Still holding his gun out in front of him, Burim searched the apartment, first looking into the kitchen area. It was a mess, with dirty dishes piled on the countertops and in the sink. Wasting no time, Burim dashed to the back of the living room. There were two closed doors that led, he assumed, to bedrooms. Burim held the handle to the first, clutching his gun in his other hand. He opened the door quickly, and rolled around the door into the room, ready to fire again. There was an unmade double bed, an open wardrobe and not much else. Burim checked a small bathroom. It was empty.

Burim went to the second door off the living room. He ignored George who was frozen in place two steps into the apartment. Burim grasped the doorknob of the final door, holding this pistol at the ready alongside his head. He then yanked open the door.

•   •   •

JIMMY YAN YAWNED. It had been a hell of a day. But Zach Berman’s plane was now ready to head back to Boulder, and in a few minutes, Jimmy’s car would be roaring on the motorway up the spine of England to Manchester and another airport, and a plane that would take him home and to a powerful new life of his own.

Jimmy moved over to the base of the airstairs leading up to Berman’s plane. Berman was standing on the tarmac off to the side, and looked crushed and a little drunk. Jimmy nodded that it was time, and the guards let Berman go. Berman walked unsteadily toward the stairs. Jimmy held out his hand to shake if Berman was so inclined, but he wasn’t. He stopped for a moment, glared at Jimmy for a beat, then climbed the stairs. At the top, he didn’t look back.

Berman turned to the right and sank into one of the leather swivel chairs. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The pilots were going through their last preflight checks. A few moments later as the door to the Gulfstream banged shut, Berman opened his eyes and nodded to the cabin attendant. It was only then that he made a point to turn and look into the depth of the plane. He was surprised. He was the only passenger. Whitney Jones had never got on.

Berman leaned over to the large oval window, which was a hallmark of the Gulfstream design. He craned his neck to see what he could. He made out Jimmy’s figure, and, yes, there was Whitney Jones, standing right next to him. Berman leaned back into his seat. I have my money, he thought, but why does it feel like I’ve lost everything?

•   •   •

“YOU FEEL OKAY?” Jimmy said to Whitney.

“I feel fine,” Whitney said. “Better than fine. I’m flabbergasted at what you have been able to do. Nano will be far better with you at the helm.”