happened, she knew what would happen next: she would be cut out of his plan to find Oliver. She’d be left isolated and alone. Too big a security risk, they would say. Compromised. And the others would go off without her. She wouldn’t be there to help them, wouldn’t be able to protect Simon. And she knew, she was positive, he was going to need her more than once—more than ever—in the difficult days to come.
What else could she do? She thought looking around her immediate surroundings, then decided Simon needed to know. Otherwise, he may be in more danger if she didn’t tell him.
She decided she was sure and grabbed the phone, just as there was pounding on her front door. She froze, clutching the phone in hand.
OXFORD, ENGLAND
Samantha's Flat
Simon didn’t realize how fast he had gotten to Samantha’s apartment.
He pounded on the door as hard as he could. “Sam!” he called out, desperate for an answer. “Samantha!”
Five seconds, he told himself. Then I kick the door in. Five…four…thr—
“Simon?” Sam’s weak voice came through the door.
Simon blew out a sigh of relief. At least she’s okay, he told himself. “Sammy, it’s me,” he said. “Open up.”
He heard her unlocking the door and impatiently helped to push it open, eager to see her.
Sam’s eyes were still half-shut; she looked disheveled and surprised. She was dressed in the same clothes from the night before. She must have fallen asleep as soon as she got home, he reasoned. And then…
Simon moved closer to her and held her shoulders, looking straight at her face as he asked, “Sammy, tell me everything that happened.”
There were tears in her eyes. “That’s just it, Simon, I don’t remember.”
He dropped his hands, still looking into her eyes. “Then tell me the last thing you do remember. Andrew dropped you off…you came inside…you…”
“…brushed my teeth,” she said, almost dreamily, “…sat down on the bed, still dressed and so tired…and…”
Her eyes were wide and empty when she looked at him. “And that’s all. Nothing else until I woke on the bed an hour ago, still dressed.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. She was doing her best not to cry. “Oh, Simon. God, what…?”
He saw it then—a tiny, circular rash about the size of a large coin on the side of her neck. He wouldn’t have noticed it at all except for the angle of the light; it was just a slight roughness to her skin and not much more.
“Wait a second,” he said, leaning forward, sniffing at her neck.
“Simon, what the devil…”
“Sorry,” he said again. But he had caught a whiff of what he had expected to: the astringent, garlic-like odor of the DMSO derivative used in most medi-patches. “You were drugged, Sam.”
She put her hand to her neck protectively, as if she half-expected a knife to be put there. “A patch?” she repeated. “But who…and why would they…?”
Simon was already on his feet again, pacing nervously. “I want you to gather some clothes and come with me. Now.”
She looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about? Have you gone mad?” He was already moving toward her closet, looking for a suitcase or a bag. “Where the hell do you want me to go?”
“Something tells me we shouldn’t be here,” he said. He shook his head tightly, quickly. “We should get the hell out of here. Sam, my place was broken into last night. Get your stuff—we’re leaving.”
More in response to the urgent tone in his voice than any real understanding, she jumped up and started toward her room to gather her things. “None of this makes any sense,” she muttered. She sounded muzzy and confused; clearly, the drugs were still in her system.
Simon moved back into the living room, thinking furiously. Maybe I should go back to my flat, he thought. But…but they could be waiting. He wasn’t quite sure what to do; he had never been on the run before, especially from something as bizarre as this. Max would know what to do, he told himself. This is his element. But he had no choice. He couldn’t go to the authorities; for all he knew UNED and Jonathan’s CIA bosses were part of the group that was after him and his friends. And now he was conspiring to steal a multi-billion-dollar piece of government technology. They couldn’t possibly know about that…
…could they?
Simon came to a decision at that very moment: their only alternative was to accelerate the