“Have to tell you boys,” said Doc, “every time I see those two letters, it gives me a nasty little itch right between my shoulder blades. Like someone’s out there in the tall grass lining me up nice and proper in the crosshairs.”

“I’m quite familiar with that feeling,” said Church.

“Are you getting that feeling now?” she asked.

“I am.”

With that, he stood and left the lab.

CHAPTER 24

IN FLIGHT OVER THE SOUTH ATLANTIC

The cabin steward, a slim Genoese woman who was a bit older than the others in the flight crew, stood in the galley with the curtain drawn. Her fingers touched the crucifix beneath her uniform as she peeked out through a narrow gap in the blue cloth. The first-class passengers were mostly dozing. Beyond them, most of the overhead lights were off, though a few travelers had their faces lit by whatever screen they were watching. The big 250-seat Airbus A330’s engines, running on autopilot, were a constant heavy drone that lulled most people to sleep.

Midway along the aisle, there was a large service dog curled on the floor, partly under the seat, but occasionally leaning his big white head out to look up and down the walkway. Beside him was a blind man. Older, heavyset, wearing sunglasses with very dark lenses. He wore earbuds, but when the cabin steward passed by on her rounds, she noticed that the headphone cable wasn’t plugged in. It merely dangled. When she leaned over and asked if he needed help finding the jack for the music, he turned to her and—she was positive—looked at her.

That had been a very odd moment. Over the thousands of flights she’d worked since joining the Alitalia team, she’d encountered countless vision-impaired passengers. She could always tell whether they’d been born blind, had lost sight due to age or injury, or were merely legally blind.

She did not think the man in seat JJ66 was blind at all.

When he’d turned to her and raised his face, even though the glasses—as well as the dimmed ambient light—were too opaque to see his eyes, she could feel them.

It was so unnerving.

It wasn’t merely that sensation of being watched. No. It was more of being seen and seen all the way down to the skin. To the nerves and blood and bone. It was violative, invasive, and made her skin crawl.

Now she watched the aisle, hoping no one near the man and dog needed her.

And, as if hearing her thoughts, she saw the blind man lean out and look in her direction. Those black glasses against his pale skin. The touch of his perception.

It was so …

Dark.

That was it, she realized with an abruptness that made cold sweat pop out of her skin over her heart.