The following days, Terrence kept his eyes peeled, trying to notice anything unusual. For some reason, Thomas and Vita had made a strong impression on him—and not just because of the girl’s beauty.
They were definitely scared, and probably crazy too. And they did know a lot about him. Terrence had chosen not to tell Bergman how much they knew during his debriefing with the colonel. It was better to play it safe, in case Bergman was part of this scheme.
The question that was really nagging Terrence was if—if he was being tested, why him? What had he done wrong? Or was this just “usual procedure,” a routine exercise imposed on all agents?
Sitting in his little office, he kept staring at his screen without being able to form a coherent thought. He was working for a system, protecting it from people that either distrusted it or plainly wanted to destroy it. The system was supposed to be grateful, not suspicious of him.
Then again, he tried to reassure himself, the system might not be involved. But this thought was even more distressing, and he only wished he would never hear from Thomas and Vita again.