get back to Washington.’ His image disappeared.

‘So, uh, are we done, Tony?’ Levon asked drowsily from the other half of the screen. ‘Not that I don’t mind being dragged out of bed to be shouted at by the boss, but I’d kinda like to get back to sleep now.’

‘We’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever damn day it is in DC,’ Tony told him. Levon grinned, then the screen went dark. ‘Okay, Adam, Holly Jo — let’s get back to it.’

‘Whoa, a three-way,’ said Kyle, smirking at Holly Jo as she stood.

She sighed and gestured towards the emergency exit. ‘Can I kick him out of that hatch?’

Tony smiled. ‘If you take care of the paperwork.’ He led the way back down the cabin, pausing as he reached Albion. ‘Roger, is this friend of yours really good enough to take your place?’

‘Oh, nobody’s good enough to do that,’ Albion whispered, with a feeble smile. ‘But she has the right background in medicine and psychology, and has… a good handle on people. I think she’ll be able to fill in until I’m back on my feet.’

‘You make sure that doesn’t take too long, okay?’

‘Get well soon, Roger,’ Holly Jo added.

Adam, behind her, said nothing, staring down at Albion in silence. For a brief moment his eyes widened, taking on the intensity — and anger — of Syed’s gaze… but then it faded.

Only Tony had noticed. ‘I think we need to finish the debriefing,’ he said quietly.

Adam looked at him, face now blank. ‘I think you’re right.’

The following hours saw the jet pass over the Arctic wastes of Greenland and Canada, cruising above Quebec and New York State before beginning its descent towards the eastern seaboard. The debriefing was finally concluded. Every secret Syed knew about the terrorist organisation’s operations and members had been exposed, the Pakistani’s memories picked clean.

Now it was time for another kind of cleansing.

Adam emerged from a washroom, drawing a double-take from Holly Jo. ‘Wow. I almost didn’t recognise you,’ she said, only half joking.

Toradze’s moustache was gone, the black dye rinsed out to return Adam’s hair to its natural dark brown. Even his eyes had changed, the piercing blue of the Georgian’s gaze a softer grey now that the contact lenses had been removed. The expensive clothing had also been replaced by an unremarkable shirt and slacks, the gold jewellery returned to an evidence bag.

Shorn of the arms dealer’s distinguishing marks, what remained was… anonymous. Had random onlookers been asked to describe Adam Gray after glimpsing him in a crowd, that would have been the recurring word. He was handsome enough in a way that could charitably have been described as ‘generic’, none of his features particularly distinctive. Even his background was hard to determine; most of the hypothetical onlookers would have thought him Caucasian, but the more observant might have picked out other traits. Some Hispanic ancestry? Persian, perhaps, or Arabic? It was impossible to be sure.

‘It’s an improvement,’ said Tony, looking up. The other team members were in various states of sleep throughout the cabin. ‘Welcome back.’

‘Not quite yet.’ Adam held up the case containing Albion’s medical equipment. ‘There’s one more thing to do.’

‘You don’t want to let it happen naturally?’ Holly Jo asked. ‘You look exhausted — you’ve been awake for nearly twenty-four hours. You really need some sleep.’

‘I want Syed’s persona wiped.’ There was a tinge of disgust to his otherwise flat voice. ‘Now.’

Tony looked towards Albion. ‘Will it be safe without Roger to work out the amount?’

‘It’s a standard dose.’

Tony hesitated, then took the case. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure. I don’t want this guy’s thoughts in my head any more.’

The two men went to the rear cabin. Adam sat and tugged down his shirt collar as Tony took out the jet injector. ‘Is this set?’

‘Yes. Do it.’

Tony cautiously placed the nozzle against Adam’s neck and pulled the trigger. Adam flinched, then leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.