Tom thought of his father suddenly. Neil blustered his opinions to everyone, whether or not they wanted to listen . . . and that never accomplished a thing for him. It was strange how Neil wasn’t really a threat to anyone, but merely because of the way he talked, he was treated like one.

Blackburn folded his arms. “I may not know what you did to provoke Joseph Vengerov, Raines, but I know one thing: you showed your hand so he struck first.”

“But I didn’t,” Tom protested. “I didn’t cross Vengerov openly. The thing is, he wanted me to make contact with Medusa again and use a computer virus on her. I never had a chance to say no. As far as he was concerned, I hadn’t made up my mind. I hadn’t told . . .” He fell silent.

His breath caught. He had told someone.

He had. Just one person.

Tom felt sick. He’d felt strange hanging around his friends, because some part of him somehow knew who had passed the information on to Vengerov, who had to have done it.

Only one person had the faintest clue that Tom had already been meeting Medusa. Only one person could’ve told Joseph Vengerov that Tom was in contact with Medusa but wasn’t deploying a virus on her.

The same person who’d been scrambled because the military thought he was a Russian spy.

It was Yuri. Tom’s brain beat with the terrible realization. It was Yuri. . . . It was Yuri. . . .

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

TOM GENUINELY WASN’T sure what to do about Yuri, and he couldn’t seem to get a chance to get Vik’s advice, either. Vik always seemed to be off doing something else. Since Medusa hadn’t visited him since he’d kissed her, and their two simulation groups were due to battle, Tom decided to get to Vik there and tell him the situation. Quite inconveniently, the simulation that day turned them into cavemen.

All Tom could manage when he spotted Vik was a grunting battle cry. Vik’s prominent forehead furrowed. His grunt in return was unenthusiastic. Tom charged at Vik with a rock in hand. Vik waved his club angrily. Tom hurled the rock and got Vik in the ribs.

Vik flopped to the ground, his club rolling out of his hand, but when Tom finally jumped on him and began slamming him over and over again, Vik only halfheartedly tried to wrench his grip away, like he wasn’t into the fight.

It made Tom sad. He couldn’t talk to Vik about Yuri, and now Vik wouldn’t even fight. He hit Vik across the chest. “Why no fight? Fight Tom!”

Vik grunted unhappily. “No.”

Tom hit him again. “Fight now!”

Vik’s lip puffed out. “No!”