You do not know me, but I know of you. I cannot explain who I am yet, or why I am sending you this note, but I can say with certainty that showing this note to anyone you do not trust absolutely would mean certain and instantaneous death for both you and them.’

Neal stared at the handwriting, as neat and regular as the envelope had been, and whispered, ‘what the f..?’ He read on.

‘Do not e-mail anyone about this letter, do not talk about this letter to anyone on the phone, anyone at all. You are being watched. Talking about this will mean your death. Not at my hands, I assure you, but I will be unable to stop it.

Stay low, stay quiet, and tell your friend Madeline to do the same.

Soon I will be able to tell you more. Until then contact no one about this letter or about what happened in India.’

All thought that Neal had had that this might be a prank vanished when Madeline’s name was mentioned. At the word India his heart simply froze.

‘I have sent you another letter under identical cover but I know now that you did not receive it in time. Find it, and make sure no one else has seen it in the interim.

I give you these two final pieces of advice: do not talk about this to anyone when you are in the open, even Madeline. Never talk while looking upward. I think you may know why. And do not trust anyone with black eyes.

I will come find you soon. Until then, do nothing about this. Complete your thesis and do all you can to secure the job at the White House, it will be more useful than you can imagine in the coming months.

Yours sincerely,

A Friend’

Neal reread the sheet three times. Then opened the other letter, which was much the same as the first, only it contained a line imploring Neal not to go to India in the first place.

Dear God. Someone had known. Neal struggled to wrap his head around it. Someone was trying to warn him. Someone had known that the King’s Transom would find something, and they had known what would happen when they did.

Suddenly there was a firm knock at the door and Neal literally almost soiled himself. The sensation was most unpleasant.

“Neal, are you there? I heard you were in town. Are you there?”

Who was that? Shit, Who The Fuck Was That?!

Neal scrambled to hide the letters, then recognition dawned on him, he had heard that voice on the phone too many times.

It was Colonel Milton. But what the hell was he doing here? Did he know? Was it him? Wait, he would not have sent the letters here, he would have told Neal directly. Let’s not get paranoid, Neal, get it together.

“Colonel?” shouted Neal through the door.