Page 283 of The Black Trilogy

His building also had an elevator. I was about to point that out, but then I thought, hey, having Jed around for a while could be entertaining.

“Just don’t walk around naked. You nearly gave Mrs. Fairfax a heart attack last time.” I’d heard her scream from the other end of the house.

“I thought it was her day off.”

“Wear boxers, Jed.”

The next day, I finally got in for my meeting with Jed’s bosses.

“You certainly got a result, didn’t you?” the director said.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. The bang was slightly larger than I anticipated.”

Another grey-suited clone got out his laser pointer and highlighted an area on the video screen. “The satellite feeds show the whole weapons plant went up as well. Which puts the Syrians years behind schedule and saves us from having to send you back in again. Job well done, Emerson. We owe you one.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

Only the CIA could be thrilled at the amount of mayhem I’d created. The director pushed a plate of biscuits towards me, and I took two. Even though I’d eaten four meals a day in Dahab and binged on falafel and ice cream sundaes, I still needed to gain half a stone.

“I didn’t see you at Philip’s memorial service,” he said.

“That’s because I didn’t go. I didn’t think it would be appropriate.”

How could I face his family when I’d been the one who killed him? No matter why I’d done it, his blood still stained my hands.

“We told his family he was lost in a light aircraft crash over the ocean. It was better that way.”

“Good thinking.”

At least they’d never know what he went through at the end. Sometimes a lie was better than the truth.

“Are you ready for more work?”

“Give me a few weeks, would you?”

I’d had a medical and thankfully my kidneys and liver were still functioning as they should, but my muscles had suffered wastage, my back still hurt in the mornings, and Toby and Alex needed to work their magic before I got back to full fitness.

“Fair enough, but don’t leave it too long. I’ve got a number of interesting projects I think would be right up your street. I’ll send the details over for you to take a look at.”

Patience, for the director, was a hindrance rather than a virtue.

The job in Syria, for all its horrors, had at least reminded me of my purpose in life. I threw myself back into life at Blackwood, and as long as I kept busy, I found I could live with myself again.

And then there was Jed. He took me out for dinner as promised, and despite what I’d said, I didn’t pick the most expensive wine on the menu. Jed ordered himself a bottle of white, but I was driving so I stuck with water.

“What are you having to eat?” he asked.

“Goat cheese salad to start, then grilled tilapia. You?”

“Lobster to start, then steak.”

“That’s two mains.”

“When I was stuck in that hole, I never thought I’d see the inside of a restaurant again, so I think I deserve it.”

“Fair enough. How are you healing up?”

“My leg’s getting there.”

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