Free The Shadow Protocol by Andy McDermott Page B

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 anymore.”
    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.
    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. Uh … 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 forthat, 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. No stereo, not 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 eyeswere 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.

READING, ENGLAND
    This was the most important day of Bianca Childs’s life, yet all she could think about were 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