‘You weren’t pretending,’ he pointed out.
That caught her off guard. ‘Wow. I suppose I wasn’t, was I?’
‘No. And you know something else?’
‘What?’
He grinned. ‘You did okay.’
‘Well, except for the part where I completely cocked things up by injecting Zykov too soon.’
He pretended to wince. ‘Yeah, that had us worried! But everything worked out okay. We got the information we needed from Zykov, and he doesn’t even know we have it. He’ll lead us right to al-Rais.’
‘So what now?’
‘Like Martin said, we wait for Zykov to make a move – and the President to decide whether we stay involved. I think we probably will be – in fact, I hope we are. I want to see this through.’
‘Well,’ said Bianca, ‘can I stay in the van rather than needing Adam to rescue me?’ She glanced in Adam’s direction, expecting to see him retreating into the Cube, but instead found him still standing there, watching her thoughtfully. Wondering what was on his mind, she looked back at Tony. ‘It seems a lot less stressful.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He checked his watch. ‘So, do you have any plans for this evening?’
‘Nothing beyond lying around in my hotel room . . .’ Tired from what she had been through in Macau and the long flight back to the States, it took her a moment to pick up on his subtext. ‘Why, do you have a suggestion?’ she asked, with a hint of mischief.
Tony, on the other hand, got her meaning immediately. ‘Well, it occurred to me that you haven’t had a proper chance to experience Washington yet. Maybe you’d like someone to show you around?’
‘That might be nice,’ she said, flattered by his attention. It was certainly preferable to Zykov’s. ‘Although I really am exhausted after the last couple of days, so—’
‘Bianca?’ Adam appeared beside her as though he had teleported there, taking her by surprise. ‘I wondered if you’d like to go for a drink with me this evening.’
She didn’t quite know how to react. Tony was equally startled by the proposition. ‘Er . . . what, after work?’ she finally managed.
‘Yes. I’d like to talk to you. Not about the mission,’ he clarified, seeing that both Morgan and Kiddrick had now taken an interest. ‘About . . . other things. Something that came up the other night, when you had that problem with your car.’
She was intrigued, but before she could answer, Kiddrick bustled over. ‘No, no, that’s absolutely out of the question,’ he said, interposing himself physically between Adam and Bianca. ‘I can’t allow that. This is a United States government intelligence operation, not speed dating.’
While Adam’s expression was normally inscrutable, it was now perfectly readable: disdain. ‘Is that an order?’
‘Yes, yes it is,’ Kiddrick replied huffily.
‘Well, Nate,’ said Adam, surprising everyone again with the unveiled sarcasm in his tone. ‘First: as the project’s scientific adviser, you don’t have the authority to give me orders, or anyone else for that matter. Second: what I do in my free time is my business, not yours.’
Kiddrick now resembled a beached fish, eyes wide and mouth uselessly gawping. ‘Martin!’ he finally protested. ‘You tell him!’
Morgan was clearly still annoyed with the scientist. ‘Tell him what? He’s not a soldier; he’s not confined to barracks when he’s off duty.’
‘But you know that—’ He clammed up.
Bianca couldn’t resist. ‘Know what, Nate?’
Her use of the diminutive annoyed him even more. ‘Martin!’
Morgan gave Kiddrick a stern look over the top of his glasses. ‘I know what you’re saying, but I don’t see how that applies here. Or are you suggesting Adam can’t be trusted to have one drink without bellowing national secrets down the length of K Street?’
‘No, but – alcohol could cause complications,’ he blustered. ‘We don’t know.’
‘It never caused me any trouble,’ said Tony. His expression told Bianca that while he was somewhat annoyed by Adam’s unexpected usurpation of his social offer, he wasn’t going to block it. ‘And so long as it doesn’t affect security, I don’t see any problems.’
‘Security!’ exclaimed Kiddrick, seizing a lifeline. ‘That is an issue. As an intelligence operative, Adam is strictly prohibited from unauthorised meetings with foreign nationals. And she’ – he pointed at Bianca – ‘is a foreign national.’
Bianca was already angry at his high-handed attitude, and the stab of his finger only increased her ire. ‘Excuse me, Nate, but I have full security clearance granted to me by the Director of National Intelligence himself.’ She held up her ID. ‘I think that authorises me to talk to Adam whenever I like, inside or outside the office.’
All eyes turned to Morgan. ‘I’d say that was correct, yes.’
Kiddrick went red with fury as he realised he had been outmanoeuvred. ‘This – this isn’t over!’ he spluttered, stalking away. ‘I’ll take it higher if I have to.’
Morgan started after Kiddrick. ‘Nathaniel – my office. We need to talk in private.’ He paused to look back at the little group. ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t go bellowing national secrets down K Street.’
‘I don’t think that’ll happen,’ said Tony. Morgan nodded and followed the fuming scientist. ‘Will it?’
‘It won’t,’ Adam told him.
‘Good. Of course, none of this actually matters unless Bianca actually wants to go.’ He regarded her questioningly.
In the heat of the discussion she hadn’t had a chance to think about that, but now she knew there was only one possible answer. ‘Adam? Yes, I would love to go for a drink with you this evening.’
‘Good. Thank you,’ Adam replied. He didn’t quite smile, but he still appeared pleased.
‘Well, you kids have fun,’ Tony said, before adding with faint warning: ‘Don’t do anything crazy, okay?’
‘I’m too tired for that,’ Bianca assured him.
Adam, on the other hand, said nothing.
22
Where Nobody Knows Your Name
The bar to which Adam took Bianca was called the Rose & Crown, an ersatz British pub incongruously located on the ground floor of a glass and steel office block. ‘I thought this might make you feel at home,’ he said.
The interior was more a caricature than a reproduction of the real thing, but she decided to keep any mockery to herself. There were more interesting things to discuss. ‘Have you been in here before?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. On her questioning look, he went on: ‘It seems kind of familiar, but . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Which is why I wanted to talk to you, outside of STS.’
They ordered drinks, then found a table. Bianca sat facing him. ‘What did you want to talk about?’
‘The other night, when you were asking about my past, and I wouldn’t tell you?’
‘Yes?’
‘I realised afterwards that . . .’ He searched for the right words. ‘It wasn’t so much that I wouldn’t tell you. It was more that I couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘That’s the worst part – I don’t even know. But once I started thinking about it . . .’ He looked down at his drink for a moment, then back at her. ‘Ask me something about my past. Anything.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Ah . . . do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘I can’t disc—’ he began, suddenly cutting the words off. ‘You see? I didn’t mean to say that, it just came out before I’d even had a chance to think about it. Like a programmed response.’
He was trying to cover it, but she could tell he was distressed by the realisation. ‘But do you have any brothers or sisters?’ she asked gently.
‘I’m . . . not sure,’ he managed to say.
‘What about anything else?’ The standard PERSONA questions came to her mind. ‘Do you know your mother’s maiden name?’
A look of pained puzzlement. ‘I
. . . no. I don’t know.’
‘Your best friend when you were a kid?’
‘I don’t know! I never thought about it until you brought it up; it didn’t even occur to me to try. But now that I have . . .’ He rubbed his temple with his fingertips. ‘I can’t remember anything about my past. At all.’
Bianca was shocked. ‘Nothing?’
‘Nothing specific. I know general things like . . . like I was in the military – I know how to field-strip weapons, unarmed combat techniques, things like that. I even know some obscene marching songs.’ They both smiled a little at the brief injection of frivolity. ‘So I’ve been trained, and I remember the results. But I don’t remember where I was trained, or who trained me.’
‘And it’s the same for everything else about your past?’
‘Yeah. I went to school, but I don’t know where. I must have had a dog, because the other morning I saw a kid having trouble getting one to behave and I knew what he should do to train it, but I don’t remember the breed, or even its name. And I obviously must have had parents, but . . .’ A deep sadness filled his eyes. ‘I don’t remember them.’
She couldn’t help but be affected, and reached across the table to put her hand on his. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No need to be. It’s not your fault.’
‘No, but . . .’ Even in her sympathy, part of her mind was still being analytical, scientific. ‘This kind of very specific declarative memory loss is extremely rare, whatever Hollywood might think. Considering that it’s also non-ongoing, because you aren’t having trouble storing new memories . . .’ She broke off, thinking.
‘What is it?’ Adam asked.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Part of what you do involves giving people drugs to suppress their short-term memories. I think somebody’s done the same to you.’
‘But my short-term memory’s fine. And I’ve never been given Mnemexal.’
‘That you remember.’
Bianca hadn’t intended the comment to be dramatic, but Adam reacted as if an electric charge had run through him. He straightened sharply, eyes wide. ‘You think someone did this to me deliberately? It’s not some PERSONA side effect?’
‘Well – I don’t know,’ she said, flustered by his sudden intensity. ‘I mean, Tony doesn’t have the same symptoms as you.’
‘You make it sound like an illness.’ He considered her wording more carefully. ‘You said symptoms, plural. There’s something else besides the amnesia?’
She blushed, knowing she was about to broach an awkward subject. ‘Um . . . okay, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way and be offended . . .’
He withdrew his hand. ‘After saying that, you’ll have to risk it, won’t you?’
‘Yeah, I suppose I will.’ She tried to think of the best way to phrase it, but all the alternatives seemed equally bad. ‘Okay. When you aren’t using someone else’s persona, your behaviour tends to be . . . unusual.’
‘In what way?’ he asked, eyes narrowing.
She felt more embarrassed than ever. ‘Oh God. How can I put this? You often seem, ah . . . blank.’
He certainly wasn’t blank now. ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Look, I’m sorry, okay? But you asked, and I’m just telling you what I see. When you’re at STS, you almost never show any kind of . . .’ She trailed off.
Adam was not going to let her off the hook. ‘Any kind of what?’
‘Emotion?’ she managed.
‘That’s not what you were about to say. Tell me. I want to know.’ A beseeching look. ‘I need to know.’
Bianca cringed in advance. ‘I was going to say that you don’t show any . . .’ She forced out the word. ‘Personality.’
That produced the expressionless mask she was used to – except this time, it clearly was being used to conceal some very strong feelings. ‘You think I don’t have any personality.’
‘I’m saying that you don’t often show it. That’s not the same thing.’
‘Maybe I’m just a naturally reserved kind of person.’
‘Are you? You tell me.’
‘I can’t discuss . . .’ The mask broke. ‘God damn it! Why can’t I remember?’ His hands clenched into anguished fists. ‘Why can’t I even think about remembering?’
She took hold of his hands again. ‘I’m sorry. Adam, it’s okay. Look, if something was done to you to affect your memory, Roger’ll know about it. He must do – he developed the drugs. I’ll talk to him tomorrow and find out what he knows.’
‘What if he won’t tell you anything?’
‘Then I’ll poke his bullet hole until he does.’
It took him a moment to realise she was joking. ‘You know, you Brits do that whole deadpan thing really well.’
‘We are a nation of experts at hiding our true feelings.’
He smiled slightly. ‘So that’s how you made your assessment of me? It takes one to know one?’
‘Something like that.’ She returned the smile, which seemed to please him, before becoming a little wistful. ‘Although . . . there’s another reason.’
‘What?’
She leaned back in her seat. ‘I, ah . . . I lost two of my grandparents to Alzheimer’s. It was awful, watching their minds – their selves – being eaten away. But one of the worst things was not knowing how much of them was still trapped inside. Up to a certain point in the illness, occasionally a flash of the real person would come through. And when it did . . . God, I would try to hold on to it so hard. But it always slipped away.’ A morose sigh. ‘I was always watching for those flashes, though. I still do. And . . .’
‘You think you’ve seen them in me?’
‘Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘Your case is different. It’s not a disease, it’s something that’s been done to you.’
‘But you still want to hold on to those flashes?’
‘Well, I am a doctor . . .’ Bianca stopped, seeing that something behind her had caught his attention. She looked round. Two men had entered the bar. She recognised them: Spence and Fallon, members of Baxter’s tactical team in Macau. They scanned the room like human radars, locking on to Adam. ‘I don’t think they’re here for a drink,’ she said as they marched over.
‘Nor do I.’ Adam looked up as they reached the table. ‘Yes?’
‘We need you to come with us back to STS, Mr Gray,’ said Fallon.
‘Is there an emergency?’
‘I can’t say. We’re just following orders.’
‘Orders from whom?’ Bianca demanded.
No reply. ‘Well?’ said Adam. ‘Whose orders?’ Still no answer. ‘It was Kiddrick, wasn’t it?’
The two men were losing patience. ‘Mr Gray,’ said Spence, ‘come with us, please.’ The final word was an insincere afterthought.
‘Just a minute,’ said Bianca. ‘I think he deserves an answer.’
Fallon was unimpressed. ‘This doesn’t concern you, Miss Childs.’
She bristled, standing and rounding the table. ‘First of all, it’s Ms Childs, not Miss. And second of all, it’s Doctor Childs to you. He asked you a question – are you going to answer it?’
‘We’ve got our orders,’ Fallon said, patience fraying. He raised a hand as if to shove Bianca aside. ‘Mr Gray—’
Adam’s hand snapped up and grabbed his wrist.
Fallon’s reaction was almost instantaneous, the trained, automatic response of a soldier. He tried to pull his arm free, at the same time thrusting his other hand at Adam’s elbow to break it—
Adam was quicker. He sprang up, dodging Fallon’s blow. Faster than Bianca could even follow, he twisted the other man’s arm up behind his back. Fallon gasped, but the sound barely had time to pass his lips before Adam scythed his legs out from under him with a spinning kick.
Fallon crashed against Spence, both men tumbling to the floor. The bar’s other occupants looked round in shock. Bianca was in much the same stat
e. She gawped at Adam – and found that he had a beaming, delighted smile on his face.
It widened. He grabbed her hand. ‘Run!’
Before she could protest, he pulled her with him, heading for an exit at the bar’s rear. Fallon and Spence struggled back to their feet, unhurt except for their pride.
That was enough to inflame them. Faces twisted in anger, they pursued.
‘Adam!’ Bianca cried, but his grip was unbreakable. He reached the door and barged it open. She had no choice but to run to keep up. They charged down a hallway. A glowing red sign marked a fire exit at the end. Timing his footfalls perfectly, Adam kicked the locking bar and sent it flying open. They barrelled through without stopping, emerging in an alley.
She expected him to head for the street, but instead he went the other way. ‘It’s a dead end!’ she protested, seeing only dumpsters in a ragged line against a brick wall.
‘Climb over,’ he said. Before she could reply, he had effortlessly swept her up and deposited her atop one of the bins. She gasped in surprise. Down the alley, Spence and Fallon burst through the door and charged after their quarry.
Bianca thought Adam was going to fight them, but instead he leapt up beside her. ‘Go on, climb up!’
Half scared, half exhilarated, she scrambled over the wall. The drop into another building’s loading dock was about twelve feet. She hit the ground hard and fell to an undignified landing on her backside.
Adam climbed over after her – but didn’t jump down. Instead he hung from the edge of the wall by both hands, feet up high to hold him in a frog-like crouch.
The mystery of what he was doing was revealed to Bianca a few seconds later. Metallic thunks came from the other side of the wall as Fallon and Spence climbed on to the dumpster. The latter’s face appeared over the brickwork – then Adam popped up right in front of him. ‘Boo!’
Spence let out a startled yelp, losing his hold and falling back with an echoing crash. Twin explosions of swearing told Bianca that he had knocked Fallon down with him. Adam dropped to the ground beside her. His expression as he pulled her back upright was nothing short of mischievous glee. ‘Come on!’
The Persona Protocol Page 22
