“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Come…come in.”

She was approximately the last person in the world he had expected to see, this apparition that walked lightly into the room, almost without leaving footprints, and closed the door behind her.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you weren’t killed today.”

She still looked the same, her slim body hidden inside a warm-up suit, belying not only her curves but the strength within, both physical and mental. The sandy hair caught in a ponytail, ready for a run; the pert nose framed by a sprinkling of freckles on the small face.

“Do I have to carry this conversation all by myself?”

“Sorry.” Drake sat down hard on the bed. His legs would no longer support him. “I…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger, as you yanks would say. They didn’t tell me about you, either, until they were forced to by the accident. All the other runners had partners, except me. When they finally divulged the secret, I almost walked out, just the way you did six years ago. For some reason that I can’t attribute, I waited around to see whether you were alive or dead. I must say, you look more dead than alive.”

“I’ll recover.” At least from the collision. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

“You owe me a lifetime of apologies. Let’s see. You leave me with no message and no explanation. I’m frantic, thinking that you’re dead, or at the very least a prisoner in a Soviet Gulag camp. Finally, after months of searching and talking to everybody I can think of, a sympathetic bloke at your embassy does some checking and lets me know that you’re all right but doesn’t know where you are. I wait for word-and wait. For six years I’ve waited. In vain.”

“I had no choice.” Drake felt miserable. “I was ordered to secrecy.”

“Yeah, I remember bloody government secrets. Your government and mine. Don’t let the right hand know what the left hand is doing. But I take it you’ve been out for several years. Why did you quit?”