Tony spoke before any of them could answer. ‘Because I told them to.’
It took Morgan a moment to fully process what he had heard. When he did, his tone was calmer, yet more dangerous than ever. ‘Would you care to explain that?’
‘I ordered,’ Tony placed emphasis on the word, ‘them to help Adam evade capture. They were acting under my instructions as their superior, so the responsibility for everything they did is mine.’
‘Very noble of you,’ said Morgan. He looked at the trio. ‘And would you all back up that statement?’
‘Yeah, totally,’ Kyle gabbled. ‘I mean, it’s Tony — he’s our boss, we all trust him, and we do what he says, right?’ He took in the disapproving expressions of his companions. ‘What?’
‘He’s right,’ said Tony, before Holly Jo or Levon could add anything. ‘They were following my orders.’
‘While disobeying mine,’ Morgan replied. He regarded Tony in silence for several tense seconds. ‘All right, if that’s how you want to play it… You three,’ he snapped, turning back to the specialists. ‘You’re all relieved of duty pending further investigation. Report to the security office and turn in your IDs, then get out of my agency. I’ll deal with you later.’
They mumbled shamed affirmations, then left the room. ‘You asshole,’ Holly Jo hissed at Kyle.
‘What?’ he protested. ‘That’s what Tony wanted!’
Morgan waited for the door to close behind them. ‘So, what do you want, Tony? Why have you decided to risk your career — your freedom — for Adam?’
‘Because he deserves to know the truth about himself,’ Tony answered.
‘But you don’t know what that truth is.’
‘Do you?’
‘No,’ Morgan admitted. ‘But the Admiral vouched for him as an ideal candidate to replace you — and whatever the reasons Adam had for wanting to forget his past, he asked to forget it.’
‘But he’s changed his mind. Now he wants to remember — or at least to find out why he wanted to forget. He wants to learn who he really is, and what we took away from him. I think he has a right to know.’
‘You don’t have the authority to give him that information,’ Morgan said sternly. ‘And nor do I, for that matter.’
‘You’re saying it’s entirely Harper’s call?’
‘It is.’
‘You can’t tell me you agree with that.’
‘Whether I do or not is irrelevant. And for God’s sake, Tony, even if I sympathise with Adam’s motives, he’s gone about this in the wrong way. He assaulted Kiddrick, stole classified data, sabotaged a government facility and wreaked havoc in the capital! You know we can’t tolerate that. And I can’t tolerate insubordination.’
Tony took a deep breath, then nodded. ‘I understand. What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know yet. For now, you can wait in holding until I figure that out.’ The phone on his desk rang. ‘Yes?’ He listened, expression hardening. ‘Right.’ He put it down and regarded Tony grimly. ‘Speak of the devil. Harper is here.’
The Director of National Intelligence was in Morgan’s office barely a minute later. ‘I want to know what in the name of the good Christ is going on,’ he snarled. ‘How the hell did Gray get away?’
‘I helped him,’ Tony said.
Harper seemed about to explode. ‘What?’
‘Tony just admitted to me that he was passing information to Adam that allowed him to evade capture,’ explained Morgan — the truth, but not in its entirety. Tony gave him a brief look of gratitude on behalf of his three co-conspirators. ‘I put him under arrest just before you arrived.’
Harper stared angrily at Tony. ‘Then why is he still here and not in a cell?’
Morgan picked up the phone. ‘Get security to my office,’ he ordered.
The white-haired man marched up to Tony, almost nose to nose with him. ‘What the fuck are you playing at, Carpenter?’
Tony didn’t blink. ‘Why is it so important that Adam doesn’t remember his past, Admiral?’
Harper’s fury rose at being challenged. ‘That’s not your goddamn concern!’
‘My concern is the people under my command — and Adam is one of them.’
‘And my concern is the security of the United States! By taking that disk, Gray is a direct threat to that security. If it gets into the wrong hands—’
‘It’s in Adam’s hands,’ Tony cut in, raising Harper’s ire still further. ‘They’re his own memories! How can finding out about his past be a threat to national security?’
Before Harper could reply, there was a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ Morgan barked. Two security officers entered. ‘Take Mr Carpenter to holding and keep him there until further orders.’
‘What did Adam know?’ Tony demanded. ‘What’s on that disk, Admiral?’
‘Get him out of my sight,’ Harper growled.
‘And what about Adam?’ asked Tony as the two men ushered him to the door.
‘We’ll catch him,’ replied Morgan.
‘And if he’s used the PERSONA to re-imprint his own memories?’
Harper said nothing — but the concern clearly visible even through his mask of anger was an answer in itself.
Bianca watched the rush of data on the PERSONA’s screen subside. She checked that the diagnostic readings were in order, then turned to Adam. ‘Are you okay?’
He opened his eyes. ‘Yeah. I think.’
‘I’ll try to do a memory check. What’s your full name?’
‘Adam Peter Gray.’
‘So you are really you, then.’ She remembered something he had said a few days earlier. ‘What was your dog called?’
‘Grover,’ Adam replied, a smile breaking. ‘I did have a dog, I remember him! He was an Irish setter.’
‘Where did you grow up?’
‘Crescent City, Florida.’
‘Your parents’ names?’
‘Steven and Lucia.’ Brief gloom crossed his face. ‘My dad passed away in 2004 — but my mom’s still alive! She’s still in Florida, she moved to Fort Lauderdale.’ His downcast look was completely swept away by delight. ‘My God, I can remember her! I can remember everything, my fam—’
He flinched as if he had taken a physical blow. His exhilaration instantly vanished, replaced by horror. ‘What is it?’ Bianca said, alarmed.
‘I have a brother,’ he mumbled. ‘I–I had a brother, a twin. He looked just like me. The dream, it wasn’t — oh God.’ He fumbled at the door handle, trying to get out of the car. The cord attached to the skullcap pulled tight. He clawed at it, tearing it off. ‘Oh God, no!’
He staggered from the Mustang, almost collapsing against the wall of the loading dock. Now genuinely scared, Bianca jumped out and ran to him. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘The dream’s not a dream,’ he gasped. ‘My brother, Michael — he worked for the State Department, he was one of Secretary Easton’s staff. He was with her in Islamabad when — when al-Qaeda blew up her convoy. I was waiting to meet him, we were going to catch up…’ He tried to stand, but reeled again, overpowered by the rush of memories pummelling his mind. ‘I heard the explosion — I ran down the street to help, but I found him, I found him…’ He slumped to his knees, retching.
‘Oh God,’ whispered Bianca, a hand covering her mouth in dismay as she realised the truth. Adam’s recurring ‘dream’ had been reality, an image so shocking and traumatic that it had resisted the purge of his memory, searing itself into his subconscious.