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Tony waited, counting thirty seconds on his watch. ‘Adam? You okay?’

‘Yes.’ He slowly opened his eyes. ‘Do a memory check. I want to be sure he’s gone.’

‘Okay. Let’s see… what year did Syed go on the Hajj?’

‘That was… 2005.’ Adam caught Tony’s dismay. ‘No, it’s okay — that came up during the debriefing, remember? When you asked how he first met Fathi. If we pulled it out of his memory, now I remember it too.’

‘Sorry.’

‘No problem. Ask something else.’

‘How about… the name of Syed’s first imam when he was a kid.’

Adam thought for a few seconds. ‘No idea.’

‘How old was he when he first fired a gun?’

Another pause. ‘Nothing.’

‘He’s gone?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thank God. You must be relieved to be rid of that bastard.’

Another emotionless ‘Yes.’ Adam rubbed the mark on his neck, then stood. ‘How long before we land?’

‘About thirty minutes. I need to go straight to STS once I’ve seen Roger to the hospital; I imagine Morgan’s got a boot with my ass’s name on it. Harper too, I expect. You should go home, though. You could use some sleep.’

‘So could you.’

‘I didn’t get shot at. You deserve the morning off for that, at least. Never say I’m not a generous boss.’ He grinned.

Adam didn’t respond to the joke. ‘Okay. I’ll be at STS by noon.’ He returned to the main cabin.

‘See you there,’ Tony said with a sigh.

Washington DC, United States

After the plane touched down, Albion was taken away by an ambulance, Tony going with him. The rest of the team dispersed. Holly Jo offered to share a taxi with Adam, but he declined.

He returned to his apartment. The living room was plain, even spartan. White walls with no pictures, comfortable but utilitarian black Ikea furniture, a desk in one corner with an Apple laptop upon it. No ornamentation of any kind. There was no television. Or a stereo, even a radio. The entire place was devoid of personal touches, anything that might give a hint about its occupant’s private life.

It did not occur to Adam that there was anything unusual about this.

He entered the bedroom, unpacking his baggage and putting everything in its proper place, then pulled the curtains to shut out the morning light. He undressed and was about to get into the bed when he hesitated. The moment passed and he climbed in, switching off the lights. Despite his tiredness, it took some time before he finally fell asleep.

He knew what was waiting for him.

The dream was one he had experienced too many times before. He ran down a street; where he was, he didn’t know. Something terrible had happened. People fled the other way, screaming and crying, frightened faces flashing past as he battled against the tide.

But there was one face ahead that was not moving. He reached it, kneeling down. It stared up at him. The eyes were wide but lifeless, unmoving, surrounded by dirt and blood.

The dead man’s face was his own.

Adam jerked awake, breathing rapidly. The breaths slowed. He looked at the glowing figures of the clock beside the bed. Barely an hour had passed. He closed his eyes again, but knew that the same dream would find him once more.

Chapter 8

Day of Change

Reading, England

This was the most important day of Bianca Childs’ life, yet the only thing she could think about was her sore feet.

The pain was her own stupid fault. No, actually, it was James’s fault for insisting that everybody ‘dress smartly for the investors. Yes, even you, Bianca.’ Laughter all round, though hers was decidedly forced.

That said, turning up at the lab to discover she was the only woman not in high heels had produced some weird kind of peer pressure, compelling her to make a rapid drive from the science park to fix the anomaly. In hindsight, though, spending just ten pounds on the first pair of black stilettos that fitted, from a place calling itself Megasave Shoe Warehouse, had been asking for trouble.

So now she was in a rented function room at a hotel, trying not to fidget as James concluded the presentation that could make her career… or see the whole company knocked back to square one. Or even zero. Of the several research projects Luminica Bioscience had sunk its dwindling capital into, Thymirase was the one with a chance to be a breakout success. And she had been its primary architect; her ideas, her two years of solid work, had led to the lab team piecing together the complex chains of molecules that would become a miracle drug.

If it worked. Computer simulations said it should, and initial tests on animals — something Bianca was never happy with, but which James had decided were a necessary evil considering Thymirase’s potential — had produced the expected results. But testing on humans was another thing entirely, and Luminica didn’t have the financial resources either to engage in full-scale trials, or to deal with potential lawsuits if things went wrong.

Enter the investors.

Six people: four men, two women. They represented a venture capital group specialising in medical research, here today to decide whether they would put money into Thymirase. If they did, and the drug did everything Bianca believed it would, the licensing fees from the patents could potentially be worth billions. The investors would take the lion’s share, and as the company’s founder James Harding would claim a hefty chunk of the remainder, but all of Luminica’s fourteen employees were assured of a piece of the action. In a best-case scenario, Bianca’s slice would be worth…

She didn’t even want to think of the number in case doing so jinxed the deal. Anyway, it was too much — more than she could possibly need in several lifetimes. Even if she made sure that the people she cared about were provided for in perpetuity, the amount left over would still be obscene. There would be a lot of charities receiving unexpected — and large — donations.

God, her feet hurt. She tried to force a state of Zen calm upon herself to overcome it, with limited success, as James clicked on his final PowerPoint slide. It would soon be time for her to add her own contribution to the presentation. She tried to judge the investors’ feelings. Were they going to buy in? The mere fact that they were here at all was a good omen, but she had friends in other pharmaceutical start-ups who had come so close to a life-changing deal… only for everything to collapse at the last moment.

She had a good feeling about this deal, though. The body language of the six expensively dressed visitors — none had bought their shoes for a tenner — was veiled, but they couldn’t disguise their interest. All were subtly leaning forward, necks craning as if trying to get closer to something delicious. Hungry Hungry Venture Capitalists. The thought brought an involuntary giggle, which she hurriedly tried to hide behind a fake cough.

But there undeniably was a hunger there. One man watched James with literally calculating attention, head bobbing millimetrically as if he were working a mental abacus. The others displayed similar subtle signs of their keenness.

Nothing had been signed yet, though. They still had to be convinced to take the final step…

James gestured in her direction, the VIPs’ heads turning as one. ‘So with that in mind, I’d like to introduce the person whose insight and dedication has led to the development of Thymirase: Dr Bianca Childs.’

This is it. ‘Thank you, James. Thank you,’ she said as she stood to polite applause. ‘But Thymirase was really a team effort — it wouldn’t have happened without the help of my incredibly talented colleagues. Some of whom are much better at public speaking than me, so thank you again, James, for making me face my fears!’ The joke got a small amount of laughter.