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By Robert Ludlum

"Welcome to Robert Ludlum's world...fast pacing, tight plotting, foreign intrigue." --Cleveland undeniable Dealer

On Parrish Island, a constrained island off the coast of Virginia, there's a little identified and not visited psychiatric facility. There, faraway from prying eyes, the govt shops former intelligence staff whose psychiatric nation cause them to a risk to their very own govt, humans whose ramblings may perhaps endanger ongoing operations or end up dangerously inconvenient.

One of those staff, former Consular Operations agent Hal Ambler, is saved seriously medicated and heavily watched. yet there is one distinction among Hal and the opposite patients--Hal is not loopy. With the aid of a sympathetic nurse, Hal manages to first transparent his brain of the drug-induced haze after which pulls off a bold break out. unfastened, he is out to find who stashed him there and why--but the area he returns to is not the one he recollects. buddies and longtime affiliates do not be mindful him, there are not any legit documents of Hal Ambler, and whilst he first sees himself within the reflect, the face that appears again at him isn't the one he is aware as his own.

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Deal,” he acknowledged, his voice thick with feelings he may well now not keep an eye on. She took him into her fingers, and he appeared to develop more advantageous in her embody. “Look, perhaps we’re all an idea within the brain of God. I as soon as had a boyfriend who used to claim that our greatest likelihood of immortality was once the belief that we don't exist. Granted, he used to be stoned on the time. ” She pressed her brow to his, and he may perhaps think her smile. “I’m simply asserting, we need to decide upon what to think, occasionally. And—oh hell—I opt for you. Instincts, correct? ” “But Laurel—” “Shut up, okay? i feel you, Harrison Ambler. i feel you. ” Ambler felt as though the solar, warming and radiant, had abruptly seemed in a hour of darkness sky. 11 As he drove his rented Pontiac from her subdivision and made a left onto the busy two-lane highway it adjoined, he felt oddly buoyed, a broken vessel dancing on a wave. the comfort was once actual; it was once additionally precarious. but he felt uneasy prolonging his stopover at, as desperately as he desired to. Laurel Holland had already performed quite a bit for him: he couldn't permit her make from now on sacrifice. on the subsequent intersection, a number of miles later, he waited patiently at a crimson mild, adjusting his excessive beams to low as a van approached the intersection contrary. because the mild became eco-friendly and he drove in the course of the intersection, he felt a unexpected kick back and proven along with his left hand, that hot air was once blowing from the vents whilst he glanced at his rearview reflect and— Oh Christ oh Christ oh Christ—the van! The hatchet-faced driving force. A retrieval workforce. Or worse. He desired to veer round instantly in a U-turn, yet a procession of vehicles was once now clogging the opposing lane of site visitors. He was once wasting time and had none to lose. How had it occurred? It’s my condominium. I’ll do what i need. Laurel Holland’s laptop. Her goddamn desktop: her searches should have brought on whatever. a number of govt corporations had trap-and-trace programs—the FBI’s Carnivore was once in simple terms the easiest known—that monitored net site visitors. those platforms used so-called “packet sniffer” thoughts to observe particular nodes and information loci on the net. As with the pc he had used on the Dupont Circle cybercafe, Laurel’s computing device could have a special electronic handle, that can be used to retrieve its registration information—and its owner’s handle. there has been a holiday within the oncoming site visitors, and, tires squealing, Ambler made a 180-degree flip. He heard the blaring horn of the auto he had lower in entrance of, heard its tires skid because it slowed sufficient to prevent a collision. the sunshine on the intersection used to be crimson, which might no longer have stopped him, yet autos have been whizzing by means of from the transverse highway. in the event that they have been touring extra slowly, he might have attempted to nostril via, yet with automobiles sweeping via in either instructions, the possibility of an twist of fate was once too nice. higher to simply accept a hold up of a minute or than to not arrive in any respect. but each moment appeared to cross with agonizing slowness. eventually, there has been a letup within the site visitors, and—now now now, a site visitors hole, might be 3 seconds’ worth—Ambler shot throughout the crimson mild, gunning around the intersection whereas tires squealed and horns blared.

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