Take a good look at the edge of your seat.
Whatever you’re doing right now, stand up and turn around. He would start in Turkey he’d require fake passports, a faux life, and yet another identity: he told the President to call him “Pilgrim.” He wasn’t happy about coming out of retirement, but he was the best chance anyone had of catching a madman. And it was obvious that its creator – a man he nicknamed Saracen – was ready to use it. It had potential for mass devastation that would make the Black Plague look like a children’s game. He was even less interested in going back to the Turkish town where he’d been a freshman agent – but when the President of the United States asks, you do what’s required.Īmerican forces had recently discovered something that made the President’s blood run cold: in a remote area of Afghanistan, three bodies were found buried in quicklime and infected with a virus that was hand-engineered to bypass vaccines. He wasn’t eager to revisit memories attached to numbers like that. Then he felt revulsion when he recognized a series of numbers scrawled on a clue as an area code for Turkey. Not, anyhow, until he saw the aftermath of a perfect murder committed by someone who used what he’d written, to kill. Months were spent pouring out observations for an audience he knew would be small – detectives and operatives, mostly – and he rarely regretted it. You don’t get to be Rider of the Blue – the top of the top in a department the government officially denied – by holding onto things like names.
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