”“Peter didn’t have any friends when he was a kid. Did he have any friends as an adult?”Rebecca was silent while considering the question. “...e and Alan were a lot alike. I think they liked each other, but neither one would admit it. I mean, they weren’t obvious friends. They just seemed to understand each other.”“Alan who?”“Alan Barton.”“The Alan Barton? The man who completely reorganized the NSA to something legitimate?”“Yes.”“How on earth would Peter know Alan Barton?”“I think they worked. I wanted to be away from them as quickly as I could. The concert had been uplifting, the music swelling and fulfilling, now though, outside in the cold I hurried across the tramlines towards the car park. My route crossed one of the streams that flows tamed and soiled through the city centre. Stonewalls and buildings, tunnels and bridges guided its heavy flow as it swept darkly along to God knew where. I paused for a moment looking at the water. It seemed oily almost but for all of the. More

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