Cunningham turned to see Jack Meyer had entered the room. His face was pale, he seemed out of breath and there was sweat on his brow. None of this was normal.

Meyer stepped forward towards Knowles and Cunningham, his stride long and brisk. He looked with concern at Nicolas Dupart.

An unfamiliar face, Cunningham realised.

‘Mr President. Mr Cunningham. There’s a security issue. One I can only discuss in the earshot of those with clearance.’

He indicated towards Dupart with a nod of his head.

Knowles nodded in understanding and turned to face Dupart.

‘Nick, I think you need to leave us.’

‘Mr President—’ Dupart rose to his feet, ‘I’ll be available to continue this at your convenience.’

‘Thank you, Nick.’

Dupart headed back out the door through which he had entered. Cunningham watched in silence as it was closed behind him. Once satisfied that they were alone, he turned to Meyer and braced himself for what could not be good news.

‘What is it, Jack?’ Knowles spoke first.

‘It’s the team we sent to New York, Mr President. To deal with the Joe Dempsey problem.’

‘From the look of you, I’m assuming it didn’t go as planned?’

‘No, Mr President. It did not go as planned. My team is dead, sir. Every man I sent. Dead.’

‘What! How?’ Cunningham could feel a pain growing in the back of his head as he asked the question. As if physical pressure was mounting within it. Why was nothing going as planned?

‘I have no idea, sir.’ Meyer was visibly upset. ‘The men on that team were the best we had at this and he massacred them. In literally seconds, according to witnesses. Who can do that, sir? Who the hell is this guy?’

‘We did warn you not to underestimate him, Jack,’ Knowles said coldly. ‘Joe Dempsey is not just another agent.’

‘Yeah? Well you didn’t tell us we were dealing with fucking Superman, did you?’

‘Let’s not turn this into a conversation anyone will regret,’ Cunningham interrupted, stepping closer to Meyer. He could see that the assistant director was near breaking point; the inappropriate language he had directed at the president proved that. Another outburst would not be helpful now. ‘We can work out what went wrong later. First, we need to find the sonofabitch.’

He looked from Meyer to Knowles, then back again. Meyer still seemed close to the edge. The president, in contrast, was calm.

‘What about Agent Grace?’ Knowles asked.

‘What about her?’

‘Is she among the dead?’

‘Christ knows.’ Meyer’s shoulders slumped as he continued, his tone dejected. ‘We haven’t found her.’

‘You think she’s dead?’

‘No reason to think anything else. If he could take my guys, he could sure as hell take her.’

‘But no body?’

‘No. There was no sign of her at the scene. Most likely she’s dead somewhere else in that building. It’s a big place. I have a team scouring it as we speak.’

Knowles nodded. For a moment he was silent.