Free Protocol 7 by Armen Gharabegian Page A

right?’ and you said something like, ‘Oh, I really couldn’t say.’”
    “Well…”
    “And she said, ‘Well, if there was something going on, and Simon had told you not to tell, you would be in a very awkward position,’ and you agreed with her.”
    “She said ‘difficult,’ actually. And Simon, she’s still waiting.”
    He sighed even more deeply. “I’m sure she is. Put her through—but no visual.”
    “All right…”
    There was a change in the quality of the air—the sense that another voice was present, even though no one had spoken. It was a familiar feeling for Simon; he felt it every time he spoke with Sammy. She had a presence, an energy that he just couldn’t ignore.
    “All right then,” she said without preface. “What’s this all about?”
    He couldn’t help himself. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he deadpanned. Aside from Hayden and Andrew, Simon hadn’t been able to face anyone since receiving the news from Jonathan about Oliver, much less Samantha. He knew she would ask too many questions.
    “Oh, for pity’s sake, Simon! First you spend almost a week dodging me—”
    “I most certainly have not! That idiot simply—”
    “Oh, stop. Dodging me, I said. And Fae is not an idiot.”
    “Thank you, Doctor.”
    “You’re welcome, Fae.”
    Great, Simon groaned to himself. They’ve become friends.
    “—and then I get a call from Max, way out in Argentina or somewhere.”
    “The Falkland Islands, as you are well aware.”
    “Fine. And then I get a call from Ryan, of all people, mister genius turned corporate, and feeding off daddy’s money, asking if I’m coming with you tonight? That’s rather bizarre, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Oh god—”
    “—both of them asking me the same thing: what’s going on? Because they assume I know.”
    She had worked herself into a high dudgeon, and for good reason, Simon realized. Samantha had been a close friend in times of need, and he had thought long and hard about bringing her into the circle—obviously, her name had even gone on his dog-eared list, just to be crossed off again. She would expect to be part of it. But this was dangerous, damn it, and though Samantha’s skill as a field surgeon and her expertise in bio-engineering could be hugely valuable, he couldn’t bear the thought of putting her in danger.
    “All right, Sammy,” he said aloud. “It’s time that we sat down and had a talk.”
    “Past time, I’d say.”
    He also knew he couldn’t say a word on the phone. Even though Andrew’s new device had made the house secure from eavesdroppers, Sam didn’t have a secure phone—at least not yet. “Are you up for a drink?”
    “It’s a bit early for a bender, Simon.”
    He couldn’t help but smile. “It’s past noon, Sam. I think you’ll survive.”
    He could feel her smile on the other end. “I suppose I could do the pub in an hour,” she replied. “But let’s make it the Stanton.”
    “All right then, I’ll see you in an hour.”
    “An hour,” she replied, and the call faded.
    They usually met at the Griffin, a nice little pub about midway between their homes. But this time Samantha had purposely called for the Stanton, right around the corner from her flat—a longer trip for Simon. Simon was actually grateful; it would give him time to put together a convincing lie.
    He wanted to see her—he always wanted to see her—but he didn’t want to tell her the whole story. He didn’t dare. She’d be pushing her way onto the team halfway through hearing it.
    You’ll risk the lives of your best friend, your college roommate, and your father’s oldest ally…but not Samantha. Why is that? he asked himself.
    Samantha was a remarkable woman. An adventurer in her own right, she had been field doctor for half a dozen major expeditions, including two trips up Everest. She had spent years as a leader for Doctors Without Borders and had recently made a mark in bio-engineering with a series of