"You know you can't let them know that you are onto them…"
Ever the present shadow, Athena mused, hearing Ewan's voice behind her. Wasn't he out with Aiden, talking over the next steps just minutes ago? She hadn't noticed him step in behind her.
"Are we still talking about the intruders, the fanatics trying to break into my lab?"
"No," Ewan muttered, standing beside her, eyes trained on the television set, on which Morgan's picture was displayed. The gory one Athena had taken about an hour ago, the one she had sent to the president.
It didn't take them long to get around publicizing the info. He faintly shook his head. Fulfilling their promise to the public must feel so good, he concluded, aware of the buzzing starting around them—from the medical officials in the room to the happy patients and visiting party.
They must think that the Grey madness was over. If only they knew.
"Your thoughts are not with me?"
