“She certainly looks like me.” Exactly like me. The ramifications of someone impersonating her at the safe house in London, while she was in London, were daunting. From across the room, he pointed at the video. “Who knows you well enough to pull that off?” “No one,” her mouth went dry, and she made a path across her lips with the tip of her tongue then chewed the side of her lip for a second. “People know me, but whoever that is studied me. My walk, my mannerisms… It’s uncanny.” And creepy as hell. “You’re known for your creative and inventive disguises, right?” “So are dozens of other operatives.” “Savage?” “She taught me what I know,” Honey admitted. “But this couldn’t have been Catherine. She’s in her supermax prison cell in Colorado as we speak. Inmate number 765432. Catherine Jayne Seymour. Present and accounted for. Solitary. Twenty-three hours a day, seven days a week. She’s in Range Thirteen- what they consider ‘ultramax’, virtually no human contact.
