All week Jack had been taking bathroom breaks at the same time Frieden did. This was by necessity, of course; he had learned through uncomfortable missteps in the field that he needed to take advantage of every available opportunity to go when there was a lull in the action. But now as Jack zipped up his fly and washed his hands he realized his last few calls of nature had corresponded naturally with Frieden’s. His bladder had fallen into a rhythm with the man’s down the street. Jack found it both depressing and funny that his biology had melded sympathetically with his target’s, but he shook the feeling away and headed back into his dark little office. Not to watch Frieden so much—although that remained his main duty—but to get back to his computer. So far, the only interesting person who had come into contact with Frieden—physically, anyway—was Andrei Limonov. Jack had gotten no closer to the money-laundering network used by Mikhail Grankin, and it didn’t look like he would do so unless and until Gavin Biery cracked the man’s files.
